Monday, August 25, 2014

The smell of Grandma's house

I was recently gifted two vintage tablecloths that belonged to my Grandmother.  She has been with her maker for nearly 15 years and I believe she is my guardian angel now.

My family currently uses her rock maple circular table.  We can't seem to get rid of it.  It doesn't fit our kitchen space well and it's not incredibly beautiful.  We got rid of the hutch that went with it two moves ago, but the table still remains, along with her memory.

During our visit to PA, my Aunt went down to her basement and pulled out Grandma's vintage fringed tablecloths. She never used them due to her table's size- lucky me!

Shortly after returning home, I pulled those vintage beauties out and had planned to wash them, but the smell stopped me.  I felt like the food critic in the Disney movie Ratatouille as I was transported back in time.  My heart started to ache and tears welled in my eyes, happy tears, wishing I could once again talk to my dear Old Nanny.

Those tablecloths remain unwashed in my cabinet.  I don't want to lose that smell of moth balls, old wood, and something sweet.  For it's the smell of my Grandma's house, if only all smells could be so endearing.

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