Last month on Twitter, there was a posting from Dr. Jacobs' always enlightening TextPatterns about manual typewriters. I followed the links on his post to an article from The Guardian about how some writers prefer to use manual typewriters instead of word processors. Cormac McCarthy's manual typewriter was being auctioned off for $15,000. Wow.
One of the points made by authors who use typewriters was that they require you to think more prior to writing. Which leads me to conclude that there is much that is written now that would benefit greatly from this approach, and to assume that it would also probably serve to prevent a lot of what is written from coming into being in the first place. Typing on a manual requires so much more deliberative effort, making it more serious somehow.
And the articles lead me to reminisce about typewriters and then to think about how word processors have changed our world for the (mostly) better.
My mom taught me to type on a manual typewriter. I got an electric one later which I lugged off to college. It came with its own case and weighed about 40 pounds. I earned spending money typing and editing (and sometimes rewriting entirely) other students' papers. Living in an engineering dorm brought a steady income stream. I now have my father-in-law's electric which I use for tax forms - always praying that the ink won't run out because I'm pretty sure they don't make those ribbons anymore. My kids find it fascinating - like dinosaur bones. I love the sound it makes when the keys are depressed and the satisfying whirr of the carriage return. Oh, and the clunk of the shift key. The whole sound experience makes me feel very, very productive.
I got my first computer in 1984. The "pre-writing thinking" referred to in the Guardian article was rendered largely unnecessary given the editing capabilities of word processors. And as the speed and capacity of the processors improved, I became used to thinking less prior to writing as I could copy, paste, delete and retrieve pretty much at will. I do love to type, but it takes so much less effort to produce and send things off on a computer.
And no virtually everything that is typed is sent off via email, Twitter, FaceBook and blogs. We fling out little bits of information that require neither structure nor context (which can't be given in 140 characters and a smiley face anyway), and little, if any, thought - which is okay, as they may or may not ever be read. It is coming at little cost; for the price of monthly internet access and a computer, I can type myself silly.
There is a lot that's good about this, as a record of everything I've ever written or researched is handy by when I want to check on something, although sometimes I look back and realize what I typed was either immature, unkind or just plain wrong. For our kids, while plagiarism is easier using copy and paste than it used to be (we had to work for it by typing each word we were copying from the encyclopedia ourselves), there is now a website called turnitin.com that the teenagers in our school district have to turn everything into, which automatically checks for copying. We've sent letters, pictures and music via computers and little by little we're saving the trees. And we can write things and send them immediately, when we realize we've forgotten a birthday or anniversary.
But, to me, the true glory of using a word processor is most evident when you have to do multiple, slightly different versions of something you're sending out to different audiences. For example, when my child was instructed to write the same introspective paper about an event that changed her life for the fifth year in a row. Leaving aside the sheer absurdity of asking a fourth grader to write such a paper based on ten years of life, each year we found that you can just change the name of the teacher at the top of the paper, tweak it a bit, print it off and turn it in. This year, in her more mature state, she ventured that perhaps she should be writing a new paper this year (not that she had anything to add at that point). I said that, while she could, if the education program was disconnected enough to make teachers ask the same question for five years running, then they deserved the same amount of effort from her that it took to make the assignment in the first place. And typing the whole thing all over again, yep, too much effort.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
The Great Divorce
Currently our small group is reading C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce. An allegorical tale of a man who dies and gets on a bus to a large grassy plain. He meets various characters along the way, many of whom get met by emissaries who are sent to help lead these ghosts across the plain, up to the mountains and into perfect love and joy, if only they'll give up the chains that bind them to hell.
It's been a year or so since I've read any Lewis - and I'd forgotten how much I end up wincing as I recognize myself. I have a friend who says that if you read Scripture correctly, it should pinch you. Clive Staples is like that for me; I'm only a little ways into it and am already bruised.
I am listening to the book on CD in the car and am meeting the parade of characters, many of whom I resemble on some level: whining, pride, grudging duty, not accepting help, looking for how I was wronged or what I'm owed. It's terribly annoying and terribly necessary. I have to determinedly resist the temptation to listen and identify these traits in other people I know, rather than seeking to root out my own sin.
