Calligraphic Folly

I figure the point of doing something like calligraphy is so that you can 'do whatever you want.' It doesn't have to be a poem by Shakespeare written in black ink in an appropriate hand.

In honor of the new year I have dredged up one of my favorite bits of nonsense. I think it appeals to no one except me, and even I sometimes ask myself, when I come across this in my big box of fabric things, "what were you thinking?" Most people look at this and say, "Is it a placemat?" For it is exactly the size of a placemat, just because it worked out that way. And now I'm thinking, what a good idea. Yes, it's a one-of-a-kind placemat.

I think I was thinking of my grandmother. Just because the bit of lace with which I adorned the edges is from a trunk of hers from about a million years ago. I have never yet met anyone else whose house has a 'trunk room.' It was above the old kitchen in her antebellum home and was accessed by going through a little hall and up about five stairs; then it was the room on the right. (The room on the left was the 'back bathroom.') There were marvelous things in those trunks: clothing and accessories from several generations of ancestors. Whenever we played hide-and-seek someone always ended up in the trunk room.

At any rate, I hope the new year contains some folly--in the best sense of the word--for all of us!