Jaci Dawn

That’s a town in Idaho, not a patron saint. (Well, he was a saint, but I refer to the small town where my father grew up and his family had deep roots in.)

I am slowly (and I mean S-L-O-W-L-Y) sorting through the boxes of things I brought home from my most recent trip to Nevada. I have to decide what boxes to sort through later and what boxes to sort through now. The box labeled “St Anthony Linens and Museum” is a “later” box. But here’s a sneak peek at the contents:

One cotton night dress.

A satin vest.

My friend, Mary, will have to help me with this one as well as several short blouses in the box.

A baby girl’s dress, possibly belonging to my Aunt Mary, who died very young (Dad’s older sister).

A child’s faux fur coat. Pretty sure this was my father’s and if I looked hard enough, I could find photos of him in it.

A woman’s over-cloak.

Close up.

Detail of the embroidery.

Moth or wear damage. 😦

Embroidery work on the back.

An apron.

I will guess these were my father’s baby clothes. Crocheted.

There are three of the nightgowns. Toddler-sized. The bonnet would fit a young girl’s head.

Oh – and my mother’s painting apron.

Hey, it’s vintage 1960’s.