Just wrote a long blog and didn't like it...so I scrubbed it and will begin again. Could never write for a living you know...I'd spend most of the day flying into a temper and deleting everything...couldn't write in long hand either because my handwriting is the absolute pits. I make notes about stuff and then haven't the faintest idea what they say...
So if it's important, I write slowly and very carefully in upper case but even my upper case lettering is indecipherable at times.
Filling in forms is a total nightmare because there's never enough room...even my library card renewal form has me hot and bothered as I try to squeeze the address into two lines.
I'll blame it on using a Biro...school teachers always said they'd be the ruin of our handwriting and I'm beginning to think they might have been right. We weren't allowed to use a Biro for school work...everything had to be written out in proper pen and ink though we'd managed to progress as far as using cartridge pens which were less messy than a bottle of Quink.
There were basic rules which have stayed with me...never to use green ink when writing a formal letter...certainly avoid red ink...that was considered to be quite beyond the pale...and never, but never, use lined writing paper.
It was Basildon Bond every time with it's helpful lined sheet to slip under the plain paper to give you a guide and a piece of blotting paper at the front.
We learned to write formal letters and letters to elderly relatives and sometimes, on a Friday afternoon when the English teacher wanted to go home now this minute...we were allowed to write interesting letters to penfriends.
Our school exercise books were meant to remain pristine at all times and be devoid of ink blots and smudges...they never did though. Dog-eared and tatty and covers inscribed with doodles they'd be piled up on the teachers desk to be marked with red ink...because that was allowed.
We laboured long over forming a perfect loop below the line and everyone's writing turned out exactly the same without any deviation whatsoever...it wasn't until we reached early teens that teachers began to loosen the rules and then we were away...developing our own style...neat and tidy or scratching away like a demented spider.
People don't write now...they Tweet or Twitter and use shortened versions of words...they send endless instant messages with 'U' sprinkled about and I doubt many would have much idea about how to write a letter...even the formal letters I receive for hospital appointments and such like are addressed to Sue Scarfe...can't remember the last time I was called Mrs...actually, I can, it was only a couple of days ago when Jenny sent me a package...she addressed it properly but then she and I were brought up and schooled in much the same way.
There was a certain ceremony in receiving a proper letter...neatly addressed with the right postage...you'd open it eagerly to read and savour while sitting down with a cup of coffee and a biscuit. And I'd always slit the envelope open with a knife...not rip it apart which I confess to doing now.
Perhaps it doesn't matter much if our handwriting is quirky...maybe using abbreviations when texting is necessary...not being familiar with texting I have a feeling I'd still write out every word because I don't know the abbreviated forms...
With Skype and so on, letters are probably totally un-necessary, having the art of penmanship is disappearing fast...but when I send a card to a small girl I'll still address it to Miss Jane Smith...and to a little boy then it'll be Master James Smith...I virtually have to stop myself from addressing an envelope to a grown man as John Smith Esq. though I do slip sometimes and use that form because it makes the letter enclosed more...important.
We have some rather odd neighbours who live across the way from us...we receive a card each Christmas sent by mail addressed to Nevill Scarfe and his wife...I'd quite like to scream over the spelling of Neville and they know my name perfectly well...but does it much matter...I suppose it doesn't.