I found these beautiful, lacy things on an afternoon walk through Glen Mary Park. They were curled and crumpled in damp piles, so I brought them home and tried to flatten them for a photograph.
They resisted, so I ironed them.
First with steam, because I was afraid they would crumble, then with a dry iron because the steamed leaves curled as they cooled off.
I did pause at one point and think, “I am ironing leaves. Most people don’t iron leaves.” At least I didn’t say it out loud, because I would have been talking to myself and that would really be kind of, you know, weird.
No, I don’t iron leaves. I don’t iron anything. I do talk to my cat though. ;-D
Well, of course. They get offended if you don’t.
I don’t iron anything either and it has never occurred to me to iron leaves. I am very happy you thought of doing so – love your new woodland series.(we used to catch my mother talking to herself – she would say “At least I am talking to someone intelligent!”)
Let me be clear that the ONLY thing I have ironed in the last four years has been these leaves.