Amazing Lace

Yesterday was one of those days that I threw down the brushes like Mole in the middle of ladders and dusters in Wind In The Willows when he says "Oh blow!", and heads out the door leaving his spring cleaning behind. Listening to the call of the wild, Mole doesn't come back until the next winter. I came back at the end of the afternoon. But not before answering my own wild call to turn over a few bins at the local flea market.

That can be a very good instinct at times. And yesterday was lace day!

Someone was kind enough to leave a whole pile, all ancient and fresh and pressed and ready for my basket!

We'll get to the luscious details, but I first have to show the vintage sewing machine drawers I found! Three in a row. Freshly painted in cream. Seven bucks each. Kill. me. now. I have already gone straight to heaven.

I have to show the knives too, because I'm using them for scale in the photos. I love mix and match silver, and these have a wonderful heft and design in a set of eight.

Here they are next to a silky damask cloth with a deep lace hem. The lace is all intact, and there are some yellowed stains on the fabric. Maybe that's why the tablecloth was only eight bucks.

And old hymnal from 1941 with beautiful brown pages turned up too.

A beautiful pristine linen topper with lace corners was in the pile, and makes my heart go pitter pat. Don't you love the creamy colors?

Finally there's this lace trimmed sheet. It could be turned into a dozen gorgeous things, and I have a few basket liners I want to make.

This last little snippet of antique machined lace is part of a ragged runner that will live on as something else after it is finished adorning a page from a hymn.

"The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing. It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said "Bother!" and "O blow!" and also "Hang spring-cleaning!" and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat."

Happy hunting!

Jacqueline

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