Winter's Tablecloth

Among the many signs of spring are the blooming daffodils, the start of baseball, robins singing the melody of “Easter Parade,” standing in line in the snow at Rita’s to get a free thimbleful of water ice, and putting our heads in the oven when it doesn’t automatically become fully spring when the stars say it should. In our house, spring really only begins with a time-honored ritual: The changing of the winter tablecloth on our dining room table.

At the vernal equinox, I ceremonially take down the tablecloth, which is silver and emblazoned with snowflakes. It has stood on our table for three months, as we ate meals that stuck to our ribs while the snows of winter swirled mercilessly outside. There are other signs in our house that spring is about to spring, such as removing the decorative snowflake hand towels from the bathroom, but the tablecloth is by far the most significant—and meaningful.

It’s a beautiful ceremony. I wish you could all see it. I fold the snowflake tablecloth with as much respect and pageantry as when they folded the American flag on the coffin at Reagan’s funeral. Usually I will sing a festive song like “Bringing in the Sheaves” while I do it.

No matter the weather outside, spring is over once I take down that tablecloth and switch back to placemats or a more season-appropriate tablecloth. Then the winter tablecloth will go back in the linen closet to wait patiently through spring’s breezes, summer’s thunderstorms and fall’s burning leaves—until it can live again.