Posted in Blessings of Habit, Homemaking, Inspiring, Womanhood

Can I Teach You to Love Ironing?

learn to love ironing

Maybe I can; I surely hope I can . . . .

A lot depends upon where your heart is.

Ironing is an art.

I mean, we take the raw material and turn it into a sort of sculpture, don’t we? And it is most beautiful when the shirt is made right, in the first place, so the ironing chore is a joy for the one who irons: The plaids fall naturally into the pleats, the seams fold in the right direction, and the button placket is flat and cooperative.

In that way, ironing is like two artists who’ve worked together to send someone out into the world looking finely sculpted.

I’ll tell you, there is something about a man with a fresh haircut, who has groomed his face, and possesses the wealth of freshly ironed shirts to choose from in his closet, that makes him stand out, not only to his employer, but also to me.

I love giving that to my man. And that is the basis of my love for ironing.

The entire foundation for this love lies in the finished product.

  • I love looking at the shirts all lined up in the closet, ready to indulge in.
  • I love slipping into a smooth and lovely fresh-ironed shirt.
  • I love the way I look in the clothing that must be ironed.
  • I love feeling rich, as I do wearing an ironed shirt.
  • I love that my husband goes to work looking totally sharp every day.
  • I love knowing how to iron, and knowing not everyone does know how.

Ironing is probably very much an elitist, self-gratifying thing with me.

After all, I also love when building a tall lasagna that tastes magnificent because we grew the tomatoes, the onions, and even the eggs for making the pasta.

It’s a sort of self-satisfaction with the doing of it, I suppose. However, it also is totally a self-indulgence, quite a bit like rushing to be the first one to dig into the whipped cream carton…

Does that help?

How did I become so nutty?

It all began with my mother. I can remember watching her iron for hours on end, to make some spare cash for our family. It was something she could do and still be available for her children.

I remember she ironed for a woman who explained in an embarrassed way that she could not do ironing herself, due to arthritis in her hands, which were all gnarly with the devastation. This woman’s husband played an instrument in a dance band in the early 60’s. His white shirts had to be starched and ironed to a specific degree of perfection.

Watching that project taught me a lot about the right and wrong ways to perform with iron in hand.

I remember she also ironed for a woman who worked outside the home as a nurse. Think white uniform dresses, again totally starched and totally in need of perfection in ironing skills.

My mom was exceptionally skilled at the job, and loved knowing how, teaching me how, and devising new ways to improve.

(She tried re-inventing distilled water for her steam iron, by melting down frost from the refrigerator. Didn’t turn out too well, since the clothing then smelled like fish and bell peppers.)

Oh, it helps to know how.

One factor that adds to the pleasure is adding a bit of cooked starch to the last rinse water, and then hanging the shirts to dry.

After that, spritzing with water to iron makes the fabric stay glossy and in place, and makes the work last until you are ready to waste it on yourself.

As I said it is a self-indulgence thing.

And here is the boiled starch recipe: 1/2 cup corn starch stirred into 2 cups of water, then that mixture stirred into 2 quarts of boiling water. It thickens, some, as you stir, and becomes semi-transparent. Add this hot little mess to a half-washer-load of rinse water and then add all the clothing you want to starch, up to about six shirts or so. Agitate and spin on the gentle spin cycle, which leaves a bit more of the liquid in the fabric.

Hang this clothing indoors to dry.

That is the secret, and it is worth it, to me. This method keeps spray starch off the walls, floor, ironing board, iron, and everything else. It’s how we who really iron get that really good-looking shirt.

More about hanging clothing to dry, here.

Starching also adds to the longevity of any article of clothing, adding durability and protecting from body oils. It is truly worth every moment of the time it takes.

One small note before you reject every bit of this post: Try starching and ironing your favorite piece made of rayon.

You will be forever hooked.

Mmm.

Posted in Blessings of Habit, Good ol' days, Homemaking, Wisdom

Whatever Works: Laundry

I’ve encountered another $100.00!

English: Laundry is hung to dry above an Itali...
Laundry is hung to dry above an Italian street. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ve known for ages that the older ways were kinder on clothing, on the environment, and on the utilities bill, but I just recently found the exact dollar amount.

They say, if I dry my laundry the old-fashioned way, I save about $100.00 every year. I’ve been doing this for many, many years. It’s more like $4,300, really. And it takes only a few moments per day, really hardly any longer than just loading the dryer.

But that’s not all.

No, if we dry our clothes on a line or rack, we extend the life of the clothing about 50%. Of course, we may not make good use of the savings if we are enslaved to the changing of the styles, but for many of us, that represents another huge saving.

But that’s not all.

Clothing dried on a rack come “out of the dryer” pre-folded! How cool is that? I literally take towels and wash cloths off the rack and put them away, as is. T-shirts require only one more fold. Everything is already smoothed, stacks better, and just is twice as easy to put away.

English: Drying clothes
Drying clothes (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

But that’s not all.

How would you like to add to last Wednesday’s health tricks? Drying laundry indoors humidifies the air in the winter, causing the body to fight off upper respiratory problems more efficiently. The result is fewer colds. That’s what they say, and I think I can tell that is happening for us. We’re “weller” without the cost or the mess of a humidifier.

But that’s not all.

Quality of life seems to skyrocket. Towels are more absorbent when they are not gummed up with fabric softener. A rack-dried towel, fresh from the closet, gives a marvelous back-scratching. Cotton t-shirts feel more honestly real when you put them on, and smell better, too, especially if they’ve been line-dried outdoors. We never encounter static cling.

But that’s not all.

If you have never gone to bed between freshly laundered, line-dried sheets, you just come on over to my house, dear, and let me introduce you to some real sleep. Sheets that you can feel, that stay tucked in, and that smell like angel wings — you won’t know what hit you ’til mornin’ honey!

And that’s probably still not all.