I've owned irons and an ironing board at some point. Jilli might know and she hasn't been here in well over a year. At some point I'm gong to refuse to move them. If it wasn't last time, it's the next time.
Willow ,'Empty Places'
Spike's Bitches 48: I Say, We Go Out There, and Kick a Little Demon Ass.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Oh, and my doctor confirmed what I'd suspected: bursitis in both hips. Not much that can be done for it that I'm not already doing, but if it gets worse, I'll ask about cortisone shots.
First wife?
preen
I have no ironing board.
I have the world's best ironing board. I think it belonged to my grandmother in the 70s and is super sturdy. It doubles as a craft table.
I also have the very best folding chairs ever made...probably in the 50s.
They just don't make 'em like they used to.
Have I ever mentioned that my sister irons jeans? We all know what that means.
My mother ironed underwear. She never really could explain why.
My mother used to iron my father's boxers. Also, sheets.
He wasn't in/under them was he?
My mom still irons her sheets. I think she draws the line at underwear, though.
Oh, I don't *like* doing dishes or laundry, but I don't really mind them either. I'd prefer not to do them because I am lazy as hell, but, eh, I do them.
But cleaning the bathroom is like a punishment for everything I've ever done and ever will do wrong.
Have I ever mentioned that my sister irons jeans?
We had to iron our dungarees in the Navy. Because a properly ironed set of dungarees were ironed inside out and along the seams so that when you turned the pants right side out the seams pointed inwards. And the shirts had a crease down each side in front and two creases (evenly spaced) in the back. And they had to be starched. Oh, dog, the cans of starch I had. I took all my shirts to the cleaners in when I was stationed in Spain. I could get 5 shirts ironed for, I don't remember, 5 or 10 bucks for lot. Got back to the states and the laundry on base wanted 5 bucks a shirt. I got intimately reacquainted with my cans of starch.