Today, I Ironed Boxers

Yes, that is apparently included in the life of mission work.

If there is anyone thinking its glamour (really?) and excitement all the time...feeling needed and doing great works for people...changing lives, saving lives, well, I'm here to tell you that some days you just need to iron boxers.

one of my new best friends. However it weighs about 4 ounces and you have to follow it around to iron as it moves with every stroke.

I guess it took me a few days to fiugre out that we really don't have to wear stiff clothes. After scrubbing them with some pretty harsh detergent and waiting for the sun to come out and shine right in the spot I have room to hang things, I pull them off the line hours later and laugh at the fact that boxers, among other things, can stand in a corner all by themselves. really. (try this if you're bored. Or there must be some reason to do this as a science experiment.)

a view of our clothesline!

This is really no way to treat your husband. After all, he did come in and rescue me last night when there was a roach in our bed. Uh huh, I said a roach in the bed.

Even though he was busy at the time doing something else entirely, he was not going to argue with this crazy person standing there in my nightshirt, slippers in one hand, shoes back on my feet with a flashlight waving wildly, calmly explaining to him, "well, look, it didn't just disappear. It's somewhere in here and we HAVE to find it." He knew there would be no sleeping until he showed me a dead roach...and I mean the exact one I saw alive two minutes earlier. I CAN identify their bodies and he knows this.

So today, I had the brilliant idea that if ironing softens my jeans to the point I can get them on and still bend my legs (with a little work), surely it will work on his boxers. He's tired of wearing cardboard boxes with leg holes.

I'll let you know how that all works out.

our view of the street when we're hanging clothes