The Good Towels

The air dries out, and the sun is warm. There's breeze enough to remind us we're outside. It's one of those rare June days just right for dreaming -- and for hanging laundry.

No motors today, we decide. No overt petroleum consumption. Except to move the car from the garage to the stable for washing. We do that, and we dry the slick surfaces with old towels. Old works best: soft, absorbent, made in the USA.

These were our mother's towels. We remember them as "the good towels," stored in the back of the linen closet, hung only for company. The every-day towels were threadbare but efficient.

It became a source of amusement. Practical in all things, our mother lived by what she said was the "Dutch" (the local term for the Amish) way: Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.

So these "good towels," new in 1958, still serve their purpose. Mom would be proud. Except she would display them in the bathroom and not the stable.

copyright 2010 J. O'Brien, all rights reserved