As I perused the store shelves for a new iron, it struck me that I seem to be doing this often, perhaps every two years? How many irons have I owned since I realized the merit of being neatly pressed? It seems they have a limited lifespan, either wearing out or falling to a shattering death. Of all the appliances I've used, the iron is a constant fatality for me. This new one should be afraid, yes, very afraid.
The last time I was in need of a replacement, Covid was raging so I sent hubby out to do the shopping. They all seemed to do different things and confused the poor guy but I said I wasn’t fussy, the only function necessary, besides steam, was an automatic shutoff. There is nothing more anxiety inducing than coming home after work to find the iron has been left plugged in and hot as hades all day.
So, I had to splurge for yet another iron. This one replaces the huge, heavy one hubby bought me the last time. He figured bigger was better in his attempt to please me. I said nothing, after all I gave him the go ahead to make the decision, it just isn’t fair to criticize after the fact. Unfortunately, I couldn't see how much water was in the tank. There was a line drawn that said Max Fill but I couldn't see the water level through the opaque plastic and unless I shook it, I couldn’t tell if it had water in it or not.
And, the stream function button was on the right side of the two buttons on the top, one for spray and the other for burst of stream. The previous iron had the steam button on the left which worked well, my thumb lined up perfectly. It’s a small nit-picky thing that plays with my ‘I hate change personality’. Quite frankly, it was an iron for a man, big and heavy and awkward, the reason it fell off. Top heavy and tippy, it fell to its demise from a light jiggle to the board as my hip brushed against it. I picked up its shattered bones and wiped up the spilled water bleeding all over the floor.
Irons aren't cheap. They range from a low bells and whistles price tag in the high twenties to over one hundred dollars. The less expensive ones had little heft similar to a plastic toy and the higher end one was heavy in the box. I don't need anything fancy, just a steam and shut off function so I chose one in the medium price range of forty something. The bottom has a shiny and smooth coppery metal plate. An iron for a crow like me, blingy and awesome, fits in my hand like a glove, the buttons are all in the right place and I can see the water in the tank. I used it and had a fabulous experience. We were made for each other and I’m in love with yet another inanimate object. If all goes well, this could be the iron I end my life with. Hopefully it lasts longer than two years!
Thinking back, I don't remember my mother ever needing a new iron and after she passed, her old faithful was still ready for service. It landed in a yard sale and is probably still accommodating the new owner. At the time, I didn’t realize the struggles I would have with irons or I would have snapped it up for me. Everything was made better back then and sadly, today’s appliances are all throw away, used for a short period and then into the land fill they go.
The last time I was in need of a replacement, Covid was raging so I sent hubby out to do the shopping. They all seemed to do different things and confused the poor guy but I said I wasn’t fussy, the only function necessary, besides steam, was an automatic shutoff. There is nothing more anxiety inducing than coming home after work to find the iron has been left plugged in and hot as hades all day.
So, I had to splurge for yet another iron. This one replaces the huge, heavy one hubby bought me the last time. He figured bigger was better in his attempt to please me. I said nothing, after all I gave him the go ahead to make the decision, it just isn’t fair to criticize after the fact. Unfortunately, I couldn't see how much water was in the tank. There was a line drawn that said Max Fill but I couldn't see the water level through the opaque plastic and unless I shook it, I couldn’t tell if it had water in it or not.
And, the stream function button was on the right side of the two buttons on the top, one for spray and the other for burst of stream. The previous iron had the steam button on the left which worked well, my thumb lined up perfectly. It’s a small nit-picky thing that plays with my ‘I hate change personality’. Quite frankly, it was an iron for a man, big and heavy and awkward, the reason it fell off. Top heavy and tippy, it fell to its demise from a light jiggle to the board as my hip brushed against it. I picked up its shattered bones and wiped up the spilled water bleeding all over the floor.
Irons aren't cheap. They range from a low bells and whistles price tag in the high twenties to over one hundred dollars. The less expensive ones had little heft similar to a plastic toy and the higher end one was heavy in the box. I don't need anything fancy, just a steam and shut off function so I chose one in the medium price range of forty something. The bottom has a shiny and smooth coppery metal plate. An iron for a crow like me, blingy and awesome, fits in my hand like a glove, the buttons are all in the right place and I can see the water in the tank. I used it and had a fabulous experience. We were made for each other and I’m in love with yet another inanimate object. If all goes well, this could be the iron I end my life with. Hopefully it lasts longer than two years!
Thinking back, I don't remember my mother ever needing a new iron and after she passed, her old faithful was still ready for service. It landed in a yard sale and is probably still accommodating the new owner. At the time, I didn’t realize the struggles I would have with irons or I would have snapped it up for me. Everything was made better back then and sadly, today’s appliances are all throw away, used for a short period and then into the land fill they go.
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