Verge collections raise a bit of a spike in collection rates. In the street where my Mum lives three people have died in a row of five houses, in the last six months. It wasn't looking good for my Dad but moving was not an option. When we were piling the shed junk on the verge Jim's family three doors down were doing same and I picked up this gorgeous tablecloth.
I just love those fine black lines against the grey and yellow, so fifties. But I also think about jim sitting on his front verandah, and the not-far-off-condemned condition of his house with the outside loo and limited power supply.
These linen luncheon napkins were an op shop find, 50c each. There are six, but one is much more faded than the rest. Why? Did someone who lived alone use the same one every day for solo civilised lunches?
From the same expedition, this 'bolster case' (now that would have been tres exotic in the sixties) was still in its packet. That's a long time to keep something in mint condition. How many linen cupboard sorting sessions saw it put back for another time?
Back to the verge, this sheeting fabric was rescued by a friend who knows I like this stuff.
And finally a lovely fabric piece bought in a second hand shop. I tend to think less about provenance for things acquired via the traditional retail channel. I wonder why that is?