Britta's Letters from her life divided between city-life in German's capital Berlin and life in a Bavarian village
Showing posts with label ironing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ironing. Show all posts
Saturday, 21 November 2015
"Your mother called it "doing the pressing,"
November - for me - is the excellent month for tidying up, organize, and re-decorate.
For tidying I learned a very good technique from my young friend in Hamburg (he got it from his Serbian grandmother): "If you go from one room to another, always take one thing with you that belongs there!"
Sounds easy? Then how comes that my drawing box is on the long dining table? Of course: yesterday I scribbled a bit, and then I looked TV, and then it was late...
And yesterdays papers on the floor beside the sofa? Ah, yes, I wanted to cut out an article I might write a blog about (on the day that will never come).
And so on, and so on.
I am now old enough to accept a wisdom of my mother: If the homefront-task does not melt away and will not become less tomorrow - DO IT NOW.
So very often I do that now. BUT: there is one thing I really hate doing. Although I wrote a whole chapter in my book about it, and know how to do it: I hate ironing. Looking the dire consequences right into the eye - look at the advertisement above and imagine the deplorable way your clothes will look if you don't!
Procrastinating I wait for the second load of washing ("Then I will do it all in one go"), and wait for a dull TV-film (but that I silence - and if it is good I cannot watch TV at the same time).
So:
"All Gaul is under Roman control, except for one small village of indomitable Gauls that still holds out against the Romans."
PS: The title is from the Poem: Ironing After Midnight" by Marsha Truman Cooper
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)