A sterling PITA

There are few chores as laborious and vexing as polishing silver. If you were to ask the lovely and gracious Poppy (L&GP), she'd probably tell you it is in her Top 3 Irksome Chores.

In a sense, we're fortunate ovah heah, because whatever sterling we might have inherited is now the property of the people of the People's Republic of Cuber, seized so that the proletariat may no longer have their meager crust of bread wrenched from their collective mouths by a sterling grape fork wielded by some plutocrat.

But I digress.

Yes.

Sterling.

Dunno how it is at your place, dear Internet, but here on the ragged fringe of paradise, silver tarnishes like a muhfuh. Our antique coffee and tea service* and the most excellent vintage cocktail shaker the L&GP gave me for my 40th are recidivism at its worst, tarnishwise. The flatware stays in good shape owing to the fact that since our wedding day we have yet to have anyone over good enough for such utensils. They are certainly too good for the likes of us.

We have a few other sterling bits (trays and champagne buckets) which also get their fair share of tarnish and, every X months we get sick of looking at the anthracite-colored things and my wife decides I must earn my keep by polishing them.

It is here where the story brightens.

Literally.

A while back, whilst visiting the L&GP, I was shopping for a little anniversary bauble for TFBIM (at the time it was the 15th anniversary of our 1st date, a Class D Gift occasion) and I wandered into a store called The Sterling Works. While I didn't find anything that'd suit TFBIM (most of the stuff they had for women would best be classified as "funky" and Poppy will testify that TFBIM doesn't do funky** AT ALL. But I did manage to find some interesting cufflinks for her brother's birthday AND (here's the good bit) the most amazing polishing cloth.

The sales associate was polishing some pretty far-gone bits and I was so impressed I dropped an extra $3 just to take my own survey of its properties. Damned if it didn't work like magic. The cloth is folded over and stitched up to make a square "mitt" and all you do is rub the bloody silver things and they look all gleaming and $#!+.

So I asked the L&GP to pick up a small bale for me next time she sauntered by. Which she kindly did and now I don't totally hate this chore.

$3, people.

-J.

* Miss Manners would probably disapprove, but this is how it is done in southern Mediterranean countries, whence this set came. I bought it because it serendipituously had my monogram, which I took as a Divine indication God wanted to make it up to my family that our silver had become "the patrimony of the State" and an indispensible part of agrarian reform.

** To TFBIM funky = aging hippie or young hippie wannabe. Don't shoot the messenger.