I have one set of keys. Car, remote car starter, house and mailbox on two key chains hooked together.  That’s it. I like to hang them up at the door so I will remember to never leave home without them.

All the rest of the keys and other hanging things belong to W. Except for my spare set of car keys, but he uses them and I never do, so they don’t count as being mine.

This is what our mess of keys looked like before I got all ambitious this weekend and made new key holders.

The bottom board is something I put together years ago when I first started painting. It is made from a drawer front, weighs a ton, and was hung up on one center nail. If you didn’t hang your keys just right it went off-balance and either hung crookedly or fell off the wall. Once it went down the basement steps. Funny how you put up with annoying things for a ridiculously long time and then one day just decide to do something about them.

My daughter has offered to paint our house interior, and although I was contemplating updating the guest room/library first, now I think we should start with the back door entrance.  Taking these three junky things off the wall was a start.  Putting up NEW junky things will probably get me in trouble.

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W thinks it’s funny that there are so many hooks.  So I asked him to identify all the important hanging things we’ve been looking at every day for a dog’s age if not longer.  We have handcuff keys!  No handcuffs anywhere, but we are prepared if they suddenly turn up.  He used to be a wildlife enforcement officer, in case you’re thinking the handcuff thing might have a slightly more kinky explanation.  There are several key chains with no keys on them, keys we believe might be for one of the filing cabinets, some which could be for padlocks, and several about which we do not have a flying clue.

One of these key holders will go in our garage sale, probably with miscellaneous mystery keys included. I only did the second one because the first one didn’t have room for everything.  Keys are like plastic containers with no lids, or lids that don’t fit on anything.  The day after you throw them out you discover you need them for something.

So they get to hang there for a while and I will tackle another junk corner somewhere else. In other exciting news, our dishwasher door has a broken spring and falls like a lead weight if we let it go, so we went searching for the appliance book to see if parts are still available for it and threw out a dozen booklets for things we no longer have.  The dishwasher is 18 years old!  Today is my son’s birthday and he is 40!  Reverse those two statements in order of importance.

My point is, what is the point?  Okay, I admit I don’t really have a point today.  Except maybe to advise you to take stock of all your keys.  Make the mystery ones into a decorative wall hanging.  Give your grown children something to roll their eyes at.  Then if anyone wants to know how you spent your weekend you can make them sorry they asked.

Can’t Leave Home Without…..

When I leave home I cart off with me all the usual stuff – handbag, cell phone, car keys, wrist watch, water bottle, tissues, glasses, sunglasses, drivers license, make up, hand lotion, a lot of lip gloss, five pens and about a hundred and ten plastic cards. And still I feel like I’ve forgotten something.

My grandma used to drive us crazy running around at the last minute to water all her house plants. There were a lot of them and the wait was therefore long. I caught myself doing that once, right before leaving for the airport. I rationalized that since I was going away for a couple of weeks and not just a couple of hours that I was not being crazy like grandma. But after that I got rid of all my house plants, just in case.

I’d like to say I never leave home without my lists, but that would be a blatant lie. If I do find one after much scrounging around in pockets and purse, it is very likely to be something I scribbled to myself last week and I can’t remember if I got everything on it or not. And this would explain why there are three jars of peanut butter in my cupboard and no toilet paper in the bathroom. However, if I suddenly develop chapped lips on my outing, I certainly have that covered.

So what might happen if I forget something? Who knows? Life as I know it would come to an abrupt end, or, a more likely scenario, I’d simply not remember what it was I forgot.

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