R.I.P., cursive

The fine art of cursive writing seems to be in decline.  Many schools prefer to teach their students computer keyboarding skills, believing that these skills will serve the students better in the future.  I think the students are being short-changed.  If the family computer is viral, or there is an electric outage, completing that rough draft in  longhand will be impossible.  Because keyboarding classes are making penmanship classes a rarity, the student may not even be able to write in manuscript legibly, much less cursive.  Also, documents originally completed in script, such as the Declaration of Independence, may be unreadable by future generations who only recognize letters in simple fonts like Arial..

Like the hieroglyphics of the past, the cursive writings of more recent history may soon only be readable by scholars who specialize in "ancient" writings.  "The handwriting's on the wall."  Let's make sure it's legible, and keep it relevant!

Booklove

It's 2012, and my literary resolutions are to blog & write more, and to read books I've had that are gathering dust on my bookshelves. These dozen or so books are like orphaned puppies; they want attention, and soon. I hope to venture to places created by Charles Dickens & Jane Austen, and read a book of short stories, something I've never done before.  When it's winter, there is nothing more relaxing than tuning out the world, and reading.  Literary adventures await, and I plan to enjoy the journey.

Some Thoughts on Christina Rossetti

I am currently reading a biography about the life of Christina Rossetti, the Pre-Raphaelite English poet, whose "In the Bleak Midwinter" is so popular this time of year.  You can read the text of the poem here: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/238450 


I have always been curious about the melancholy tone of many of her poems.  Many are tinged with sadness, and speak of longing for the respite of death.  Rossetti lived in England in the mid-1800s, a time when single women seeking employment were often encouraged to be governesses, then wives.  Literary genius was thought to be gifted largely to men, but increasingly, women were laying this myth to rest.  Also, the many imperfections of a worldly existence paled in comparison to the Heavenly reward awaiting a child of God.  


Angst was a vital component of creative genius, and Christina Rossetti channeled this into many of her works.  She used her God-given talent to lay bare her soul, and her poetry reflects this on so many levels.  Her works survive to this day because the emotions she repressed in her daily life poured themselves out onto the page via her pen.  I, for one, am grateful for her openness. 

A Font to Remember

It's time to come clean. My name is Leslee, and I'm a fontaholic. A fontaholic is one who, when presented with a body of text, takes more time choosing the font for the text than creating the text itself. There is a dizzying array from which to choose. Do I bore people to death with Times New Roman or Arial? Matisse can cause serious eye strain if the font size is too small.  If  Fiolex Girls is overused, no one takes you seriously. 

Many moons ago, at the esteemed university I attended (the "Harvard of western Wisconsin") the available font choices were few, and Pica and Elite were pretty much it.  Had there been more fonts available, I would probably still be in my dorm's basement, wondering whether to use Papyrus or Segoe Script for my final paper in Dr. Brohaugh's Shakespearean Tragedy class. 

A Little Pomp for our Circumstances....

Gas prices are high, national morale is low.  Leave it to our friends across the pond to raise our collective spirit with a pageantry unmatched by a simple love match, watched by billions of people worldwide.  William and Kate's wedding lived up to its expectations, and rewarded viewers with soaring voices and ceilings, and tidbits of trivia that only diehard royalty fans can appreciate. I, for one, am glad to know that William & Kate are cousins, 12 times removed. In addition to ancestry analysis, there were the fashion police.  They loved the dresses worn by Kate, and her sister Pippa.  They derided the prime minister's wife, Samantha Cameron, who was the only hatless guest at the wedding. Perhaps Victoria Beckham and Princess Beatrice, among others, should have followed Mrs. Cameron's example. 

There was the cute antics of a 3-year-old bridesmaid covering her ears to block out the crowd's noisy cheers. Later, the Duke & Duchess of Cambridge rode in an Aston Martin as they departed from Buckingham Palace.  For the couple that seem to genuinely love and respect each other, and for the worldwide audience, it was a day that gave new meaning to the words of English poet Robert Browning:  "Oh to be in England, now that April's there..."
 

