Cursive writing should always be taught in school

Oh no they don't--they can't!

Yesterday, there was a piece in our local paper written by Tom Purcell, about the possibility of public schools doing away with cursive writing instruction, see below.

Apparently this is a trend. It has already been decided  in some states that handwriting is no longer going to be taught to students.

One of those states is Indiana, where my son happens to live. He and I got into a rather heated discussion months ago when I first heard that Indiana was considering eliminating cursive writing from the school curriculum.

I was appalled. He said he didn't care.

He has two small kids just entering public school. These are my grand kids and I would like them to know how to write. Perhaps they would write Grandma a letter once in awhile. My son reasoned that they will not need handwriting since they can just use a keyboard. If they have to put something down on paper, they can print. He admitted that he never uses handwriting. He always prints, except for times when he has to sign his name.

I think this is so sad. To me, this is just another example of how all the great and wonderful things about my generation are simply turning to dust.

I always loved handwriting. I often say handwriting was my best subject when I was in school. Indeed I did get A's on it because I really tried hard. For me, it satisfied an artistic need. I always got a thrill from picking out just the right pen. The ink had to flow well; but more importantly, it had to feel good in my hand. I always auditioned a new pen, to see if it enhanced my writing. My favorite was always a fountain pen. I still have one today that I use when writing letters. I consider writing with a fountain pen to be like artwork.

I loved buying new stationery--something I haven't done in years. It isn't as available as it once was. Stationery used to come in every color of the rainbow, with varied sizes, patterns, and textures. My girlfriends and I used to buy each other a pretty box of stationery as a birthday gift. The boxes usually had pretty paper with matching envelopes, all tied in a bow with a pretty ribbon.

Thanks to the ink jet printer, it is still possible to enjoy stationery, except that I have to design and print it myself then cut it to size.

When I was in high school, my boyfriend went in the Army. I used different styles of stationery to write to him every day. A good looking letter was almost as important as a well written one. There was a real sense of pride for me in crafting a good letter.

I admit that most of my writing is done, like everybody else, on the computer. Letters are mostly all typed on plain white paper. I don't mind picking an easier way because I know how to write and the choice is mine. I cannot imagine not having that choice. Typing is faster and easier, but it definitely lacks the flair of a hand-written letter.

I remember writing to my relatives when they were still alive. I always wrote a letter at Christmas. My uncle used to scold me if I sent him a typed one, telling me I have a beautiful handwriting and I should use it. A hand-written letter seems to mean so much more, he told me. At least back then it did.

I still have the last letter written to me by my grandfather. He died early in the 1980's. One look at that letter, and I know it was from my Gramps. I recognize his handwriting. That is something that you don't forget. I received many letters from him. I didn't even have to look at the post mark. I just needed to see the writing on the envelope to know it was Gramps. His letters were unique to him. As it should be.

I tried to get the point across to my son, but to no avail.

I remember quite a few years ago when my mother-in-law wanted me to help her write notes to people who came to Granny's wake and funeral. She asked me to write them because she said I had a nice handwriting. She and I bonded over those notes.

More recently a friend, one that is closer to my son's age than my own, asked her friends on Facebook about the etiquette of writing hand-written thank you notes. The consensus was that it meant more to receive a hand-written note.

Then there are those beautifully written historical documents written by our forefathers: the Declaration of Independence, Bill of Rights and Constitution. Those men had such beautiful handwriting. The words they used to communicate were beautiful words in both their content and appearance. Those remain cherished documents.

I cannot imagine, nor have I heard one argument to justify not teaching cursive writing. Yes, it takes time, but anything worth doing is worth taking some time. Learning cursive was hard for us when we were little kids, but just because something is hard doesn't mean it should be abandoned. I think cursive writing is artistic, and worthwhile. I am so against doing away with it.

Are we so lazy today that all we want to do is learn the bare minimum in school? I cannot imagine not knowing how to write. Texting and keyboarding is not a good replacement. New technology does not mean old technology should eliminate all other options. Consider that voice recognition software will soon replace typing. Does that mean we should no longer learn to type?

That argument doesn't really hold up for eliminating texting. That would not be such a bad idea. A few days ago, I saw a Facebook post that was quite apropos. It said, B-E-F-O-R-E not B4!. We speak English, not Bingo!

