Stories Collected While Living in France

French la Vie

The Key

House key

 

Yesterday's comments regarding Bicycle Stories, were amazing. One memory after another: Banana seats, training wheels, brakes, skid marks, accidents, while noting where you learned to ride, the color of bike, who taught you and where you fell… I think the average age for learning how to ride amongst us was five. Though I was nearly nine.

Each comment conjures up images, touches memories that are dormant, brings a connection… I learned how to ride a bicycle at my Uncle Phil's and Aunt Sara's old house. My brothers, mother, and cousins, Sheba and FrancaBolla were there too. I remember Uncle Phil telling me what to do as he gave the bicycle a push and away I went. I still can feel the sense of freedom, the wings at my feet and the Weeping Willow branches across my face as I rode under them.

Your comments, your stories, your added notes makes blogging worth it for me, and for many others who read my blog. Gee, look at my brother Mathew, he responded to many of you in the comment section. I think he is a closet blogger and probably has the brocante bug too.

The random winner of the little bicycle is Leigh from New Zealand…. her comment concluded by saying: "…Keep on peddling through the tough times."

 

Keys 2

 

I am giving another old thing away:

1. Because I like you,

2. Because I enjoy your stories,

3. Because the re opening of my online French Brocante shop has me digging and going through every little thing in my cupboards…

and because I have a ton of keys.

 

 

Keys

 

If you would like to have an old key

please leave a comment regarding a story about a house key.

When I first moved away from home, a home that never locked its doors, I often forgot my house key. As I lived with an older woman, one who was OCD, I often waited for her to return to get back into the house. Her OCD could not comprehend how I could be as forgetful as I was. We were polar opposites… I was neat, tidy, and spontaneous to a fault. She was neat and extra tidy to a fault, and spontaneous knew no bone in her body.

 

http://frontiernet.net/~whitfield/Screen%20cat%20door.jpg

One day while waiting for her to return so I could go back into the house, I noticed the cat going in and out of the cat door. As I was in a hurry, and didn't want to look like a ding dong again, a thought occurred to me, "Maybe I could squeeze through that cat door opening? I looked at my hips, and thought why not try.

I was nearly inside when I heard my OCD room-mate pull into the driveway. Quickly, I pushed onward hoping to get inside before she saw me.

She found me, with no key and stuck in her cat door.

Shortly after I moved out… after replacing the cat door that kinda got damaged.

 

_______________________

 

Thank you for all your comments and stories, I appreciated every one of them!

Comments

55 responses to “The Key”

  1. herhimnbryn

    Dear Corey,
    Keys!
    I still have the little key you sent me. Do you remember? It sits with the card you made on a shelf in my studio. Today, I was resting my eyes from creating a mosaic piece called ‘Seek’, it contains a tiny iron key. I glanced up and saw ‘your’ key and smiled. It has become a talisman to me and I treasure it. So, in from my studio and I visit TinC and there…..more keys. Do you think the universe is trying to tell me something?

    Reply
  2. Zosia Polonica

    Oh, Corey, the image of you stuck in that cat door….:-)))) . I hope the OCD room mate smiled at least a tiny smile at that sight. If not I feel sorry for her.

    Reply
  3. Lilly

    My two older sisters shared a bedroom and would sometimes lock me out. I would try to pick the lock with a hairpin. I’m sure they could hear me tinkering away at the lock. To my surprise and joy I once succeeded in opening the door. It had taken a long time. My sisters immediately got up and left the room. So I followed them. All that work to get into a room.that was now empty. I saw my sisters last night. Fifty years later they’re a little.nicer to me!

