Photo courtesy Flickr
I am indebted to a North Dakota musician for his rejoinder to my comment about some hand spun and woven linen towels that were in my great-grandmother’s trousseau.
Last week was spent mainly in cars and public hallways. This morning I heaved my creaking bones into action, looked at my feet on the way downstairs, and realized what an elegant and sophisticated design is the toe.
Electing to live the pedestrian life was the first shot in a slow revolution at home. On one of my frequent moves during Viet Nam, I looked over the inventory and began to ask myself whether I’d still like it if I had to carry it on my back for three hundred miles. The question is devastatingly effective, even when applied to large pieces of furniture.
Several years ago, seeking space and time to do other things, I consolidated the kitchen and pantry, keeping the best cutlery, dishes, and pots and sharing the rest with family. The New Year’s visit with my son and his friends meant automatically festive tables. It was either the best or paper plates. What makes the best the best, usually, it that it is durable and does what it’s supposed to better than any other material. If it’s hidden away most of the year, one never learns that.