I’ve just calculated that there hasn’t been a gouging hole in the wall since that first “forearm” shaped shelf went up in the bathroom. That was my first shelf and a pure disaster. I heard Jeremy remark from the said room. “Oh my God what have you done to the wall?” In fairness it was quite a sight including shelf dangling and swinging off wall. There followed in later days the instruction “don’t touch anything else” and that he’d do it, naturally I pay no heed to no such instruction and hammered and drilled on to victory. I can’t learn anything from people doing things right, I learn more screwing them up.
That first “installation” of unintended holes were necessary and admired. It’s a testament to where I started. This new hallway hole is another man’s hole and doesn’t belong there. I am beyond such holes. I am keen and queen shelver at this point.
Today when I walked to the garden my leg hurt so much that I had no idea what I would do if the gardener who helped me bring water yesterday was not there. Around the bend I spied him. Huge relief. Followed by intrepidation at the thought of how I’d have managed without that help.
There was also another guy there, a bit of a lost soul who’d wandered in. His odour suggested he’d been sleeping rough. It became apparent he was experiencing pretty serious auditory hallucinations, but he found a bucket and began randomly hurling water on various parts of the land. Eventually he ventured near my plot, so I offered him some beans. He was eager, but then when he went to eat one he undertook a dissection on it. Some aspect of the plant disturbed him and he couldn’t eat it. He seemed harmless, but was plagued by noises or voices talking to him and I wanted to ask him about his situation, but decided against it because if he reacted poorly or aggressively I basically could not run away.
The other gardener returned with more water and we agreed I’d leave when he left.
As I hobbled home I tried to imagine how you’d get that young man to access the medical system or services. Who was he? Did he stand up from the breakfast table one day and just walk out from his family, take a bus from some town to the city? Did he stop taking medication? He was so disorientated, he struggled to understand conversation. He appeared hungry yet he couldn’t eat. He was kinda happy in the garden doing a bit of watering, but I am not sure he really knew where he was.
I have had a bit of a calamity with a # 8 anchor and screw. There is a big hole in the wall. However I think a distracting cover with a seashell may take care of it.
Some very excitable bloke in the hardware shop insisted the wall would fall down with my shelving technique. To temper his excitement I decided to upgrade to the #8.
Note to self: do not listen to excitable males.