My Grandmother left me many of her linens, some that she had made as a child for her bridal chest. These are a treasured part of our family history for my daughters and myself. I remember cold rainy afternoons as a child at Grandmothers. There was no mistaking that it was ironing day as the fragrance of lavender linen water drifted through every room. I would nap lulled to slumber not by the drone of a television but by the constant click-click of the iron cord plugged into a "socket" in the over head ceiling light. There were no receptacles in old houses then. I can still see her at her wooden ironing board softly humming as she ironed.
I hope you all have a wonderful week but I must be off to work on the pictures. Maybe we'll have sunshine soon but in the mean time I just may do some ironing. It's quite peaceful when I drift back to those sweet days with Grand Mother.