I hear their little voices, calling from the spare room.
Some voices are clear and strong, the voices of the ones on the top of the pile. Some voices are muffled, barely audible—these are the voices of the ones buried deep down in the stack.
The vintage linens are calling me. And they have accusations to make.
They claim to have been forgotten. Neglected. Left to wrinkle.
Their beauty and craftsmanship is going unrecognized and unappreciated, they claim.
They say it’s all my fault.
I brought them here only to ignore them, to turn my focus to chocolates and weaving and blogs and things.
That’s what they’re saying, in their whiny voices. And, you know, they’re right!
I had cause to go into that spare room the other day, searching for napkins to meet a buyer’s request, and was . . . well, a little horrified, actually! I came face to face with gorgeous items I’d completely forgotten about! Many, many of them . . .
I have definitely been remiss. I have all kinds of excuses, of course—I’m busy with other things, it’s “candy season,” it’s too cold on the glassed-in porch to take the photos I need in order to make listings on Etsy.
But, as the linens told me, they deserve better. So, I’ve been making time for them lately and enjoying their company. When they’re not pouting, they are really quite delightful to be around!