pregnant kangaroos use cursive palmer method script
26-11-20 12:35 Granchildren,Handwriting
Although seasons are not a Santa Barbara ‘thing’, the end of Daylight Savings Time (called ‘Summer Time’ in Europe) has meant that the days
“ … are getting shorter, Dan .” Nazy noted.
“Actually, the days are exactly the same size, Nazy. “ I replied, accurately but also somewhat snarky. “It’s just that the time the sun sets comes earlier..”
“It’s dark at 5:15, Dan. A week ago it was light at 5:15. So, I am right.”
“As always, Nazy.” I replied, not quite conceding the point.
In addition to an earlier (by the clock) sunset, I noticed that the furnace actually came on once this week. Can winter (which means I’ll need to wear long sleeves when I walk along the beach) be far behind?
This week, my brother David found a collection of hand written poems in our Mother’s handwriting. He commented that the writing, even after 80 years was still legible. As my sister noted, since most correspondence then was handwritten, there was a big emphasis on legibility. Things have, of course, gone downhill since. And, I may have contributed my part to the degradation.
Mitra found a scrapbook that I had created when our family drove from New Jersey to Iowa and Nebraska in the 1960s. 12 year old Danny recorded every minute) of the non air conditioned journey in a car with two adults (one pregnant) and four children. As you can see from reading the scanned first page of my scrapbook…
“ … my handwriting is somewhat less legible than my Mom’s,” I noted as I showed the excerpt to Nazy.
“Less legible?” Nazy thought. “You are right — except for your inclusion of the word ‘somewhat’,” Nazy said.
“Scrapbook paper doesn’t work as well as the linen paper my Mom used,” I replied. “And, more worrying, I’m not sure that people will be able to read Palmer-method penmanship in the future. That’s why all of my written works are now stored digitally.”
“But maybe I shouldn’t have chosen floppy disks as the storage medium,” I thought.
As noted, in this digital era, our grandchildren may not be taught to read (even carefully written) cursive handwriting. I was about to ask at dinner when Arrow interrupted:
“Where is Mommy?”
“Your Mommy went to Ashley’s house for a reveal party.” Nazy explained.
“What’s a reveal party?” Arrow asked.
“Ashely is pregnant. She wants to find out what Ashley is going to have.”
“Yes!” I interrupted. “They want to know if Ashely will have a baby or a rabbit.”
“No, Dan..” Nazy interjected trying to get a word in.
“You’re right, of course.” I replied. “It could be a baby or a kangaroo.”
“Mamon,” Tiger shouted.”Dan says Ashley is going to have a kangaroo.”
“But — it’s a probably a baby,” I said. “I think Ashley would know if there was a kangaroo in her tummy. Just think about that…”
“Yeah, she couldn’t sleep with a kangaroo jumping up and down …”
“It’s a gender reveal party, Dan.” Nazy interjected.
“Nobody has a gender in their tummy, Nazy.” I replied. “That’s below the tummy.”
It didn’t matter because Tiger was still focused on the kangaroo, “If there is a kangaroo in her tummy, it might bounce and knock her..”
“Dan!” Nazy shouted. “You’re being..”
“Of course, it could be a baby on a pogo stick.” I concluded.
COVID, driven by ‘presidential ineptitude’ and viral fatigue, continues to spread. Everybody is getting tired. Luckily, we can still walk by the ocean and take the children to play outside.
It will be no surprise to regular readers that Nazy and I were delighted by the results of the election. It was also disappointing,..
“… that 70 million people could see, and believe, in Trump’s description of what the future would be if Biden won: socialism (gasp), riots, overreaching presidents). But, simultaneously, they are blind to what has happened (and is happening) while Trump is ‘president’. They hear ‘Socialism’ and see Venezuela, rather than Denmark. But they are blind to the 250,000 people who have died this year from COVID.”
“Trump lost Dan. He has to go. But: How?”
“He could concede and graciously… no scrap that option. Trump has never been gracious about anything.”
“He’s also, according to him, never lost at anything.”
“So, history makes it clear that he won’t admit defeat. Thus, the GOP leadership, which cares about the country will step in and tell him… ha, ha.”
“So, Dan, How..”
“He’ll slink out of town, screaming the whole time that he was ‘cheated’. He will work to disrupt the new President and start a TV show to complain.”
“ i hoped that ‘like a miracle’, Trump will disappear…”
“If only, my dear. But I won’t listen to his TV rantings because I prefer sentences that have structure, not just randomly placed insulting nouns and unpleasant adjectives.”
“Some people still support him.”
“Yes, those are people who would book flights on the Hindenburg’s sister ship because someone showed them a picture of a jet airplane crash. I wonder if any Republican will be brave enough to tell him that he’s not wearing clothes.”
Finally, here in Santa Barbara, we’ll have a very low-keyThanksgiving with just us, Melika, Tom and the local grandchildren. We hope that COVID things will improve by Christmas. In the meantime, we will wear masks, stay physically distant and play with grandchildren.
