Ironing

I did a lot of house cleaning today in preparation for company; Ed's uncle was coming in from California on his way to Pittsburgh for Thanksgiving and decided to stop for the night. Since I had to prepare for the holidays anyway, this served as a great motivation to get the whole house clean...and I mean scrubbing and polishing, vacuuming, dusting...and now I'm happy to say that my many hours of hard labor are finished.

One of the tasks on my list was to wash the linens on all the beds and iron the clean pillowcases. I have no idea why, but I really love ironing pillowcases. I love the fresh smell, the repetitive motion, and seeing all those wrinkles disappear and everything just smooth right out. Pillowcases are easy...not like button-down shirts that require all those complicated angles. It's a truly pleasant task once I haul out the awkward ironing board and set everything up. And I absolutely love to lay my head on a fluffy pillow covered with freshly ironed pillowcase at night.

When my children were little, I set aside one day every week for ironing. In those days I didn't hold a outside job - I was a full-time wife and Mom and I was determined to be the best at it. I starched and ironed all their little clothes, and pressed their jeans with a crease. I remember that I particularly liked listening to Richard Harris while I ironed. Most of you younger people only know him as Professor Dumbledore in the first Harry Potter movie. He was an amazing Irish actor, singer and songwriter, and my mother had often played his albums when I was little. I still love listening to him and am sad to see that iTunes only has one of his albums. The one particular song that reminded me so much of my life then is"The Yard Went on Forever" and it's about the commonality of housewives and mothers that transcends time and place. I found myself practically on autopilot today, singing to the rhythmic back and forth of the steaming iron:

"There were houses, there were hoses

There were sprinklers on the lawn

There was a ironing board

And she would stand and make her understand him

And ask the children what they'd done at school that day

And the yard went on forever.

There were blouses with print roses, checkered shirts and white levis

There was a frying pan and she would cook their dreams while they were dreaming

And later she would send them out to play

And the yard went on forever.

Is everybody safe?

Does everybody have a place to hide?

Is everybody warm inside?

Hear them singing

All the women of Pompeii

Standing with the Nagasaki housewives in doorways

In eruptions and destructions on doomsday..."

Those days when my children were little went by so fast. I think I like ironing because it always brings them back to me and even though there are few things I take the time to iron in my hectic life today, it still makes me feel like I am taking extra good care of someone; that I'm letting them know that I care about them.

So tonight our guest will sleep on a crisp, freshly scented, lightly starched pillowcase. And so will my beloved husband and I.