Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone!
Since we're still talking about laundry, this sheet music cover seemed appropriate. Obviously all women of all nationalities have done the wash, but the Irish women had a song written for them!
Ok, the subject at hand: Ironing. Sigh.
Evidently, some of you are ironing aficionados. If you are, you may now move on to another blog for today. This post might make you sad. If you're still willing to read, please try not to swoon when you read what's below. For those of you, like me, who have not embraced the wonder that is (apparently) ironing, read on.
First the hall of shame stories:
- I have ironed only the front of a blouse because I knew that I wouldn't take my jacket off.
- I have ironed only the collar of my husband's shirts and encouraged him to wear sweaters over them.
- Several times in my life I've had MONTHS of ironing piled up. I would just pull from the pile on a need-to-wear basis.
- When my sister and her husband lived with us for 3 months when they first moved here (trying to find housing), I bargained with her to do my ironing for me. (Thanks, sis!)
- I've been known to mutter ominously when I ironed a wrinkle INto the fabric. It frightened my dog.
- I sorted the ironing pile, pulling out my husband's clothes. I hung all of my and my son's (wrinkled) clothes in the closet. I quietly closed the doors.
- I sorted my husband's clothes into dress shirts, casual shirts, and pants.
- I set myself to iron for 30 minutes each weekday until everything was done. I had my son read his history lessons to me. Multi-tasking!
- Upon reaching the end of that mountain, I vowed to iron his clothes WEEKLY. My ironing day is Friday.
Folks in the comments have thrown out words like "peaceful," "calm," and "zen-like" when describing their ironing experiences. I'm determined that I want to reach that same level. I have, at times, dabbled on that plain, but have not reached the point of that being my own description of completing the task. Here's how I'm working at making ironing a task that approaches (at least!) delight:
- I have a lavender linen spray that gives me an aromatherapy session when I iron. I doesn't linger, so my husband hasn't complained.
- I pray for my husband as I iron his clothes. I like that I'm blessing him TWO ways during the activity.
- I make sure that I admire my finished work. Sometimes I call my son in to admire with me. I feed him the proper lines of "Great work!" and "Look at how crisp those are!" He humors me.
- I have to admit that I LOVE to iron flat things. Flat, small things. Napkins and placemats and runners--satisfying. I've ironed large pieces of fabric and tablecloths which I find more annoying than satisfying as they keep sliding off the board. Sheets? We'll see.
- I got an over-the-door ironing board that stays on our closet door. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it. Hauling out the ironing board was part of the reason the ironing never got done before!
I've pleaded with the commenters who have arrived at Ironing Bliss to write posts. I want to experience that bliss, too. Is there something I'm missing, or is it just a state of mind?
Next time: Sewing Day
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