“ … are getting shorter, Dan .” Nazy noted.
“Actually, the days are exactly the same size, Nazy. “ I replied, accurately but also somewhat snarky. “It’s just that the time the sun sets comes earlier..”
“It’s dark at 5:15, Dan. A week ago it was light at 5:15. So, I am right.”
“As always, Nazy.” I replied, not quite conceding the point.
In addition to an earlier (by the clock) sunset, I noticed that the furnace actually came on once this week. Can winter (which means I’ll need to wear long sleeves when I walk along the beach) be far behind?
This week, my brother David found a collection of hand written poems in our Mother’s handwriting. He commented that the writing, even after 80 years was still legible. As my sister noted, since most correspondence then was handwritten, there was a big emphasis on legibility. Things have, of course, gone downhill since. And, I may have contributed my part to the degradation.
Mitra found a scrapbook that I had created when our family drove from New Jersey to Iowa and Nebraska in the 1960s. 12 year old Danny recorded every minute) of the non air conditioned journey in a car with two adults (one pregnant) and four children. As you can see from reading the scanned first page of my scrapbook…
“ … my handwriting is somewhat less legible than my Mom’s,” I noted as I showed the excerpt to Nazy.
“Less legible?” Nazy thought. “You are right — except for your inclusion of the word ‘somewhat’,” Nazy said.
“Scrapbook paper doesn’t work as well as the linen paper my Mom used,” I replied. “And, more worrying, I’m not sure that people will be able to read Palmer-method penmanship in the future. That’s why all of my written works are now stored digitally.”
“But maybe I shouldn’t have chosen floppy disks as the storage medium,” I thought.
As noted, in this digital era, our grandchildren may not be taught to read (even carefully written) cursive handwriting. I was about to ask at dinner when Arrow interrupted:
“Where is Mommy?”
“Your Mommy went to Ashley’s house for a reveal party.” Nazy explained.
“What’s a reveal party?” Arrow asked.
“Ashely is pregnant. She wants to find out what Ashley is going to have.”
“Yes!” I interrupted. “They want to know if Ashely will have a baby or a rabbit.”
“No, Dan..” Nazy interjected trying to get a word in.
“You’re right, of course.” I replied. “It could be a baby or a kangaroo.”
“Mamon,” Tiger shouted.”Dan says Ashley is going to have a kangaroo.”
“But — it’s a probably a baby,” I said. “I think Ashley would know if there was a kangaroo in her tummy. Just think about that…”
“Yeah, she couldn’t sleep with a kangaroo jumping up and down …”
“It’s a gender reveal party, Dan.” Nazy interjected.
“Nobody has a gender in their tummy, Nazy.” I replied. “That’s below the tummy.”
It didn’t matter because Tiger was still focused on the kangaroo, “If there is a kangaroo in her tummy, it might bounce and knock her..”
“Dan!” Nazy shouted. “You’re being..”
“Of course, it could be a baby on a pogo stick.” I concluded.
COVID, driven by ‘presidential ineptitude’ and viral fatigue, continues to spread. Everybody is getting tired. Luckily, we can still walk by the ocean and take the children to play outside.
It will be no surprise to regular readers that Nazy and I were delighted by the results of the election. It was also disappointing,..
“… that 70 million people could see, and believe, in Trump’s description of what the future would be if Biden won: socialism (gasp), riots, overreaching presidents). But, simultaneously, they are blind to what has happened (and is happening) while Trump is ‘president’. They hear ‘Socialism’ and see Venezuela, rather than Denmark. But they are blind to the 250,000 people who have died this year from COVID.”
“Trump lost Dan. He has to go. But: How?”
“He could concede and graciously… no scrap that option. Trump has never been gracious about anything.”
“He’s also, according to him, never lost at anything.”
“So, history makes it clear that he won’t admit defeat. Thus, the GOP leadership, which cares about the country will step in and tell him… ha, ha.”
“So, Dan, How..”
“He’ll slink out of town, screaming the whole time that he was ‘cheated’. He will work to disrupt the new President and start a TV show to complain.”
“ i hoped that ‘like a miracle’, Trump will disappear…”
“If only, my dear. But I won’t listen to his TV rantings because I prefer sentences that have structure, not just randomly placed insulting nouns and unpleasant adjectives.”
“Some people still support him.”
“Yes, those are people who would book flights on the Hindenburg’s sister ship because someone showed them a picture of a jet airplane crash. I wonder if any Republican will be brave enough to tell him that he’s not wearing clothes.”
Finally, here in Santa Barbara, we’ll have a very low-keyThanksgiving with just us, Melika, Tom and the local grandchildren. We hope that COVID things will improve by Christmas. In the meantime, we will wear masks, stay physically distant and play with grandchildren.
For last week's letter, please click here
The 200 Year Old Mission
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