Hello Kåre เลียม Enga yes I agree with you, writing by hand seems to produce different outcomes. I’m unsure why that would be but apparently there’s a scientific reason.
Re the topic of using cash. I almost feel sorry for anyone to whom I give a note to. One gets this unspoken irritation even though they no longer need to work out the change as it’s on the till.
As for the younger generation being unable to hold a conversation, I agree. It’s said that there’s never before been a time when there’s been so much interaction between people. But it’s all done by text! None of my Grandchildren will answer a call but are always happy to have a long text conversation.
I only function after coffee. I'm much better in the early afternoon.
10:30 in Costa Rica: time to go home and bring the dry clothes in and make dinner (main meal of the day). It tended to rain in the early afternoon.
10:30 in Thailand: post-exercise, figure out the day. Hot season... seek a/c.
10:30 traveling: usually check out and catch a bus or train.
10:30 Montana: take a shower (M-Th, before 10 F-S) and get out!
10:30 when I worked... you can speak to me now...
My journal is hand-written. I haven't been as diligent and no longer write in it every day. Same with poetry... I write differently with pen and paper.
Even making change from a bill is too much and many places will not take cash forcing people to use banks that can track them... some folks are literally dropping out (sound like the 60s) but cash requires basic math skills.
Also... the ability to just sit and chat. I had an interesting conversation with a 19 year old yesterday. He was shaking... I think it was because he isn't used to talking to anyone older in public.
Ẃeβ࿚Ẃỉtcĥ It’s sad to think it’s dying out. The school curriculum is so busy, far busier than when I went to school, and yet the kids seem to be missing out on much of the basic skills these days. Mental math for instance, many are lost without a calculator. Computers do so much of our thinking for us these days. I know my memory for phone numbers, for example, has deteriorated, we have no need to remember them because they’re all in our phones. Same with spelling; mistakes get automatically adjusted. I wonder if learning to spell will be the next thing to go.
Cursive writing is becoming a lost art unless our youth are being taught it early on in school. I hear they are not teaching that in some schools. I imagine they are taught it in private schools. At least I hope they are since parents are paying tuition. They should get their money's worth. I went to Catholic school growing up. We started learning cursive writing in grade two. Cursive teaches children the fine skill of shaping letters and connecting them to create words and sentences. That is good brain exercise.
It really is sad watching a loved one who has Alzheimer's slipping away. My sister-in-law passed away two years ago from Alzheimer's. It's a horrible disease. My wish is that they can find a cure for it.
Dementia and Alzheimers is never easy for family members watch as it takes away a loved one's memories and often leaves the body still living. My husband's grandmother lived with Alzheimers. My own grandmother had dementia. I don't think loved ones are really prepared to deal with it. The challenges really bring out the best or the worst in the supporting family members. Our last dog, Amelia, who was such a sweetie, got something in her lungs and it made it impossible for her to eat. Ultimately we made the decision to euthanize her and I cried like a baby, realizing just how much I cared for her, and I didn't really appreciate it at the time. I have learned a lot from all the pets I've had. They're great teachers. for Yvonne.
Use these words in your entry today: magical, harpschord, eventful, occasional, minstrel, clowns, and emergency vehicles.
Even though I live out of the city, the sound of emergency vehicles can often be heard racing up the highway. We’ve lived here in this quiet hillside town for over forty years. Once upon a time this was an un eventful place with perhaps the occasional police car zipping past chasing a stupid people acting like clowns, speeding in our 60 kilometre zone.
The town holds its own carnival each year with a minstrel or two playing the harpsichord on the street and the mayor dressed up and handing out sweets to the children. It transforms our town into a magical place where the townspeople can believe, just for a day, that we’ve stepped back in time to how our lives were in a different era.
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