Letting go

Real Simple magazine runs reader profiles as the last page these days -- they remind me very much of the old Dewar's Profile ads (do you remember those? classics in advertising). Anyway, I tore out a quotation from one -- reader Diane Israel said:

Show up fully.
Pay attention.
Tell the truth.
Let go of the outcome.

I saved it and posted it on my board because I so believe in and live by the first three -- what's hard for me is the letting go part. But I'm working on it. I had a conversation with my boss today, and he was speaking to me about someone else -- of her he said "sure, she compromises -- but she also keeps score; nobody realizes that all those years of compromise have in her mind a price -- she has a score to settle now, whereas everyone else thought those things were water under the bridge." I thought about how he COULD have been talking about me. And in mulling it over I think it's not the compromising I've got wrong but the keeping score part, and I see that relating to the "let go of the outcome" piece, too. Do you know how to let go? Any pointers?

Any ideas?

In my collection of handed-down vintage linens, I've got a bevy of these things. They are fussy little linen mats, 5" x 8" (12.7 x 20.3 cm), in sets of 4. There are different designs and I'll guess that they represent different manufacturers -- some have hand embroidery on them, like this one, and others have either machine-made decoration or none. Some have light staining, like this one, but most do not. These are waaay to small to be napkins, and clearly were meant to be used flat. I can't figure out if they were meant, perhaps, to go at the top of a place setting as a place to put the dessert spoons and forks (seems unlikely, given that there aren't napkins to match?) or if perhaps they went down on a card table for a ladies' game of bridge, as a spot to put down your bridge mix or something. They seem to say "ladies' lunch" to me, or ladies, in any case -- they are all very lightweight and the designs are very feminine. Any ideas what they were for would be appreciated, before I turn them all into something else.

Yesterday I drank my morning coffee (elixir of the gods) while watching the flickr slideshow from Tie One On's rick-rack apron challenge. If you haven't seen this yet, I can highly recommend sitting down (with a cuppa joe, ideally), and watching the slideshow. Aside from being impressed by the range of interpretations and utter creativity, the gallery made me think:

1. I love when people show themselves wearing their aprons -- their whole selves, so that you can see their faces and even little glimpses of their homes. It's not that I don't understand people's privacy concerns, but it's disconcerting nonetheless to see all of the headless torsos. Also, it's interesting to me (but maybe there is no connection?) that people are willing to show their children, faces and all -- but maybe the people taking pictures of their children are the same ones who are willing to show themselves...
2. Given that some aprons, too, are shown without a human in sight, it's hard to know for sure, but I wonder about the seeming lack of cultural diversity in this group -- surely there are more crafty blogging types out there without white skin? I just notice how homogeneous the community seems to be and I wonder about that.
3. In as much as the "studio" like shots are gorgeous, I do like the pictures where you see, again, the real person wearing the apron in her real home -- maybe a little messy, maybe lots of other stuff going on -- just a great little slice of life.

I considered making an apron for this theme but not doing so was the right decision (laugh at me, please, those of you who've been reading for any length of time and know how many projects I'm juggling at once as is). But then the next theme, pockets, has me seriously considering. Which takes me to more of yesterday's activities and the image, above.

I spent some time working on cleaning out a closet. Very slow, depressing work -- we just have too much stuff, and no amount of spiffy organizers or rearranging will solve it. We need to get rid of some critical mass of stuff before effective cleaning can be done. Anyway. I've inherited/accumulated a really large collection of old linens. I've been known both in my own family and by my husband's family as someone who appreciates/keeps/uses old linens, so those drawers full of stuff that no one uses but no one can bear to throw or give away all come to me, along with the things I've purchased over the years. Oh, I've got drawers in the house where I keep the linens I use regularly, and there are some in the upstairs linen closet, but this closet of yesterday (my bedroom "clothes" closet) features a large laundry basket heaped full of MORE. So much handmade lace, like the sample above, so many hand towels and napkins and things that I don't even know WHAT they are, but they carry some little bit of embroidery or lace or other handiwork of the women who have come before me. I'm trying to think realistically what to do with some of this stuff, other than leaving it heaped in a basket in a closet. So ONE of the things is a vintage tablecloth -- 50s, most likely -- really too stained to use, not with any handmade-ness to it, and I'm thinking about cutting it up for an apron featuring some kind of magnificent pocket. Again, even though it is not handmade, I'm a little hesitant to cut something up, but this could be just the ticket.

Speaking of cutting things up to make something else, one of the aprons in the rick-rack gallery was made partially from an old pair of jeans. It inspired me to pull the pair of jeans I put in the give-away pile yesterday (maybe this is not a good thing). Stuff made out of old jeans has so much potential to go wrong, but this apron was a lovely example of seeing it done right and made me think I was too hasty in giving up the old pair. Well, I'll give myself a deadline and if I don't do something with the jeans they'll go back to the give-away pile. I have this image in my head of a beach-worthy bucket tote, made from two legs of jeans cut and sewn together....