The Lair has a door. The door has a lock. I don’t typically lock my doors, but the Lair spends a lot of time just sitting out there all by itself and it does contain things I’d rather people not steal, like Landlady’s cordless tools and my favorite carbine. So after some weeks of leaving the key in the lock so that Claire could shelter there during her long dog walks, on Friday I took the key out of the lock and put it on a key ring. This marked the first time in several years I’ve carried a key.
What could go wrong?
Yesterday M and I were working on the footers for his dome’s retaining wall. We’re talking about a wall that needs to retain a truly monumental amount of dirt: I’m fairly certain there are major buildings out there with less substantial foundations. Since we’ve got three building projects going on here, any tool you need is almost sure to be somewhere else. He needed something from the Lair, and I tossed him the key ring. A little later he needed something else from the Lair, and I tossed the ring to him again.
He held it up and said, “You do recognize the irony of this, right?”
“All too well, my friend. All too well.”
He decided to go back to the city yesterday, so he’d have a day when he wasn’t working or driving long distances. Made sense to me.
Of course he went back with my key ring in his pocket.
I’ve been busy this morning with domestic chores: Emptying the black water tank, filling water bottles, burning a bunch of boxes and other trash left over from Claire’s departure, and another project I’ll post about later if it turns out well. So I haven’t been to the Lair this morning, but I’m gonna go ahead and assume I’m locked out and have been since the VERY DAY AFTER I STARTED LOCKING THE DOOR. I’ll probably have to cut out a window screen to get in; I know the windows aren’t locked.
Irony, hell. That’s karma.
ETA: I just got a call from M, who says he did not take my key with him but left it at his dome and forgot to tell me. Lesson learned. I’ve got another key for the Lair – which in my vast foresight I left inside the Lair – and I’ll find an appropriate hiding place for it. I’ve totally lost all the ingrained habits a city-dweller has about keys, and can expect this little drama to play itself out a dozen times until in disgust I just stop locking the damned door.
Heh. Keys are a pain. Of course, combination locks are good – except once you get over about 55, your eyes can’t see the xxx numbers without your glasses – and decent light. I’d rather have keys. That means you have to take steps to ensure you don’t get locked out. I’d think that in your area, some of those cutesy fake rocks with a hollowed out center might be a worthwhile investment. Over the door jamb is kind of obvious, but there ought to be some kind of a ledge somewhere that you can use to meet the need. Oh yeah…and get duplicate keys that you keep in some place inside until you need _more_ duplicate keys. Because you _will_ need them. Maybe not until next year or the year after that – but someday – you’ll need them! We have a key bag in a dresser. Some keys have been there for so long we have no idea what locks they were used for – but since my husband has a tendency to lock his keys in the car or other awkward places, the extra key keybag has saved us time and gas on more than one occasion. He tends to hit the “lock” button on his car automatically.
These guys have some fun (but practical) ideas…
http://www.thehomesecuritysuperstore.com/Key-Hiders-GAW-c=29
The secret lair on the lake in the K-town ‘burbs was never locked the whole time I lived there. I never even had a key…
I miss that, sometimes.