Throughout this uncomfortable exercise, however, I get glimpses of the picture, painted so deftly by Lewis, of heaven. One of selfless joy, of complete love and of a far better life. And so I keep listening because, when all is said and done, the chains of sin are really heavy and I don't want to carry them around. I do want to experience, on a more consistent basis, the sheer relief of letting go and letting God.
It's been a year or so since I've read any Lewis - and I'd forgotten how much I end up wincing as I recognize myself. I have a friend who says that if you read Scripture correctly, it should pinch you. Clive Staples is like that for me; I'm only a little ways into it and am already bruised.
I am listening to the book on CD in the car and am meeting the parade of characters, many of whom I resemble on some level: whining, pride, grudging duty, not accepting help, looking for how I was wronged or what I'm owed. It's terribly annoying and terribly necessary. I have to determinedly resist the temptation to listen and identify these traits in other people I know, rather than seeking to root out my own sin.
Throughout this uncomfortable exercise, however, I get glimpses of the picture, painted so deftly by Lewis, of heaven. One of selfless joy, of complete love and of a far better life. And so I keep listening because, when all is said and done, the chains of sin are really heavy and I don't want to carry them around. I do want to experience, on a more consistent basis, the sheer relief of letting go and letting God.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
In the Company of the Stars
Every evening, somewhere about news time, our dog Amy asks to go out. She actually has to take care of "business" about half the time. The other half of the time, despite our imploring her to do something, she stands there and sniffs the air.
So while I wait on the speckled pup, I look up at the stars. Our house faces south and, during the winter, the nightly show includes Orion, the hunter, and his two dogs, Canis Major and Minor. The legend goes that he was a hunter in love with Merope, who does not love him. He dies after stepping on a scorpion (scorned and scorpioned, poor guy). Feeling sorry for the hunter, the gods placed him in the sky with his two dogs, kindly putting the scorpion far away on the other side of the sky so that he'd not be hurt again. For the last few nights, it's been too cloudy to see anything, but tonight there were moving clouds and I got a glimpse of Orion's belt and shoulder.
And took pleasure in the company, both of us out there with a dog.
So while I wait on the speckled pup, I look up at the stars. Our house faces south and, during the winter, the nightly show includes Orion, the hunter, and his two dogs, Canis Major and Minor. The legend goes that he was a hunter in love with Merope, who does not love him. He dies after stepping on a scorpion (scorned and scorpioned, poor guy). Feeling sorry for the hunter, the gods placed him in the sky with his two dogs, kindly putting the scorpion far away on the other side of the sky so that he'd not be hurt again. For the last few nights, it's been too cloudy to see anything, but tonight there were moving clouds and I got a glimpse of Orion's belt and shoulder.
And took pleasure in the company, both of us out there with a dog.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Cross-eyed and deaf
I got new glasses today. I've been waiting for two weeks to get them and am trying to adjust. It's not going so well. The lenses are "progressive," which apparently means I have to cross my eyes to see just right. If I accomplish this cross-eyed thing, things come into startlingly good focus. Which is cool. But, if not, and if I'm not pointing my nose in the direction of what I'm trying to see, things get blurry. So I have to move my head a lot, which I don't do. And I've waited 15 days to be annoyed and I paid for it, too.
Then there's this weird effect that not seeing well has on me. I feel like if I can't see well, then I can't hear well. At which point, I might as well check on out and take a nap. While I love naps, I know I'll wake up no better.
I'm giving these puppies a weekend. If they're not better, I'm going to march right on back in there and...ask very politely for some help.
Then there's this weird effect that not seeing well has on me. I feel like if I can't see well, then I can't hear well. At which point, I might as well check on out and take a nap. While I love naps, I know I'll wake up no better.
I'm giving these puppies a weekend. If they're not better, I'm going to march right on back in there and...ask very politely for some help.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Monday's Hymn
Yesterday at Bible Study we talked about living in, but not in, modern Babylon. We talked about prophesy and eschatology from the book of Daniel and then we gathered around the piano and sang one of my favorite hymns. Reveling in the sovereignty and protection of God. Once again, Monday was sweet.
