It's a long time since I wrestled my ironing board out of the kitchen cupboard. In the late 1960s my nextdoor neighbour used to iron her baby's nappies - the muslin ones and the terry ones. I realised then that I was never going to be an A* housewife. I don't think my DDs have suffered from being reared in unironed nappies, but they have inherited my dislike of ironing.
Soops kitchen, a place of reflection, refuge and at times revelry.
Daughter says I should always be the one to visit



