Saturday morning I set out to finish the baby quilt top that I’ve been working on for a few weeks. I did a lot of trimming and some pressing until I had all the pieces put together, ready to assemble 18 blocks (all about 6 inches square) and some setting triangles. I skipped lunch because I was on a roll… and should have known better. It must have been my low blood sugar that led me to sew some pieces in backwards. I had finally finished getting all the blocks together correctly when my husband came home and strongly recommended we go to a local fall festival so I could pet a baby cow.
There are cattle all around here but I’d never gotten this close to a small one. I might have stayed all day but there were small sheep, goats, pigs, etc., for us to meet. Oh, and a quilt top to finish. And more sewing after that!
So the post title is “I killed my iron.” Here’s the official cause of death: bad fuse.
When the machinist woke from his catnap, he agreed with me that the iron was dead. Autopsy to be performed later. And then he set off to his parents’ house to help his dad install a new dishwasher.
He returned with an early birthday present… a gravity feed iron. My birthday isn’t for two weeks, but he’d ordered and received the iron already. He installed it and I couldn’t be happier. I am grateful to have a husband who believes in having the right tool for the job – and who is thoughtful enough to give them as gifts. Timely ones. I am a happy presser. And ironer.
How did I kill the iron, you may be wondering? I was cleaning it and then it stopped working. We have awfully hard water, and I try to alternate tap water with distilled water, and I clean out the iron’s insides when I think of it. Apparently, “when I think of it” wasn’t often enough. Check this out:
And by the way, the reservoir on the new iron is full of distilled water plus de-mineralizer. I’m not taking any chances with the new one.