Somewhere in the back of the wardrobe was the shoe box. Glynis tried to point the lampshade a little more to the left with her chin, whilst rooting with her other hand. As she stretched a bit further on tip toe, lifting one foot up just that tiny bit more, the laundry bin on which she was balancing finally decided that it wasn’t cut out for helping people to be taller, and gave up.
Glynis toppled sideways still holding the lamp base. The shade made a quick attempt at saving itself and clung on to the shoulder of her best brown cardi which was sat minding its own business on its hanger, on the rail.
‘Balls’ She muttered as she picked her self up, now slightly temporarily blinded by the sudden close proximity to the naked 60 watt bulb. She stood the laundry bin back up and, returning the escaped tights and her best blue dress to its contents, she made a mental note to go on a hunt for the kitchen scissors and trim the spikey bits of wicker that were now poking out of a scrumpled corner. On her way out of the bedroom, she grabbed at the rogue lampshade, pulling it free of her best cardi and took it with her down stairs, unaware of the trail of unravelling brown-ness she was leaving behind.
Balancing the lampshade precariously on top of the other ‘to-do’ items she had accumulated around the kitchen sides, she decided that she was getting peckish.
For lunch, she had treated herself to a nice piece of liver from Liddle’s that morning,
‘Bugger it.’ She announced to Mr Gremwold as she mooched through the freezer draw for the peas, “Lets push the boat out,” She took next Wednesday’s bacon, and a frozen jam Roly Poly out of the freezer and dumped them on the draining board. Mr Gremwold purred as he jumped and landed lightly on the kitchen side, rubbing his head on her elbow.
“Get out of it you daft old bugger.” She half heartedly swatted at Mr Gremwold, cutting the corner off a piece of liver and giving it to him. She turned the dial and ‘zapped’ the bacon in the microwave till it looked less frozen, (she couldn’t see how long it was on for as her glasses were still at the library but she figured it had been about 73 seconds give or take) stuck it under the grill with the liver, and sloshed some water out of the kettle onto the peas before putting them on the hob.
She settled herself on the bar stool at the counter and got caught up in the goings on of the world according to Woman’s Own. Apparently there was a man who used to be a woman wanting to become a woman again but his girlfriend was sleeping with his mum so he wasn’t sure if he should go on the Atkins diet or wax instead of shave. Mystic Meg said that Glynis was going to eat fish on Thursday and have luck linked with a red door and the letter K, and a free make-up bag that doubled as a diary.
Unfortunately the make-up bag was a no go’er as the Woman’s Own was on loan from the library, (Glynis decided that she would offer the librarian a pound for it and see if she couldn’t talk her round as she could put that away for Eileen for Christmas) Someone had already done the cross word.
As the peas threatened to boil over Glynis moved them onto the ironing board and then searched the cupboard under the sink for Mr Gremwolds favorite pink and gold saucer. She couldn't remember the last time they'd had liver and bacon on a Monday. Life was good.