An Iron (2016 2nd Trip to China)

I was looking for an iron for the clothes I was
about to wash. Dad immediately pointed to a
cabinet where he kept the one mom had. The moment
felt almost magic but I opened the door and there
it was, the 400W 220V 1986 Egret, in its original
box. Untouched by the years, it brought back all
the memories.

Those days, mom was a laborer in a state-owned
restaurant but on the sideline she worked to be a
tailor and had big plans. Later, she was able to
make simple clothes, e.g., pants and shorts, and
peddled them in neighboring towns. She didn't get
rich quick or at all but she kept at it till the end. That iron,
plus a sewing machine, was an investment for her.

She was interested in Chinese calligraphy and got
me hip to it. One goal was to be able to make
large posters (for party slogans and
propaganda, e.g.), a sought-after skill, and she
became good at it. She once showed off to me her
handiwork plastering the walls at her work place.
Another application of that skill was to write
Spring Festival couplets, auspicious phrases on
stripes of red paper pasted on the left, right,
and top of the doorframe. I took over that task later.

It was a heavy piece of metal with no water pouch,
state indicators, or even an on/off switch.
Talking about minimalist design. The power cord
was separate, like that of a desktop monitor. You
just plug it in and start ironing. It would go through
a slow start, get freaking hot over time, and take
a LONG while to cool off. Someone using it often
could develop the sense of timing and make very
efficient use of the tool.  For me, when the rubber
met the road, the 30-year-old iron worked great.