In a perverse move intended to, perhaps, slow time, I’ve taken to writing everything in actual, as-you-learned-it cursive.
Remember cursive? All the kids were doing it.
My having taken pen in hand, however, has resulted in notes to myself like “Tupperware ham in sliced up ham” and “meerbin oppin ham slices”.
It seems that not only is it difficult to keep your mind on what you’re writing when you’re struggling to remember the beginning loop on an “h” but it’s also hard to keep it fully legible.
Some day, of course, cursive will be on par with churning one’s own butter or knowing how to darn.
“You know, my grandmother used to write with a pen.”
She did. I have old birthday cards, recipes, in her spiky 1920s script.
It’s like stepping back in time.
Is cursive now a thing of the past?
What will be next? I’ve already encountered store clerks who can’t add without the cash register doing it for them, individuals whose legal signatures are a dashed line embellished with a dot, people mourning the loss of something as individual as penmanship.
And apparently I’m crabby.