»
Main Forums
»
Passions in Prose
»
Ironing
| Passions in Prose |
|
Ironing |
|
|
cwilk55 Junior Member
since 2006-06-13
Posts 17OR |
IRONING Early on in my life, mother dumped the never ending chore of ironing on the first available pair of hands mature enough to handle the pressing iron. Thank the gods that I was born some time after electricity and some clever fella had already invented the electric iron! However, it was definitely before permanent press! Everything had to be ironed. Well, pretty much anyway. Mother didn't require the bed sheets ironed, and not underpants, although the pillow cases were always starched and pressed. In some families they did “those other items” and it seems that those that did looked a bit askance at those that didn’t with that knowing look that let you know you were from slovenly folk and you and their children shouldn’t be allowed to play together. As it turns out there really was quite an art to the ironing of the family clothing. After the washing and the drying on the clothes line in the back yard, clothes that were to receive the final blessing of pressing were dumped into the large wicker basket. The tools of the trade were simple. An old Pepsi Cola soda bottle, aluminum and corked sprinkler cap, some plastic bags, good heavy electric iron, and the ironing board. The Sprinkling Bottle prepared, I’d set to the task, standing or sitting at the kitchen table sprinkling just the right amount to dampen but not soak. Folding and rolling each item into a nice, tidy roll and quickly placing it into a plastic bag so it wouldn’t dry out while the rest of the sprinkling was finished. Mind you, the folding and rolling was just as important as the rest of the task. It had to be neatly done and tightly rolled, else the material would dry out to soon, and if anyone should see your newly sprinkled laundry it was at least orderly looking. I loved the sprinkling. The water droplets landing on freshly dried cottons created a special aroma that, I’m sorry to say, Bounce or Downy have never captured, no matter what their ad says! You learned just how much was enough to sprinkle so that the spots would spread just so, melding into each other covering ever so lightly the whole garment. If you got carried away and sprinkled too much then you just had a wet garment that had to be dried out on the line and sprinkled again! With all the clothing sprinkled, the iron heated I’d start with the first bag of sprinkled items. By then the sprinkling had done its magic, dampening the entire item just right. “Shirts and blouses are always done the same way”, mother said. Iron the back first, and then the fronts, then the sleeves, then the sleeve cuffs, and the caller last. When they are done hang them nicely on a hanger on the back of the kitchen door. Skirts and gathered sleeves required special attention to the detail. Mother said “lazy and sloppy women left wrinkles in the gathers”. God forbid that we would ever be considered lazy, even I the slightest. (Same went for taking a kitchen knife and going ‘round the edges of the kitchen sink on the counters and edges and corners of the kitchen counters. “You know that people that don’t do that regularly were just plain filthy”, she’d say). I hated ironing pleated skirts, but I loved how sharp they looked when I wore them to school! There was no question that even though were poorer than most everyone, mother saw to it that the clothing she made for each of us kids looked like it was from the best of stores and my pleats would be sharper than sharp so that no one could fault her in the least. The boy’s jeans had to have sharp leg creases front and back too. Whites had to be white or they were thrown back in. No dinginess allowed! There is something about pressing pure white pillow slips. It brings on a gentle and loving state of being and I would find my self in a profound reverie filled with the sent of crisp, warm linen that I long for now in my world that too busy for the likes of sprinkling and pressing of my pillow slips. At the end of the day when all the chores were done, the gift of laying my face on a clean and pressed pillow slip, smelling of outdoors and sunshine made everything….okay. Today, at the end of the day, knowing that I’ve taken the time to smooth and press the little wrinkles and folds of life, sprinkling as I go with a bit of love and kindness, making the very best of what I have, I did learn the lesson that the ironing chore of my youth offered. Thanks’ mom! |
||
| © Copyright 2006 Candace M. Wilkins - All Rights Reserved | |||
Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Candy, It entertained me that I iron shirts in the reverse order you were trained. I liked the application of the lessons learned on life. Wish I remembered you in those pleated skirts, perhaps I'll check my annual again. Lovely write. I'm liking this.  If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, |
||
|
1slick_lady Member Ascendant
since 2000-12-22
Posts 6088standing on a shadow's lace |
loved this so reminded me of my childhood i am enjoying your writes |
||
|
mostlikelytolie New Member
since 2006-09-20
Posts 5 |
This is great. I remember despising pleated skirts, but I suppose I just never had a thing for detail. I love that you remember how much you enjoyed the sprinkling of water onto the clothing, I think I've let the simple things like that get away from me. ( Although I do love how Windex rolls down a mirror when you spray directly onto it. =D) Well done. |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