Holy, Holy, Holy
by Reginald Heber
Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee;
Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessèd Trinity!
Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee,
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee,
Who was, and is, and evermore shall be.
Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide Thee,
Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see;
Only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee,
Perfect in power, in love, and purity.
Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
All Thy works shall praise Thy Name, in earth, and sky, and sea;
Holy, holy, holy; merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessèd Trinity!
Holy, Holy, Holy
by Reginald Heber
Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee;
Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessèd Trinity!
Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee,
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee,
Who was, and is, and evermore shall be.
Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide Thee,
Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see;
Only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee,
Perfect in power, in love, and purity.
Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
All Thy works shall praise Thy Name, in earth, and sky, and sea;
Holy, holy, holy; merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessèd Trinity!
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Christmas Letter 2009
Every year I send out a Christmas letter to my family and some of our friends. I've edited this one slightly, but this is it.
We're heading into Christmas 2009 pretty sad as my mother-in-law, Rose Marie, passed away last week. She was 80, mom of six, grandma of nine. We'd gotten a call late morning saying she wasn't doing well and she was gone by the evening. She was with most of her kids and those who couldn't be there spoke to her over the phone. She wasn't in pain for which we are very grateful. She'd been saying for the last few years that she was just going to fly away and was ready to go. One of my friends said she pictured Mom going from our loving hands into the arms of her Savior which we find comforting.
So, tissues in hand, we are getting ready for the holiday. My husband's very busy at work with projects due by the end of the year. He's headed to Bangkok for a two weeks in late January, but as he has escaped business travel for most of this year, I'm trying not to grumble about it. He's found time to do a little genealogy research here and there, which is an interesting hobby.
We will have been married for 25 years next August and are planning to celebrate with by going to Europe for a couple of weeks. We'll be taking the kids, but they have told us that if we hand them cash, they'll go off to shop and leave us alone to play kissy-face. Sounds romantic to me...sort of...
Our oldest has decided that he wants to be a middle school math teacher. He did Intro to Teaching at the high school where he spent time at one of the local jr. highs, and loved it. He's been accepted to a college in middle school math education and is looking forward to going. He's checking into music there also, as he'd like to continue with the bass. We just have to figure out where he'd store it as the dorm rooms are small.
He spent part of last summer up at the Christian camp he goes to and took the counselor training program. He was given a cabin with some special needs kids and enjoyed the challenge. He spends a lot of time with his friends and not so much studying (although finals are this week, so he's actually studying). He's playing in the top jazz band and orchestra this year, and is heading to San Francisco for an orchestra field trip at Spring Break. He's reveling in being a Senior - life is good at the top.
His sister is likewise looking forward to his going away to school as she has designs on his room. She's a freshman this year and is enjoying high school. She got off to rough start as one of her good friends passed away in October from the H1N1 virus and an underlying heart defect. Her friends have pulled together to help each other through, and are very tightly knit.
She's playing the alto recorder in a Renaissance quartet with three friends. They wear costumes and they sound and look lovely. She's thinking that she'd like to play in an orchestra when she graduates college. She wants to ditch the honors science and math classes but I told her she'll at least need the math classes to manage what little money she might earn wisely. Sean told her she could live at home, which earned him a big eye roll. She spent a week at flute camp down at our old school, playing flute six hours a day and is signing up for more next summer.
I have more grey hairs, more wrinkles and am more (well) rounded. I did my usual trips to Galena and in the Spring we explored the wine region of Eastern Iowa. They produce some respectable wines, particularly using the Chambourcin grape from Missouri. In the Fall we went to a grape stomp in Elizabeth, Illinois, standing in tubs, stomping on grapes and staining our feet purple. We then sat outside, overlooking the rolling hills and vineyards, drinking wine and eating crackers with cheese and honey and jam while admiring our pretty purple tootsies. That was a very good day.
We spent a week with my family up at the lake in early June. We're usually there over the 4th of July, so it was much chillier than normal. I ended up in the Urgent Care Clinic with a case of systemic poison ivy which landed me with prescriptions of Prednisone, which is a drug that makes you wired and nervous, and, I'm told, irritating to be around. I was wired and nervous, anyway, everybody else was irritating...or irritated, it was one of the two. Fortunately, I'm over that.
