Ironing or Not

Someone mentioned they had a pile of ironing to get through and felt quite daunted by it, which reminded me of that day, years ago when a friend asked me for coffee.

She had a large family like me .

I told her I was sorry but I had a huge mountain of ironing to get through. Maybe another day.

When she told me she didn’t ever have a “pile” of ironing I was a bit shocked to say the least and asked her how come. She and all her family always looked well presented so I couldn’t quite understand.

What she told me next revolutionised my life.

“I wash the clothes, dry the clothes, fold the clothes and hang them up or put them in drawers. And if anything needs ironing I might do it before I put it on” 

Wow, I thought, that actually might work

And thirty years later it’s still working.

Thank you Sonia.

The following poem is sort of a reminder of before.

The Ironing

And the whole pile is slipping,

it'll end up on the floor

it'll get all dirty 

and I'll have to do more,

washing.

My husbands shirts

ten or twelve

my four son's school uniform

trousers - cotton

the girls skirts - pleated.

It's the first thing I see

when I enter the room,

this mighty monster

prophet of doom

looking at me,

goading me

daring me

I'm not going anywhere

until you make

time to get round to me

I'll keep you awake

But today I've decided

I'll not do it anymore

for all I care,

It can fall on the floor

Ah no, that's no good

Instead,

let's fold it neatly

 put it away

get rid of the bully 

yes, that's the way.

Right, clear the table

and away we go,

a pile for each person

they'll never know

And before I know it 

the jobs all done.

Now, time for a cuppa

and a currant bun