    Reply
  4. Merisi in Vienna

    The story of my life:
    Can’t find the key! 😉

    Reply
  5. Paulita

    I’m so jealous that you were ever skinny enough to think you could fit through the cat door!
    My very first memory centers around keys. I remember being at my aunt’s house and all the other kids were playing outside. I was too young to be out without a grown up. The grown ups were sitting around the kitchen table in front of the sliding glass door. My aunt wanted to keep me busy, so she gave me a key ring with lots of jangly keys.
    “Go see which doors these fit,” she said.
    So I went down the long hallway where the bedrooms and bathrooms were, and I pushed the button to lock every door and I pulled it closed behind me until I was standing in the hallway of closed doors. Now I was ready to begin trying the keys to see which would open the doors.
    Of course, my aunt had given me an old set of keys that didn’t fit any door. The adults couldn’t believe it when they saw I’d closed and locked all those doors, which didn’t have keys to open them from the outside.
    I still remember that they wouldn’t listen to me, the two-year-old, and my logical reason for closing and locking the doors. How else was I supposed to figure out which key went where?

    Reply
  6. Marena James

    Last Fall I had a dream…I was standing in front of a door of a house. Right next to the front door was a much smaller door. While I looked down on the sidewalk, I spied a skeleton key….I picked it up and immediately knew it was meant for the smaller door. I slipped it into the lock and opened the small door; it was filled with an amazement of jewels, gold coins and money. I closed the door, locked it, put the key in my pocket and planned to come back to retrieve the treasures….then I woke up.
    I’m a single mom; I own a drapery business; I work hard, sometimes it’s feast and sometimes it’s famine, but I so love what I do. Two weeks went by, the dream would fade in and out of my memory. What did it mean?
    During this time, I was working with a new client: an older lady. She was so lively and fun to talk to….I really liked her straight away. The first visit was to measure her windows and pick out her fabrics, styles, etc. I immediately became fascinated when I saw random skeleton keys displayed throughout her home. I didn’t say a word….
    After her blinds, valances and drapes were installed, I had to ask her about the keys. When I ask her, she stopped what she was doing….went over to a sideboard…opened a drawer that was full of skeleton keys…pulled out about eight keys, placed them on the table and said, “you are meant to have one”.
    My key sits on my desk, sometimes on my counter top, in my workroom…..I carry it around and place it so I can see it. It encourages me.
    I truly believe the dream was God’s way of encouraging me. I hold the key to my future and as I continue to work my business, blessings will come. I don’t have to go back and retrieve the treasures inside that small door….the treasures are inside me and everyday I unlock another door.

    Reply
  7. Tamisha

    I love keys. Two years ago we bought a fixer-upper in the city. In one drawer we found a stash of keys, car keys, luggage keys, door keys, skeleton keys. I knew immediately that I wanted to do something with these keys. This is what I came up with:
    http://domusaurearichmond.blogspot.com/2011/06/keys-to-castle.html
    I still have several more. I haven’t decide what to do with the rest of them.

    Reply
  8. jackie

    That is hilarious! You hanging half in/half out of the cat door, lol. My story: I was single and living in a 3rd floor apartment. The landlord lived on the 2nd floor and a single mom with 2 young kids (a boy about 6 and a girl about 8) lived on the first floor. Back then I went running every evening. At the end of my route, and at the top of a steep hill, was an old brick fire station-one of my favorite buildings in the neighborhood. The fire fighters always encouraged me as I struggled up the hill. I got home one night to find that I’d locked myself out. I was tired, sweaty, and the landlord was not home…there no way to get into my apartment.
    I turned around and went back to the fire station…they called the North Main St. station who happened to have a “cherry picker,” one of those giant trucks with a bucket on an “arm” that can swing out above and over the truck. As the little boy on the first floor watched from his perch on the mailbox at the corner, mouth open in awe, as the firefighters came to my apartment, stopped traffic on the street, positioned the cherry picker so one of the fire fighters could climb into my third floor window, walk through my apartment and unlock the door from inside, come down the 3 fights of stairs and walk out the front door. The little boy thought I was very cool. I baked a pie for the fire fighters in thanks. Did I ever lose my keys again? Yup! But never with such a spectacular rescue.

    Reply
  9. Linda H

    Beautiful symbolism. And an encouraging story for all of us!

