Dissertation: First-Generation College Students and the Freshman-Composition Classroom

Professional Interests:  literary nonfiction, storytelling, letter writing as an art

Personal Interests:  travel, theatre, photography, writing poetry

For three years during the early 1970s, I lived in Germany. At the time, we had a Ford van, in which we installed a wooden floor and carpet.  We also built a single bed, which also opened to serve as a storage area; but we usually slept on the floor.  Traveling throughout Europe most weekends with the occasional two-week vacation, we parked the van wherever we could.  Yes, we sometimes stayed in campgrounds; but we also parked for the night in parking lots, highway rest areas, and farmers' fields.  During the four days we were in Paris, we parked on the Avenue Foch, one block from the Arc de Triomphe, and used the restrooms at the nearby USO.  In Amsterdam, we parked on a canal near the bahnhof (train station).  When I told my tenth-grade students about the van many years later, they asked, "Gee, Ms. Floyd, were you a hippie?"  No, I wasn't a hippie; but the van did have flowered curtains at the windows, and I wore my hair down to my shoulders.  I also wore bell-bottom jeans and moccasins.  No, I have never tried recreational drugs.

The van hit the junk yard about thirty years ago, but I still travel whenever I can; however, now I usually travel by public transportation and stay in a hotel or bed and breakfast.  I am a big fan of the train.

In May 2005, my daughter and I visited Ireland, the land of our ancestors.  To see photographs of our trip, click on Slide Show in the lower right corner of the first slide.  The photographs may take some time to load, especially if you are using a dial-up connection.

In June 2006, I visited Alaska.  My daugher, son-in-law, and I experienced the 49th state from as far south as Kenai Fjords National Park to as far north as twelve miles north of the Arctic Circle, where we watched the sun "not set" during the summer solstice.  Check back later for photographs of that trip.

Then there is my annual July trip to Quebec City, where I enjoy long, leisurely lunches and dinners at sidewalk cafes and get to practice my French. . . .