But I do like ironing. I do it so infrequently, I associate it with getting all fancied up to go out to a special event.

And everything about it is so relaxing… The sound of the water in the iron, the hiss of steam. That clean smell, rising with the hot steam. You’re forced to slow down and pay attention, if you want to get it right.

Whether you’re alone or sharing the moment with company, it’s a recipe for encoding a core memory, deep in there, pinned in place by multiple senses.