Folding Towels

This morning, as I folded and stacked beach towels in the cupboard, I thought of my mom.  I remember her sitting in the living room, folding towels fresh from the laundry. She was not a precise folder.  The corners seldom matched.  I think she just wanted to get the job done and get on to something more interesting like reading a book or walking her dog.  She tossed them in the drawer and got on with life.

Mark's mom was more of a corner-matcher.  When I first came to the lake I was amazed and slightly intimidated by the standing casket case that contained all the linens, very neatly folded and stacked.  Each shelf was labeled so you knew exactly where to put the hand towels and pillow cases.

The coffin case became the stuff of legends as the kids were growing up.  It's still with us, in the old garage.  Now we have lovely cabinets for all our towels and sheets.  Mark has once or twice mentioned the word 'label'.

I understand the logic behind it.  Different people tend to use a cabin and things don't always get put back in the same place.  I kind of like that little bit of 'travel' that happens.  It's like your sheets and towels have a little vacation from their drawer or shelf as well.  Mark doesn't always share my sense of whimsy in this department but we have reached a compromise.  His things definitely stay where he puts them.

In the meantime, he had the cabinet maker use the windows from the old cabin, complete with the oak pulls, for doors on the mud room cabinets and suggested putting the beach towels in one.  I guess that's enough whimsy for now.