My Compulsion for Cloth Napkins.

I think it's part romantic–my love affair with making cloth napkins–and part escape. The mindless but busy fingers following repetition with needle and thread.  The pulling and pushing, the tight little dashes making a strong line. All the parts becoming whole.

I think too, it is the daily indulgence at our dining table. Even snacks entertain a cloth napkin in our household. It seems a simple but extravagant luxury.

This newest set, I whipped up as a gift for a good friend who was in town for a visit this weekend. I folded them, the bear embroidery tucked away inside, and nestled them into our set dinner table awaiting the surprise. The bear is the main character of a sweet book that my friend is writing, it's Mitch, and he's a sailor bear. I love the translation of the hand-drawn line in embroidery.

Cloth napkins, I think it's their lovely usefulness also. And such a fine upgrade-of-a-replacement to waste. For several years now, our kitchen has been paper free. It's amazing how long a napkin holds up, how soft the cloth becomes with constant use and frequent laundering. I've made several sets, and I am slowly–compulsively–continuing to grow our collection. 

Our napkin drawer is teeming with ready and folded handmade cloths of a myriad patterns and colors. Each of them developing unique personalities and responsibilities. We have our everyday napkins, our lunch set, and snack, our school sets, and having guests around the table set. In our everyday dinner set, we also have our individual favorites. I love that. The comfort that the handmade invites.

As these were a gift, I was bittersweet in parting with them on Monday morning, when I put them into the post. I laundered them, pressed them smooth, and tied them all up lovely for their new home. The joy of Mitch the Bear's continued travels. 

And now, I am left dreaming up our next set. My fingers are already getting antsy.