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How does one clean ones silver? (tongue in cheek)

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My mum and dad are sadly no longer here, they are in the great moors of the sky...I have their silver plated tea service which is in a cupboard.

As I am an only one and have no children it seems pointless not to use this.however it needs a clean.

It is my intention too use it every day............it was Dad'd 20 year service award from ICI...................any hints on how to clean it up?

I was so impressed with my Kate's green cleaning suggestions.........silver???

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I'm sure the butler will see to it and instruct the staff. :wink:


8) Others will have some good tips, but just wanted to say, what a lovely thought.

It was made to be used, so such a shame to be shut in a cupboard forever.

Everytime the sun shines on it, you can smile & remember your parents. :)

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Thanks chuck........ I use the canteen of cutlery mum got for 20 years service at ICI every day! I always think of them! It is 19 years since Dad died and 10 since mum died.....I have their 2 ercol armchairs and often look at them and discuss any worries or thoughts I have......no sadness, just pride and love!

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I don't have any magic green silver cleaning recipes I'm afraid, Denise. They're not suitable for silver plate and I'd hate you to ruin them trying something out which wasn't any good.


I have a lot of things that belonged to my beloved Grandma in my kitchen and use them every day as she would have done. Everytime I pick something up that was hers reminds me of her and I wouldn't have any of them shut away in cupboards. It's nice to have that link with them.

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Just seen this and copied it for you!


If you have a small job, the best silver polish is white tooth paste. Dab some on your finger, and rub into the tarnish. For bigger pieces, use baking soda and a clean, damp sponge. Make a paste of baking soda and water. Scoop the paste onto the sponge, and rub the paste into the silver. Rinse with hot water and polish dry with a soft, clean cloth. For badly tarnished silver, leave the baking soda paste on the silver for an hour or so, before cleaning off with the help of the sponge and hot water.



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Did they meet whilst working at ICI?


Yes they did Sheila. Mum was a secretary and Dad was a Training Officer. Mum was just recovering from a nervous breakdown , a direct result of a terrible first marriage to my natural father - a drunk, a cheat and a nasty piece of work! Mum met Jack (Dad) when I was about 5. I met him at the Staff parites and he came to visit when I was 7. He fixed electric lights into my doll's house. Eventually they married, when I was 15. He was Uncle Jack, to me, but he was like a Dad. One day it just came out.I called him Dad. He smiled and gave me a hug.what I didn't know is just after he went into their bedroom and wept! After university my first teaching job was in Nottingham where I was to stay until 1986 when Dad died so suddenly....he was behind the wheel of his car on the moor road from Whitby. I came home to look after mum...then I met hubby & married. Mum thought the world of Jon my hubby. She sied in her sleep about 10 years ago. I hope I was a good daughter. I learned so much from both of them. Dxx

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:) Oh Denise, thank you so much for sharing that story with us. We never stop missing our loved ones, do we? But they live on in our hearts, and also, I believe, in how we live our lives. I'm sure they were very proud of you and that you were the good daughter they deserved.

Glad the polish worked, that's marvellous. 8)

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Aww, what a moving story. glad they came up nicely for you :D , really hope you enjoy them. My grandma left me and my mum loads of really intricate embroiderys, done on handkerchiefs and stuff-they're so beautiful and lovely reminders of what she loved to do. Remember not to overpolish your silver though-you probably won't, i know, but it's a real shame when stamps/hallmarks are buffed out of silver from polishing too much. I've worked in an antique shop for 4 years (started when i was 13!) you see some nice old pieces, but with some you can't make out any of the stamps telling you its history as they have been polished out, which is a shame.

Katie xx

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Your story reminded me of a poem my Mum gave me when my Grandad died. He was fantastic man, and I miss him dearly.


You may already know the poem. I think it reminds us to remember all the good times and not to forget the little things that we love about each other.


Good luck with the silver, and I hope you get lots of joy from using it.



Death is nothing at all,

I have only slipped away

into the next room.


I am I,

and you are you;

whatever we were to each other,

that, we still are.


Call me by my old familiar name,

speak to me in the easy way

which you always used,

put no difference in your tone,

wear no forced air

of solemnity or sorrow.


Laugh as we always laughed

at the little jokes we shared together.

Let my name ever be

the household word that it always was.

Let it be spoken without effect,

without the trace of a shadow on it.


Life means all

that it ever meant.

It is the same as it ever was.

There is unbroken continuity.


Why should I be out of mind

because I am out of sight?


I am waiting for you,

for an interval,

somewhere very near,

just around the corner.


All is well.

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Well here it is!

As you can see it's quite something!


Dad cleaned it every week!!!


Thanks for the poem Gina...yes I knw it, very very true.

When Dad was at primary school the teacher would make the class sing a song..in a circle, one at a time! dad was mortified as he was very shy.so he recited a poem.

Meg Merrilees.

By Keats, John .



Old Meg she was a Gypsy,

And lived upon the Moors:

Her bed it was the brown heath turf,

And her house was out of doors.


Her apples were swart blackberries,

Her currants pods o' broom;

Her wine was dew of the wild white rose,

Her book a churchyard tomb.


Her Brothers were the craggy hills,

Her Sisters larchen trees -

Alone with her great family

She lived as she did please.


No breakfast had she many a morn,

No dinner many a noon,

And 'stead of supper she would stare

Full hard against the Moon.


But every morn of woodbine fresh

She made her garlanding,

And every night the dark glen Yew

She wove, and she would sing.


And with her fingers, old and brown,

She plaited Mats o' Rushes,

And gave them to the Cottagers

She met among the Bushes.


Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen,

And tall as Amazon:

An old red blanket cloak she wore;

A chip-hat had she on.

God rest her aged bones somewhere -

She died full long agone!



He remembered this all his life and wa his party piece.

One father's day I wrote a poem for him....Old Jack he was a woolly back(which is what you are called if you ive on the North Yorkshire Moors) It was just him really.......brought up to hunt rabbits with his catapult etc etc...He loved the poem and I wish I could have read it at his funeral, but i would have cracked up. I will have to see if I can remember it!

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I know this is wildly off topic, but those poems are so lovely I am inspired to share my favourite poem - it's by A E Housman


Loveliest of trees, the cherry now

Is hung with bloom along the bough,

And stands about the woodland ride

Wearing white for Eastertide.


Now, of my threescore years and ten,

Twenty will not come again,

and take from seventy springs a score,

It only leaves me fifty more.


And since to look at things in bloom

Fifty springs are little room,

About the woodlands I will go

To see the cherry hung with snow.


Any other favourite poems out there?

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