At the end of June, I went to Texas as a delegate to the Inaugural Conference for the Anglican Church of North America. I got to see my cousins and had a great (albeit warm) time. Texas in June – 102 degrees 90% humidity. I ran VBS again at church for what was my 13th and last year. I'm tickled with the lady who's taking it over from me as she's very enthusiastic about it and is already working on curriculum. I'm also teaching the K-1 class on Wednesday nights. We have about 12 kids who show up on a regular basis and I love them all.
I have bible study twice a week – we've begun a study on Daniel at church and I'm doing a study on Isaiah with our couples group women. Instead of doing housework, I've been learning Braille and am considering going back to school to get a Masters in Special Ed. One of these years I'll decide what I want to be when I grow up – which would, sadly, require me to grow up. I have also started to blog a bit, which helps me to think things through. My blog is www.livedahobbit.blogspot.com entitled “In a Hole...There Lived a Hobbit.” after the opening lines of The Hobbit. I took one of those on-line quizzes about which character from the Lord of the Rings are you? And I am a hobbit in my love of food and company – which explains my rounded little self. I do not, however, have hairy feet.
My parents are mostly fine. My mom has had some health issues, but has more energy than she has had in a while, so it's good to see her moving around. We were with her side of the family in Minnesota, for a reunion and for the interment of my aunt's ashes. We saw the homes my mom grew up in, and had a wonderful time getting to know each other better. Dad is consulting still, which keeps him busy to the extent he wants to be busy. They are a part of a church dinner group and they have a lot of neighborhood activities where they live.
Our dog is snoring away right now after a couple of days at the kennel while we were busy with the wake and funeral on the south side. She's more of a couch potato and is barking a bit less as she matures. Which is good.
We are excited about our kids finishing finals and being able to sleep in, although they'll both have essays to do over the break. We are looking forward, also, to spending Christmas with my husband's family. It will be good to gather. We hope that this letter finds you healthy and well and enjoying Advent
Wishing you all the hope of Christmas.
a.
We're heading into Christmas 2009 pretty sad as my mother-in-law, Rose Marie, passed away last week. She was 80, mom of six, grandma of nine. We'd gotten a call late morning saying she wasn't doing well and she was gone by the evening. She was with most of her kids and those who couldn't be there spoke to her over the phone. She wasn't in pain for which we are very grateful. She'd been saying for the last few years that she was just going to fly away and was ready to go. One of my friends said she pictured Mom going from our loving hands into the arms of her Savior which we find comforting.
So, tissues in hand, we are getting ready for the holiday. My husband's very busy at work with projects due by the end of the year. He's headed to Bangkok for a two weeks in late January, but as he has escaped business travel for most of this year, I'm trying not to grumble about it. He's found time to do a little genealogy research here and there, which is an interesting hobby.
We will have been married for 25 years next August and are planning to celebrate with by going to Europe for a couple of weeks. We'll be taking the kids, but they have told us that if we hand them cash, they'll go off to shop and leave us alone to play kissy-face. Sounds romantic to me...sort of...
Our oldest has decided that he wants to be a middle school math teacher. He did Intro to Teaching at the high school where he spent time at one of the local jr. highs, and loved it. He's been accepted to a college in middle school math education and is looking forward to going. He's checking into music there also, as he'd like to continue with the bass. We just have to figure out where he'd store it as the dorm rooms are small.
He spent part of last summer up at the Christian camp he goes to and took the counselor training program. He was given a cabin with some special needs kids and enjoyed the challenge. He spends a lot of time with his friends and not so much studying (although finals are this week, so he's actually studying). He's playing in the top jazz band and orchestra this year, and is heading to San Francisco for an orchestra field trip at Spring Break. He's reveling in being a Senior - life is good at the top.
His sister is likewise looking forward to his going away to school as she has designs on his room. She's a freshman this year and is enjoying high school. She got off to rough start as one of her good friends passed away in October from the H1N1 virus and an underlying heart defect. Her friends have pulled together to help each other through, and are very tightly knit.