    Reply
  10. Brenda, Walker, LA, USA

    I can relate with “OCD”, my mom and dad bordered on that!
    My mom always wanted to get up and open the door for us when we came in, so we had to knock. I was 17 before I got a key to our home! My date would bring me to the door and wonder why I had to knock or ring the doorbell. My mom would have a door under the doorknob, because she was scared all the time. I remember getting a key and feeling so “adult”! When I shared that with my two very independent boys, they couldn’t believe I was that old before I could come and go as I pleased! As I look back, I know that was my parents way of caring and loving and protecting us. I am probably just as bad, but in other ways. I still have that key to 4268 St. Gerard Ave, my childhood home I did not leave until I was 20!

    Reply
  11. Candace

    “There is no key to Happiness, the door is always open.” This is one of my favorite quotes so naturally I love and collect old keys. Can’t beat Jackies story about forgetting her key. That made me smile.

    Reply
  12. Sam

    Good luck with the reopening of your online store, I know it will be a huge success. That was a poorly made cat door if it couldn’t handle a few wiggles from a young woman.
    I grew up the youngest of a big clan, and had keys to several homes when I was growing up, even my bachelor brother’s apartment, which had all sorts of fungus growing out of it at all times. I love keys.

    Reply
  13. Rhonda P.

    I’ve got tons of lost keys stories but for now my best memory of keys is from my recent trip to Paris.
    We were at the Marche Aux Puces Flea Market (North Paris) I could hardly breathe I was so excited.
    I saw a huge cafe menu board filled with antique keys. I could not believe the choices, I was in heaven and my friend took a photo of me picking through the keys, as the seller looked on.
    When I purchased them, the older French woman with soft eyes smiled, realized I was American, smiled and said in her sweet broken English, I give you discount. No reason at all but being the romantic I am, I like to believe it’s because she sensed my passion for keys.
    I had my French Key Moment, I call it.

    Reply
  14. Laura McHugh

    Keys open doors, little drawers maybe with some secret hidden inside. They are a small symbol of hope, future, and new. They unlock and unleash possibility. And if you lose them, you can’t start your damned car!

    Reply
  15. marlis

    I love old keys. I wish I had more.. My favorite key story though involves my then little boy. Frank was probably about 3 or 4.. We owned a business that involved having a lot of keys on one key ring. My husbands, I had one, the key to the door in. Our son wanted keys and although he had plastic keys, that is not what he wanted.. So we scrounged around for a key chain for Frank and then looked for keys to fill it. Between my husband and my father in law, they came up with 20 keys. Now that is a lot for a little boy to carry, but carry them he did.
    When last I came upon that bunch of keys (that fit nothing) I couldn’t help but smile remembering how grownup the keys made Frank feel as he toddled behind his daddy at work.. thanks for the memories..

    Reply
  16. christine

    haha – the cat door! I don’t have anything memorable like that I just remember the day my mother gave me my own key to our house. I was about 10 and I wore it on a chain around my neck. During the day I could feel it between my shirt and tshirt (in those days kids wore t shirts underneath their clothes) I rarely had to use it because my Mom was always home. I kept that key for years after I moved out of the house because I liked how it made my hands smell when I held it…..

    Reply
  17. Marie-Noëlle

    You always surprise me !!! Amazing story !!!
    I have a very good (and very recent!)key story, but it was a CAR key !!!
    I don’t complain, anyway … as I wouldn’t like to live this over again for another key !
    PS- I’d like to know what OCD means … Thank you !

    Reply
  18. georgie

    I saw a story about some men who bought an old house. The original owner had it built for his bride around 1910. She had no idea he was doing this. A relative of the old owners came by with a little antique jewelry box-brooch size. Inside was the original front door key. The owner had given his bride the box with the key a few minutes after she first saw the house. The current owners found lots of little treasures in the house but the box and key were the most treasured.

    Reply
  19. Tamra/The Gilded Barn

    On my key ring is a brass tag about 1″x1 1/2″ with three numbers on it. It’s the key from our hotel room the night we got married. My husband, ever the romantic, took the key home and cut the “key” part off and gave it to me to put on my key ring.
    At first I thought it was a little silly, but over the years I’ve had many people ask what it is and I love telling where it came from and the reaction I get from each one. This September will be 28 years and I’m happy to say I’ve never lost my keys.

    Reply
  20. Cathy J.

