When your husband asks, "How did the ironing go today?" you might think that the romance has gone up in a hot puff of steam, but you would be mistaken...stick with me, it'll make sense, at least in Sewphie world.
I decided to change my ironing board cover. I know, BIG decision, but, as you can see from the picture, one that was way over due.
As I was getting ready to head out and find an extra-wide cover (not easy to find and part of the reason the totally gross current cover had to last so long), I had a flash of brilliance, or at least a blast from the past. I have wanted an "ironing table" since I used one at my first costume shop gig XX years ago. (that's a really long time ago) A table big and sturdy enough to handle lots of yardage without wobbling or folding up on itself (or 'down' in the case of an ironing board), a table that doesn't go to an obnoxious point at the end so that there is a series of 'v-shaped' wrinkly spots along one selvage, a table...I could see the fuzzy edged vignette in my head, like a dream sequence in a sitcom...sigh!
OK...no cover....new plan, a whole new table!
I headed to Loews, where all respectable DIY projects start. I should have taken pictures of the blank stares I got as I tried to rope the sales folks into my project with my unbridled enthusiasm and the exuberant arm waving that accompanied my description of the "ironing table" concept. But once they got on board (no pun intended) there were lots of suggestions and creative ideas.
I headed home with a 6 foot pantry shelving unit, a 22" X 54" piece of particle board, some metal straps and a staple gun. The shelving unit supports came in 3 foot increments, which put the top of my table at the perfect height (for me). I covered my board with 2 layers of wool coating (one bright purple and a second more subdued rusty tweed) and covered the whole thing again in a heavy cotton drill, strapped it to the top shelf and...Bob's your uncle...ironing table!!!
It is with a wee bit of embarrassment that I tell you how dang excited I am about my new table. I suppose waiting XX years for it made it that much sweeter. But, my dear husband recognized the momentousness of the occasion as soon as I dragged him into the workroom to show him my day's accomplishment. So when he came home the next day and asked, "How did the ironing go today?" he wasn't patronizing me - he was giving me the chance to bust out in pride and joy all over again - what a sweetie. So you see, Romance is not Dead.