*Frankenstein, by Mary W. Shelley (fiction)
*Prison Poems, by Mahvash Sabet
*Longing: Stories of Racial Healing, by Phyllis & Eugene Unterschuetz
*Islam in Tropical Africa, edited by L. M. Lewis (sociology)
*Thinking in Pictures, by Temple Grandin (memoir)
*From Copper to Gold, by Dorothy Freeman Gilstrap (biography)
*The Orphan Master's Son, by Adam Johnson (fiction)
I opened my eyes to this world on September 24, 1949, in the old Army hospital at Ft. Ord, California, the
oldest child of M/Sgt Michael and Mrs. Harriet Hofer. My dad was the first American-born son of
Croatian immigrants, and my mother was the granddaughter of Prussian farmers.
In 1967 I graduated from Seaside High School, Seaside, California, and in 1977 I received an Associate
Degree in Nursing (RN) from El Paso Community College (now called Pikes Peak CC) in Colorado
Springs. I also attended Västmanlands Läns Landstings Vårdskolan (nursing school) in Västerås,
Sweden, for a year. (Yes, I can speak Swedish, although I'm a bit rusty. I could speak some Hausa at one
time, too, but all that's left of that is a couple stains on my tongue.) My nursing shoes sprinted down the
long corridors of a county jail, a renal-diabetic unit, two AIDS units and two long-term care facilities.
They tiptoed between patients lying on the floors of two over-crowded Nigerian hospitals and stood for
hours squelching in the heat of a Nigerian OR. For the last few years of my nursing career I was
HIV/AIDS certified. I retired in 2012.
While an Army brat I lived in (besides Ft. Ord) Hawai, Ohio, California, Virginia, and Germany. When
no longer "Army" I nested briefly in Colorado, Sweden, Nigeria, and several towns in California.
As you can guess, all that moving around has put me in a constant state of homesickness: I always long
to be somewhere else.
I currently call Colorado home. I share my space with a monster cat named Grey Bear and his two pet
parakeets, Blue Bird and Sapphire.
Right now it's freezing here in Colorado even though I'm talking to Go Daddy and it's 70 in Arizona. Sometimes it's a real drag living in the Rockies--time for another log on the fire.
Standing in the middle of the road is very dangerous. You get knocked
down by traffic from both sides.