Basil Ransome-Davies A healthy dose of vinegar will clean Your windows and wipe porn smears off your screen. A saucer makes a handy weapon if You need to finish a domestic tiff. You overdo the vodka or the gin? Dump all the empties in your neighbour’s bin. Old copies of the Daily Mail will do For visitors who badly need the loo, And anti-orthopaedic chairs for guests Whom you regard as knuckle-dragging pests. Save money by not buying cutlery, Just nick it from the local KFC, And if you want to be your granny’s heir Much sooner than expected, soap the stair.
George Simmers Your eyes, my love, are chilly as the ice With which you shift unwanted chewing-gum; Brisk as your toothbrush when you clear the crumb From toasters are your words, which are not nice.
The vinegar with which you clean the glass Is not more acid; and the potent meths Which gives to ballpoint stains deserved deaths Does not in virulence your glare outclass.
You would be rid of me, my household queen. (Much as with cedar you deter the moth.) Yet I too have a microfibre cloth; So might not we together live and clean?
Would you but spill the red wine of your love, I could, like salt, absorb it from above.
Max Ross How to be thrifty? Let me count the ways: Use what you need when making cups of tea. Don’t fill the kettle like the Arctic Sea But just enough. Eventually it pays. Observe how much you buy on shopping days And what you throw away, then learn to be Less profligate. Buy one instead of three; Then what you’re saving weekly will amaze. Why light a room when nobody is there? Why leave the TV on when no one’s viewing? You’re spending cash on nothing, so take care; The road to thriftiness is worth pursuing. And even though you be a billionaire It’s wise to ponder what your pence are doing.
Brian Murdoch Shall I compare thee to a household tip? Thou art more worth to me than being told That rough winds get in through the tiniest chip, And chewing-gum in holes can thwart the cold. Sometime too hot, the water in the sink May harm your skin, as hot detergent scalds. Your hands are perfect as they are, I think, So put some talcum in your marigolds. But thy eternal beauty drives out grime As water does in a stained coffee cup If you are going to wait a little time Before you come to do the washing-up. So long as men shall breathe or kiss with lips, So long I’ll love thee more than household tips.
Frank McDonald Don’t go forgetful into your goodnight; Check, check that you have left no switches on. It isn’t hard to make an oversight And let disaster rage when you have gone. Before retiring to your bedroom keep A mindful eye on windows, doors and keys Lest mischief-makers enter while you sleep And flee away with anything they please. Then if you feel each part is well inspected And all is like a fort when you retire Sleep soundly in the knowledge you’re protected From foreign guests, from flooding and from fire. If circumstance has placed you on your own It’s wise to sleep beside your mobile phone.
D.A. Prince To whiten grimy grouting, an old toothbrush and lemon juice will clean where dark mould thrives. The same juice freshens worktops, mugs and loo flush (the lowly lemon leads so many lives). Combined with salt it’s good for scouring rust off or scrubbing marble, with a cotton rag. You’ll get the vacuum cleaner’s smell of dust off by slipping a few drops inside the bag. Dried rinds, when buried, will protect the garden from furry diggers — squirrel, say, or cat. Remember that old paintbrush left to harden? A soak in boiling juice will soon cure that. And all homes need it — sliced, and not too thin — with ice and tonic and an inch of gin.
Adèle Geras A lemon cut in half, beside the sink will stop your hands from having fishy fingers. Sprinkled with salt, the lemon’s other half will banish from your fridge a smell that lingers.
And if you iron sitting on a chair the task is not unpleasant. You are free to listen to the radio, watch tv each hankie pressed into a perfect square.
White vinegar cleans all things, more or less And soda water’s good on red wine stains, but should blood mark a t-shirt or a dress hot water will ensure the mark remains
forever brownish. Everybody oughter know that blood yields only to cold, cold water.
Your next challenge is to submit the formula for a successful marriage courtesy of a well-known husband or wife in literature (please specify). Please email entries of up to 150 words (providing a word count) to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 11 October.
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