So, I'd like to share a couple with you. The first made me sad. The lace I absolutely love. I think if I go dig out one of my grandma's bed sheets, it will have this same filigree lace pattern from the early 20th century.
In contrast, one of the "orphans" has some of the most exquisite embroidery I've seen.
I adopted a few other orphaned pillowcases too, but they're going to have to spend a good part of the week with "Aunt Oxy."
And here's the other much longed for treasure:
Consequently, I've been longing for my Grandpa's hand drill--which is somewhere in one of my many boxes in an outbuilding. Hmmmmm. How much time do you think would be wisely spent searching through boxes in an out building in 95+degree heat? I just couldn't face it. I decided I'd be better off just buying a new drill and then decided what I really wanted was an old drill. After all, I use People-Powered-Machines for sewing, so why not for drilling? The local hardware store owner told me he could order me a hand drill. I decided to look for an old one--partly because most of them were made with beautiful hardwood handles. I looked at every antique store I could think of and found this one at an antique store about two or three miles from home. I suspect it was overpriced, but it was still about 20% of the cost of a decent new plastic wonder.
Okay, now I can install that sliding metal drawer in one of my cabinets so that my lovely DeMarle cookware won't fly out at me every time I need a piece!