The steam rising from the iron
made my face feel warm.
The gusting winds and rain
and dark clouds outside my window
made me feel happy to
delay the inevitable.
My day off bike ride to Bot-hell
and back.
Three miles up and three miles back.
I don't have to like it I just have to do it.
I've had a runny nose since I was a little girl
whenever the weather is cold or windy,
or in Seattle,
both.
The bonus of having chronic sinusitis
is not smelling the three huge giants I live with
or the decaying rat carcases in my walls.
I looked down at the thirty-five new used
handkerchiefs from E-Bay and felt slightly disgruntled.
I don't wear pastels much now that I'm older
and wouldn't be caught dead in orange, purple or turquoise,
so naturally,
those were the predominate borders.
Cute designs on the flowers though.
They smelled like sizing when I opened them
and I knew I'd have to iron them.
pressing the sections into sixteen pie-piece shapes.
With determined imprecision, so that the
scallops of twelve sides would show,
I pressed and ironed.
I would only give Brenda her cut
of new handkerchiefs,
IF she promised not to unfold them in front of me.
She DOES NOT iron her handkerchiefs!
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