Because my Dad was an Engineer, inventor, handy man and all round creative person, we often had some interesting things in our home.
We had a basement that was really a workshop, an inventors palace. Oh, how I miss that!
One item housed there was a white metal monster, an iron steam roller. Not the kind to flatten your laneway. This flattened your clothes. It was a steam press. It was BIG.
Isn’t it strangely comforting that such weird things as an unwieldly machine can evoke such sweet memories of our youth and home?
It was awesome.
I loved using that machine. I hate ironing, so this thing was a teenagers dream (in those days pressed clothes were a BIG deal), My Mom pressed everything however, and that was a bit overwhelming. Like me, many of my childhood friends had mothers who ironed their underware, some even their shoelaces! Well, my Mom just ran them through the white behemoth in the basement while others slaved and sweated over hot irons.
These beasts still exist, and work! If I were ever to take up domestic engineering (no future plans for that!) I would get a modern steam press. But there is something wonderful lost in the new ones. I’d miss the big cotton cloth roller, the gleaming metal press, those long metal bars to hang your clothes on. The joy of seeing your clothes disappear under the steel cover as they were rolled away to reappear underneath all beautifully pressed.