How NOT to Be a Domestic Goddess

From the Independent online Deborah Ross: How (not) to be a Domestic Goddess Cooking dinner, cleaning up, keeping the kids out of mischief. Sometimes it can be hard to be a woman. Or maybe, says Deborah Ross, you're just setting your standards too high. Here's her indispensable guide to domestic bliss Published: 08 October 2007 Welcome to the Non-Domestic Goddess Club (GB). This is the largest organisation in the UK for those who have very old lollies embedded in the iced-up walls of their freezer. The Club, founded at some time but no one can say when exactly as the members forgot to write it on the calendar, operates under the slogan: "Nature abhors a vacuum and so do we." The Club also, by the way, abhors the Dyson. This was decided at the last AGM because the fact that it is funky, and won't lose suction, doesn't make it any better and you can't fool us. Minutes from the last AGM are available on request, but only after they have been lost, found, lost, found, lost and then found again at the bottom of the fruit bowl under the small brown furry thing that may once have been a plum but then again could equally be one of those baby koalas for the tops of pencils. Who's to tell? The Non-Domestic Goddess Club of Great Britain expects its members to uphold extremely low standards at all times. Anyone nearly up-to-date with the ironing will have to explain themselves in full, while anyone totally up-to-date will be automatically expelled. Anyone who hasn't touched an iron in years and just tries to pass everything off as 100 per cent linen (including their face) will be awarded free life membership. Ditto anyone who makes Nescafé by placing the mug under the hot tap, both when pressed for time and when not, and who prepares bedding between guests by turning the pillow over to its "fresh" side. The Non-Domestic Goddess Club has this to say about blackened cookware: soak, soak, soak, then throw away when nobody is looking. The Club also suggests never questioning the fact that there is an A to Z in your underwear drawer, as well as a toy knight, some small change (amounting to 87p), a book on houseplants and three Fox's Glacier Fruits. To question can only lead to madness. The Non- Domestic Goddess Club of Great Britain has this to say about socks with holes in: put aside for darning, then throw away when nobody is looking. The Non-Domestic Goddess Club suggests never, ever going right to the bottom of the laundry basket, as anything could be living down there. The Club fully endorses opening the top of the laundry basket, sighing dispiritedly and promptly closing it again. The Club expects all members to have all of the following items at the back of at least one kitchen cupboard: a tin of golden syrup with the lid half-cocked (treacle is also acceptable); an ancient pot of hundreds and thousands; a spilling bag of decade-old lentils; several bottles of food colouring (all green); a variety of exotic pickles and chutneys which seemed like a good idea at the time; any number of herbal teas with tempting names like Mango Carnival and Tropical Fiesta, which no one drinks because they all taste of pond; sticky jars of stuff that can no longer be identified and have bits of old moth wing, spilled lentils and fairy-cake cases stuck to their sides. The Club has this to say about leftovers: decant carefully into Tupperware, place in fridge, leave for a week, then throw out when nobody is looking. Alternatively, place in freezer, leave for a decade, then throw out when nobody is looking. Never throw anything away today that you can keep and throw away at a later date. The Club has sympathy for anyone who has tried to defrost a chicken in the bath or dry a child's swimming costume, just unpacked from last week's lesson, by swinging it round her head. The Club has this to say to anyone who is about 19 years behind with the ironing: gather it all up and throw it away while nobody is looking. Alternatively, bury it at the bottom of the garden, along with the pet goldfish whose bowl was used as an ashtray but died of natural causes all at the same. We hope you have enjoyed this short introduction to the Non-Domestic Goddess Club of Great Britain and that you will always defend the useless housewife whatever. Some people say that the trouble with useless housewives is that they are lazy and just sit around all day reading Hello!, whereas, in truth, they work really, really hard. It's just that so much of what they do happens when nobody is looking. There's more... This is an edited extract from Always go to Bed on an Argument, And Other Useful Advice From the Non-Domestic Goddess, by Deborah Ross (£9.99), published by Profile Books Ltd on Thursday. To order a copy, (with free P&P), call Independent Books Direct on 0870 079 8897, or visit www.independentbooksdirect.co.uk; www.nondomesticgoddess.co.uk