Or should I say, Hubbie’s lovely handwriting.
Isn’t it awfully ironic (if I am indeed using this much-err’d expression correctly) that even though I am a writer, I have horribly inconsistent and scrawly writing?
I had to fill out a lengthy form today, and there was no avoiding the fact that I had to actually put pen to paper. Don’t get me wrong, I love the old-fashioned idea of writing things by hand, and receiving letters… but I need to be in a cool climate, with the right pen (medium), using rough paper – not too smooth – and preferably not hungry or tired…
Then, and only then, I might get lucky and start writing really well after 2 pages.
Today I was desperate, rushed, not feeling well, and after a few unsuccessful attempts at filling out this form, and holding my head in my hands, Hubbie asked “do you want me to do it for you?”
I am so grateful for his penmanship.