Bonnie Bing: Stress reduction, memories and other reasons I love ironing

Don’t you love it when you make a statement and your friends look at you as if you recently arrived from another planet?

That happened recently when I said, “I really like to iron. “

Here came the following statements. “Are you kidding, I would never buy anything you have to iron.” “I don’t even know where my iron is.” “I sold my iron in a garage sale.” “If someone at our house wants something ironed they can do it themselves or wear it wrinkled.”

My love of ironing started early. When I was four I would stand on a chair and iron my dad’s socks. Later I realized the iron wasn’t even plugged in. And who ironed socks anyway? Mom said I would not quit begging her to let me iron so she came up with that solution.

I have fond memories of opening the refrigerator and seeing the ironing that had been sprinkled. Mom used a pop bottle with a sprinkler stopper in it. She said it made the iron glide over the fabric easier if it was damp.

I learned from an expert. She taught me the proper procedure of ironing a shirt. I taught myself that getting distracted and leaving the iron in one place too long is disastrous. Also, the hottest setting doesn’t work on say, chiffon.

Mom would set up her ironing board, the one she got when she got married in 1940, beside the door between the kitchen and dining room. That was in Lawrence. In Wichita her designated ironing spot was in the kitchen next to the refrigerator. The woman ironed everything from jeans to gym suits to pillow cases.

Sometimes I watch television when I iron. Without exception I always burn my finger or hand. My friend Connie, the one who also likes to iron, says she uses it as a Zen time. She never burns herself. My friend Luann used to iron her husband’s shirts and she loved it when I would drop by and visit while she ironed those five white shirts, one for each work day. She said it made the task go faster.

When Karen Shideler, who also likes to iron, and I sat next to each other in the newsroom we kidded about opening a business where we took in ironing. We’d have a big screen television and top of the line ironing equipment. Like I said, we were kidding.

Some people sing while they iron, some hum, some use it as time to think. It’s one of those tasks that you see quick and satisfying results. And freshly ironed clothes are such a treat to put on.

My granny took in laundry and for years didn’t use an electric iron. When she ironed it sounded like she was beating the wrinkles out of the garment instead of smoothing them away. But every shirt, every pair of pants looked perfectly pressed once on the hangers. Can you imagine heating up your iron on the stove continuously while working toward the bottom of the ironing basket? Years later, she was mystified when she was shown a steam iron. And spray starch really got her attention.

Decades ago when mom got a new ironing board she gave me the old one. It’s the right height and it’s sturdy. The legs are wooden and it squeeks, but it’s a favorite thing. When I need to work through something I get it out and iron.

It’s comforting to me because it’s the same ironing board I remember my mom using, the one I “ironed” dad’s socks on, later graduating to handkerchiefs with the iron actually plugged in. And it’s the ironing board I learned how to meticulously iron a shirt with no wrinkles in the collar and pants with a sharp crease.

Next time you have one of those days where you think your head is going to explode, get out the ironing board and iron. Find a crumpled piece of clothing, and make it look smooth and wonderful.

By the way, this works for some guys I know too. Try it. You’ll feel better. Even if you don’t like to iron.