There’s something very orderly and comforting about ironing. On July 20, 1969, the heat of the iron was like a warm bath on a hot day. The water both cools and softens, and allows your body to merge with the air outside, your discomfort dissolving because you have stopped fighting the weather. You have surrendered to the atmosphere, no longer separate and alone, just one with the clouds and the sky. That’s the way I felt when I was standing in front of the television set ironing.
