And to that end, old-fashioned handkerchiefs, aka hankies,
may be making an appearance in my life. I’ve been thinking about them for a
while now, given my love of reading historical romances. Everyone has a hankie
in those stories, from the large, white squares of the gentlemen, to the
dainty, embroidered bits of linen of the ladies.
With spring around the corner, and the
advent of pollen, I predict an increased need for a moisture collector.
In my hunt through the sewing cupboard for
buttons for my recently finished knitting project (huzzah!) I came across a box
of handkerchiefs that had belonged to my mother-in-law. The box itself is a piece
of history – shallow, with a hinged lid and a quilted cover. Something you’d
leave on top of your dressing table so a fresh hankie would always be at hand.
Anyway, I pawed thru the collection of
hankies and became lost in the patterns of the printed cloth, the delicate lace
edging and fine embroidery. Some of the hankies would be suitable for only a
tear. Literally one tear, with no nasal involvement at all. Others would hold
up to a few good blows.