Not Day 1 – Why buy one, when a hundred will do? . . .

We live in a western world of surplus, don’t we? The economics of scale have taken over. Our homes, garages and lofts operating as unwitting extensions to the mammoth warehouse monsters that lie in wait. Ever eager to respond to the billions of constant cuckoo clicks. 

Gone are the days (almost) when buying just one of an item was the norm and not the rarity. I have a garage that is stocked with an excess of virtually every sort of screw, nail and washer – to name but a few. The result of the likes of B&Q and Homebase pre-packaging all and sundry in 5s, or 10s or 50s. Plastic tubs, glass jars and packets overflow cupboard shelves, making it practically impossible to either know what’s actually there, or even find it. (that usually happens after purchasing a duplicate!) I’m unable to rid myself of any of this clutter for fear that one day, one might just ‘come in handy’!

Two days before blast off, Castles in Christchurch, one of the last ironmongery bastions to sell by ‘each’, were destined to come to my rescue. A replacement spring washer of a certain thickness and diameter was required to enable correct fitting of one of Scoot’s wing mirrors. Not on the chez moi holdings list. I decided not to add to my massive melange. They’ve never failed mankind – yet. Their stock of thingamajigs estimated by all and sundry to outnumber all of the known stars in the milky way. But alas. Their almost infinite number of spring washers came up one short! My jaw hit the ground. So, less than twenty fours hours later, I took delivery of one hundred of the same, courtesy of Mr Amazon. The jaw of the man, who served me at Castles, also dropped, when later that day, I dropped off a freebie of 99 spring washers.

On the subject of surplus, I must have turned into a right prima donna since our last trip. The plastic bracket that holds the hanging bar in my 15″ wide bedside cupboard, split, under the sheer weight it was supporting apparently. Luckily, Mrs S spotted all my nicely ironed shirts and T-shirts piled in a mess, the day before  setting off. “Why on earth are you taking so many tops? Half of them are ancient. You’re taking n+1(to save a red face) too many” . . . “Well, you never know, they might come in handy”.