Who irons anymore? Is this another vanishing task of a bygone era? With drop-off services, and no-iron fabrics, I imagine I am the only one to take a load of dress shirts off the clothesline and set up the ironing board on the porch to enjoy the sunshine as I starch shirts.
It all sounds so wonderfully old fashioned and serene. But it’s not. The iron randomly falls over, sloshing water all over the clothing, the board, and the floor because the ironing board rocks back and forth when it’s touched. So much so that I think about setting the ironing board up somewhere near a counter or a table so I can set my iron there while I arrange the shirt on the board. All this teetering to and fro has made ironing become an irritating task, instead of a dazed Stepford-wife pleasure.
Recently, my love tripped over a garden hose as he approached the porch. Losing his balance, he grabbed for the ironing board I was using. Thankfully, I had the reflex to grab the iron. But the board got bent and squashed as he fell over it, bashing his shin on the porch. It didn’t exactly break his fall. I was beginning to wonder if this ironing board was good for anything at all! A few days later, I had it set up again in the kitchen and his eighty-five year old step mother was sipping her tea and watching me iron when she commented, “I have an old wooden ironing board. I have had it forever. I notice yours seems to wobble a lot.”
I explained to her that it is even worse than it was, now that it has caught her stepson.
“I really like mine.” she said.
That’s it. I will find an old antique ironing board, and my troubles will be over. But what are the odds I’m going to come across and old ironing board? And were they really sturdier? I sure don’t remember my mom’s wobbling around when she used it. I don’t remember the iron ever falling off hers either. But I doubt I would have noticed.
My wanter must have been on full blast because the other day I stopped into Salvation Army and over in the back corner I saw a rusty legged old wooden ironing board! That’s right. It had a nice half inch thick white wooden top made of plywood, and big heavy metal green and rusty legs. I grabbed it and set it up in the store and with great anticipation and held breath, I leaned on it.
Oh my. It was sturdy alright. I think I could have climbed up and done some balancing yoga poses on the thing. It was that strong.
I suddenly felt like I had found gold, and I must act casual before someone comes along and tries to take it from me. It’s mine. I found it. And what I should do is patent it! The leg design is completely different from today’s boards. And the spread between the back feet is much wider than the new cheapo hollow bendable faux-metal modern ones. This sucker is heavy! And I would prefer the inconveince of heavy over the bologna of a teetering ironing board that my iron keeps tipping over and falling off of!
So, there it is folks. If there are any lone ironing souls out there who are suffering injured toes from fallen irons and a sincere desire to throw the thing over and stomp on it; here is your tip for the day: hit up yard sales and junk shops and find yourself the treasure of treasures: a wooden ironing board with metal legs! I have decided to celebrate mine. I will paint its rusty legs pink!