Friday, October 23, 2009

Shelf Edging

My mother grew up in Holland. Her childhood was marked by the early loss of her father to tuberculosis, by World War II and the Nazi occupation, by being raised by her single, widowed mother. And yet, there was a certain level of "fancy" about her upbringing that stuck. Births, deaths, and marriages were always acknowledged with engraved cards (mom still maintains that a white house with black trim looks like a death announcement.) Dinner almost always included a soup course and dessert (I argued with my high school Home Ec teacher about proper placement of the dessert spoon.) Beds had spreads, furniture had doilies (hand crocheted) and open shelves had a liner and lace shelf edging.

There was an email newsletter in my in-box earlier this week that included a pattern for knitted lace edge treatments. Scree-eeeee-eeech! Full stop. Lace edging. I had forgotten about my mom's lace shelf edging. In a house full of never-done renovations, 5 children, more month than money, the occasional mouse, bat, critter... my mother crocheted, tatted or knit delicate edging for the bathroom linen shelves exposed by the never replaced closet door.

I looked a little online for patterns, but didn't find much. That's okay, really. I prefer closeable doors.

3 comments:

Zazzu said...

Maybe it's because it's 5:30 am and I need coffee (desperately), but what your mom says about white houses with black trim is a hoot! There's a house around the corner like that (with a red front door) and I could never put my finger on what looks "off" about it. It's striking, though.

I've only seen laced shelves in pictures, never in real life.

The Calico Cat said...

Closed doors hide a multitude of sins. (I really do need to pull EVERYTHING out of my linen closet & start it over...)

Anonymous said...

My Mom trimmed shelves also. I did when I had a walk in pantry, not so much any longer. I think it's charming. Alexis