She's playing the alto recorder in a Renaissance quartet with three friends. They wear costumes and they sound and look lovely. She's thinking that she'd like to play in an orchestra when she graduates college. She wants to ditch the honors science and math classes but I told her she'll at least need the math classes to manage what little money she might earn wisely. Sean told her she could live at home, which earned him a big eye roll. She spent a week at flute camp down at our old school, playing flute six hours a day and is signing up for more next summer.
I have more grey hairs, more wrinkles and am more (well) rounded. I did my usual trips to Galena and in the Spring we explored the wine region of Eastern Iowa. They produce some respectable wines, particularly using the Chambourcin grape from Missouri. In the Fall we went to a grape stomp in Elizabeth, Illinois, standing in tubs, stomping on grapes and staining our feet purple. We then sat outside, overlooking the rolling hills and vineyards, drinking wine and eating crackers with cheese and honey and jam while admiring our pretty purple tootsies. That was a very good day.
We spent a week with my family up at the lake in early June. We're usually there over the 4th of July, so it was much chillier than normal. I ended up in the Urgent Care Clinic with a case of systemic poison ivy which landed me with prescriptions of Prednisone, which is a drug that makes you wired and nervous, and, I'm told, irritating to be around. I was wired and nervous, anyway, everybody else was irritating...or irritated, it was one of the two. Fortunately, I'm over that.
At the end of June, I went to Texas as a delegate to the Inaugural Conference for the Anglican Church of North America. I got to see my cousins and had a great (albeit warm) time. Texas in June – 102 degrees 90% humidity. I ran VBS again at church for what was my 13th and last year. I'm tickled with the lady who's taking it over from me as she's very enthusiastic about it and is already working on curriculum. I'm also teaching the K-1 class on Wednesday nights. We have about 12 kids who show up on a regular basis and I love them all.
I have bible study twice a week – we've begun a study on Daniel at church and I'm doing a study on Isaiah with our couples group women. Instead of doing housework, I've been learning Braille and am considering going back to school to get a Masters in Special Ed. One of these years I'll decide what I want to be when I grow up – which would, sadly, require me to grow up. I have also started to blog a bit, which helps me to think things through. My blog is www.livedahobbit.blogspot.com entitled “In a Hole...There Lived a Hobbit.” after the opening lines of The Hobbit. I took one of those on-line quizzes about which character from the Lord of the Rings are you? And I am a hobbit in my love of food and company – which explains my rounded little self. I do not, however, have hairy feet.
My parents are mostly fine. My mom has had some health issues, but has more energy than she has had in a while, so it's good to see her moving around. We were with her side of the family in Minnesota, for a reunion and for the interment of my aunt's ashes. We saw the homes my mom grew up in, and had a wonderful time getting to know each other better. Dad is consulting still, which keeps him busy to the extent he wants to be busy. They are a part of a church dinner group and they have a lot of neighborhood activities where they live.
Our dog is snoring away right now after a couple of days at the kennel while we were busy with the wake and funeral on the south side. She's more of a couch potato and is barking a bit less as she matures. Which is good.
We are excited about our kids finishing finals and being able to sleep in, although they'll both have essays to do over the break. We are looking forward, also, to spending Christmas with my husband's family. It will be good to gather. We hope that this letter finds you healthy and well and enjoying Advent
Wishing you all the hope of Christmas.
a.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Rest In Peace, Rose Marie
My momma-in-law passed away quietly this past Wednesday. We got a call around noon that she wasn't doing well and she was gone by 9:00 p.m. Aged 80, mother of six, grandmother of nine, aunt of eleven. She was our momma bird.
She'd not been doing well the last year or so after a stroke took her vision and parts of her memory.
She was little, funny, sometimes quite acerbic, at times self-absorbed and at times very generous and perceptive. We went through bouts of liking and not liking each other. But, over the last fifteen years, it was mostly all liking. Despite having diabetes for 46 years, she really didn't complain hardly at all. She just kept on going which I admired about her.
