Sunday, 12 August 2012

The Ironing Board Monster

I don't know about anyone else, but we have one in our house.  Old, a bit battered and rather clattery (it's made of metal so makes very impressive sounds, especially since the joints have seen better days...actually it reminds me a bit of me!)  It is, however, serviceable.  I got it in Eastbourne just after Mark and I married.  There was a charity there who sold second-hand furniture at ridiculous prices to those of us who were impossibly poor and that's where I found our ironing board.  It cost us a pound and I'm not sure which seemed crazier to me - the price or the look of wistful desire I was aware crossed my face when I saw it.  I still feel embarrassed by it.  There are a lot of things a woman could or should look at with desire but I'm sure an ironing board is not amongst them.

 We have two dogs (actually, we have two dogs, a one-eyed cat and a very imperious guinea pig but there we go). Both are Border Collies.  Murphy (who is three) was bought when we hoped to be able to rent a smallholding in West Wales but we were conned and so returned to Cardiff poorer but with a huge amount of seeds and a dog.  Misty is one.  The idea was to give Murphy someone to be around since he loves playing with other dogs so much but he's ultra-submissive and she- well, she isn't.  I do feel sorry for him, and guilty at buying Misty even though our intentions were good.  Honest.

Misty is incorrigible. Reprimands bounce off her, as do scowls, growls and snarls. Her default is to put her ears back (they are ridiculously big), pick up a plastic ring and cock her head on one side. I can see her saying, 'look; I'm cute.'  Unfortunately (for me) it works all too often. She is confident in her belief that everyone loves her, she can do no wrong and the cat (Millie) is itching to play with her. She's wrong, but you have to admire her confidence.

In fact the ONLY thing that can disturb Misty's equilibrium is the aforementioned ironing board monster. There's something about it that really rattles her. One just has to touch it - and I mean touch. Not start to pick up, not rattle. Literally stretch out a finger.  Poof - she's gone. Out of the house, around the side and cowering by the side gate. Nothing you say or do will get her to move until she is positive the Thing is back in its lair.  

Mind you, Misty isn't the only one scared of the thing.  Since I brought forth the edict that everyone is responsible for their own ironing, Flavia has decided her clothes don't need to be touched whilst Mark...well put it this way. Have you ever bought bags in CostCo?  You know the sort to put shopping in.  Huge, unwieldy things?  Currently he has two of those filled with things waiting to be ironed - which is pretty good going considering he spent about three hours last week ironing.  That's what happens when you like your clothes (including jeans) ironed. I try to be sneaky and get away with wearing clothes that don't need ironing. It doesn't necessarily work very well but at least I try.

I'm waiting for Mark to suggest we try naturism - although considering our weather I don't think he'd last for long!

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