I hate ironing. I think it must stem from my childhood when my sister and I were made to do all the laundry for our family of five every Sunday.
As we had no washing machine at home in those days, we had to trudge up to the High Street with our load of dirty laundry and use the local launderette. This took a few hours to wash and dry everything then pack it back into the trolley to trudge back home.
Everything was then piled into a basket and placed next to the ironing board for us to iron.
Dad was quite good at ironing his own clothes when he needed them but mum insisted that my sister and I had to do everything else.
Now that the summer season is upon us, we have opened our small guest annexe for B&B guests so I shall be spending the next few months cleaning, washing and yes - ironing!