Tag Archives: ironing

A Pile Of Ironing Or Is It?…..


I’m sure I’m not alone in finding doing the household ironing a chore.

If I had a £1 for every time I’ve declared that we should all join a nudist colony or surmised that half of the neighbours in the street must be putting their laundry in my basket, then I’d be a rich girl!

Let’s be honest – ironing is not the most scintillating of tasks.

I’ll confess to being more than a little OCD about the weekly mountain of creased clothing.

Household rule is that “if it isn’t ironed on Sunday then it can wait until next week”.

Yes, unless by rare exception, I only iron once a week.

I’m beyond fussy when it comes to what order things get ironed in, what hanger they get hung on and about the way T-shirts are folded.

OK – I’m a nightmare and a tad on the weird side of normal about it all. I know! I know!

However, last Sunday, as I was ironing one of Boy Child’s favourite band T-shirts, for at least the hundredth time, I realised that the weekly ironing marathon can actually be a pleasant trip down memory lane.

The T-shirt that triggered this thought was Boy Child’s Alter Bridge shirt. He got it when we went to see them in Oct 2013 when they played the newly opened SSE Hydro. It was an amazing show. The first time I was fortunate enough to hear Myles Kennedy sing live and, yes, I saw that “infamous bee attack” (although I still think it was big fly or a blue bottle).

As I ironed Boy Child’s Black Label Society shirt a smile crept across my lips as I remembered watching Zack Wylde on stage in Glasgow’s O2 ABC in his kilt! What a sight!!

A similar thought was triggered as I ironed Boy Child’s Rival Sons shirt from their 2015 show at Glasgow’s O2 Academy. They too wore kilts. Scott Holiday knows how to rock a kilt and a leather jacket! They too played a blinding set that night. Love to listen to the Jay-bird sing.

I ironed Girl Child’s Slash T-shirt and recalled how happy she had looked posing for photos backstage at the SSE Hydro in Dec 2014 when we were lucky enough to meet the Conspirators and Myles Kennedy. She was glowing with happiness that night, especially when she met Frank Sidoris. What’s not to like? He’s cute and adorable and that hair of his smelled amazing! Happy and oh so precious memories!

I ironed Boy Child’s Ghost shirt and yet again marvelled at the fact I’d taken “communion” on the rail at a rock show. Bizarre memories!

Girl Child’s Nothing More shirt resurrected bittersweet memories. I originally bought the shirt for myself but gave it to Girl Child to try to compensate for two drunk female rock fans ruining an otherwise fantastic night for her. Nothing More were incredible that night in Barrowlands and played one of the most energetic sets I’ve seen.

I ironed my own Black Stone Cherry shirt from the recent Carnival of Madness show in Glasgow. More happy memories of a brilliant show and of a hilarious drive home.

It wasn’t just band merchandise that caused me to reminisce. Boy Child’s now very worn and slightly holey white Aeropostale shirt brought back holiday memories of time spent in the USA with family. Precious memories on many levels.

I could go on but I’ll spare you the rest of my laundry list but you get the idea.

I’d like to say, as the pile grows steadily again, that I’m looking forward to another trip down memory lane next Sunday but that might just be stretching a point.

Irreconcilable Socks and the Solidarity of Shirts

There’s one thing that never ceases to amaze me on a weekly basis and that’s the amount of clothes we go through in this house. I’m sure someone sneaks in here and deposits their laundry in my basket. It used to be a weekly ironing pile I faced on a Sunday – now it’s a veritable mountain with an accompanying mountain range of bedcovers, towels, socks and knickers!

How can four people generate so much laundry in one week?

I’m convinced that once it’s placed in the laundry basket in the cupboard in the utility room that it breeds in the dark.

Shirts! They are like magnets and attract other shirts – usually tangling themselves in each other’s sleeves as an act of solidarity in the washing machine. Between Monday and Friday the three shirt-wearing inhabitants manage to dirty fifteen of them! Grrrr

Socks are another nuisance. Pesky wee things! I’m sure they are playing games with me. At the end of last week I had three “odd” dark socks. What the Hell I thought and threw them back into the laundry basket in the hope that they would be magically reconciled with their partners. It worked! However three other pairs got “divorced” and I still have three “odd” socks!

You’d think, logically, that Girl Child would be the worst offender for generating excessive amounts of washing. True, she does that teenage girl thing – wears it once or sometimes even just tries it on and decides not to wear it – and throws it in the general direction of the washing basket.


The Big Green Gummi Bear is the culprit. His love of water sports and daily trips to the gym are to blame. At the weekend he can work his way through three or four sets of t-shirts, socks and underwear per day. If left unattended for more than twenty four hours this sweaty wet pile exacts its revenge and begins to emit the most foul odour of Eau d’River Clyde. (The washing that is not the Big Green Gummi Bear…well maybe occasionally)

Ironing also has its own magic powers. My rule of thumb is that “if it doesn’t get ironed on Sunday then it has to wait until next week”. I’m a bit OCD about getting it all done on a Sunday (watching MotoGP or Formula 1 does help to get through it quicker). I’ll sort it into two piles- shirts and stuff that requires a cooler iron. By the time I’ve set up the ironing board and the iron, there’s invariably a cat, Frankenstein, sound asleep in the middle of it – on top of something black of course.

I surrender! I’m away to investigate the pros and cons of joining a nudist colony.

Only joking- I’m actually away to hang out the washing!