Wipe these products from your memory!

Cleanliness, as someone back in the mists of time once said, is next to godliness – and going by the number and range of cleaning products and concomitant utensils available, we must all be lining up for sainthood across much of the western world.

Who knew there were so many ways to wipe down woodwork? Achieve smear-free glass? Make sure the unsuspecting dinner invitee does not succumb to botulism? Prevent your guests from giving in to the temptation of writing “dirty b **** ” on your mantelpiece or carefully positioned console table the moment your somewhat crumpled back is turned?

Not me, certainly. Although on occasion, without going all Kim and Aggie on you, I have been known to take a rush of blood to the head and dash round with a chammy leather and a can of Pledge. It’s a good thing we invite people in occasionally, that’s all I can say, otherwise the only visitors we’d be likely to see on a regular basis would be the Sanitary.

Or Environmental Health Operatives, as they are known in these politically correct days. Although if anyone of my acquaintance wants to waste their time running an exploratory digit along my dado rail or fossick around in corners looking for furballs resembling tumbleweed, let me simultaneously say good luck or hell mend them.

I’m exaggerating, of course. Hazmat suits are not yet de rigueur down our way. But given the general principle around our house that life is too short to wring out a J-cloth, you can imagine how delighted I felt to hear that regular use of many ordinary or proprietary cleaning products is “as bad for the lungs and lung health as smoking 20 cigarettes a day”.

This is not me talking. This is no less an authority than the Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine. As a domestic slob, it makes me think perhaps there is a God, after all, even if He’s not – and doesn’t expect his flock to be – particularly pristine.

The aforementioned journal published a study featuring 6,000 people over a 20-year period who either worked as cleaners or were regular users of certain “harmful” sprays at home.

The answer, it would seem, is to resort to water and a simple microfibre cloth, backed up with a blast of bicarbonate of soda and lemon juice.

Or be a man. Short term effects generally on sufferers from asthma have already been documented but it also appears, according to the good old JRCCM, that though the level of damage it reported was comparable to that seen in the Mrs Mops among us, the study didn’t find any harmful effects in the men they studied. Hmmm, now I wonder why that might be?

A woman’s work is never done causing health problems, obviously. I’m just waiting for the government to slap pictures of nasty lesions caused by All Purpose Flash on the side of each bottle and a minimum unit price on Cillit Bang and the vindication of at least one of my lifestyle choices will be complete.

Perfect birthday

I had a birthday last week – not a big one, I’ve given those up. But it was amazing (although it shouldn’t be, either to me or to anyone else who knows me) the number of cards and pressies that came my way that featured alcohol.

Hollow laughter ensues as you read this. I know, I know. But one particular gift – aptly, from my best and longeststanding friend who has obviously known me far, far too well for far, far too long – stood out as something special. Cocoa gin.

Now, I don’t tend to go for these fantouche flavours in my bevvy of choice. Much though I am willing to try any drink once, I tend eventually to revert to my default setting – I’m a Gordon’s and Schweppes girl at heart.

But this new departure tickled me no end, partly because it seemed to capture and showcase two of the elements that tend to concern, if not obsess, one at my stage of life. Drink and age.

And I feel, having considered it carefully (and tasted equally carefully – I take my subjects seriously, you know, I don’t just throw these columns together) that someone, somewhere is missing a trick, not to mention a commercial opportunity to lasso more of the available grey pound.

Just imagine the combination of oldie-friendly beverages with something that offers a bit more of a kick for the elderly system. Cocoa gin is just the start. G and Tea, anyone? How about Horlicks vodka? Fine whisky matured to perfection in Sanatogen casks. Ovaltine rum. A Complan cocktail? The list is endless.

And let’s face it, you need something more stimulating than a medicinal Wincarnis to keep you awake (and maintain what remains of the will to live) during all those endless TV adverts for over-50 life plans and funeral cost policies. Sod it, I say. Spend the kids’ inheritance on ordering by the crate and the problem goes away by itself. And they won’t need much accelerant in the crematorium.

Moderation in all things? I should cocoa.

Pictures: Getty Images. Don’t expect Helen to be found cleaning up. She’s far too busy enjoying a cocoa gin... or three.