I don't have much time, between trying to squeeze in sleep and children's doctor's appointments - the roofers delivered roofing materials this morning, asked me to move my van, and there was no more sleep. Stink. But I had to respond to you all about the ironing. After I stopped laughing.
I did NOT grow up in an ironing household. My mom and Margo will attest to that in a heartbeat. Something about my mother having to wear itchy starched clothes as a child and the maid doing all the ironing. But I LOVE LOVE LOVE linen. And fine cottons. And I love for them to look crisp and beautiful.
On top of that I love to smock and sew heirloom clothing for babies. No, no store. Smocking takes many, many hours and doesn't pay to do it for money. But sewing and smocking means pressing every single step of the way. And it feeds my soul. Sick, huh? You ironing addicts understand.
Now let me address those of you with the vacuuming addiction: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!? Ironing I do once a week. But I know you vacuuming fiends. You do it EVERY DAY. Sick, sick, sick. I mean, you can send me your ironing, but I can't send you my carpet. Maybe that's what's got my panties in a bunch.
Pinky swear, I'm catching up on all of you this weekend.
Until I write again ...