6 hours of canning later

Sometimes, one cannot post because one is literally up to one’s elbows in the actual craft, and cannot come to the computer.  Such was Sunday, when I spent three hours peeling peaches and feeling the sticky juice drip down my arms. But I will leave that story for later, because I just don’t have the energy to tell it yet.

Meanwhile, let me tell you about antique crochet.  I grant you the possibility that you may not love these as much as I do, but I hope you take a look at the exquisite detail and skill, and maybe appreciate them a bit.  I love them a lot - after all, I am both historian and crocheter, so I’m pretty much guaranteed to love these kinds  of things. Truly, though, my love of antique lace crochet goes farther than that.

Three doilies. The one on the left is unusual in that it is made of undyed linen.  The pattern of the square one is very “pleasing.  The skill of the bottom one takes my breath away.

I’m not sure if my mom’s possessions guided my passions or my passions guided my love of my mom’s possessions, but my very favorite pieces of art that my mother had while I was growing up were (1) 2 pieces of framed antique filet crochet, (2) a medieval grave rubbing and (3) a picture of a German castle.  I ask you, is it coincidence that I have two degrees in medieval history?  Is it coincidence I am a crocheter?  I do not know.

Two potholders and a granny square. The square is so incredibly regular in its tension it looks like it could have been crocheted in rows except for the center. If you have ever done knitting, crochet or needlework you probably know how hard it is to make your tension so impeccably even with an unforgiving light-colored medium like thread.  The potholders are both detailed and double-layered.

I will admit that I had crocheted doilies on my furniture while growing up. And I loved them, and in fact am still a fan of doilies.  I will now be drawn and quartered by all the modernists around here, but I cannot help it.  Those doilies were probably the only “girly” thing that I liked when I was a wee lass.  I disliked pink. I was a tomboy.  I disliked barbies.  I favored toy cars and building blocks.  But I loved my doilies.  Go figure.

The two doilies above both were part of a swap. Isn’t that interesting? In fact, these short messages were why I bought the whole lot - the proprietor of the antique store said the crochet all came from one woman, which means these two pieces date them all, and that date is 1948.  It’s fascinating that these came from women in such small towns in the midwest and ended up in a tiny little town in Texas, and were saved for all these 60 years.  They are hard to read, but as far as I can tell, here’s what they say.

The first one has two notes in different handwriting which tell me that they were a swap.  The top bit says “Mrs. John Puck, Guttenberg, Iowa” while the second says “Rec’d about June 10 - 48.  Sending aprons ( -unreadable) Feb 12.”

The second says “Mrs. Andrew Gangl, Salem, No. Dak.“  (that’s North Dakota, if you didn’t recognize the abbreviation. I didn’t, my mom clued me in.).

I took a picture of the detail of this doily because I was fascinated by the array of techniques used.  The center star and the webbing is (if you look closely) needlepoint woven ribbon. Yes, someone wove ribbon with cotton thread.  Endlessly.  I cannot even imagine the time this took.  The butterflies and some of the edging are filet crochet.  Other aspects are regular crochet.

I am in awe of the skill it took to make this, and am personally offended that it only cost me $3.50 to purchase it, while there were modern paintings in the same store that cost over $1000 and took much less time and effort.  I cannot help it if people don’t recognize art and labor when they see it, but the very least I can do is bring it home and make a blog post about it.  I hope one day the needle arts get more of the recognition they deserve for creating such exquisite, delicate things.