It’s cold this morning, having dropped to the low 50s last night. I pulled my houseplants in, so it smells like a greenhouse as I sit at my desk and type. My office is just about the only place downstairs that gets a decent amount of light.
I didn’t get out to the fair last night, and not because of the cold. I missed the figure-eight demolition race, but that’s okay. I spent the night instead trying to make up a new font for Al for the world book. I’d really like to have the curses in his handwriting. It’s a lot more trouble than you’d think first off. I wanted something loopy and elegant, but I’ve always said he’s got cramped handwriting. And loopy and elegant doesn’t translate well to the page. Neither does cramped. It’s also a hundred times more complicated to make a cursive font than a printed one, so I backed off and am trying to make something easy to read and yet distinctively male, yet with some elegance to it. Something that looks like it was written by a very old person who is in a hurry and doesn’t care what his handwriting looks like–and you can still read it. Sure, that’s easy. We’ll see . . .