Doing away with cursive writing is just more of the dumbing down of our society.

Make it stop! Our children should be at least as smart as we are, and then some. They should be able to do everything we can do, and then some. To me, learning to write in cursive is fundamental. It is communication and art all wrapped into one subject. It is a building block that should remain a part of elementary education. Upon the learning of forming and connecting letters builds an ability to express thoughts and ideas through the written word. It is the fundamental of our beautiful language; our communication with others. It is how we interact.

Chiggers; nature's cruel side

Anyone who knows me, and probably some who don't, knows that I absolutely love living in Arkansas. But I'm realistic too. I know that life can't be beautiful all the time.

This week is one of those weeks. While working in the yard, unbeknownst to me, I became dinner for a thriving, starving chigger (Trombiculidae) population. If you have never been victimized by these heinous varmints, it is nothing like anything you have ever experienced! Tick bites are itchy, but at least you can see ticks. When you notice a tick stuck, head first into your skin, you kinda know there is gonna be an itch there. The same is true for mosquitoes, although sometimes they can be invisible too. But mosquito bites are nothing compared to chiggers. Chigger bites are a surprise. You don't see them coming. And the result is pure misery.

I've read plenty about these creepy insects. Contrary to popular belief, they do not burrow into your skin. Rather they insert a feeding tube into which they inject an enzyme which destroys the host tissue. This is what causes the intense itching.

The internet is filled with information, home remedies; some of which are pretty bazaar, and prevention tips.

There must be a world population explosion of chiggers in our front yard too, because I have become their prey. I made a joke on Facebook recently. I made the claim that human beings are not at the top of the food chain. That slot is taken by chiggers, ticks, and mosquitoes. We are beneath them. They are our predators. They feed on us, and what a feast they must have had, on me, judging by all the little red bumps on my skin, nearly neck to ankle.

I was pretty proud of myself that day too, doing yard all day, happy to be out on such a beautiful day, That was three days ago. I haven't been outside since. The out-of-doors, which I normally love, now frightens me.

I got so much accomplished that day. Because I was out all day, by the time I came in to take a shower, it was already too late. All those tiny red bumps started to appear. No area was sacred. Chiggers are not modest and have no respect for anyone who might be.

Thankfully, I have some great and understanding Facebook friends who offered advice. One woman told me to wash the bites with cold water and then to apply rubbing alcohol. She also said to use Aveeno lotion to apply afterward. I've tried this application and it does have some benefit, albeit temporary.

I was also advised a few years ago from a woman I met in a local shop, to use Fels-Naptha soap, which has long been used for treating stains in laundry. I tried that too. It does provide temporary relief for the infernal itching.

Then there is my other favorite, ChiggerX, an over-the-counter cream that for some reason provides soothing, temporary relief. Stores around here keep plenty of it in stock, thank goodness.

With all three of these remedies, at least I've been able to sleep. I keep a supply of ChiggerX on the table next to the bed, so in the middle of the night, it is easy to reach for the jar and apply to the itchy spot, without even opening my eyes. As long as my eyes don't open, getting back to sleep is easy.

Monday night, my husband applied the chigger killer poison spray throughout the front yard, so when I work up the courage, I can go back outside to keep up with the gardening chores. I absolutely hate using poison on the ground, but I hate chiggers more.

I think the worst of it is over. I'll be anxious to once again love putzing in the garden and enjoying life again.

Related articles

• How do you treat chigger bites?

Bring on the Monarchs

Monarch Butterfly Danaus plexippus Milkweed (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The weather has been so absolutely lovely, that I couldn't help but get into a little spring cleaning in the yard. I actually wanted to burn brush, so to prepare for that, I set out to create a clearing by using the leaf blower.

I proceeded to blow all the leaves away from the driveway and small turn around area, aiming them at a huge brush pile at the end of the driveway. I also wanted to clean out an area next to it where some cedar trees had sprouted, crowding out the oak trees.

My husband, John, took care of that chore with the chain saw and loppers. It is amazing how many little things grow where they don't belong.

The job proved to be much more time-consuming and labor-intensive than I ever intended, so we never did get around to lighting a match. During this leaf-blowing extravaganza though, I made a wonderful discovery. I found two milkweed plants at the base of an oak tree. There could be more, but these two were recognizable because they still contained seed pods.

