Ironing Day

I was thrilled, at the age of ten, when my mother taught me how to iron.  The summer after 4th grade we specialized in pillowcases and handkerchiefs.  Not only did I enjoy smoothing out the wrinkles, but I loved being able to handle the dangerous object.  One false move and I might burn the house down!  I'd go to the cool basement and enjoy a summer afternoon alone drinking strawberry pop and ironing.  This odd joy has never left me.

Before contacting me with all of your pressing needs, I should explain a few things:

• I don't iron men's clothing.
• I'm not actually very good at ironing, so complicated things like shirts or pants are risky.
• My favorite thing to iron is a small tablecloth.  Preferably a beautiful vintage one.

I always wait for The Perfect Ironing Moment.  The house will be mine alone.  I will be well-rested and recently fed.  I used to put on special ironing music (the Brahms Piano Quintet in F Minor), but these days I prefer the simple sound of the spray bottle.

A couple of major shifts in my ironing habits have occurred this year.  The old iron, which I've used for 20 years, died.  I had to put it in the trash!  The new one is sea blue and harmonizes with the New and Improved Ironing Location.

The Reiki Healing Space now doubles as The Center for Contemplative Ironing.  Wrinkles smooth out more peacefully than ever.  Fabrics are soaked in healing energy.  The practitioner works to the soothing sound of bird call and squirt bottle.