IT TASKS ME

Most unexpectedly overcomplicated task of the weekend came, perhaps unsurprisingly, courtesy of IKEA. This was the construction and putting into position of the bathroom cabinet bought with such hopefulness many moons ago and which had then lurked unloved and, perhaps more importantly, unconstructed in its box ever since.

Still it's moment had finally come and we set unenthusiastically about the task on Saturday afternoon with hope in our hearts and, the suggested requirements of a pencil, a screwdriver and a spirit level in hand, for a while at least, right up until picture number 10 in fact, things all went rather swimmingly, and we were beginning to feel a slightly more positive than usual vibe, with the sides and back panel all going together rather easily, and even the door brackets were in place when we hit a slight snag.

This was the point at which it had to be attached to the wall.

And not just any old wall, oh no, but the beautifully smooth stud wall which I’d dutifully painted to a smooth eggshell finish only a couple of weeks earlier, the shimmering plasterwork for which I’d paid my builder a small fortune to do way back in the late summer of oh-thirteen…

Nevertheless, after sending up a prayer to whatever household decorating gods might have been up there not watching the football, and having retrieved most of the rest of the not-suggested-as being-required-at-all contents my tool kit from the toolbox, I girded up such pitiful loins as I can still find these days, and, having used the suggested pencil to mark out the wall, attacked it with a power drill.

So far, so adequate.

I then applied the first of the plasterboard mounting bolts to the hole. You know the gizmos… You screw them up tightly and, by a strange scissor action, the metal gubbins around the thread is pulled back upon itself and creates a kind of wide metallic brace which makes a much stronger attachment to the wall than just a screw into some plasterboard – or some of that “stick anything” glue in a can – might and phase three could begin.

Only.

Well, they didn’t work. For some reason the thread kept on going around and around and there was precious little evidence of anything tightening inside the hole, if you’ll pardon my French. Closer examination of the packaging revealed that it would not support an object of more than 12mm thickness and, as we had only discovered after opening up our IKEA parcel and starting to build it, the spacers and the brackets and the thickness of the cabinet back itself added up to slightly more than this.

We paused, looked at it, and went off to watch “Columbo”…

Sunday came along and our damned efficient triple-shopping salvo ended at B&Q and larger, sturdier bolts were purchased and, after a visit to see the Beloved’s mother for  a Mothering Sunday coffee and cake visit, we got home and returned to the task in hand.

Sadly, removing the bracket attempt from yesterday left the wall too weak at that point for us to proceed, and so new, loftier holes were drilled and vast amounts of Polyfilla was applied to those old holes I’d made.

(Madam… Pur-leeese…!)

The newer, chunkier bolts however, also caused a few problems, in that instead of firmly holding the bolt in place as you tightened the screw to make the support, the little grippy things would grind away at the plaster and just form another great big unsupportive chasm which would then require another application of Polyfilla and we were on the brink of giving up when a sudden, unexpected Plan “C” appeared out of the blue.

I was looking through my toolbox (Ooh, Matron!) for something that might hold the shaft in position as I was attempting my screwing (Now this is getting ridiculous…) and I found some older, flimsier-looking plasterboard mounting bolts from some other, long-forgotten project. They claimed to be made by “Rawlplug” and that they were both “Heavy-Duty” and could support fixtures up to 15mm wide which, I thought, might just be enough.

More holes were drilled and the spinning crumbling effect of the “B&Q” own brand product did not occur with the “Rawlplug” versions for some inexplicable reason and, within the hour, the cabinet was attached to the wall with its door fitted, its shelves in place and everyone in the house feeling completely satisfied, not least because I had got through an entire IKEA build without having a stroppy old temper tantrum.

So now I just wait for the tell-tale disturbing noises emerging from the bathroom that tell me that the entire thing has collapsed but, so far, (Ahem… touch wood) it has remained in place and there hasn’t been a disaster of some kind.

It’s early days, I know, but I think that it’s a pretty good sign.

Yes madam, it’s still up!

(Oh, please yourselves…)