Coincidentally, I've been haranguing on Facebook lately about Monarch Butterflies. They are one of the few butterfly species that migrate. They are in jeopardy for many reasons, but one of them is because of the strong herbicides being used in genetically modified (GMO) corn production, which I've also mentioned a dislike for on Facebook once or twice.

Milkweed is vital to the Monarch because the female Monarch lays her eggs on milkweed. In the larvae stage, the caterpillars only eat milkweed plants. These plants are basically essential to the survival of these beautiful butterflies.

I've always had a special place in my heart for them. As a small child I chased them around in fields. I've observed them, photographed them, and just plain enjoyed watching them. I cannot imagine life on earth without them.

I had even considered looking for a source of milkweed seeds to plant in the yard. Now I have my own source.

So, c'mon Monarchs. Our place is Monarch-friendly. Y'all are welcome here any time and you may stay as long as you like.

Related articles

• Study: GMO crops are killing butterflies
• Milkweed and the Dance of Life
• Monsanto's Roundup Ravaging the Butterfly Population

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MySpace and Facebook, treasured communication tools

I just had a conversation with a friend on Facebook about the benefit of social media.

For me, MySpace and Facebook present an opportunity to "reach out and touch someone," just like the slogan in the 1980's for long distance phone giant AT&T. Ma Bell is still an important part of everyday life, but she has her competition today. Personally, I'd rather do my reaching out through cyberspace.

For my part, I enjoy how social networking sites like MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter, all of which I use, has allowed me to connect to others in a way that not long ago wasn't even possible.

My family is small. Like many families, we aren't very good at keeping in-touch. We have even slacked off on that annual Christmas card exchange, once a time-honored tradition. Also, my husband and I have recently moved to another state, so we left behind many good friends and family.

Communication is so important. MySpace and Facebook have allowed me to link with cousins I haven't seen in years. I've re-connected with friends from our former neighborhood. I've even found some friends from high school that I haven't even thought about in years. Just seeing their names and an updated picture of them, brings me back to those carefree days of my youth. Memories long buried have come flooding back. I've begun regular communication with my brother who I rarely see.

My children have accounts, so we can supplement our phone conversations, with our on-line chats. I can see pictures of my grandkids readily, thanks to the advancement of digital photography and the ease of sharing. It is like being a part of their lives in a way that might not have been possible any other way.

I know there are drawbacks, but for me, social media has been a communication tool and a very positive experience.

Disappointed in Classmates.com

I'm very disappointed by Classmates.com

I just love the internet! Since the days of playing Trivia online at Q-Link with the Commodore 64 in the early 1980's, I have been enamored with the global potential of linking with others via computer. The internet has done so much for what Q-Link dubbed the 'People Connection.'

Then in the early days when AOL was about the only way to access this brave new world, and then by the painfully slow dialup connection, the internet was filled with free games, free software, free access. Call me old, but I remember how NetZero advertised its free access?

One of those free sites was Classmates.com. It was very cool to sign on and link up with old friends from high school. There were names buried in the back of our conscious minds that we hadn't even thought about in years and never dreamed we would be in touch with again. It was so long ago that it was hard to even remember if the names we saw were friend or foe. It really didn't matter. It was just nice to recognize their name. And then to put a face to that name was even more satisfying--like a memory test that we've passed with flying colors.

While I have thrilled at meeting new friends and now revel in connecting with those who had somehow slipped out of my daily life, the internet has had its disappointments.

At the risk of sounding like Michael Moore in his latest movie about the negatives of Capitalism, I am disappointed in how everyone and their uncle wants my money I don't have. I get annoyed with all the marketing that is done online, and I get frustrated by how what used to be free online is now charging a fee. But, the one thing that I really am appalled by is the road taken by Classmates.com.

I was once a real fan of Classmates.com, but no more. Not only was this a free site when I joined it, but I even told friends about it. It was a wonderful website. But instead of using advertising on the site to pay its bills, the site uses other 'tactics' to try to entice membership. I can't believe anyone falls for it.

I get emails all the time that say, so-and-so signed your guestbook and if you want to know who it is, give us money. Call me cheap, but I refuse to pay for such a thing, especially when there are other and better ways to achieve the same result. Facebook has done a far better job in connecting classmates than Classmates.com. I have really enjoyed my Facebook connections from high school. Reconnecting has been wonderful on so many levels.

