Landmark in the school holidays: the ironing pile hits three feet. Given that its about two metres wide, that’s going it some.
I’d love to say ironing was my only achillles heel. It isn’t, I’ve got lots of them. But it is a very, very significant one.
Three years ago, when I went back to work, my husband sat me down. He was sporting an extremely serious face. It was time, he informed me, to take his washing out of the heckhole that was our laundry cycle. From now on he would be , if you will, a state within a state, part of the whole yet independent. He would run a singular laundry cycle consisting of his things, and his things only.
And he was right. It’s a maelstrom of polyester cotton. It is a classic example of chaos. To subscribe to the washing pile, just because he loved, worshipped and revered me, would be professional suicide, an odd-sock greying Hades.
It works like this: everything that is dirty in the whole house collects in three places. Once a week, at least, I collect everything from these used-clothes stations, sort it, and stuff as much as I can in the larger-than-life washing machine.
So far so good. In the winter, it graces heaters, visitors or no visitors. In the Summer, it airs breezily on the washing line, giving the neighbours the mistaken impression that this is just another domesticated little household.
As soon as it is dry, is is welcomed into my lair: a wonderful, airy, light swedish designed room where I write. And occasionally iron. And where, regrettably, it all goes pear-shaped.
The Pile grows, I would swear, organically. And I do iron, honest. In the morning just before the children and I get dressed, generally.
Just sometimes – often before we go away- I have an ironathon. I set up my PC to watch my favourite comedy, buy about six bottles of fragrant ironing water (an invention for the foolish middle classes, I can never smell it later on clothes) and I iron and iron and iron. I love doing it: when there’s nothing else needs to be done.
And there’s the rub. There’s always something else that requires urgent attention. If I still lived life with a Filofax, with its rock-hard to-do list regime, I suspect ironing would still be one of those sad little items that is held over from day to day, never quite getting done, hovering balefully at the bottom, a silent reproach.
It doesn’t make it any easier that no-one else seems to have this problem, least of all my overworked sister who has three kids, one under three. They handle it. The problem is that right now I could be ironing. And what I am doing? Sitting here in front of this laptop writing a non essential blog.
It’s a question of priorities. Life is far too interesting to spend it ironing. No-one ever goes out looking less than pristine, so the system works. It’s unsightly, but it waits patiently until I have finished doing the exciting stuff, never coming up with nasty surprises.
The only problem is, it does have a tendency to glower from its corner. Everything has its price.
Kate Shrewsday 
Great Kate. Very entertaining.
I loved reading it.
The only thing is, I don’t know what you mean by “lower from its corner”?
Does it make a noise like a cow?
D
its not a height restriction!! Its another version of ‘glower’ with the same vowel sound in the middle….
Don’t clouds ‘lower’ on the horizon? (but with a different spelling?)
We had this debate back in July when I wrote it: I changed it to glower after Dad’s comment. Still don’t know, and my friend Jan was not on board to sub at the time..off to google…
Lovely blogg…and so true! Why waste time with mundane stuff and risk letting the exciting stuff pass us by? Grab life by the scruff of the neck and live it to the max. Think of that every time Vesuvius hits an all time high!
I seem to recall your ironing pile is under control, sister mine….
Loved reading about your Vesuvius, mine is more a Cumbria, bit of a mountain range. High-ish but runs the length of a junior bed which doesn’t have a child in, where would I put the ironing??
Thanks for stopping by ,Jo 🙂 I feel slightly less alone in my ironing habits now…….
I don’t drink anymore, but instead of six bottles of fragrant ironing water why don’t you get six bottles of vodka?You will merrily iron away or burn holes in the clothes or throw everything away and get all new wrinkle free stuff. In any case you won’t really care about clothing at all ! And then you will have many new gentlemen friends from the neighborhood. Tsk Tsk
Hello 🙂 Prompt response to this repost, thanks, my friend!
Sounds an excellent plan, Carl. I’m off to the Vodka shelves as we speak…have a good Sunday…
Right Kate.
My ironing board is set up in the kitchen now (I had to iron judo trousers for an important event this morning)
I’m going to stop fiddling and go down stairs and iron. And come back in about half an hour with a ‘total number of items ironed’ – it’s a challenge.
Are you up for it?
I might have a snooze first….
12.5 shirts in 30 mins… but I’d started so tried to finish. 16 in total before lunch…..
did you have a nice snooze?
I have woken up just in time to be mightily impressed. I have been googling miracle tumble dryers with a view to ridding myself once and for all from the tyranny of the iron. That’s a whole lot of shirts…*whistles*…
Two teenagers and a hubby who needs shirts for work… that’s 15 straight away! But I hang them straight onto hangers to dry, whether inside or out and then they need ‘minimal’ iron.
Small are sorted – four baskets, one for each family member and a shout to come and collect. Then I don’t even have to sort them myself!
My method is to be organised with the drying and them the ironing doesn’t take so long. It’s worth investing in a few gadgets.
