Writing a shopping list is always helpful, even if you arrive at the shops and the list is still on the kitchen table.
So I was checking the fridge and then the cupboard for what was missing, and found that the top shelf had collapsed. One of those little doofers that plug into the side and the shelf rests on had broken - plastic fatigue, probably.
All the stuff from the shelf had to be rescued, then the search for a replacement doofer began. Surely we had some in the drawer. Well, the kitchen drawers and the garage shelves have been tidied up in recent months, so nothing was where it was expected to be (I had a terrible job finding a trowel the other day when I wanted to re-point the garden path before the frosts, and it turned up in the box of wallpaper-hanging stuff).
Having failed to find a fresh doofer, the only alternative was B&Q's late night opening. Unsure where to start looking, we asked a homely body who knew exactly what we meant - she had some in her own cupboard; unfortunately she was new in the store, and wasn't quite certain where they were. Eventually we located what we wanted, after much comparison of size and shape with the sample we had brought with us and the transparent items in the sealed bag. Much wonderment at some of the other products on sale - why is it that when you want a particular item, and having searched fruitlessly, then bodged up some sort of substitute, then 3 weeks later, B&Q have precisely what would have done the job, which is now not going to be done again. The exact case with our rainwater butts - but I digress.
Home with the doofers, then faced with the problem of removing the snapped-off end of the old one before the new one could be fitted and the shelf restored to its former glory (and how I loathe that cliche).
So then there was all this stuff to put back into the cupboard. Bags of flour bought recently for more adventurous bread-making, little drums of herbs and spices, some sugar, a small bottle of beer - hang on a minute, we've been teetotal for 13 or 14 years, what's this doing in there? But no, DH wants to keep it; perhaps he plans to sell it one day on eB*y to supplement his pension, as it's a special brew of something. Bottles of vinegar - keep the ones I use for dyeing, but the dusty one that smells dreadful can be poured away. A small box with an exotic mix of spices - the best before date is only July this year, so that goes back on the shelf. A large bottle of soy sauce - that'll be OK, a splash gets used regularly every week or two. Hang on, what does that best before date say? June 2000? How did that escape notice when we moved in 2002?
Is there some sort of wormhole in time accessible only from the back of the shelf? What's going on?