The only ironing I ever enjoyed was my father's hankerchiefs. Perfect white squares, easy to manage cotton, and fun to fold and perfectly crease. When I learned to sew as a kid, calico quilt squares were kind of fun too. But any other ironing, particularly men's button-down shirts, drives me mad. Until now.
I threw every Macy's promotion I could find at this thing, but it was still a splurge. Worth every penny. She arrived yesterday and is the best thing that's happened to my perfectly un-domesticated life in a long, long time. I've ironed three times today: once this morning in a mad dash for work, again when I got home (suddenly all those wrinkled shirts were no threat) and this evening I couldn't resist pulling out some fresh calico and sewing up a new batch of sachets. My husband is perplexed, and I think a little concerned.
Oh, Rowenta. Where have you been all my life?