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Ironing through a void

It seems that there is a national obsession with ironing and a raging debate over whether or not to iron tea-towels. There has apparently even been a YouGov poll about it.

This has been sparked by a Tweet from Kirstie Allsopp – of Location Location Location fame – asking much the same question and prompting a huge amount of Twitter traffic throughout the week. I guess whoever monitors social media for HMG noticed this trending and realised that at some point the government will need to have a position on it, so added to their daily questionnaire. 

I’m not sure whether a Linked In post a couple of days ago was directly as a result of this pressing trend, but a former colleague was seeking a redesign of ironing boards which she considers unsatisfactory and intimidating, if not downright dangerous. I tend to agree on this, and added that my own board, which dates – in my ownership at least – from a jumble sale in 1988, has an occasional fault which results in spontaneous crashing to the floor at completely unpredictable moments. Adds to the jeopardy of an otherwise humdrum life I suppose.

But humdrum and malfunctioning domestic appliances are fine. All of this nonsense pales into insignificance while we wait to hear whether one of my fellow folk-singers can be found safe after leaving his home without phone or vital medication almost 3 days ago. I think several of us have similarly pessimistic thoughts; I noticed two other folk-group members walking down by the riverside yesterday, glancing nervously at the reeds along the banks and hoping we wouldn’t discover anything. I couldn’t bring myself to run and catch them up – there would have been too many tears between us.

This is an odd period of helplessness. An hour’s ironing on Sunday became a form of therapy.

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