When the countertops and cutting boards, the faucets and the sink are all wiped down with a good clean cloth, I’m quite content. Keeping a stack of sturdy, beautiful cloths around for that purpose makes me feel a little more calm. I once hand-stitched a linen cloth and four years later it is still in excellent condition. Linen is stronger when wet, so it is ideal for the task. I imagine it doesn’t get musty or stain as easily, but I might just take extra care to hang it to dry, because it’s beautiful. Now I make them for the tried & true series in the shop. Useful, perennial favourites.
Like rustic clothing, the difference between store-bought and handmade is often its strength. They’re certainly not cheaper than the imported cotton dishcloths I can easily buy, but then they last so long, and please me so much.
To care for these linen cloths, I just throw them in the wash as usual, cold or medium, with a drop of tea tree oil to kill any germs. You can throw them in a medium dryer too, though it’s best to take them out while still damp, lay them on a flat, waterproof surface like the top of the dryer, and block them. Block them?
Blocking is what you do to shape any knit, woven, crocheted piece, and is simple arranging it back into shape and allowing it to dry that way. You can get fancy with special pins and boards, if you were blocking pieces of a sweater before sewing it, so that it would fit perfectly together. But for the linen dish cloths, you’re just laying them flat while they’re wet or damp, and patting, pulling, shaping back to a square, then leaving them to dry. Shaping is ten-second task. No harm in skipping this part, either. It does please me to see them back in their fine shape.
Like the candlesticks, each one is unique, each one a variation in pattern. A little bit simple, a little bit ornate, and thoroughly handmade. I adore the texture and gloss of wet-spun linen, at once hardy plant fibre and fine silk, artless pastoral and opulence combined.
One bright day soon I’ll have the fine folks from Flax-to-Linen round to the lake to demonstrate the wonderful process of transforming flax to gold. Stay tuned. There’s a wonderful old bit of Canadiana on the subject, too.
The linen cloths make a nice accompaniment to the natural sponge, my trusty stiff brush, and a stack of colourful tea towels. Elegant tools make the work far easier, far more agreeable, I think.