Shelves and family history
When I was a wee lad my granfather lived with us. One afternoon I was summoned to his study to find the old feller supporting a row of shelves that he had intercepted on the way to the ground. Much was the effort required to rescue him, but the lesson was not learnt by me.

Several years later and the ex-Mrs Steve has taken master Steve to visit her parents, leaving me with instructions to put up some shelves for my cd collection before her return. This was all well and good but my own plans for the weekend had involved spending some time with a rather nice young lady of my recent acquaintance. Thus it was that I rose at the ungodly hour of 6am on the Sunday to set forth on the shelf issue. We shall ignore the clear antisocial elements involved in putting shelves up on a parti-wall in a council flat at 7am on a sunday and just say that I got the bastards up after a lot of swearing and exciting activity with the powerdrill. By 9 o'clock I was free to perform my acts of adulterous badness.
By lunchtime I was kicking back on the sofa with my ladyfriend and having a fine time when k-erash, down come the shelves, in an exciting domino style. Kinda put the dampner on any other activity and at that point I finally learnt that lesson.
I've never attempted shelves since then...
(Mr Steve is jobless and fancyfree!, Mon 7 Apr 2008, 20:06, 1 reply)

I hope that lesson stuck with you!
Next time you might want to put anchors in the wall to screw into when you are hanging shelves so the weight won't pull them out of the wall.
( flirting with badgers What? It sounded good at the time., Tue 8 Apr 2008, 1:04, closed)