Powdered bricks!

I went to George to get some provisions and also to get a few racks that I wanted to put up so I could store some of my little ornaments that my kids gave me when they were small, and also some of the hideous grizzlies I was given by friends and family through the years! I was just too much of a softy to want to hurt anybodies feelings, and felt too sentimental about my kiddies's offerings bought with there hard earned pocket money. But how anybody who knew me for over thirty years could give me African artifacts and huge Turkish copper kettles as presents I can not fathom out, as I had never bought anything like that for myself, but they did, and I was at a stage where I either had to remove them to where they were not conspicious, or get rid of them!
By lunch time the next day I was disgruntled and quite disillusioned! After working out where the best spot was for my rack, I measured out where to drill the holes, and very enthusiastically put the drillpoint to the first black dot, where I expected some resistance as the stones were quite hard, but ten minutes later I knew that there was nothing doing! The drill had gone through the plaster, but refused to go in any further, and as I was by now sweating and calling up to heaven for some help, but not getting any, I had to admit defeat, and look for another likely spot. The opposite inside wall was also earmarked for a rack to store some of my kitchen stuff, so I decided to put that up so long, and then look again for another out of eyeshot spot.
This time the drill went through plaster and bricks like a hot knife through butter, and it wasn't long before I stood proudly in front of four beautiful holes, complete with neccassery plugs. From there on it was easy, and it did not take many hours before the rack was up and screwed in. My poor shoulders were aching, as I had to hold the rack in place and put the screws into the plugged holes, and having no help, that was extremely difficult, but when at last I stood back to enjoy my handiwork, I was a proud woman!
My rack kind of wobbled a wee bit when I put the first canister on, and that thing did slide a bit , but I thought my measuring was out a bit, and hoped that the next object would steady the whole thing. It did, and after stacking all I could on there, I was standing praising the old self for a job well done, when, in front of my unbelieving eyes, the bally rack toppled forward, canisters and bottles of canned fruit and stuff scattering wildly across the floor. Hendrix, who lay next to the kitchen table watching all this with big amber eyes, put his forepaws over his ears as if to say, 'Oh please, please, stop this gedoente' (farce)
I was devestated, and after clearing away the broken glass and picking up the other stuff, I tried to find out what went wrong. The plugs with the screws had completely pulled out of the holes, and when I put my finger into one of the holes, I found that the bricks had deteriated to dust!
So that was that for some extra kitchen storage, and I then went from room to room with a hammer, tapping all the walls to try and find a spot where the bricks were still intact.
The only spot was in the back room which used to be a bedroom that I had in the meantime changed to my sittingroom, and this time I was lucky, as the bricks were still intact, and within no time my rack was on the wall, quite high up, as that was the only stable spot I could find.