Ironing Again

To make my life easier I recently bought an overpriced iron with which to do my huge and constant pile of ironing.

The contraption has a separate boiler for the water. A brass lined boiler. Attached to that is a fabric coated tube which is then attached to the iron. The iron itself has a very heavy base and heats up enough to iron my pure cotton bed sheets in record time.

I am scared of it.

When I was little, my mum cooked a lot of food in a pressure cooker. You kind of chucked everything in the pan and then sealed it shut with a double twist lid. On top of the lid was a little cap that rocked and whistled as some sort of warning.

It was more than once that my mum forgot to attend to that pressure cooker and the pureed slop in the pan was forced at great speed through the teeny hole in the lid and ended up on the ceiling above the stove top.

It used to freak me out whenever she cooked in it. Firstly because of the ominous noise and secondly because it meant we were going to have something gross for dinner.

This iron I bought came with a list of instructions and warnings. It makes hissing noises and the shot of steam is so loud that my dog runs out of the room. It also came with pins to clean things and rubber rings seal things for something else. And some special water measuring tube.

All too hard.

You also need to allow about eight minutes for it to heat up to full capacity so I have to keep the old iron for things that need and iron post haste.

I am getting used to it and it is good.

But I realised something recently when ironing one of my fussy, fiddly white cotton shirts. When they have washing instructions it should also come with a gauge on how shitful the garment will be to iron.

It should say “quick and easy to iron”, or “you will be spend 12 minutes ironing this shirt”.

It may not prevent me from buying the clothing, but at lease I would know what to expect.

Looks can be deceptive.

Ciao

LC

14 thoughts on “Ironing Again

  1. When I was in my early 20’s my Grandmother gave me a pressure cooker. I liked it … I wonder what I ever did with it?!?I don’t like ironing. I don’t iron sheets, ever. My sister still does though.I like your labeling idea!

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  2. There is nothing more wonderful in the world than 100% cotton… until you have to iron it! I use a Rowenta iron that has the most wonderful powerful steam and does an amazing job on even the toughest job with ease. I know you just bought this thing, but maybe you should look into the Rowenta irons…

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  3. Nancy: It is probably hidden deep in the back of a kitchen cupboard – incidentally that is where my inlaw’s pressure cooker has ended up in MY kitchen!!!Mizmell: Mmmmm, cotton is lovely. The new iron is good and does the job – just takes some getting used to. Imagine if I bought another one! My husband would think I was iron obsessed..Izzat: We rarely have days cold enough for a coat here. I am going to have to get one when I go to London in March!

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  4. Ironing…. only thing I can say about that is “No Freakin way”… I only iron as a last resort…. Stew usually has to do his own shirts. As for buying one that sounds so darn complicated… are you mad???? LOL

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  5. Gadgets always seem to take getting used to.My grandma had a pressure cooker but it was pretty tame. Either that, or she was an amazingly good cook.I don’t think I was ever traumatized by any kitchenware while I was a kid. No one ever cooked, after all.

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  6. This is a great post because it is so very truthful. I have solved the problem of complicate irons; I just don’t iron anymore. The space in my kitchen that was once an ironing board cupboard from bygone days, has been converted into a lovely little shelf that houses my retro-stoneware English mugs. It is used everyday now, whereas before, I would open the cupboard only to retrieve the flyswatter I had stashed in behind the ironing board. (I don’t buy fiddly tops or anything that doesn’t wash and wear.) We had a pressure cooker as well. Too true about the fear – both the bit about the top and also what was doled out of the pot when cooking was done. It was never good – either an overboiled mess of ham, potatoes and veg, or a gristly cheap-cut stew that had to be ground between your teeth for ages before you could even think of swallowing it. No wonder I don’t eat meat.

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  7. Kathleen: I think I like fiddly stuff because I want to control it or overcome it. I feel a bit important when I get the better of a fiddly shirt or skirt. Also, deceptively fiddly is a great challenge. You know, they look simple but aren’t. Cheap cut stew – I could vomit thinking of that. My husband LOVES stew. I cook it for him. My son hates it. The whole meat thing is gross to me.

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  8. I would hate to have to cook meat for someone. Thank goodness my husband and I came to the same conclusions at the same time. It took a long time to get our families to adjust to our decision.I like to control the fiddly stuff too, but I find other ways – like folding fitted sheets – now there’s a challenge!Kat

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