Ha! You have described my ironing history to a “T”. It is, even now, so – and there are only the two of us left here at home. At some point, like those points in married history, Tom, too, decided to do his own, which was fine by me. He likes everything dried on hot so the pants on his slender 6’4″ frame don’t sag. Mine, however, well, I sag and need a lesser drying time. Besides, it is hard to explain how someone at 5’3″ has pants that are too short, now, isn’t it?
😀 It bears considerable thought, Penny. Thank heavens for husbands who withdraw voluntarily from the whole cycle..
How exciting to see your name in my subscription updates’ list again – yay! I feel exactly the same way as you do about ironing – if I organise myself and have something fun to watch or listen to, I can go ahead and iron like a demon. But getting organised and deciding that ironing has to be done … now that’s the biggest challenge.
Sunshine xx
A fellow ironing philosophy 🙂 How lovely!
Yup, just reposting though, Sunshine. May slip the odd original in too, there are too many amazing facts flying about these days: did you read about British Rail and their oil lamps??? Its in the Times today!!
I send up prayers of unending gratitude for our precious domestic worker – one of the BIG blessings of life in SA. Her few weeks’ leave over Xmas nearly did me in on the ironing front, but we made do with wearing ONLY what doens’t need it. As you say, SO much more exciting stuff to do!
Sounds a godsend, Naomi, I think I want one! Life is too short but must be very careful not to look rumpled….welcome back from your wonderful trip. The photos are stunning 🙂
Wonderful post.
These days, I am ALWAYS caught up with the ironing because . . . I donated the iron, the ironing board, and any clothes that whimpered at their departure.
Now we wear Wash and Wear only.
With an occasional wrinkle tossed into the mix.
Thanks for posting, Kate. I’ve missed your daily wit and wisdom. 🙂
Repost only, Nancy, although those elves are not as good at rehab as I had hoped and an original may slip in unannounced. This described my ironing pile last July and I measured it today: it has grown slightly.
I am in negotiation for one of those super tumble dryers and a large supply of hangers. I plan never to have to iron again, in the near future 😀
Good for you. Let me know if you need any assistance in your negotiations.
Things prone to wrinkling here get pulled out of the dryer damp, smoothed out on hangers, and hung to finish drying.
Reposts are good ~ like fishing out something to wear from the bottom of Mount Vesuvius, pressing out the creases, and sharing it anew.
Ha! You metaphorical blogger you…..
i’m not into ironing. my mother in law is obsessed with it. so we wear very smooth clothes when she visits twice a year and the rest of the time we are crinkly…
Long live crinkly !! Hope life in this ethereal in-between time is suiting you and the little one in waiting, Meli. Your posts have a magic about them which I remember from the time it was happening to me. It is no wonder that women were thought enchantresses in times past: the mysteries are still there, and as beautiful and baffling as ever. Thinking of you x
I nearly missed this.. must subscribe! Before I knew all I needed to do was check every day…..
Yes, sorry about that… seemed very un-English to go trumpeting the fact that it was there…will be reposting every day though, Paula Calhoun gave me the idea – just set a timer and it slow-releases all those old posts I so regretted getting buried. Bit like hanging baskets.
Oh Kate! Your vesuvius and mine – just another thing that we share. I despise setting up the ironing board. Once it’s up, I can actually get in a groove. In fact, at one point in life, I actually scheduled “ironing”. It was to be accomplished on Friday nights while my children watched a movie. That was years ago and it’s been that long since I’ve actually ironed anything. I abhor it.
LOL hurrah, another Vesuvius on another continent! I feel a sisterhood coming on. Friday night ironing, that’s a good idea….wonder if it would work for me….
My mother had a saying: “The iron doesn’t fit my hand.” She was kind enough to think it didn’t fit mine either, and as long as she could afford to, she hired someone else to do it. The result is that anything I iron now looks worse than if I’d left it alone.
I’m glad you’re reposting. The days without my Shrewsday fix have not been easy.
Hiring is looking an increasingly attractive option. I will sell the family silver immediately 😀
Thanks Kathy…it gives me a chance to slip in the odd original when they kids are otherwise occupied.
aha! a soul sister. I’m only 1 clothing wearer in the household. The other 2 make do with well licked fur. Yet my ironing pile reaches gigantic proportions and never seems to diminish, despite the fact the big sheets go to the laundry.
Antiheroines of the world unite!!
Thrilled to see a post from you.
Ironing is my pet hate 😦
*Great big hug*
I’m reposting from the moment the posts started to get a shape 🙂
Who invented ironing anyway? If this was a January post I’d have that taped. Curses.
When we moved to our current home my iron went missing for several weeks. Nobody commented or complained about the state of their clothes. I now use it only very occasionally to make the napkins look smart when we have visitors etc. It is very liberating.
Rosemary, thanks for stopping by with that most interesting of strategies. I am now looking furiously for somewhere to lose the iron 😀