Freshening Linens

I can't explain to you the effect that laundering and ironing linens has on me. But it's similar to what a trip to the spa might be for a normal person.


Unlike creating something out of nothing, one BEGINS with an already beautiful article. Plain or fancy. And I tend not to discriminate. I love my heavy natural linen table covers every bit as much as a dainty lace-edged handkerchief.



And then there is the endless variety! Colors, shapes, sizes! Embroidery, lace, vintage prints!



I find linen with the lost art of tatted lace impossible to pass by. Sometimes people confuse it with crochet, but it is made with a tiny shuttle, one loop at a time, instead of a hook. That's tatting on the left.


Another serious weakness of mine is embroidery. I find a tea cloth like this pink worked one and react like it was a baby kitten abandoned next to the freeway!



Okay so that's the visual part. If you are regular, you make your bed with newer linens of a variety of blended weaves. Nice stuff you don't have to iron. But when I get into a freshly laid bed of vintage cottons and linens with smooth ironed pillowcases and lay my head down, it's like floating on a cloud and getting a massage at the same time! Oooooooh! Aaaaaaa!



It's definitely one of the things that makes my kids keep coming back home to visit! HA!



And I bet you love old clothespins every bit as much as I do. Little irresistible shaped pieces of wood with a patina. So simple. So beautiful.



I could have buckets full!



I have yet to restore these delicate sheer handkerchiefs and baby slips, and I probably never will. They will lose their wonderful aged look.



I compare these to the two schools of painted furniture--you have people who want fresh paint, versus those who want it chippy.



This old pillow slip is pure linen with a deep lace edge and has tabs to tie it onto a pillow. Not only do I NOT need things in matching pairs, I PREFER to have a variety of whites all piled together!



This kind of laundry day can wait til forever. That's another beauty of it. It's not like running out of clean socks!



I tend to think of myself at times like B. Potter's Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle--

"Lucie opened the door: and what do you think there was . . .?--a nice clean kitchen with a flagged floor and wooden beams--just like any other farm kitchen. Only the ceiling was so low that Lucie's head nearly touched it; and the pots and pans were small, and so was everything there.
There was a nice hot singey smell; and at the table, with an iron in her hand stood a very stout short person staring anxiously at Lucie."



So thanks for letting me share one of the pure pleasures of my life.



Next time you see me, my hair will probably be sticking out all over like a hedge-hog!

Thanks for stopping by! Ciao! for now!

Jacqueline
I'm joining Smiling Sally for Blue Monday!