Ironing!

I hate ironing. It’s just so boringly unnecessary. So this was the morning when I ventured into the small box room where I keep both the board and David’s iron.
It had mounted up.
The room had been David’s with his wardrobe and bits and pieces in a small chest of drawers.
It is now four years since he went aloft but I still feel as though I’m encroaching on his space.
However this is where I set up the ironing board this morning.
Most of my clothes don’t need to be ironed...but the hanky's do.
I counted about 30 this morning...mostly his and substantial.
Along with my black, funereal dog collar shirt that was it!
As I ironed , folding them all into the requisite shape he always liked I played some music on my iPad.
This was a mistake...the only music there was my daughters flute music so I was soon in tears....
I’ve never liked ironing and counted it as extreme good fortune that I married a man who did it in my old age.
But I’ve now got up to date. Counting the napkins I ironed 37 squares this morning whilst listening to some Gluck....her favourite.
Then I had to stop...I never got as far as my black clerical shirt.
Soon I’ll be brave enough to go back and finish it..but the hanky drawer is now full!


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