My Easter Gift...

I love to go to flea markets with my mom. It's fun to rummage through and find treasures. This weekend she treated me to this lovely "new" table cloth. It's a beautiful vintage linen that fits my table perfectly, (not an easy feat being a very large square). It was my Easter treat and I couldn't have picked out anything better.

I love vintage linen. And I love old worn books of poetry. I can't get enough. If I come across one I have to have it. I love the way they feel in your hands. I love the soft stiffness of old linen. I love the fragility of old paper turned many times. I especially love finding an old book that has scribbled notes in the margins. Because I love the unknown history in it. I like to make up stories about who used these napkins, whose table they graced. I like to think that someone sat quietly beside a warm fire reading these poems by Frost. I get so into making up the history of these worn treasures that I have actually made up dialouge by the end of the story. Usually a simple end of the day converstion had over a delicious meal of beef stew and fresh from the oven bread. Am I a little bit crazy for having someone else's conversations in my head? Maybe, but it sure is fun.

I like to be linked to the past. I don't have roots of my own since we didn't live anywhere long enough to put them down. So I find roots in the history of the things we use. Some of it is family treasures carrying stories I know well. With other things I make up my own stories. It had some history. I like to think that my invented history is a little more romantic. Invented or real, history makes using these things much more meaningful.