Wholly Writ

With the proliferation of e-books, e-readers, and e-mail, it would seem that traditional bookstores and publishers would be fearful of their futures.  After all, why buy books online, and have them mailed, or trudge to the bookstore or library in subzero temperatures?  With one click and little cash, that New York Times bestseller can be yours in a matter of seconds. 

I have nothing against e-readers and their owners.  What bothers me is that the future of print books doesn't seem to be bothering enough people. There is something almost sacred about holding a book in your hands or resting it on your lap, turning the pages to see what happens next.  It's cool to buy a secondhand book with an inscription from the previous owner penned inside:  "To Doris, on the occasion of her 18th birthday.  With Love & Affection, Mom & Dad. 1942."  Such inscriptions will become obsolete in the e-book era, and along with it, historical significance. 

Print books still have a place in today's society.  I hope that people will still value print books, collect them, and have shelves full of them.   True literacy will survive when a legacy in print is bequeathed to future generations.  

Memories...light the corners of his mind....

I was driving my little guy home from preschool when out of the blue he asks me, "Mom, remember the peeing pig?"  Last October, at a pumpkin farm, there was a pig there who was a very prolific "pee-er."  Its skills were on display for about a minute and a half, and the audience was awestruck. It was number one at going number one.  For my son to bring this up out of the blue is hilarious, adorable, and typical of boys.

Patriot Missive

Besides me, is anyone in Minnesota cheering for the Patriots?  Their mastery on the football field is something to behold.  They are a poverty of words (with the possible exception of Wes Welker) and a wealth of talent.  Some nameless opponents choose the opposite road, which leads to their desctruction and demise.  With their killer offense, and solid defense they, I believe, will be crowned the 2011 Super Bowl champions.  Now, if we could just get Tom Brady to get a haircut....

Where have I been all my life??!

Okay, I admit it.  I have been Twitterized.  I want to come home.  I want my blog back!  I want more than just 140 characters to express my thoughts.  So here I am in all my (blogging) glory.  I am looking forward to the 2010 elections, to cleaning House (& Senate) for that matter.  I am keenly interested in who will be chosen to be John Paul Stevens's successor in the Supreme Court.  I want to visit Massachusetts soon, which is amazing, considering how liberal the state is, but so, unfortunately, is the state in which I currently reside. 

Summertime..and the losing is easy...

I am not having any luck with my fantasy teams. My FOX Fantasy team is a sieve, with roster holes so huge, I can only see 5th place with a high-powered telescope. I am seeing red, as in crosses, by name like Torii Hunter, Jake Peavy, Ted Lilly and Scott Rolen, just to name a few. And let's not even talk about the ESPN Best Ball Challenge. With apologies to "Sonny with a Chance," my team name should be "Loser Force 4."

I can only hope, that with Tom Brady's return, that my fantasy football team will be a force to be reckoned with.

Benched...Singin' the 15-Day DL Blues

Starring....

Jake Peavy, Padres pitcher/lead vocalist;

Carlos Beltran, Mets center fielder/lead guitar;

and last but not least: Raul Ibanez, Phillies left fielder on drums

Get Well Soon....PLEASE!!!!!

Bugged...or WHACK to nature

Here in my little corner of the world, we have had an abnormally cold spring. Somehow this hasn't slowed the proliferation of insects from making themselves at home in my home. A black ant was crawling on my neck one night last week as I slept. I grabbed it and threw it against the wall. CSI, with the "I" standing for insect, occurred the next morning. At least it wasn't a black widow.

A wasp stung me and I still have the evidence on my wrist. Then the worst moment so far for this ant-whacker... my toddler son walks up to me, his chubby fist encasing some new treasure. It turned out to be a half-dead box elder bug. Just typing the words gives me the creeps. The mosquitoes with their GPS systems set for a direct hit on me, haven't discovered me...yet. It's only a matter of time.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!!!

