Monday, May 4, 2009
My very lovely Granny is in the middle of sifting through her worldly possessions, preparing for a move and some significant downsizing. Although she’d probably retort that four foot nine (145cm) is quite downsized enough, thank you very much. Last week it was the turn of the linen closet and I am truly the lucky one. Initially inherited by Granny from my Great Auntie Em, a bounty of the most magnificent embroidery and lacework has found its way into my unworthy hands. Many pieces are gobsmackingly beautiful and I am ever the sucker for a piece of crisp white linen (conceals stuck-to-the-table breakfast in the bat of an eye).
Alas, I am no Martha. Not the Stewart (am without criminal record), or the Gardener (local Queen of Stain Removal). I have in my care, pieces of irreplaceable family history, crafted by a pint-sized, fiery, hair-curler-ed great aunt with an impish grin. I am bothered by the yellowing fabric and signs of age but haven’t a clue whether the responsible thing, is to come over all Lady Macbeth and out the damned spots, particularly on the more fragile pieces. Needless to say, any tried and tested formulas or pearls of wisdom would be heartily appreciated. I have the sense Auntie Em is getting fidgety, eyeballing me from up high.