I'm forced to get another set of steps instead of going up that stupid ladder. A dozen times today just to wash the curtains, well it has been mmm...mumble...mumble...two years since I had them down. They're 30 years old and fragile, too much washing takes away the holding power.
The operating procedure is to mark where the holes have appeared then cut that whole width out and pray that the upteen metres left don't shred in the washing machine. I was lucky, one tear and a small patch of shreddy bits that got a lace flower glued on to hold it all together. I think maybe another 12 months should see them out.
The thing was, the ladder. It's now making me very nervous to go higher than a foot off the ground. My knees are shouting abuse at me. Before the ladder, I had to move two tvs and a cupboard. My back is joining in with the knees. So, it's off to Bunnings for a two-step step and they cost $30 and I need an outside ladder as well, $60. I sat down and counted the ladder fund of 5c and 10c pieces, $13, running a bit short there. The Harry Potter fund has $21, not touching that.
The running away from home fund which I counted first after this morning's vicious, vitriolic, bitching Mother phone call, has zero. $15 in the Avon teapot but I really need that mascara, not touching that.
I think I'll steal it from Mother. I've just found that four of the Royal Albert 'Country Roses' mugs have disappeared from the glass Armoire, given to someone more deserving than I apparently. I bought those for her, they're mine, damn it and they were $50 each, way back then. I must have been flush because I bought six and I must have liked her or I'd have kept them. So I'll just be borrowing against my expectations.