RICHER THAN GOLD

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be --
I had a mother who read to me.
-- Strickland Gillilan (1869-1954)


WONDERFUL MOTHER

God made a wonderful mother,
A mother who never grows old;
He made her smile of the sunshine,
And He moulded her heart of pure gold;
In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,
In her cheeks fair roses you see;
God made a wonderful mother,
And He gave that dear mother to me.

Bonne Saint Valentin!!!

From 1 Corinthians 13 (New King James Version)

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.

Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.

But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away. When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known. And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

STOP THE INANITY!!!

Commenting on the following editorial by Joel Stein of the LA Times:
.

It seems the celebrities are falling all over themselves to be among those making "presidential pledges." Some promise to 'smile more'; others to 'laugh more.' Alyssa Milano wants to 'be the voice for those who have no voice.' Were they asked to expain themselves further, one wonders how long these people would keep blathering on.

Perhaps, if some of the celebrities talked less, the air quality conditions in California would improve dramatically

"Always Kiss Me Goodnight"

Here is the poem that inspired the plaques you see everywhere:

The Art of Marriage by Wilfred Arlan Peterson

Happiness in marriage is not something that just happens.
A good marriage must be created.
In the Art of Marriage, the little things are the big things:
It is never being too old to hold hands.
It is remembering to say “I Love You” at least once every day.
It is never going to sleep angry.
It is at no time taking the other for granted; the courtship should not end
with this day, it should continue through all the years.
It is having a mutual sense of values and common objectives.
It is standing together facing the world.
It is forming a circle of love that gathers in the whole family.
It is doing things for each other, not in the attitude of duty or sacrifice,
but in the spirit of joy.

It is speaking words of appreciation, and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways.
It is not looking for perfection in each other.
It is cultivating flexibility, patience, understanding, and a sense of humour.
It is having the capacity to forgive and forget.
It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow.
It is a common search for the good and the beautiful.
It is establishing a relationship in which the independence is equal,
dependance is mutual, and the obligation is reciprocal.
It is not only marrying the right partner, it is being the right partner

Sports ticker

Best of Luck in the Music City Bowl, Boston College...kill Vandy....Go Golden Gophers, mangle the Jayhawks in the Insight Bowl...Hoyas...humiliate the Huskies of UConn...Pats welcomed Matt, but no playoff berth this year...bummer...I like Vikes...Hope for McNabb's sake, the playoff game doesn't end in a tie...

A poem for winter

To those of you in the Upper Midwest:

(From http://www.infoplease.com/t/poetry/modern-verse/winter-ride.html comes the following poem by Amy Lowell):

A Winter Ride
Who shall declare the joy of the running!
Who shall tell of the pleasures of flight!
Springing and spurning the tufts of wild heather,
Sweeping, wide-winged, through the blue dome of light.
Everything mortal has moments immortal,
Swift and God-gifted, immeasurably bright.
So with the stretch of the white road before me,
Shining snow crystals rainbowed by the sun,
Fields that are white, stained with long, cool, blue shadows,
Strong with the strength of my horse as we run.
Joy in the touch of the wind and the sunlight!
Joy! With the vigorous earth I am one.

May this poem's richly textured vignettes inspire and comfort you as you slog through slush and snow this cold December.

Countdown to the Met Opera Broadcasts

T-minus 16 days and counting!!

From the Met Opera website:

"The November 29 performance of La Damnation de Faust marks the beginning of the 78th season of Saturday matinee radio broadcasts, heard in more than 40 countries over the Toll Brothers–Metropolitan Opera International Radio Network."

Turn up the radio, tune out the world and enjoy.

Red & Yellow Duds a Dud; Sergio Wins, Looks Like a Stud

Sergio Garcia's wardrobe and PGA malfunctions seem to be a thing of the past. In May, the Spaniard captured The Players Championship crown. On Sunday, he won the HSBC Championship on a playoff hole. He is now the No. 2 player in the world. Dude, whoever's in charge of your wardrobe and putting instruction deserves a raise.