Ironing: No Flags. Mending: Six Flags.

You probably have the 6 Flags commercial in your head now. Sorry 'bout that.

Tuesday: I didn't iron. Not even a little. I hid behind the "Jaime is still here and we invited Dad to dinner too" excuse. Jaime is only here once a year, so I think that part was legit.

The truth is that I hate ironing. Hate. It. My husband likes ironing and even uses spray starch when he has the chance. But he learned pretty quickly that I hate ironing so much that it was worth it to have the dress shirts laundered and pressed professionally rather than wait for me to get to it.

I'm not sure where this started. It's not as if I was made to slavishly iron as a child or something. It's just SO tedious and because you are just going to put the clothes on, the are going to wrinkle right away. It's a chore that you undo as quickly as you do.

I'll try again next week. I usually have an ironing party once every few months when I really need my nicer clothes. Maybe I can get into a routine where I do a little every week rather than save it all for the "party".

Wednesday: I mended.

Now, before anyone applauds, I mended stuff that got ruined nearly a year ago. Lance crashed about 15 minutes into the Twilight Criterium of the Gateway Cup which is held during Labor Day weekend. He broke his collarbone, as injury he recognized immediately because it was the same collarbone he had broken a few years before. And I had that moment of race wife ESP and when the announcer said "crash in turn 3", I knew it was my Lance. "The Other White Lance", as my mom used to call him.

We spent the evening in a downtown St Louis ER, awaiting our turn behind the GSWs and car accidents. Lance was kind enough to sit by the crazy man so I didn't have to. Our token black friend came to see how Lance was and realized he really has become white after all these years and lacked the "cred" to sit in the waiting room. (BTW, Tim would laugh if he read this and recalled that night.)

Unfortunately, Lance didn't heal well and ended up having to have surgery in December to plate the bones. The recovery was slow and painful. He's still having some odd pain, especially in crummy weather.

The items I mended needed way less attention and yet it took me a year. The jersey itself was basically just really scuffed and had a few holes rubbed into it courtesy of the pavement. All I could really do was stitch around the holes in order to keep them from growing. He can at least train in the jersey, even though it's really not race worthy. The Craft base layer was simple to repair because I am the one who cut it. The ER folk always want to slice into your kit and you have to stop them and demand that your wife cut your kit off of you so she can salvage it. After all, the kit is expensive and isn't covered by insurance! A good little '50's wife like me can salvage your kit if you let HER be the one to cut it off you!

So that's my Wednesday. I did my husband's mending. And then I rewarded myself by working on a couple of aprons.

Thursday? Churn is traditional but I'm turning "churn" into "shop". We don't need groceries at all. In fact, we don't need anything at all. Oh, wait, we do need baby spinach. And chocolate chips so I can "Bake on Saturday".