a man ironing on a sunday morning

While sitting in a singlet and undies in the study, listening to Wolfmother at high volumes, and pondering the universe, I hear:

“OH FOR FUCKS SAKE”

This, for the uninitiated, is the sound of a man ironing.  It was followed by an apologetic, “These are the bane of my existence, you know.  Sleeves.”

Hard to argue with that.  I have an amazing tendency to be silent and compliant when ironing is occuring, ever since the man in my life started doing it all without complaint and I’ve had clean and ironed shirts for work without effort.

So I smile, nod, and sing some more Wolfmother.  Which, by the way, is excellent for listening to while cleaning.

Now! To make some Mediterranean style Lima beans, ala Veganomicon.  We’ve only had one V’con disaster, so here’s hoping these are fantastic.