    No key stories, but my husband surprised me one day by sticking his hand through the doggie day and unlocking the door that goes into the house. I started locking the dead bolt at night after seeing that. It would have been pretty funny to see him stuck in the doggie door though! Thanks again for my AM chuckle!

    Reply
  21. Paula S In New Mexico

    For some strange reason I always end up with various keys that I have no idea what they lock………but Corey you and your blog have the key to my blogging heart, that is for sure !!!

    Reply
  22. Sharon Penney-Morrison

    In my middle 20’s we visited a place in Portland Oregon called the Grotto. It was an absolutely beautiful garden that covered many acres. In one area there was a grotto…with the Virgin Mary holding baby Jesus. They had made an alter out of big rocks and boulders and she stood under a huge rock arch enclosure. They had candle holders and you could light a candle for prayer.
    In the gift shop there were brass keys with a picture of the grotto carved in the top. On the back was carved an icon of baby Jesus in a robe. It is still on my key ring today after 43 years. The brass hole is very thin now, and the carvings are very worn and rounded from touch. I will carry it forever.

    Reply
  23. Rosemary

    We have been collecting old keys as we have an antique cabinet with a curved glass front that has a lock. In a recent move, we locked the cabinet and packed the key, now we cannot find it. So we’re collecting antique keys in hopes of finding one that can open this old cabinet!

    Reply
  24. christine

    That’s a funny story. I too collect keys. I especially like old keys and little keys I still have the key to our back door of our 100 year old house.

    Reply
  25. Christina

    What fun stories to read from everyone!
    I own one huge iron skeleton key.
    It is my “big” treasure.
    What lock it opened… no idea. But in my dreams it opens some heavy wooden doors to a very special place.
    Actually, when I was maybe 10ish we visited some friends of my parents and their apartment with soaring ceilings and big wooden doors used only skeleton keys.
    I don’t think one could loose such keys.
    Another “treasured” key is my first car key. I had a white VW golf. One winter day it was so cold it froze my cars tank door shut. So I used the first thing in my hands to pry it open… my treasured first car key.
    It bent.
    Was I ever glad that my dad chose this moment to fill his car as well… and carried the spare he always had on his keyring.
    Silly me. love Dad.

    Reply
  26. joodie

    Corey, you whack-job! trying to crawl through a cat-door ……. seriously?
    on the subject of keys:
    you are a KEY to my daily joy, reading your blog
    you’re like my neighbor, except you and Yann and Annie live clear across the pond from me!

    Reply
  27. Lauren

    i dont have any cool key stories, yours made me laugh though!! maybe just maybe, i’ll win the random drawing this time! thanks for all the fun times reading your blog 🙂

    Reply
  28. McKenna

    Ive always been amazed by keys. How they could open almost anything with just the right key. Keys were always so magical to me. I used to make up little stories about what each key would unlock. I’ve always took a liking to keys escpecially the older ones. Thanks for the chance to win! 😀 I love your blog!

    Reply
  29. denise

    my father-in-law always said,”the squeeky wheel always gets the oil”,so here i am again. i feel like a little beggar. anyway, when i was eleven,my father passed away. and being that my mother and i were the only ones left at home and she worked out,i had new respondsibilties. one of them was i had a key as to get in the house after school and do my chores by the time she arrived home. i never ever misplaced or lost that key. that’s it that’s all i have. but,very respondsible don’t you agree? 🙂 Bestest,Denise

    Reply
  30. Patti

    One time, I parked my car in the school parking lot, looked in the mirror, combed my hair and put on some makeup, got out of the car and locked it. I went to classes for the day. When I came back to my car, I realized not only had I left my keys in the ignition, but my engine was still running! Ack! So I waited til the car ran out of gas (it was almost gone), then called my Dad to pick me up. I lied and told him that I accidentally locked myself out after realizing my car was out of gas. I was too embarrassed to tell him the real story.

    Reply
  31. Victoria Ramos

    I KNOW I can’t top your story — that is too funny!

