We used to have a mirror hanging over our mantle. It’s quite big and heavy. Here it is.


I didn’t get the whole thing in the picture because I didn’t want to get my messy desk in the picture too.

The mirror used to make a cracking noise every once in a while. The other day we took it off the wall to find out what was going on with it. The mirror was hanging on a bent nail that was pointing down. It was getting ready to jump off the wall and give us 7 years bad luck any day now. We don’t need any more bad luck  so we decided to try to fix this problem.

So we went to Home Base (it’s like Lowes) to get some anchors to put in the wall and hang this mirror up properly.

homebassStores like this are so confusing to me. It took forever to find what we were looking for. Then we stood in the aisle for a couple more forevers discussing which anchors we should get, red, green, yellow, metal…so many colors,  so many choices. Finally, a nice man from Yorkshire  who had experience in this kind of thing and was listening in to our conversation suggested the metal anchors so that ‘s what we bought.

We came home and my husband was determined to get that mirror up today. He’s really been missing looking at himself in it a million times a day. Thanks to his handy work we now have a hole in the wall that looks like this…

wall-hole…and the mirror is still on the floor.

I can’t really blame my husband. I was complicit in the mirror hanging activities.  I helped…I got him the chair to stand on… Actually I didn’t. He got that…I got him the hammer…Wait. We don’t have a hammer…I watched carefully and gave useful advice while he tried to put the anchor in the wall. It turns out that the wall isn’t plaster board like we originally thought. Behind the plaster board is  something gritty and hard and beigh like the wall of a cave.

Anyway, now we’ll have to fix the hole and figure out some other way to put up this mirror.

Side Note: My husband saved all the grit and dust that fell from the wall when he tried to put the anchor in. He wants to take it to the hardware store with him and ask an employee there if they know what type of material it is. I don’t think they’ll know. He seems to think I’ll be going with him on this trip, but I don’t want to wander into a hardware store with a plastic container of what looks like sand and ask someone what they think it is. That would be even more embarrassing than picking black berries.