About four years ago, we took a month long trip to the Southwest US. There was a big flurry of activity prior to leaving the house empty for that long. Almost as an afterthought, I locked the fire safe, looked around for a good place to hide the keys, put them there, and then showed my wife where they were. “No sweat,” she says, “that will be easy to remember.”
Fast forward a month, we return, unload everything, get settled back in, and about a week later I go to the safe to get something. Oh yeah, the keys. . .hmmmm. . .where did I hide those again. . .? Aha! My wife remembers everything, so I’ll just ask her. No clue.
We systematically tore the place apart, looking in places that would make sense, inside of bowls and cups, vases and boxes, then to places that made no sense, and finally giving up. I called in a locksmith who picked the lock and it’s remained that way until today. I’ve conducted other unsuccessful searches over the years, looking behind bookcases and even between books, and finally just figured it was one of those mysteries that wouldn’t be solved.
Early last week our neighbors told us they’re getting married this Sunday, so I made them a serving board and included a cheese/sausage cutter. My wife wanted to wrap it, and decided to include a fresh cut sunflower as package decoration. Then she went looking for a card among the dozen or more boxes of cards we’ve purchased over the years. She opened the box of Georgia O’Keeffe cards because one of the choices is a sunflower. And of course, there lay the keys.
Georgia O’Keeffe? Really? How on earth did I think that would be an obvious place and easily remembered? Yeah, she painted New Mexico scenes, but I only know that because I just looked her up. My wife knows art, and would have known that, but it’s still not an obvious choice.
At least now the nightmares will stop and I can end therapy. :smack: