Agnes Cleans House. How To Clean Silver With Baking Soda.

AGNES CLEANS HOUSE

AGNES CLEANS HOUSE. AGNES CLEANS


Agnes Cleans House. How To Clean Silver With Baking Soda.



Agnes Cleans House





agnes cleans house






    cleans house
  • When a wrestler eliminates every other man in the ring





    agnes
  • Agnes (1849) The Agnes was a wooden brigantine built in 1849 at Point Brenley, Nova Scotia in 1849. She was first registered in Pictou, Nova Scotia.

  • Agnes (1875) The Agnes was a wooden carvel Schooner built in 1875 at Brisbane Water, that was wrecked when it lost its sails in a gale, whilst carrying Ballast between Sydney and Tweed River (New South Wales) and was lost 6 miles north of Brunswick River heads, New South Wales on the 12 March 1890

  • Agnes (1904) The Agnes was a Launch built in 1904 at North Sydney, that was wrecked when it had a Collision whilst carrying passengers between Snails Bay Sydney Harbour and Middle Harbour and was lost on the 27 January 1906











agnes cleans house - Ultimate Accidental




Ultimate Accidental Housewife, The: Your Guide to a Clean-Enough House


Ultimate Accidental Housewife, The: Your Guide to a Clean-Enough House



Bestselling author Julie Edelman returns with an essential guide about how to get your house clean--or, even better, just clean enough!
Accessible, easy to read, and entertaining, The Ultimate Accidental Housewife(tm) gives you fun, simple solutions to all kinds of common household problems, from scrubbing the stove to spotting those stubborn laundry stains. With plenty of useful tips and tricks for cleaning your house just enough, this accidentally domestic diva offers practical advice you'll use every day--without ever spoiling your manicure.
Find out how to:
Limit your daily workload with defensive cleaning and organizing
Handle "toxic zones" like the bathroom and kitchen
"Fix" problems until the repairman comes
Remove aggressive stains
This must-have little volume splits housekeeping into two categories: Toxic Zones include the bathrooms and kitchen, since they have the greatest chance of housing living organisms that multiply or smell. Not So Toxic Zones include the bedrooms, living room, and family rooms, where dust bunnies are your biggest foe. In addition, helpful sections like I Never Knew You Could Do That! include myriad uses for ordinary household products, and The United Stains Across America, an Accidental favorite, is the most patriotic stain guide you'll ever see.
With Julie's trademark inventiveness and good humor, The Ultimate Accidental Housewife is a sanity-saver for overextended women everywhere.










76% (6)





I Suffer for my Art Bartender.....




I Suffer for my Art Bartender.....





and you can put that bloody camera away as well....................

This review was first published in November 1999

At Gaston's French House, Soho

To London's boozily artistic he was for more than 40 years this country's most famous Frenchman. Now Gaston Berlemont is dead - joining the ghosts of Dylan Thomas, Lucian Freud, Richard Burton, Francis Bacon, Jeffrey Bernard, Brendan Behan, Augustus John and the rest of that louche post-war golden Soho circle in what is left of London's most celebrated watering hole: The French House or - as they all knew it - Gaston's.

Berlemont, who died in the Royal Free Hospital on Saturday of pneumonia at the age of 85, was at the heart of Soho life.

He was not only a publican, but a generous, tolerant and magnanimous presence whose rules were simple: no bores and no requests for autographs (apart from those on the photographs which adorned the walls).

Smaller men would have had a cleaner, quieter, more sober pub. Gaston ran perhaps the only truly great pub. It was at one time a mark of regulars at The French that, as often as not, they were banned from everywhere else.

Born on 14 April 1914 in the pub his father had just taken over as the first Frenchman ever to hold a licence in Britain, he went to school at St Ann's, Soho, and left at 14 to work behind the bar.

After a few other occupations - he was for a while a mechanic in north London - and marriage in 1937 to Gladys, by whom he had two children, he was called up into the RAF, but on demob he moved once more into the pub taking over in 1946 from his father.

The following year, he married again, to Agnes Deschuymer, whom he had met while serving in Belgium. The couple had a daughter, Giselle, the following year.

The seeds of the pub's greatness were already sown. The nickname of The French was in honour of its status as the real headquarters of the Free French in London - de Gaulle is said to have come up with the idea after a particularly good lunch there.

As Soho became the one artistic, liberated oasis in a drab and conservative post-war Britain, Gaston, almost as extravagantly moustachioed as his father, put the pub at its heart. Yet it never sold a pint of beer.

It was an extraordinarily fertile period for London as artists and writers like Bacon, Thomas, Freud, the photographer John Deakin, described once as "impossible, drunken, and annoying" (a combination that arises repeatedly in descriptions of The French's regulars) haunted an area that had the great advantages of being both interesting and cheap: full - as the seductively amoral Henrietta Moraes was to say - of deviant whores and exotic gambling dens.

For many of the circle, the day would begin mid-morning at the Cafe Torino, followed inevitably by a visit to the French.

For some, there was a particular ritual which went thus: "Good morning, Gaston. Could I have a glass of Pernod? I mean, could you possibly lend me a fiver." A drink, and the change from a fiver, would then be handed across the bar. Gaston closed at three, so the group decamped to The Colony. Or maybe, if they got lucky, to Wheeler's for lunch. Then back to Gaston's until closing. Later there was the Gargoyle, and drinking almost until dawn.

Gaston did not so much serve as hold court. His daughter, Giselle, actually stopped working at the pub because, she says, Gaston got jealous.

"I was prettier and got asked out to lunch more often than he did," she says. "He didn't like it. He liked being the centre of attention. The pub was his life."

The next Soho generation - Peter Cook, Marty Feldman, Jeff Bernard, Tony Armstrong-Jones (later Lord Snowdon) - kept it going in the Sixties - by which time Gaston had married yet again - and into the Seventies, but gradually the wild party turned sour.

The pub had been damaged in the Second World War and to finance the renovation Berlemont the elder had sold the freehold in 1945 to Watneys Brewery, which renamed it the York Minster.

As age caught up with the glittering circle, the glamour faded along with the complexions. Then, during the avaricious Eighties, Watney's put the rent up to ludicrous levels.

On Bastille Day 1989, at the age of 75, Gaston retired to his French stamp collection and the lecture circuit, returning to Soho once a year for a birthday celebration, usually at Kettner's.

The pub continued, but it was never the same. "I went back the following year," says Giselle. "And beat a hasty retreat. Everything had changed."












1908 St Agnes School Newfoundland Street St Pauls BS2




1908 St Agnes School Newfoundland Street St Pauls BS2





1908 Newfoundland Street with St Agnes School on the right.

St Agnes was the first church built for a public school mission, and James Wilson's colleagues on the Headmasters' Conference showed their interest in the project by coming to preach. On successive Sundays in Lent in that first year the preachers were the headmasters of Uppingham, Haileybury, Marlborough and Harrow.

The mission had been started in the parish of St Barnabas, Ashley Road, in 1875 by a committee of masters, Old Cliftonians and boys. A curate was appointed, the Revd H. D. Rawnsley, who vividly described the area as he first saw it:

Muck-heaps and farm refuse, on which jerry builders had set up rows of houses, which peroidically got flooded and sucked up fever and death from chill for the poor folk who lived there. No lamps. Streets only wadeable through. A few public-houses of the worst sort...

Mr Rawnsley left, after valiant struggles, for a life in the Lake District. When Canon Wilson became Headmaster in 1880, the mission had been reduced to "a Temperance Coffee House that was run at a loss." A new curate was found - the Revd T. W. Harvey, soon to marry the Headmaster's elder half-sister.

In 1882 a mission hall was opened. It was designed by the College architect, Charles Hansom, and looked not unlike a miniature version of Big School. The people of the district chose the name St Agnes, we are told, because they wanted "a name new to Bristol and a 'lady saint'".

The school's contribution to the St Agnes district extended beyond the provision of a mission hall. In 1884 a working men's club was built, and the following year Canon Wilson at last persuaded the City Council to purchase what was left of the old Newfoundland Gardens on condition that he laid it out as a public park.

Then came that dramatic day in March, 1889, when a telegram arrived at School House: "District flooded; come at once." The Headmaster quickly ordered large quantities of candles and essential food from an Ashley Road coffee-house, and drove down to the harbour where he commandeered a boat. He transported that boat to St Agnes on an empty coal-cart. The boat was launched in one of the flooded streets, and Headmaster and boatman worked late into the night, handing food and candles in through upper windows.

When the floods went down, Mission Hall and Club Room were deep in mud. The College fire brigade was called out, and the Clifton boys - clad somewhat unsuitably in white flannels - took the machine down to St Agnes and hosed and swept and cleaned. That was on a Sunday. By Monday the school had set up a relief fund to replace ruined mats, rugs and bedding, and the Mission became a relief centre. And to prevent any repetition, Canon Wilson badgered the City Council into replacing the damaged culvert that had caused the flooding.









agnes cleans house







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