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We hope you will find inspiration, information and most of all humor as we share our adventures in advancing a more sustainable lifestyle in the beautiful mountains of Western North Carolina.



Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Treatise on Ironing Sheets



I am very excited this week to prepare for a visit from my Auntie Cheryl and my Meemaw.  Meemaw is my only living grandparent, and I want to make sure this is a comfortable, special visit for her.

The preparations have been full of excited hustle and bustle and a good excuse to do some late spring cleaning.  While many folks find cleaning a drudgery, I find it relaxing to care for our little spot of heaven on this earth.  So I was happily humming, dusting, organizing and leaving behind order out of chaos until the sad realization hit me.  Oh God, the sheets!

Meemaw is very particular about her bedding- her bed was The Crown Jewel of Order in her household.  As kids, we were never allowed on her bed after it was made every morning.  Her bed never had a wrinkle or a seam out of place.  You could dent a quarter on the darn thing.  One of my most fond memories is of my Dad - running in her bedroom to waller and roll around on her bed like a dog rolling in cow shit.  He LOVED  to "mess it up".  She would get so aggravated with him!

The creation of Meemaws guest bed has been a labor of love. I had a good excuse to replace our well loved and worn knit sheets with new, crisp white cotton.  Washed in lavender soap and line dried in the sun...   ahhh images of June Cleaver and Martha Stewart danced in my head as I ventured out to retrieve the dry sheets.  

Then the horror of it all dawned....  They weren't billowing beautifully in the fresh mountain air!  The damn things were WRINKLED.   Did I mention Meemaw also IRONS her sheets?

So choking back my inner Erma Bombeck who sagely said 

"No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick. "

I withdrew the iron from the back of the laundry cupboard, fished out the mini- ironing board from the depths of the closet, and proceeded to pour myself a large glass of white wine in an attempt to add some glamour to the task of ironing the sheets.  Sheets which looked great for 5 minutes and re-wrinkled because I do not, nor have I ever used- starch.

Now the bed is made, the rooms ready and while I am inclined to agree with Mrs. Bombeck, I feel I have at least made an attempt to make Meemaw's stay a comfortable one- despite my failure of Ironing 101.