The Mermaid Moving Company or Just Iron Stars On My Boobs

I was looking around at my vast photo collection for a picture of a friend who has just entered the "Facebook World" and I found this little lovely mermaid. Isn't she sweet?

Or maybe she's in agony.

Anyway. I knew that this mermaid picture made it onto a blog o'mine, somewhere. I KNEW it! Turns out that I can forget what I had for dinner last night, but I'm right on about my blog photos. Only it takes me forever to find anything. And...
I always find what I'm not looking for.

Such was the case for the missing iron. I haven't ironed in many moons, my friend. But I'm off on an exciting new adventure that involves sewing, and an iron is imperative.

I looked where I thought the iron should be and found the ironing board. I quickly made cotton candy of the ironing pad. Did you know the ironing pad doesn't wash well? Well, it doesn't. That's okay. I can buy a new one. But where is that darn iron?

I know myself - unfortunately. I know that wherever the iron is, it is in its own box. If I put it in another box, say a box within a box, then it is lost. But I don't usually do this. So I know myself - fortunately.

And I move a lot - across town or new town. Not every year (at least not anymore), but maybe a few times every ten years. Thus I am never organized. eerr-umm. Let me say: I am a Taurus. I like stuff. My stuff means something to me. I take my stuff with me. My stuff was once a car-full, then a small truck-full, then a small U-Haul-full, then a large U-Haul. Now a large (not-so) professional moving company full.

So getting back to the iron. I got my aerobic exercise searching every damn closet in this house - even under the bathroom sink. Finally in the kitchen closet where the light bulbs and vacuum bags are kept, I paused.

Where did I put the iron at the old ranch house? Ding! Above the washer and dryer. Yes!

ps the guy on the phone is calling his wife. "Bring out the El Dorado, honey. With lots of rope!" Seriously. That's what he said.