Memories Of Macrame'

The first Saturday of November is a big day in my hometown every year. It’s the annual Fall Festival. I’m pretty sure I’ve only missed a few in my lifetime. This year was number thirty-five. And the Arts and Crafts show has been going on even longer than that.

It is always wonderful to see home folks when I'm there. Friendly, smiling faces. Hugs and more hugs. It's a good feeling.

And lots of conversation.

“Well, hey Johnny! How you been doin’?

“It’s so good to see you! I ain’t seen you in forever!"

“I swear, you look more like your Daddy all the time. Unless you are standing next to your Mom. Then I just can’t decide.”

It seems like just yesterday, I was peddling my macrame' creations at my first Arts and Craft Show.

Yes, I said macrame'.

I was a macrame' professional! I could whip up about anything groovy that you could imagine. From wall hangings that would cover a wall from top to bottom, with decorative clusters of grapes woven into the brown cord with bright purple cord, accented with dark green leaves, to beach scenes woven into an intricate design. From macrame' baby plant hangers, complete with a swing, holding a small stuffed animal, to hanging tables with two glass shelves and a light fixture built in at the top.

One little problem. Glass shelves are heavy. Macrame' cord stretches. That lower glass shelf might get a little closer to your shag carpet. Maintenance will be required. Your tassels will need to be trimmed. And never burn incense on your macrame table. You could start a small macrame' fire. Or so I've heard.

“Do you have any more of those owls, with the bright orange wooden bead eyes? You know, the ones you had made to look like they are sitting on a branch?”

“Why yes ma’am, I do! This is almost the last of the two dozen I brought for the show. I can sell this one, but I’m going to hang on to this last one and take orders from it.”

I took so many orders, I was delivering macrame' owls door to door on Christmas eve.

But soon, macrame' lost it’s popularity. Nobody wanted my owls. My key rings. My plant hangers. It’s a shame. Half hitches, square knots, half knots and Josephine knots still dance in my head. I could still whip up about anything you can imagine.

In macrame'.

So if you ever need a groovy macrame' creation, just holler. I’m your man.

From the mind of me.