Tuesday, October 09, 2012
Finding My Way Back.. Ironing
I was allowed the pleasure of staying home again for a few more years, we bought our house and moved, and then the next spring the dot-com company The Boy™ was working for went under. He was out of work for a year, and in that time, I went back to work again. This time, I brought it out from a different closet, and set it up in the guest room, that is now my craft room. I rationed, that if I was going to use it more, it was easier to just keep it set up somewhere, instead of hauling it out each time it needed to be used. When we had guests, or during the partial year or so that my SIL came to live with us , it would go back in the closet.
The year that I converted the guest room into my craft room, it came upstairs to live in our bedroom. It makes more sense if you think about it. Our clothes live in our bedroom, and it's kind of silly to lug them downstairs, iron them, and lug them back up. I set it up next to The Boy's™ dresser, in front of a window that overlooks the backyard. Some people find it to be a tedious chore, but I find ironing to be calming. It's kind of like therapy, almost. When I am feeling particularly frustrated, or upset about anything really, I take my music upstairs, plug in the iron, and get to work. The simple task of standing there, removing wrinkles from clothing, never fails to make me feel better by the time I am finished. Because I focus on what I am doing, I don't often look out the window, but I do take time between items to enjoy the view. The light, especially late in the day, just soothes my soul that much more. Everyone knows that if I'm really upset and I retreat to my room on a day after we've done laundry, it's because I'm ironing and they better not bother me. My daughter has taken to calling it "therapeutic ironing", and I think it's a perfectly fitting term.