So, yesterday was utter, unadulterated shit. Today has to be better, because I'm too tired for it to be worse. This morning I have a raging headache, and it's still, so far, a better day than was yesterday. At least there's intermittent sunlight out there, and it's a little warmer. Currently, in Providence, it's 79˚F, which a heat index of 82˚F.
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I was taught English cursive in elementary school. I don't use it to write myself-I have a kind of print with ligatures-but I can read it along with several other hands from different centuries. It is very weird to think of letters and cards from within my lifetime (that I received just the other week) being as inaccessible to future generations as seventeenth-century secretary hand, but it is unacceptably weird to think of those future generations being the children of my friends. I hope it does not die out that quickly. It's not irrelevant.
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I had not been aware of this. I know that my Polish instructor had commented last week on it becoming less and less common for Americans to write in cursive (this had sprung up in conversation because I was having difficulty reading certain letters in her cursive writing and I had been writing all my notes in print, which was just a personal preference), but I hadn't thought the reality would be to this extent. Both reading and writing in cursive are skills people will need.
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