Shame on you Classmates.com.

Playing Video Games

I'm not a bad person; so what if I get a little obsessed now and then?

Since the onset of my computer life, I have obsessed over computer games. There have been so many wonderful ways to wile away the hours that it almost defies logic. I'm sure I will one day wish I could have all those hours back.

But for now, I don't consider this time spent as a waste. It is almost like therapy. It allows my mind to wander free from the stresses of the day. Then again, it often creates a kind of stress of its own, but it is one that disappears easily. Rarely do I stay awake thinking about computer games. Now that I think about it, I do recall dreaming about them though.

I recall when I was pregnant with my second child, it began as I spent hours playing Space Invaders on the old Atari 2600.

Since that time in the early 1980's, I cannot count all the different games I've enjoyed. They seem to come in phases. I am a loyal game player.

For a time I was a Sim City freak. As an opponent of urban sprawl and rampant development, playing this game gave me a sense of understanding of the other side. I also enjoyed playing Sim Farm with these two games being the yin and yang of my Sim life.

For a long time, I played a frenzied Mahjongg. I even began collecting different versions. Some had great graphics. Others played calming, zen-like music. The one I played the most, however, was an old version from Galaxy Games. It is so old, that it isn't even available anymore, although many other versions of Mahjongg abound.

That is a real source of aggravation - falling in love with a game only to have all support discontinued.

That happened to me with one of my current favorites, Mind Your Marbles. I was so enamored with this game that I bought it from Big Fish Games. I own the game, have the original documentation, and the original code to run it. But Big Fish changed its system. When I bought a laptop I contacted the company to see why my code didn't work on my new computer. They said they no longer supported that game, even though my license was for a lifetime. I refuse to buy it again.

I wrote to other companies that sell Mind Your Marbles, but they won't honor a game from Big Fish Games, even if it is the same game. They could care less about my feelings. So, I'll never buy another game again. So many are available online anyway.

I do have several games from Big Fish that work with no problem -- probably because they are more recent. My favorite is Upwards, a fun variant of Scrabble, which I also play regularly. As a writer, I cannot live without word games. I admit that I am a fast typist, so playing these keep my vocabulary and typing skills well-honed.

The latest obsession that keeps me more than occupied is a Facebook game --Bubble Spinner by Mind Jolt Games. These simple arcade-style games are my favorites. I am not a fan of the graphic killer games, although I did love Castle Wolfenstein. I had that game when it was first introduced for the Commodore 64. That was a very long time ago.

As obsessed as I am, I am probably even more competitive. I admit that I get a kick out of winning. Striving to be the best you can be is not a bad thing.

I believe my competitive nature is inherited, and it is undeniable. Ask my daughter who also got the gamesman gene. The two of us go head-to-head often. I whip her at Scrabble, but she beats me in our all-time Mahjongg challenge. She has me by a few seconds. She and I don't play the game as it was intended. We play it as a personal challenge to beat each others' times, clearing the board as quickly as we can. I believe her record is 1.21 minutes. Mine is 1.23. I chalk it up to the generation gap. I admit that she is just plain faster than me.

There are so many game sites available online now -- offering free game play if you have the patience to deal with the multitude of advertisements that appear.

If you have a favorite game, let me know. I'm always open to a good challenge.

Facebook and high school

I just love Facebook. It is so much fun to challenge my memory and reconnect with people far away from my daily thoughts.

I have been scouring the names of old classmates, struggling for some kind of recognition. At first, it was all a blur. The more I see though, the more it is coming back to me. I suppose I must mention that I graduated from Proviso West High School 39 years ago. It is no wonder I've forgotten things and people.

Funny, there are photographs posted on the school's Facebook page from 'back in the day.' One of them served as the catalyst for all the memories that were so long ago filed neatly away somewhere in my brain. It was a picture of a classroom filled with kids sitting at their desks; it could have been my own classmates for all I knew.

I looked at that picture and stubborn memories started oozing back.

I could feel what it was like to sit at that desk, usually near the front of the room. There was a clock on the wall above the door in every classroom -- how many times did I look at it, wondering when class would be over or when it was time for lunch or to go home? What does that say about my attention span? Above the clock was the speaker for the school's intercom system where the principal made announcements. There was that blackboard. I remember diagramming sentences on it. I wonder, how healthy is all that chalk dust we breathed? Suddenly, it all looked so familiar.

