Friday, April 1, 2016

Hating The Drawing Board

I’m so frustrated right now.  I’ve been working all week on my Spencerian writing.  And when I look ahead to the capital letters, I can’t even tell what they’re supposed to be.  Is it supposed to be a C, a G?  But the inside cover gives examples of both a capital C and a capital G and neither look like this mystery symbol.  I want to give up.  And I think I am giving up on the Spencerian System of Penmanship.   I think when I first decided to use this system, I was drawn to the idea of having beautiful handwriting to go with the fountain pens I was buying.  But I can have nice writing using a fountain pen and the Zaner-Bloser or D’Nealian scripts instead.  At least those letters are recognizable for people 30-75 years old.  Children still can’t read cursive, which I think is a terrible shame.  Kids today have only screen shots of their phone to remember their friends’ personal messages by.  Forget a password and your stored memories on some website could be gone forever.  But my notebooks and scrapbooks from high school are still right where I left them.  So, back to the drawing board.  I have a few handwriting books I’d ordered before the Spencerian ones, but they are very basic.  Literally starting with the letter A.  I was hoping for something more engaging.  There aren’t any more teacher’s stores in my area.  I used to buy handwriting texts from there.  But now everything is based on the Common Core and teachers can’t teach what they think is best.   I think I might sign up for a Calligraphy class this summer.  C saw a sign that they were having one this month at an art store near us, but it was this month and she’s got too many activities to fit that in.  I’m not sure if J would be interested in doing it with us.  Her own handwriting is a mess because she has dysgraphia but she can copy from a sample in any font successfully.
Tomorrow starts the clean out at my old house.  Unfortunately, it’s going be cold this weekend and next week.  But I figure a few uninterrupted hours with a dumpster should be enough to put a good dent in the nightmare.  Mattress and loveseat out the door at least.  Once I get the bedframe apart I will have room to move around in my bedroom to sort and organize and breathe in there.  I’m hoping I’ll come across my selfie-stick which has been MIA since last summer.  I have no idea what other treasures I might come across.

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