These ornate brass lockbusters looked like they opened the door to a secret garden— or maybe Bluebeard's worst room! It was like receiving a box of jewels.
I asked Molly what they opened, exactly. She didn't answer. That was typical! In my family, you have to make up your own answers.
After fondling them for awhile, I got the idea that I wanted to string the keys on beads, like rosaries, and then make some kind of mobile out of them.
Today I finally did it, on my birthday eve. I found a cascading shell lamp for sale at CostPlus, one of those "island romance" numbers you're supposed to hook up as a lamp. The metal grid that holds the strands of shells is just the kind of "solar system" design I needed to suspend my secret keys.
Jon hung my mobile just above my bed, in front of the window light. He used fishing line and hardware store "spinners," so it will twirl without getting twisted.
There's something about these old keys that make me smile, in spite of my curmudgeonly approach to a birthday. They have this funny way of insisting, "Hey, there's always another way in."
And speaking of birthdays... big kiss to all of you who've sent me postal greetings! I love tearing open those envelopes! I have something to send y'all, too, but you might have to wait a week for me to cram myself into my shipping closet again!
Special embraces to those girls at "BadButtons," who made me a whole baggie full of itty-bitty "Clits Up" buttons that are AWESOME. I'll take a picture of them next week, something artful and astounding.
You know, if I had a rubel from everyone who clicked on my naked ice skater, I would never have to ask for another donation. I could just get my own web server, a raft of elves, and be done with it. The traffic I got on that ice-dancer link from Russian language web pages was unbelieveable. It even dwarfed the JT Leroy kerfuffle.
"Naked Ice" still comes up in my list of most popular key words associated with this site. I am so mystified every time I look at the "key word" hit list for this blog. It changes every day, of course, and it's like a found poem.
Today we have:
big red one
lesbian nipple pullers
press corps and male escort
prison new orleans
Yikes! I'll need every secret key I've got to jimmy my way out of that one.