So little time to write! This morning, at least. We are off soon for another fun visit with friends, and I still haven’t had a chance to write about our marvelous visit with the Edmisten clan, who (amazing, this!!) drove four hours to meet us in Kansas the other day. Four hours. Each way. I mean, really. A. MAZE. ING.
And then there are all the stories and snippets from the trip, the ones too long to type into a PDA. Soon, soon. (I am promising myself. Must chronicle travels or else explode into teeny tiny bits of untold tales. Story shrapnel?)
Of course I’ll be forever in Alice’s debt (again) for taking notes on all the things I babbled into my wireless headset on the drive. She is the best kind of friend, the kind who not only doesn’t MIND if you interrupt her on the phone to maniacally shriek LOOK LOOK GIRLS A BURROWING OWL ON THE FENCEPOST OH RATS YOU MISSED IT!!!!! I’m sorry, Alice, you were saying?, she even writes down what you’re shrieking about. She also says far nicer things about me than I deserve, but you can just skip over those parts. She is totally biased, and we should all just be very frank about that. Whenever she uses words like "descriptive," "spontaneous," and "adventurous," you should substitute "longwinded," "flaky," and "nuts." Just so you know.
On a totally unrelated note (except that it’s about WRITING and see how cleverly I have tied it to the title of this post?), the Washington Post has an article today about cursive handwriting: how keyboarding is turning cursive into a dying art, and how many college applicants today can barely read cursive much less write a legible hand, and how there seems to be a link between cognitive development and cursive handwriting. Most of the homeschoolers I know do teach cursive (or, in my case, throw a cursive workbook at an eight-year-old girl and leave her alone with some gel pens, because all those swirls are ooh, so pretty!), so I was interested to read that few public schools spend much time on it nowadays.
Standing on a Corner Down in Winslow Arizona
Everyone Is My Best Friend
Because Moving Five Kids Across the Country Isn’t Excitement Enough
Month of Motivation: I’m Stuffed
So, Um, How’re Those Closets Coming?