Tag Archives: Domesticity

A handy household tip

We had a bath in one of the downstairs bathrooms at our new Irish domicile. Somewhere previous tenants used to wash their dogs and also two year olds bearing permanent markers as well by the look of things.

The dog thing was easy. Drains were unclogged by removing the circular grid from the plughole and depositing the foetid mass recovered from the U-bend down the toilet. Scuff marks were removed with ordinary bathroom cleaner and lots of elbow grease. The other part proved more difficult. Bleach didn’t even touch the permanent marker artistry, nor did three kinds of disinfectant type cleaner.

Which left only one obvious choice; acetone, like that found in nail polish remover. But I was loathe to use it because acetone does horrible things to resin and many plastics. Fortunately Mrs S suggested her cheap acetone free nail varnish remover in conjunction with make up remover pads, although I’m sure that cotton wool or even paper towels of any kind would have sufficed.

So I applied the acetone-free nail varnish remover with a series of cotton face pads. Fifteen minutes and a lot of squeaking (With the occasional muted sound of amazement) later, the bath was blemish free and ready for use.

Now I don’t know if it was the ethyl acetate or nethyl ethyl keytone ingredient that cut the mustard, but the end result was a bath fit for human use; gleaming and clean. So afterwards I allowed myself the luxury of a good old soak in a solution of scented Epsom salts with a big mug of tea at hand.

End result; now a pale cloud of oil of Eucalyptus and white willow follows my every motion and I am relaxed and clear headed. A once barely useable bathroom is scented with something other than Domestos and more in keeping with our nasal preferences. Domestic equilibrium is restored.

Sometimes I think we could all do with a good old soak in scented water every so often. It’s so very relaxing. So much more so than just a shower. Perhaps that’s why the world seems to be so up it’s own arse all the time. The protagonists don’t spend enough time soaking all their cares away.

By way of an afterthought, candles and wine are permissible, and for Mrs S essential. She has been promised some of the same to help forget about all the self-important drama queens who abrade our sensitivities on a daily basis. I’m just about up to my back teeth with all the hand waving over climate, some virus that has passed it’s worst and who gets to be king of the castle over the water. The markets may dip, but they will recover. It’ll all be the same in a decade or so.

Pass the bath oil.

Enter title here…

Vintage mosquitosMe and my big mouth. Mrs S was complaining about mosquito bites last week. I made the cardinal error of saying; “They seem to be leaving me alone this year.” Ouch, ouch. Itch. One (Two? Three?) of the little sods got into my office and now I’m paying for my Hubris. Socks and long sleeves are now order of the day. Bugger. I have fumigated twice, and the little bastard(s) is (are?) still treating me like an all you can eat buffet. Where’s the Raid?

Meanwhile, other annoyances over on the other side of the Atlantic.

Watch (again?). Digest. Consider.

The UK’s reasons for leaving the EU should be economic, not emotional, and the economics are screaming “Get out!”. The cost benefit analysis is clear. A similarly honest SWOT analysis also comes out in favour of leaving. Too many rules and regulations, too many protectionist tariffs, few real benefits for the working man / woman / whatever. Not to mention the economic threat of mass migration from a hostile culture via Turkey and it’s attendant cost of 3billion GBP per year extra on the poor bloody British taxpayer. Never mind helping the third world, if it stays in the EU, Britain will become third world. Like Hmm, let me see, Rotherham for example.

Although I have a strong suspicion that actually implementing any British exit from the bureaucratic morass that is the EU will be strongly resisted. Will the unelected bureaucrats and has-been politicians of the EU Commission let Britain leave, even if there is a landslide vote in favour of doing so? Other referendums have been dismissed for not voting the right way, so what do the British do if Brussels and Strasbourg don’t like the vote result and say “Non, no, you can’t go”? To which there is only one answer; “Hey, hey, we won’t pay.” Off with their contributions, say I.

Last word: Britain has tried ‘reform the EU from the inside’ – didn’t work then, won’t work now.

Which begs the question; Is there a can of Raid big enough to get rid of the bloodsucking bureaucrats of the EU?