    Reply
  32. Amanda May

    Your story is too funny! Of course she would come home right when you were stuck in the door.
    The house I live in now has old doors that have their original hardware, meaning our front door locks whenever it is closed and opens with a big skeleton key. The day after Thanksgiving I was home alone, it was snowing, and I went out on the front porch in my slippers. As the door clanked shut behind me I realized what I had done. I tried picking our locks, but those old doors are very sturdy (hence the enormous keys I guess). So I knocked on the door of my neighbor, who I had never actually met. It was a great introduction – “Hi, Im Amanda, we haven’t met before but I just locked myself out and I’m in my slippers and have no jacket, could I use your phone?”. The locksmith told me he was busy relaxing after Thanksgiving and wouldn’t come for a couple hours, so I went back to lock picking. Eventually I found one of our basement windows that would open if I pulled out some screws.
    Now we keep a key hidden outside the house.
    My mother collects old keys. There really is something about the mystery of what they might have opened that is endlessly intriguing!

    Reply
  33. Leigh

    Dear Corey, I’m very touched to have been selected as the winner of your delightful give away. Out of all those interesting comments… you could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw that I would be the recipient of the wonderful little Tour de France cyclist. A tiny treasure and very much appreciated. Thanks so much Corey.
    Leigh
    X.

    Reply
  34. Gretchen Seibert

    My first day on the job years ago must have been very stressful because on the second morning of that job, I could not find my car keys. They were nowhere to be found. I looked for as long as I possibly could before giving up and taking my husband’s car for the day. (Luckily, he was out of town.) But his car was a stick-shift Jaguar which I had never driven. I drove it as best I could — slowly to be sure — and parked far from any other cars in the lot. During the day, I phoned my mother-in-law to explain the situation. Bless her heart — she went over to the house and searched everywhere for my missing keys. Where did she find them? In the garbage! We laughed often about those missing keys!

    Reply
  35. Sara

    I rode the bus to and from school beginning in kindergarten. One day, I got home and my mom and little sister were not there. I became somewhat hysterical, as this had never happened before, crying and panicking all around the outside of the house. My sweet, very old, neighbor, Gladys, heard me and invited me to sit on her front porch ’til my mom got home, which just a few minutes later.
    The next weekend, my dad had a house key made for me. Red just like our house. I used it until my parents sold the house about 10 years ago. And I still have it. It is a wonderful reminder of many happy years there, and of the event that gave it to me!
    P.S. I don’t think my mom was ever not home waiting for me when I got there, after that!

    Reply
  36. Angela Vular

    Keys…what is it with losing them and misplacing them? My sister and I have terrible luck with our keys. She has locked herself out of her car 3 times this summer already. My son is a police officer so I have had to call him on several occasions to retrieve her keys from the car. He cannot understand why it keeps happening! I had 2 sets of keys to my car and lost one in a fabric store. They were never found so I am hanging on to my one and only set for dear life! I guess I should order another set but they are really expensive. I have locked myself out of my house too many times to recall. The only way in is to crawl through my basement window. We live in an old house and thank goodness the window is set in with 2 nails. I can move the nails with anything thin. Then I crawl in the rather small window, knocking down all the boxes that are stacked under it! My husband wants to replace it with one of those new glass block windows. Yikes….how will I ever get in again???

    Reply
  37. Lorelei

    I don’t remember our house every being locked but I do remember my mother had a desk with a glass-fronted bookcase on top. The slant-top to the desk always held the key although the desk was locked. I was tempted many times to open the desk but never did. Now I know the desk held the bills, statements, taxes, stamps and nothing special as I had envisioned (old love letters, photographs, pressed hankies, old corsages). Mama is gone now this past year and my brother owns the desk with the special key. I’d like to think he secrets away more romantic items but I’ll admit it’s all in my over-worked imagination.

    Reply
  38. Rebecca from the pacific northwest

    My husband (then sweetheart) sent me roses for Valentine’s Day. My roommate and I were so excited to come home and find them sitting on our snow-covered front porch — not harmed by the cold, I’m glad to note — that we promptly locked our coats IN the house and our selves OUT of the house. Much hilarity ensued, and much coldness too. I think someone jimmied up a window enough to slither inside.

