Never trust a man with keys
14 January 2009
Published at 14:45 Comments (3)
At the weekend it rained cats and dogs (shock, horror, RAIN in Almería??!). There had also been a lot of wind and the plastic sheet covering the (leaky) roof of the static caravan originally purchased to house our builders had more or less blown off.
Today's sunshine seemed like the ideal opportunity to get the cover back on but first we needed to open the caravan to see what havoc has been wreaked inside.
The keys were last used sometime last summer but should have been easy to find: I am not known for my tidy nature and neither is Terry, so we have a very simple system - there is a box for keys. It is the responsibility of whoever uses them last to replace them there. This is VERY important because not only do we have two houses of our own to worry about but we also have spares for no fewer than 6 other friends and neighbours. I live in constant fear of losing someone else's keys.
So no surprise when I went to the box and ... no keys. I was not a happy bunny because I know he must have been the last to use them because I can't make the caravan door key work. He enquired in injured tones that 'I suppose you think it's my fault...??..'
Long story short, three hours fruitless searching and still no keys. My presence is now required at the caravan as plastic sheet replacement is a two-person job.