I Despise Ironing…

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Abstract

     <h2>I hate ironing. The only thing that sees a hot iron in my house these days is my hair.</h2>
            <div><h3>I’d be lost without my straightener that tames the frizzy, wayward locks into some sort of normalcy.</h3></div>
            <div><p>medium.com</p></div>
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    </div><p id="8c3f">I can’t imagine heating up the coal-fired stove to warm these flatteners and then painstakingly navigating all those creases and folds associated with clothing from the era. It’s bad enough plugging the appliance in and creasing those curves.</p><p id="775c">How ingenious to have different sizes. I used to swear at my iron as I tried to press cuffs, sleeves, and collars with the nose of a beast.</p><p id="d0bb">I did often wonder how they even held those hot cast-iron beauties. Well, I decided to google it — and guess what? The first thing that popped up was a story from a Mediumite from 2 years ago. Thank you, <a href="undefine

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d">Stephanie Stocker</a>, for your informative article!</p><p id="e5ce">Please read it and give her some love!</p><div id="094f" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/hunka-hunka-burnin-death-how-sad-irons-got-so-sad-f7cd3e8a16e2"> <div> <div> <h2>Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Death: How Sad Irons Got So Sad</h2> <div><h3>Antique sad irons are fun to collect. But the history of ironing is bleak for women and girls; even more so in rural…</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*0sdJRhhxluvlfM0r)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="3e80">Is this my 4th or 5th <i>Collections</i> prompt article? I’ve lost count! Clearly, it’s been a great reminder of some ‘mindless but precious stuff’ inhabiting my space.</p><p id="abc5">Thanks to <a href="undefined">Sandi Parsons</a> and the Six-Word team for the opportunity to let off some steam.</p><p id="b313"><i>No pun intended! </i>🙄😎🤣</p></article></body>

…but old antique ones are intriguing.

I’ve had this antique iron collection for years. Can you tell by the dust?!

Sorry, I didn’t spit and polish for the photo op, and I did stage this. They’re usually collecting dust bunnies on the window ledge or at my front door, awaiting the time they’re required to prop it open. It doesn’t happen often.

Despite loathing the task of ironing, and the fact I avoid it at all costs, these ‘guys’ are rather wonderful.

Side note: I’m cross with myself for using a stock photo for the following story when I have the replica iron in real life!

I can’t imagine heating up the coal-fired stove to warm these flatteners and then painstakingly navigating all those creases and folds associated with clothing from the era. It’s bad enough plugging the appliance in and creasing those curves.

How ingenious to have different sizes. I used to swear at my iron as I tried to press cuffs, sleeves, and collars with the nose of a beast.

I did often wonder how they even held those hot cast-iron beauties. Well, I decided to google it — and guess what? The first thing that popped up was a story from a Mediumite from 2 years ago. Thank you, Stephanie Stocker, for your informative article!

Please read it and give her some love!

Is this my 4th or 5th Collections prompt article? I’ve lost count! Clearly, it’s been a great reminder of some ‘mindless but precious stuff’ inhabiting my space.

Thanks to Sandi Parsons and the Six-Word team for the opportunity to let off some steam.

No pun intended! 🙄😎🤣

I Despise Ironing…

Six Word Photo Story Challenge: “Collections”

…but old antique ones are intriguing.

I hate ironing. The only thing that sees a hot iron in my house these days is my hair.

I’d be lost without my straightener that tames the frizzy, wayward locks into some sort of normalcy.

Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Death: How Sad Irons Got So Sad

Antique sad irons are fun to collect. But the history of ironing is bleak for women and girls; even more so in rural…