A little good, a little …

Apocalyptica gazed at her dotty old auntie, the Widow Dressing. On the one hand, she’d had a good day; on the other, it had sucked rotten eggs out loud in the … well, not dark, since it was sunshiny, but somewhere.

Auntie Widder had put together a medicine cabinet all by herself, and everything actually went together reasonably well. Then she’d spent about three hours cutting up cardboard that she was sure the city trash folks, who were often nice enough but equally often pretty shady, sold on the black market because of the loose magic cardboard picked up so easily at her house, bein’ all absorbent and all. She’d even managed to get all of it in what they called the “recycle bin,” which name convinced her all the more that she was right about who got the money, since that was the only thing that was constantly recycled in Ankh-Morpork.

The nice delivery person had dropped off a new lamp to replace the one she’d returned because the switch broke (cheap Klatchian work, she sniffed, but a lot less dear than local things and the Widder had to be careful about such things), and she’d put that together without trouble.

After that, Auntie Widder had worked up the nerve to hang the medicine cabinet, which involved finding things that would make a stable 15” stack on top of the terlet tank. She measured, she leveled, she drilled the holes and hammered in the drywall expander wossnames, she held the cabinet in place, she felt around ‘til she found the first hole, she screwed in the screw. She did the same thing on the other side.

And then discovered she’d missed the plastic jobbie entirely, so fixing that was going to be a much more involved job than she’d expected.

Somehow retaining a sense of optimism at this point, she decided to hang the terlet paper hanger, which was just one straight pole that she intended to mount on a tiny stretch of wall directly across from the terlet for easy reaching. And she discovered, again after putting the plastic thingies in, that the mounting plate would fit the pole only one way, and that way was upside down from what she wanted.

Apocalyptica put on the kettle and made her auntie a nice cuppa and made some soothing sounds. “We can fix this, Auntie,” she promised. “Not to worry! I’m sure we can come up with a solution.”

Widow Dressing glared at her niece. “I doubt that verra verra much,” she grumbled. “I’m just hopeless. Even if we can get the mounting plate in the right spot, that stinkin’ set screw that tightens the pole against the plate is gonna be almost impossible to tighten.”

“Never you mind,” Apocalyptica soothed, knowing that Auntie had four other Things that required hanging on walls or doors in similar fashion, and Auntie was not happy about that. Or her performance, given that she’d never had so much trouble with such things before. “We’ll figger it out, even if we hafta glue everything.”

Here’s the medicine cabinet.
Here’s the pile of cardboard pre-slicing (truly, I could hardly get around it, and there was half again as much in the garage that also got cut up).
And after cutting (I actually got all of it in the bin! All of it!)
And the new light, proving that it works.


Posted by wordsmith

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