Monday, April 6, 2009

Bag of Keys

Ten or so years ago, we came into the possession of an antique secretary cabinet. Not just any antique secretary cabinet, but the one that had belonged to my husband's maternal grandfather. The cabinet had been languishing in the abandoned farmhouse across from his uncle's home for twenty years. How we came to possess it is a story in itself, so I'll save that for another time. Once we had the secretary home and cleaned up and situated in the guest bedroom, it was discovered that we didn't have a key for it. I don't remember how that came to be, but without a key, there was no opening any of its doors. The key acted as a knob once it was turned in the lock to the unlocked position. I visited a local antiques shop and was told that furniture of that era was built with one of three standard locks, which could be opened with one of three standard keys. My name was placed on the waiting list for the coveted Bag of Keys. Which turned out to be a large ziploc bag containing dozens of antique keys. Keys both fancy and plain, shiny and dull, and of varying size. I took the bag home, tried keys in the locks on my shut-tight cabinet until I found one that worked and I liked the looks of. I then returned the bag to the store and paid one dollar for the key I had chosen. What a great system! A bag of keys that was sure to contain one that worked for me. The secretary left this house with my soon-to-be ex-husband when he moved out three years ago. The key went with it. I'd like to get on a waiting list for a different bag of keys. A mystical bag of keys that unlocks the unknown and provides answers to the large and small questions of life. Anyone know where it might be?

3 comments:

  1. I don't know where that key is but I'm thinking Ft. Knox would be a good place to go with a magic, mystical sort of key.

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  2. A bag of keys, what a wonderful idea.

    This brings back a memory for me. I locked my keys in my 72 Mustang back in 1992 and called my grandfather for help. He always did things in an oddball going around your tush to get to your other elbow kind of way, but I figured this time he bring a Jimmy. Well, instead he brought a ring that had about 100 keys on it. My eyes bugged out and I was visibly irritated. He assured me that one of those old keys would unlock the door to my car, though it may not work in the ignition. I did not believe him, of course, but he insisted that I try them all. Key after key after key...I was really losing my patience. But sure enough, I turned key number 49 and voila. It's the little things like that that I think about when I remember him.

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  3. What a wonderful memory! Makes you think that maybe the keys to what we want are right there all the time. We just don't possess the patience or wisdom to use them.

    Ed, don't they have a photo of you posted near the entrance to Ft. Knox? You'll never get in unless you have a really great disguise.

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