I used to iron shirts and handkerchiefs for fun. I was five and my love for pressing wrinkles was short lived, proven true by the blue gingham button down I wore this afternoon. My grandmother kept a play iron and iron board with a gray slipcover and creaky pink legs that once belonged to my Aunt. The iron was stored in the playroom wood cupboard along with a smoke metal teapot and white Bakelite teacup and saucer. Something about the wrinkled shirt and salmon colored teapot I poured black tea from this afternoon reminded me of the room that held her childhood things.
I’m giving this yearlong project a spin. Undoubtedly, I will fall and pick up again. Knowing this makes it easier. Still, I plan to show up to record a short photo and story of my day. You’re welcome to join me. I’d love it really. We can give each other high fives and geek out with a hashtag (#ayearofus), not because everyone is doing it, but because we’re doing it, together. Showing up every damn day to make this creative habit real.