Ironing

IRONING Years of ironing starched shirt collars for my father and the aprons we wore for cookery class in school, gave a polished surface to the clothes iron. The end opened like the lid of a box and out came the large stone which we buried in the centre of the open fire, until it turned pink-red, like a slab of jelly. With the tongs we lifted the stone from the fire, transferred it to the iron and began ironing the clothes. As we moved it over and back on the garments, the creases vanished. Every fifteen minutes we placed the stone back in the fire, until clothes for seven of us were neatly ironed and stacked, ready for another week from PERFUME OF THE SOIL, SWAN PRESS l999