Want to see the fabric I bought Friday? Great! Want to hear about my foray into plumbing Sunday morning? Well, it doesn't matter what you say, because I can't hear you, and I'm going to tell you anyway.
But I'll show you some of the fabric first. There was quite a range, including this toweling, which made me think about how at one point in time women could just go to the yard-goods store and buy this kind of thing by the yard and sew up some kitchen towels. Men could do this, too, one supposes, but one kind of doubts that they did.
So as not to stack up too many stories, let's talk about plumbing. First of all, I have some sad news to relate. My husband has injured his shoulder. Or his elbow. We're not quite sure. One of the reasons we're not quite sure is that his arm hurts so badly he couldn't get the MRI he was supposed to get Friday because it proved too painful. Because my husband is a good sport - in fact, he is the walking definition of Good Sport - he's doing as much as he can without using any part of his right arm or jarring anything attached to it. That doesn't leave a lot. It most certainly excludes crawling under the bathroom sink to reattach the mechanism that opens and closes the drain stopper. Which came off in my hand Sunday morning.
He assured me it was an easy fix, and he was correct. It would be an easy fix if one was an experienced plumber or was only 18 inches tall but possessed of superhuman strength so as to be able to remove a rusted bolt on a part tucked behind a variety of pipes and hoses. I know you don't know everything about me, but I am not 1) an experienced plumber 2) 18 inches tall or 3) superhumanly strong.
However, I am tenacious, and after 45 minutes, a can of WD-40, a variety of wrenches, an unseemly amount of cursing and the (highly recommended) This Old House web site, the faucet was repaired. I came downstairs, triumphant and feeling like I'd earned a beer. However, it was only 10:30 a.m., so I decided to wait 15 minutes or so.
And everything to do with the tag. There was a tag on every piece. New old stock. There's nothing better. I had never heard of the Onondaga Silk Co., but Onondaga is the name of the county where I live, named after the Iroquois nation native to this area. I have some research to do, but I did find out that in the 1940s, the Onondaga Silk Co. hired well-known artists to design some of their fabrics, and there are examples of their work in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
And yet, all this silk and barkcloth and kitchen novelty aside, this cotton print is probably my favorite. It's the kind of cotton print that could be made into a sensible housedress. The kind of housedress you'd wear to go out to collect the eggs in the morning, or to wash up the breakfast dishes at your farmhouse sink, or, perhaps, to crawl underneath the bathroom sink and repair the drain stopper assembly. And that's my kind of fabric.