House Keys
What separates two people most profoundly is a different sense and degree of cleanliness. -Friedrich Nietzsche
Have you ever tolerated a small inconvenience, which, if you were to add up the number of times per day or week it inconvenienced you, would be a large inconvenience?
Have you ever suddenly noticed something that you never thought about before, and wondered how you lived with it for so long?
These phenomena came together for me in the form of house keys. Why are house keys often so dirty, and how do they get this way? I am a clean person; why had I not thought of this before?
The keys to my summer serenity cottage worked fine the moment I tried them, yet I realized I was tired of dirty keys. Any dirty keys, to any house or condo or mailbox or anyplace. I was even tired of the smell of dirty keys.
So, I had bright shiny new ones made at nearby Andersonville Hardware Store, in what used to be a village of Swedish immigrants far north of Chicago in the 19th century, and where I used to have a route of Chicago Chocolate Tours back in the old tour days when the Swedish Bakery was still around. I had gone to the hardware store in search of fans -- more on handling heat and humidity and technology at the cottage in a future post! -- but my key epiphany flared like 10,000 fireflies when I heard the hardware store owner making a new set of keys for someone else!
Then, checking out at the cash register with my new keys and a fan, I saw a display of Swiss Army Knives. This reminded me of something I had been reminded of every week or month for years: I needed a new Swiss Army Knife, and not having one was an inconvenience. I had purchased one in Switzerland more than two decades ago, a very small classic bright red one, attached it to my keychain, and found frequent occasion to use it. It opened boxes, trimmed the edge of a fingernail between manicures, let me spot my keys easily in my bag.
My treasured Swiss Army Knife seemed on track to last forever, until it was confiscated by a TSA agent at an airport, and I've missed it ever since. (Side rant: When you think about it, how have we put up with un-Constitutional human rights abuses by governments and airlines for so long? If someone stopped you on the street and took your property, that's called mugging and it's illegal. If government stopped you on the street and looked through your bag and took your property, that's an illegal search and seizure. We don't think muggings or illegal searches and seizures are ok. But if government does it at an airport, we think it's ok -- why, exactly?) Somehow I never purchased a new knife. Until now.
The Swiss Army Knife display at the hardware store contained not only the bright red versions, but one in cobalt blue, a small one, identical except in color to the one I'd had before. This lovely blue complemented my cottage color scheme, and I bought it immediately. The store owner agreed that TSA confiscation of this small, handy, non-aggressive item was ridiculous, and said he found ways to use his almost every day.
I am so glad I went to that hardware store!
Final step: a cheerful grosgrain ribbon! Clean keys (reflecting the summer sun; happy Solstice!), long-awaited Swiss Army knife replacement, fresh blue color, fresh blue ribbon! Locking and unlocking the summer serenity cottage is now a small joy instead of a dull task.
(Seeing sweet Jorji the cat is always a great joy!)
I am so glad the details of the summer serenity cottage are coming together, including in serendipitous ways!
As the saying goes: it's the little things! And: a little cleanliness makes a big difference!
Your friend in decorating,
Valerie
Feel free to say hi via email as well: valerie.beck@post.harvard.edu.
Thank you!
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