
I used to have a cleaner; she was this whizzy little woman that appeared on a Friday looking much like Mrs Pepperpot. She’d perform miracles with the hoover and feather duster and leave my house looking like a picture out of Homes & Garden magazine and it was delightful. I felt very posh and to be honest always justified it that I had better things to do with 4 hours of my time every week than spend it crucifying my knees mopping my oak floors and marble tiles in the kitchen. However, finances got tight and I had to say [...] Read more »




