The other day I was practicing a lost art…I was ironing! You know, that activity that uses a iron and a ironing board and you press wrinkles out of clothing. I imagine for many of you, this is quite a foreign concept, but before the advent of permanent-press clothing people ironed everything. And as a young lady, I was taught how to iron…starting out with flat pieces such as handkerchiefs, tea-towels, and pillowcases. My Mother would stand along side giving me instructions and encouragement as I learned how not to burn myself on the hot iron. Soon I would have a perfectly pressed item with her mark of approval for doing a good job. So the other day as I pressed her fancy, only for special occasions, ivory damask tablecloth, all those memories came crowding back…and when I was finally done, it too was perfectly pressed, just as she would of wanted it to look…and this afternoon, it will cover the display table at her funeral.
im sorry Pam, i hadnt heard the news.
blessings,
sam
💕
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Thank you so much Sam!
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