A Cursive Breakfast

We had a long & full day. This is how it began for me --as Welsh as Ceridwen could make it, so far from home. Then we pinned silk leeks on our clothes because it's St. David's Day, and we went walking in the neighborhood, stopping to shop a little and have coffee. Then we went on a research mission and inspected the alumnus file of the lawyer who got a certain famous anarchist's would-be assassin out of a mental asylum over a century ago. Then into the city for a few more stops and a bite to eat. Then, a supper that amazed me for its simplicity and its goodness at once. How can pasta with meat sauce taste that good, after I've made it a million times? Ask the sorceress --I sure don't know.

The day ended with me chatting with a guy who has a new & passionate interest in Voltairine de Cleyre, who I know quite a lot about (and have blipped about more than once). I was stunned by one question, about researching in her personal papers in various university libraries: "Are her letter in cursive?" He can't read penmanship because it is no longer taught in American schools.

What was I supposed to say? Yes, people were really into writing those cursive letters back in the 19th Century...

The joy of teaching!