Dashing Away With The Smoothing Iron

[poliphilo]

 A band of heavy cloud lay along the spine of the Downs all day yesterday. I was hoping it might shift a little eastward and give us some rain but it never did. I don't know if the towns on the far side of the Downs- Seaford, Newhaven, Brighton- were getting any but I assumed they were and was envious. 

I went to the Friends Meeting again. The people there are elderly and middle-class and in talking to them I find myself channelling my friend Professor S.B.- who was educated at Winchester and Kings and has the nicest manners of anyone I know. One of the elders had her dog with her. I'm not a dog lover but this little animal was so pretty- and radiated so much goodwill that I had to go over and fuss it. During the hour of silence it lay down and went to sleep. The vibe gets to it, said it's owner (only she didn't use the word "vibe") and it succumbs.

I have often wondered why we hang onto an iron and ironing board when we never iron anything- but now I know. One of the things we have to do before sending my mother into a nursing home is put name tags in all her clothes- and the ones we bought need to be ironed on. I have always told myself I hate ironing but once I get into it I find it pleasant and relaxing. Once upon a time my mother affixed name tags to my school clothes and now I'm doing the same for her. And so the world turns...

When I was a kid there was a song I knew which began something like this...

'Twas on a Monday morning
When I beheld my darling
She looked so neat and charming
In every high degree.
She looked so neat and nimble-o
A-ironing of her linen-o

Dashing away with the smoothing iron
She stole my heart away."

There was, I should imagine, a verse for every day of the week- but I only ever knew the first and have no idea how the narrative developed. I haven't heard it in decades.

I bet it's online, though....

Comments

[cmcmck]

That was one I learned on: 'Singing together'.

Remember that? :o)

[poliphilo]

Was that a TV show?

I forget how I learned it. Maybe it was at school. Maybe my mother and/or grandmother taught it me.

[cmcmck]

Radio show on the Beeb- a school singing programme.


Twas on a Monday morning
That I beheld my darling,
She looked so neat and charming
In every high degree.
She looked so neat and nimble-o,
A-washing of her linen-o.

Chorus (repeated after each verse):
Dashing away with the smoothing iron,
Dashing away with the smoothing iron,
Dashing away with the smoothing iron,
She stole my heart away.

'Twas on a Tuesday morning
That I beheld my darling,
She looked so neat and charming
In every high degree.
She looked so neat and nimble-o,
A-hanging out her linen-o.

'Twas on a Wednesday morning
That I beheld my darling,
She looked so neat and charming
In every high degree.
She looked so neat and nimble-o,
A-starching of her linen-o.

'Twas on a Thursday morning
That I beheld my darling,
She looked so neat and charming
In every high degree.
She looked so neat and nimble-o,
A-ironing of her linen-o.

'Twas on a Friday morning
That I beheld my darling
She looked so neat and charming
In every high degree.
She looked so neat and nimble-o,
A-folding of her linen-o.

'Twas on a Saturday morning
That I beheld my darling,
She looked so neat and charming
In every high degree.
She looked so neat and nimble-o,
A-airing of her linen-o.

'Twas on a Sunday morning
That I beheld me darling,
She looked so neat and charming
In every high degree.
She looked so neat and nimble-o,
A-wearing of her linen-o.

[poliphilo]

I don't think I ever listened in, but who knows; it's an awful long time ago.

[conuly]

Not much of a narrative - in the days before modern laundry, it apparently took a whole week to finish the job, from ironing to airing to everything else.

[poliphilo]

I suspect a degree of poetic licence is involved. Surely all these actions would have been performed on a single day...

[qatsi]

The first line matches Flanders and Swann's The Gas Man Cometh, but the rest doesn't scan for that tune.

I imagine things like name tags make it seem more real. From what you've written recently it sounds like you (and your sister) have carefully considered what is for the best, and I hope it works out.

[poliphilo]

It was one of those songs- like Hearts of Oak and Early One Morning- that every schoolchild was presumed to have been taught. F and S knew their audience would recognise the reference.

The nursing home we've selected is a converted country residence- apparently authentically Tudor though it looks mock. It has a garden and they let dogs in- and my mother loves dogs. It's the sort of place she'd have chosen for herself if she were still capable of choosing.