Thursday, October 27, 2011

The Enigma of the Keys

Is this staring me in the face?
If it is, I'm lost.

As are several more keys.

The day following my lost-and-then-found-in-the-apron key adventure, Melinda (for whom I work) suffered a key disappearance after opening the trunk of her car. Between the car and the kitchen, her keys did their magic act. And no white bunny of fortune to point us in the right direction. We looked:

1) in the car
2) in the street
3) in the garden
4) on the porch
5) under the porch
6) in the kitchen
7) under the kitchen

No luck.
A mystery.
A *poof* of disappearance.

And today, the secret hidden spare also went missing, with the last remaining set of keys inside the house and both Melinda and I outside the house.

No, it wasn't in my apron.
It wasn't in my jacket pocket.
It wasn't anywhere.

It isn't anywhere. And although that's technically impossible, it's what I believe. It is GONE. Whoosh.

The locksmith arrived while we both shivered in the October chill, and told us that he recently went to a job on Norman Street. His first name is Norman. The next street over was the same name as his last name. What are the odds of this? He said he was able to take a photo with both street signs visible. Cool.

Then he waxed philosophical on the value of locksmiths, and said that a previous governor, Gary Locke, enacted a Locksmith Appreciation Day. I asked Norman if that had anything to do with the fact that the governor's last name was, well, Locke.

"Well!" He said. "I hadn't considered that!"

Well indeed.

He also said that, in light of the fact that Melinda's assistant called the locksmith and not Melinda-the-homeowner-herself, he (Norman) could be charged with a felony if this wasn't indeed Melinda's home. A quick show of ID remedied that worry. I mean, what if we were two middle-aged woman burglars sitting out in the cold trying to gain access to someone else's house? Cherish the thought.

But the thought I'm cherishing -- or not -- at the moment, is this ongoing theme of lost keys.

Lost keys.
Entry denied.
The opening of doors.
The opening of new doors.
The reaching for the unreachable.
Entry gained.

It's a cliche, and threatens to smack me in the head, this symbolism. But sometimes synchronicity isn't just synchronicity.


  1. There are no accidents. That's what some people say, but I just don't know.

    Your stories grow increasingly wilder. I wish I lived nearby and you could make something symbolic happen to me. I need a sign.

  2. Elizabeth, it will have something to do with a cake, wherein lies a mightily powerful connection.

    I've been thinking of you and your home-baking business. The health laws here strictly prohibit baking for profit w/o an official kitchen, but damn, I'm itching to get back into the biz. Baking for me is what I imagine religion is for others.

    I might just have to fly something under the wire. Desperate times call for desperate measures, even if only in the guise of a cake.

    I've told my sons that at the moment of my passing, I want a bite of a particular chocolate cake to pass my lips, as well as a sip of Moet & Chandon Champagne. (They know the cake recipe.)

    Meanwhile, keep your eyes open.


  3. You and Melinda are the best reasons I've yet come across for those key rings that bleep when you whistle. May I suggest you buy a 'job lot'.

  4. Perhaps Melinda's keys have run away with mine T. Can't seem to find them at the it key-eloping season?

  5. Found my bicycle basket...sorry, Melinda's weren't there.

  6. I'm still looking for a pocket knife lost about 20 years ago. I know its around here somewhere. Or has it remained in Delaware, near the ice rink?

  7. Losing keys serves to deflate the ego because it takes away the arrogance of the illusion of control. And getting that message is usually timely. All we can do is our best with these things-- get organized, reflect on the Serenity Prayer! good luck to you, Melinda, and that locksmith. sp

  8. Love what sussah sez. And Cro.

    So maybe surgery to fashion a skin flap pocket where keys go? I don't know, my brain is turning to mush at far too early an age!