    Reply
  39. Rebecca from the pacific northwest

    Lucky Leigh!

    Reply
  40. Franca Bollo

    Where was the photo of the cats taken?

    Reply
  41. Carol

    For valentine’s day one year, my boyfriend (now husband of 30 yrs) couldn’t afford expensive flowers or dinner in a nice restaurant. He gave me a sweet card with an old house key in it. I asked him what it was and he said “the key to my heart”. I hope I never lose that key or the sentiment behind it. I couldn’t have hope for a more thoughtful and generous gift!!

    Reply
  42. susanna

    *grin* You have the best stories, Corey. I can just imagine you halfway through that cat door. I bet FH absolutely loves that you, too.
    I don’t think that I have a personal house key story but I will tell you that there is a small little shack sitting on a sidewalk in downtown New York with an interior that looks remarkably like The Key Master’s little room in The Matrix. Thousands of keys, old and new, big and small, hanging from nails along every square inch on the interior walls. It’s a crazy yet marvelous sight!

    Reply
  43. susanna

    Oops! I really should preview my comments… I meant to write I bet FH absolutely loves that about you. You always have such fun and funny life experiences.

    Reply
  44. Salut15@ aol.com

    While spending a year in France as part of a college study program,one of favorite things to do was……..brocanting!!!I was beside myself when I first went to the Marché aux Puces!!!As a poor student,I could not afford ,much…but I DID find an old antique key…it remains one of my favorite souvenirs of France,holding memories of the first time I really bargained for something in French!Corey,thanks for reminding me of this precious memory!
    Sue

    Reply
  45. melly

    During a visit back “home” several years ago, I was wandering through the remains of my ancestors property which has been abandoned for close to fifty years. It is a splendid property but it would take much more than I have to restore it to say nothing of the legal jungle of an estate that has not been probated since my great grandparents….
    Overcome by sadness over the fact that the centuries wall has been robbed stone by stone by people avoiding the expense of buying their own…shrubs so dense that it resembled a forest, I found the front door opened. I was later told the house is used as shelter by homeless people. Devastated by the state of it, I sat on the broken down stairs while glimpses of memories from decades ago danced in my head. I caressed the ground that I loved so…to my surprise, I found a key. A large key, the size of my hand. I inserted it in the front door…it worked! I pressed it to my chest, looking up to the sky in a gesture of thanks…it was then that I realized that the massive orange trees were filled with fruit…Abandoned but still giving. I treasure this key….the key that my beloved grandparents cared for through time…I touch it, and it makes me feel so close to them.

    Reply
  46. Jillayne

    For me, the key to a house is a special thing – I refuse, and have always refused, to have my house key on a key chain with any other keys. It stands alone, on it’s on key chain, not mixed up or muddled up with keys to cars or mailboxes or bike locks or anything else.
    A house is a home and the key to that is the key to our hearts…
    Having said all that, the key to my house has always resided on a key chain given to me by my best friend on my 16th birthday. The design is faded, the leather burnished but I can still make out “Alaska-Yukon Brew” and the large beer stein. It’s kind of odd as I have never liked beer at all, but even though I’ve been gone for 14 years now, The Yukon and home are still synonymous…. and so the key to my home is on the keychain to my home…

    Reply
  47. Kinda Sassy

    Imagine the stories keys could tell if they could.
    After 10 weeks of living in a shelter for abused women and children, my daughter and I moved into a house at the start of July.
    We have our own rooms, although with the post traumatic stress she suffers, she prefers to sleep in my bed (its the thought of her own room that counts) a lovely big family room, an ajoining kitchen and by far the greatest treaure of them all as far as social housing goes, a rooftop terrace!
    Trying to start a life on a $1500 budget when you are beginning with nothing (not even your own clothes) is tough, but I’m sitting at a $40 kitchen table, my daughter is sitting on a $87 couch after eating dinner at a francaphone soup kitchen and is now watching a DVD from the library on a donated TV. We are both dealing with the aftermath of what we have lived for the last three years, but finally we are safe and we are free.
    The greatest treasure I now own is the little brass key that opens the door to our very own home. A story any key would enjoy sharing if it could talk I’m sure.

