The Good Life

 Read more Oily Rag articles by Frank and Muriel Newman 

This week we are paying an oily rag tribute to Richard Briers, who passed away recently, aged 79. Many oily raggers will know him better as Tom Good from the Good Life, the comic TV programme where he and his stage wife, Barbara, freed themselves from the shackles of employment to plunge head-first into a subsistence lifestyle – which in their case happened to be on your typical ¼ acre section in a well-to-do suburb. The transformation was of course frowned upon by their neighbourhood, and in particular their neighbours, Marg and Jerry (the latter being Tom's former boss). In contrast to Tom and Barbara, Marg and Jerry were your typical well-to-do, plum-in-your-mouth types who were not at all inclined towards a frugal lifestyle. They of course, took a dim view of their neighbour's change in lifestyle. It was a hugely popular series, and the four main characters played their roles incredibly well.

While the Good Life was filmed some time ago, the repeats are still very funny and they continue to encapsulate the very essence of frugality and the one essential element that those living of the smell of an oily rag must have – a sense of humour. The one thing we can expect when adopting a penny-pinching approach is the unexpected. Sometimes, frequently even, things just do not go as we expect. Here's a real-life example.

Dad had one of his bright ideas. The idea wasn't original, but it was for Dad – he didn't have bright ideas very often! Off to the local library he went. Back he came with an Aunt Daisy soap-making recipe. As proud as a peacock at a garden party, he said he was going to show us how to make soap, and in the process show us how clever he was.

Off to the kitchen he went. That was strange enough in itself – to see Dad clanging pots and pans was a real sight. We peeped through the outside window. Dad pretended not to notice us.

Into one of Mum's biggest pots he put some rendered animal fat he had collected from home kills. Before too long the fat was at a boil. Things appeared to be going quite well, and judging by the smirk on Dad's face we could tell he thought he had it sussed – that is until he added caustic soda and Lux flakes to the broth. The boiling solution immediately expanded in size and frothed up and up and over the pot. "Bloody hell," said Dad. We crept lower behind the windowsill.

Unfortunately for Dad the frothing solution kept growing; onto the stove it spilled, the molten solution flowing along the bench, into some drawers, and onto the floor.

"Bloody hell!" said Dad again, but this time we could tell he really meant it. Us kids looked at each other, realising it was one of those situations – being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Right at this moment Dad panicked. He grabbed the overflowing pot and took the shortest route to the nearest exit, crashing over and through furniture in the process. As he burst through an open door he heaved the still foaming pot onto the front lawn. It is fair to say that we were keeping a low profile.

Back into the house Dad stormed. "That bloody Aunt Daisy!" he said as he disappeared back into the kitchen. We beat a hasty retreat to a neighbour's place. It was some hours later before we dared go near the house again. By then things had returned to their normal state – at least as normal as things could be. No one ever said anything about Dad's soap making idea, and Dad never tried to make soap again.

For the record here is the Aunt Daisy soap-making recipe: 5 lb. clean fat; 1 tin caustic soda; 1 lb. resin; 1 small packet soap-flakes; and 30 cups of water. Boil it all in a kerosene tin. When nearly boiling watch carefully, and when it just comes to the boil, take it off the fire and put it outside. Stir often while cooling.

Although Richard Briers may have passed on, at least we oily raggers can be assured there will be many more repeat screenings of the Good Life on TV.

Do you have a favourite money-saving tip you would like to share with others? If so, please send your ideas to us at www.oilyrag.co.nz or write to Living off the Smell of an Oily Rag, PO Box 984, Whangarei.

* Frank and Muriel Newman are the authors of Living off the Smell of an Oily Rag in NZ. Readers can submit their oily rag tips on-line at www.oilyrag.co.nz. The book is available from bookstores and online at www.oilyrag.co.nz.