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Archive for September 10th, 2014

Kingdom of Keys

Today was going to be an up-and-at-’em early day. Get all the chores that include driving done early. Try and figure out what I am doing with a pocketbook full of keys, of which I only use two. Start restoring work on a table. Finish the inch (2.5) cm left on The Skipper’s Sock. Transfer all the pictures I took yesterday from the camera to a flash drive for my mother and give it to her. All of which would bring me to about dinner time. Cook dinner, clean up the dinner dishes. Cast on the stitches for the front of the Girl’s 1960s sweater even though I haven’t completed my research into lantern sleeves, sewn on pockets or the split neckline. That was the plan.

At 9 am Yarn Rascal came into the work room looking all sad. A face that sad means he ate something he had no business eating. He crawled into my lap, curled into a ball with his tail covering his eyes and has been sleeping ever since. It is now noon. I hate to disturb him when he’s feeling ill like this. So I’ve been moving chores from today’s list to tomorrow’s list getting nothing done while Yarn Rascal sleeps on.

Yesterday I went in search of a pocketbook only to be disappointed. The store I went to had nothing below $149.00. I’ve always shopped there for pocketbooks and found durable ones at reasonable prices. The store used to have a wide selection. Now it carries only 4 different designer brands and every one was marked genuine leather. Genuine leather means to me that some animal had to die in order for this thing to be made. I’m an animal lover. I don’t want to walk around with a genuine leather anything.

Hence no pocketbook. But while taking inventory of my current pocketbook I discovered what can only be described as a kingdom of keys. Some were on little key rings, many were single keys on no rings. Of the 20 or so keys, I absolutely identified 2. I have a vague idea of the locks 3 others might fit. That leaves 15 mysterious keys. Heaven only knows how long they have been floating around the bottom of my pocketbook or why they are there. But I can’t toss them away until I am sure they don’t belong to locks I need to open.

I spread them on the kitchen table–The Skipper thought I was making a mural of keys to frame and put on the wall–to try and wrap my mind around all the things in my life that might have locks on them. Most of them looked like door keys. A few looked as if they might go to hope chest kind of things, and 4 are definitely old and probably from the late 1800s which means they go to things in my great grandfather’s house. Unable to identify them, I did what any crafter would do. I took one of the many glass jars I hoard save and put them in it. I crocheted a quick little lace collar for the jar, then closed the lid. I got one of my antique hang tags, wrote “mystery keys” on it and placed it round the jar. It looks quite at home sitting on my antique secretary’s desk.

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