    Reply
  48. Jonathan from Napa, CA

    I have a friend who gave
    his house key to friends
    so they could feed his cat
    while he was gone. When
    he came back he discovered
    that they took the cat to
    the vet and had it neutered.
    Go figure???

    Reply
  49. molly shea

    your story is so funny..when my daughter was 4ish…i stepped outside onto the patio & the door locked behind me…leaving her alone in the locked house..i went to the window & asked her to unlock the door..all she could do was smile & wave at me.i finally got the window open & had to climb in!!!!! also my parents never locked the door except at night!!! that was a very very long time ago!!!!

    Reply
  50. molly

    needed a KEY outside!!!!!!

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  51. Gail

    I just read your story to my 22 year old son. He thinks you are one “cool cat.”
    xoxo
    Gail

    Reply
  52. Picnics in Provence

    A few years ago my Dad came to Melbourne to take my husband and I out for a lovely meal for my 40th birthday. Ever sensible hubby volunteered to go home to relieve the babysitter and encouraged me to stay in town and kick up my heals with my Dad. Silly not to!.
    On returning home well into the wee hours, I realized I had forgotten my front door key however we kept a spare by the back door. On one of side of the house was a tall locked gate and on the other a small wall beside the garage. It seemed like an imposition to wake up my husband at such a late hour but a terribly good idea at the time, to climb onto the small wall and scale the garage roof – in order to access the back of the house. In a dress and heels. And a not inconsiderable amount of birthday rosé.
    When husband found me bruised and bewildered wedged between the wall of the garage and a prickly bush, he mentioned the side gate was open….

    Reply
  53. Jane Ann

    Love your stories Corey! I love that you are a fun spontaneous person! I have had several key mishaps. I guess I get distracted. I’m always doing two things at once or in a hurry. I’ve. Crawled through many a window, skittering over dressers or into bathrooms. Even when I was with someone else, I always was the one hoisted up. My best story though, happened more recently. A key to the house could not be found among the six of us. We ended up having two of our younger boys, eager volunteers they were, to go through the crawl space under the house and come up through the hall closet. They did this in the pitch black and thought it was like a big treasure exploration. We knew it was clean from a recent inspection for all of you who would worry about that. :). It took them about 15 minutes. They weren’t afraid a bit and had the biggest smile on their faces as they came out of the closet as the conquering heroes. They loved saving the day and it remains a favorite memory
    On another note, my Grandmother lived in a home that used skeleton keys for many of the doors. It was a place of wonder and mystery for me.

    Reply
  54. Diane

    A ladder, an unlocked second story bathroom window, darkness falling, bruises, a husband working out of state. I wish I could say I never left without my key again, but now my house will not lock without a key.
    Another time, a gas station, keys in car while pumping, a Keeshond stepping on the door lock button frantic to say hello to new people, a husband working out of state. Really there is a pattern.

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  55. Maura

    LOL Corey you have such wonderful stories to tell about your antics… I can just picture you stuck in that cat door! That would be me. I don’t have any stories that I can remember about house keys at the moment but I’m sure they’re somewhere in my ‘file-folder’ of a brain that probably looks more like the warehouse in Indiana Jones Raiders Of The Lost ARK. One year…85 we drove all the way from British Columbia Canada where we lived to Manitoba which is not quite half way across Canada to visit my Dad and my step Mom. We drove all over the place…stayed at the lake too and nary a mishap with keys. On our way home we decided to stop about 1/2 hour from our home in the mountains to swim at the local hot springs. We had a wonderful swim and it was a great way to end our vacation….that is until we went to get in the truck. I looked at hubby he looked at me and no one had the keys. He said he gave them to me and I put them in my purse. Well…there was my purse…sitting on the seat for all the world to see and there were the keys on top of it. I had grabbed the bag with the bathing suits and towels and thought I had my purse because I had SOMETHING in my hands and locked the doors!!!! Hubby had to break a side window and unlock the doors and we were on our way home…finally. Sigh.

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