It's been a surreal couple of days, with her going as fast as she did, and as the events go on I'm becoming sadder. I know where she is, and am happy she's no longer trapped in her earthly tent, but I'm heading into "sorry for myself" territory now.
Mom was ready to go. Over the last couple of years, usually before we'd go to the dentist, she'd tell met that she'd probably not need another appointment because she was just going to fly away, which we'd chuckle over and tell her that we wanted her to stay with us. Until we saw her on Wednesday and her breathing was labored and we just wanted her to be able to sleep. She wasn't in pain, but her breathing was difficult and would stop momentarily and then continue. So I prayed that she would fly away home, told her that she was free to go at any time, and handed her off to her Savior.
Thursday, we sat down with a lovely man at the funeral home and went through a myriad of detail: what casket went with her outfit; what she'd hold in her hands; what book could be used for sign in. Then there are the flowers, the luncheon, the obituary, the wake hours, the funeral mass decisions...on and on. Thank you God for email as her children decided these things on line.
The wake was Friday. A mixture of people came - family, friends from college, friends from the old neighborhood, friends from church - and talking to those friends enables you to not think about the next day for a bit. I was very touched that so many folks, many of whom had never met her, made the trip down - a good hour or so - to see us.
The funeral is tomorrow and then we'll head over and clean out her room at the nursing home later. Progressively, as she's moved from the apartment there to the assisted living wing to the nursing home, our trips with her stuff have gotten more manageable. Most of it's in our basement and we're hoping to have a clean out party in the not too distant future. I don't mind the stuff - I have a huge, high tolerance for mess - but it should go if it's not being used and some of it really belongs to my husband's siblings.
But that last bit can wait. We'll be together at Christmas, all the McCarthys, and we'll have some time to mourn and laugh together. Now it's off to bed with me. Tomorrow promises to be a longer day than today. Sadly, my black fuzzy crocs don't go with funeral clothing.
She'd not been doing well the last year or so after a stroke took her vision and parts of her memory.
She was little, funny, sometimes quite acerbic, at times self-absorbed and at times very generous and perceptive. We went through bouts of liking and not liking each other. But, over the last fifteen years, it was mostly all liking. Despite having diabetes for 46 years, she really didn't complain hardly at all. She just kept on going which I admired about her.
It's been a surreal couple of days, with her going as fast as she did, and as the events go on I'm becoming sadder. I know where she is, and am happy she's no longer trapped in her earthly tent, but I'm heading into "sorry for myself" territory now.
Mom was ready to go. Over the last couple of years, usually before we'd go to the dentist, she'd tell met that she'd probably not need another appointment because she was just going to fly away, which we'd chuckle over and tell her that we wanted her to stay with us. Until we saw her on Wednesday and her breathing was labored and we just wanted her to be able to sleep. She wasn't in pain, but her breathing was difficult and would stop momentarily and then continue. So I prayed that she would fly away home, told her that she was free to go at any time, and handed her off to her Savior.
Thursday, we sat down with a lovely man at the funeral home and went through a myriad of detail: what casket went with her outfit; what she'd hold in her hands; what book could be used for sign in. Then there are the flowers, the luncheon, the obituary, the wake hours, the funeral mass decisions...on and on. Thank you God for email as her children decided these things on line.
The wake was Friday. A mixture of people came - family, friends from college, friends from the old neighborhood, friends from church - and talking to those friends enables you to not think about the next day for a bit. I was very touched that so many folks, many of whom had never met her, made the trip down - a good hour or so - to see us.
The funeral is tomorrow and then we'll head over and clean out her room at the nursing home later. Progressively, as she's moved from the apartment there to the assisted living wing to the nursing home, our trips with her stuff have gotten more manageable. Most of it's in our basement and we're hoping to have a clean out party in the not too distant future. I don't mind the stuff - I have a huge, high tolerance for mess - but it should go if it's not being used and some of it really belongs to my husband's siblings.
But that last bit can wait. We'll be together at Christmas, all the McCarthys, and we'll have some time to mourn and laugh together. Now it's off to bed with me. Tomorrow promises to be a longer day than today. Sadly, my black fuzzy crocs don't go with funeral clothing.
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