Reasons my day was pretty good

Today was pretty danged good for the Grammarian for the following reasons:

1. I got to talk to Her Coolness, Ms. Erin C., shortly after she'd jumped out of a perfectly good airplane. Erin, I suspected it before, but now I know you most certainly have a pair (metaphorically speaking, of course), and that pair is made of steel. Three cheers for Erin and her metaphorical twins!
2. At the store today I found $40 lying on the floor. I handed it over to the cashier, who said I should just keep it. I felt guilty doing so, however. She insisted I at least give her my name and number, saying she'd call me at the end of the night if the rightful owner didn't show up to claim the money. I felt OK about that. Then, as I was leaving the store, she said, "You know, you should have it. You found it." The five or so other customers registered their agreement, so you know what? I accepted. I'm $40 richer! Yay me! I guess I do feel a bit guilty, though.
3. After years of prodding from one Jam Gato, I finally decided to get an over-the-door ironing board. This is huge. As many of you know, I'm a bit compulsive about ironing. I think my love of the act is related to my love of vacuuming. If I don't iron my clothes before donning them I feel slightly uneasy (or greatly uneasy, depending on the circumstances). Something about ironing really soothes me. Wrinkles? Gone with one burst of steam and a deft sweep of the iron. Creases? Eradicated with swift precision. I iron almost everything. Even T-shirts. Is this normal? Probably not. Do I care? Not at all. I'll take my comfort wherever I can find it, and readers, I find it in my Rowenta iron.

For most of my adult years I've had my ironing board permanently erected in my bedroom. As I've mentioned, I move rather frequently. Each time I've moved and started planning how to arrange my furniture, I've thought, "Where will I put the ironing board?" A few years ago Jam Gato posed a radical thought: Did I realize that most people don't consider ironing boards furniture? Why not put the ironing board away when I'm not using it? What, I asked? How could I possibly? Then she suggested I purchase a handy over-the-door model. Nonsense, I thought. Where would I put the iron when it's still hot? And so I continued my old ways.

Having one's ironing board up at all times presents challenges for those of use who live with animals. Young Simon simply adores jumping on them. This doesn't always cause problems, but when he leaps to the ground, roughly three times out of 10 he sends the iron crashing to the ground or into the wall, causing scuffs or even chips in the paint. He can't help it, of course. Cats like high perches, and they like to leap. But it's not good for my walls, and it's potentially dangerous for Simon Sgt. Def Nip Shaddock.

So, readers, I did the previously unthinkable: I purchased an over-the-door ironing board. It's petite and blue, and I love it. My new apartment has a convenient hearth in the bedroom. It's built to withstand heat, I figure, so it's the perfect place to set my iron after use. The old ironing board? Folded and tucked away in the bedroom closet, where some people would say it's belonged all along. I now have space for a computer desk and possibly an exercise machine, and I'm most pleased.