Many years ago, after my grandmother Hamlin died, I received, as my only tangible legacy from her, the crocheted doily she left unfinished. It was done in one of the many variations of the pineapple pattern, which she probably knew by heart, she’d used it so often. The piece, along with her steel crochet hook in size 13, a very small size, was tucked into a ball of No. 30 crochet cotton. The directions for the doily were missing. Since I did not want to add my much less accomplished work to my grandmother’s beautiful stitches, I finished the round she had been working on and let it go at that. Eventually, I appliqued the doily to a dark blue square of fabric and incorporated it into a quilt made of squares appliqued with other doilies I made.

Since then, many other hand-crocheted items have found their way to me. Some were orphaned, tattered and looking as if they had been in food fights or had taken a dip in a punch bowl. Some were in need of major surgery. Some had to be put out of their misery.

Much of the damage to these bedraggled pieces of crocheted lace occurred in the bars of chain stitches that linked groups of double or treble crochet stitches. Using sewing thread to match the piece, white or ecru, I carefully mended the breaks with a few small stitches. In some instances I was able to tie in a strand of crochet cotton and re-crochet the broken place. That was not usually an ideal fix, because inevitability the new crochet cotton did not match the old piece. However, it prevented further damage.

After I mended the piece, I filled a wastebasket with tepid water, poured in a cup of Ivory Flakes, swished it around to make it sudsy and immersed the crocheted item. I let the item – tablecloth, bedspread, doily or bureau scarf – soak for several days, sometimes more. After that, most stains were either entirely gone or sufficiently weakened to offend me much less.

After the long soak, and in order to lessen the chance of further damage to the piece, especially if it were a large one, I dumped it into the bathtub and let it drain. Then I lifted it, without wringing or twisting it, in one big soggy lump, taking care not to let it sag or hang, dumped it back into the wastebasket and lugged it out into the backyard. There, I spread the piece on an old white sheet laid on the lawn. I let it dry in the sun. The last step was to steam iron the piece very carefully.

Crocheted pieces with really ugly war wounds received different treatment. If repair was impossible, or if the item was too far gone to be of any earthly use except as a sentimental keepsake, I basted the damaged areas between two layers of bridal veiling to stabilize it and cut down on the possibility of adding damage.

I cut up pieces that were too ratty to mend and reincarnated them as doll clothes, window valences, small pillows, or elements of applique projects. I even used one old tablecloth as a doorway curtain – I always seem to live in old houses in which the closets have no doors.

Generally speaking, if you have old crocheted pieces and don’t know whether they will hold up under washing or you don’t have the skills to mend them, don’t do anything except take them out to admire from time to time. Sometimes it’s better to leave well enough alone better than try to “improve” it.

Elizabeth Kurella’s book, “Anyone Can Mend Lace and Linens,” is a good resource.

Ardeana Hamlin welcomes suggestions. Call 990-8153, or e-mail ahamlin@bangordailynews.net.