When I was a little girl every Sunday or maybe it just seemed like it,My parents and I would go to church with my Granny at the Cathedral catholic church and then we would all meet up at my Granny's house for Sunday lunch.
My cousins and I would run in and out of my Granny's tiny little house and do as much damage as possible to our " good clothes ". My Granny would serve up hams, baked chicken, and of course her famous mouth watering Roast. My Aunts would help with the side dishes and my mother always did the dishes and set the table. The men would sit around and discuss city politics and cars. My uncle would complain about his crew at work and my Dad would sit and listen to my mother's family loudly bond in their own strange way that some families do.
When the meal was ready my Granny would come into the dining room a pull her pristine white linen tablecloth out of her beautiful buffet and spread the tablecloth on her table. She always gave the table a few swipes as to smooth any wrinkles out.
I would watch as the look on my Granny's face changed. She seemed to be pleased with herself as if everything was perfect after the tablecloth went on. Maybe she was thinking of times gone by when her children were young or when my Grandfather was still alive. Or maybe she was just pleased that she owned a fine linen tablecloth.
I lost my Granny several years ago.
She died while I was involved in a series of bad decisions about my life. I miss her every day and the wisdom she possessed so effortlessly. I can honestly say that I did not appreciate that fine linen tablecloth that I would wipe my grimy little hands on.
Today I am thinking of that tablecloth and pondering the life of John May.
His involvement with the Linen process seemed to be so unmistakably significant.
I believe that I have pinpointed the area of Drumgath and possibly Rathfriland in county down Ireland as the area that he grew Flax.
Irish linen in my opinion makes the most beautiful tablecloths. The process of making linen before 1830 was labor intensive. Many times the process of growing the Flax seed to make linen was a family affair because it took everyone to process the Flax.
Men usually planted the seed while the women, girls and older women picked weeds and helped with the harvest. Harvesting was a very delicate process because it's important to retain as much of the stem as possible. The stems were bundled up and the women would carry them to fields to spread out and dry in the sun. After the stems were dried the seeds were removed for future harvests or fed to the cattle or made into linseed oil. The next step was called Retting which was mens work as it was not very pleasant. The stems were placed in a pond or dammed are of a waterway. The decomposing smell of the plants was a smell that was very distinguishable in the rural areas. This process helped to separate the valuable fibres from the core of the stem. In 10 days the heavy soaked stems were removed from the pond.
The next step in the process is called Scutching & Hackling where the stems are laid out in the field to dry. After they are dried the men would beat the stems with a wooden mallet or blade to sperate and clean the flax fires, the end result was a tangled bunch of fibres. Then the hackling began with a tool that would basiclly comb the fibres and making them soft and ready for spinning.
Spinning was the next step was always done by the women. This is where the term "Spinster" came from. The spinning was done on a low Irish wheel which was kept in motion by a foot treadele and produced bobbins of yarn and then taken and boiled in soapy water and then dried.
The yarn was Transferred to a loom to be woven into a cloth that was a brownish color. The weaving process for the cloth was done by men.
The tradional method of bleaching was to boil the cloth in a solution of water and ashes, seaweed, or fermented bran. The cloth was risnsed and spread over grass to dry in the sun. After drying it was steeped in buttermilk, rinsed and the process repeated several times.
The last step is Beetling which involves pounding the cloth with a mallet to close up the weave. This last step in the process is what gives Irish linen its dense sheen.
I think of my Granny's beautiful smile and contagious laughter and all the great meals and holidays spent at her little house. When I think of all the spills on that beautiful linen tablecloth yet she brought it out meal after meal. Maybe she thought we were worth it.
Now that I know how hard John May and his family worked in the linen process I have even more respect for him. I am facinated by his drive and I hope to channel some of that for the completion of this book.
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