Memories of Grandpa

IIt's funny how the mind makes connections, isn't it? Reading a blog post the other day about how to fake calligraphy, made me think that I didn't need to fake calligraphy since I know how to do it. In fact, I have all the accoutrements: ink, dip pens, crow quill pens, cartridge calligraphy pens and the standard school cartridge pen.

Where did that old cartridge pen go to? The one grandpa gave to me when I was still in high school. I found it in a baggie with the other pens. Did it still work? After soaking for hours in a warm water bath to which several drops of dish detergent was added, it was put into the sonic pen cleaner. I let the pen cleaner run for eight hours in the hope that if there was dried up ink inside the pen head it would  soften enough and float out to make the pen usable. All this cleaning worked and the pen works too!

I ♥ this pen because it is a physical link to a grandfather long gone. He was a gentle man with wonderful values. In the early 1900's he played the tuba in the local marching band.  Always surrounded by women, he raised not only his two biological daughters but a step daughter, all to be wonderful women. As a teenager, I spent a lot of time at my grandfather's house and I am richer for it. Remember that oak rocking chair in my last post? That was my grandpa's chair.

I love how a simple pen has brought back memories.