Tale of Two Tapes

Masking tape was her best friend.  It allowed her to fasten a message to nearly any object.  She loved things properly identified.  My mother-in-law, Evelyn, with the help of a black marking pen and masking tape, kept the world in order.

When cleaning and sorting are in the Things I get to do today,  history pops up in unexpected places.  Here in the bottom of a box jam jars not used for over a dozen years, I found Evelyn.  When I pulled one particular jar from the box to wash it, the stiff, adhesive-gone-gritty masking tape fell off on the counter.  Memories flooded back.  My name in her easily identifiable hand had been on one of the jars.  The bread-and-butter pickle label was still affixed to the container, filling in the details of the story.  She wanted to return what was mine.  Masking tape was the vehicle.

Ruth on the left.  Evelyn on the right.

But just last week during a serious cleaning of the chest freezer in the garage, Apple Sauce from 2003 showed up.  This was from my own mother, Ruth, a saver of all bits of edible produce on her property.  Waste not, want not must be inscribed in her at the cellular level.  Her favorite occupation, after weeding, is canning.  Freezing comes in third.  The masking tape on the recycled plastic dairy carton was fresh and gummy, belying its age.  The sauce was, however, ten years old.  We ate it for breakfast the next couple of days, remembering both mothers and their tales.

Our Daily Cloth

You know it's time to put it through the wash:  when only a glance at the middle where the dishes were set reveals last week's menu, when the daily smudges from the newspaper that we still read at breakfast each morning are dark enough that with a little focus the top story of the week comes into view, when a committee meeting is scheduled for tomorrow evening with just ordinary folks you don't care about impressing, but you don't want them to put their things on the floor because it looks cleaner.

Smooth like a garden bed

I love my table and its cloth.  I love it clean.  I love it smooth.  Probably not often enough the Things I get to do today say, "wash the table cloth." Which brings us to the "smooth" quality.  I've found a way to have absolutely no wrinkles with absolutely no ironing though the table cloth is 100% cotton.  This tip doesn't work as well with poly-type fabrics (which I'm not fond of anyway).

Got your pencil and paper ready?  And answer is: watch what your mother-in-law, Evelyn, does.  Don't have an Evelyn? Ok, ok, I'll give you a straight scoop:  After running it through the wash, toss it into the dryer with the rest of the load.  BUT take it out after 10-15 minutes, when it is still damp/dry. Spread it on the table (I have a table pad and a water-proof cloth to protect the wood surface) to dry, smoothing it with your hands and pulling the hemmed edges straight. That's it. It's all about having the right mother-in-law connection, really.