I saw photos of the school building(s) and tried to recall what it felt like to be there. I remember how crowded it was in the hallway during the passing periods. I remember getting off to a corner away from the moving traffic to peer out the window that overlooked the courtyard as I talked with friends, seeing hoards of students below, crossing from one building to another. I remember the smell of chlorine from the swimming pool that permeated the entire building -- "A building," I think it was?

I remember walking out to the bus and scanning the windows to see who had gotten there already. My arms used to ache from carrying books all the time. That would kill me now. And then there were those stairs -- up and down, up and down, three flights -- all day long. I don't recall being winded ever, but certainly would be now. The hallways were dark in the corners, near the stairwells. Different classes were strung out all over the huge school. How did we get from one class to the other in only six minutes? How did we remember where all those classrooms were, or our locker combinations?

Oh how we hated gym class every day. Now I wish I had a "mandatory gym class." I wish I had that opportunity today, courtesy of the public school system. Today, working out is costly. The gymnastics, modern dance, ping-pong, shuffleboard, swimming, tennis, archery -- it was all really fun stuff -- none of which I do anymore nor have I since leaving those hallowed halls.

I looked at the dresses we wore in those day - blue jeans were taboo. How archaic. Today if I'm not wearing blue jeans, I'm in my pajamas. (I prefer the latter).

And who can't recall sitting in class having to wear nylons -- no, not panty hose -- nylons that were held in place by a garter belt. I can't believe a garter belt is considered sexy. Whoever thinks that way was never a female high school student in the late 60's?

I have never been to a high school reunion. I doubt I ever will. But Facebook has given me the next best thing. And I have enjoyed it.

Want to enhance the memory -- go to your high school's website. Just look at the pictures. Read the last issue of the school newspaper. I just did. I looked at the class schedule too and realized there were some classes I would like to sit in on. My, how times have changed.

As I was reading this post, I just got an email from classmates.com. That was a great site until they decided to charge for free communication. Facebook offers so much more for so much less.

Go Panthers!

Good to be a computer geek

I have come to the realization that I simply love my computer. I don't know if I would or could be a writer without it. It has allowing me to make a living over the last 20 years. I cannot imagine trying to hand-write a story or type one on a typewriter. I think 'cut, copy, and paste' has revolutionized writing. The ability to move thoughts from paragraph to paragraph makes writing so easy, allowing for concentration on the story instead of writing mechanics. Of course typing is a must, but I learned that years ago.

I love the social networking sites. It has been fun to meet up again with old friends on Facebook, MySpace, and Twitter. Just this week, I re-connected with an old friend I hadn't seen in years. We live miles apart now, both having moved away from the old neighborhood where we used to talk on the sidewalk, literally for hours. Our young children played together. Now, we are grandparents. And we can share pictures. That is one of the best parts about today's technology. I wouldn't think of going anywhere without my camera. My job as a reporter got me into the habit of carrying a camera, and I continue the practice even when not covering a story. Recording moments in time is now second nature, evidenced by the thousands of images that clog my hard drive.

Yesterday, I watched a movie on Hulu.com. Who would have ever thought you could use this little box on the desk for such activities? I admit to having wasted hours and hours on computer games. I was addicted to Mahjongg for a time. It was the ultimate self-competition until my daughter got involved. With her youthful agility, she beat my score by fractions of seconds. And her winning record will just have to stand. Now I love word games. I don't know that it has helped my vocabulary at all, but it does offer great competition. I love Upwards, and Scrabble too. One of my favorite games is Mind Your Marbles, but that is strictly for relaxation purposes.

I wouldn't be without technology, even though it certainly can be infuriating sometimes. Over the years, I cannot imagine all the hours I've spent trying to solve computer problems, although that was the best way to learn. Trying to solve a computer problem can be annoying, frustrating, aggravating, and time-consuming, but never futile. There is no better feeling than conquering the little box that thinks it knows everything. It is easier to solve problems these days, since typing in the problem into Google will usually yield thousands of people with the same problem. And they tell how they solved it. Thank goodness for a world full of computer pioneers, always anxious to help.

But the best part about today's technology is the ability to communicate. It is fast, easy, and satisfying to connect with others, to share information, and to inspire learning. And then there is blogging ...