Keys

Keys ©

By Michael Casey

This is my first post of March 2013, I noticed that an estate agent was trying to open the vacant house over the road, what he didn’t know was that the locks had been changed, so I smiled. From my vantage point here in the window I see the whole world and its mum promenade before me. All kinds of everything happen before me. Today it was keys, so I thought could I write about keys? Do I have enough memories of keys? As I talk my big daughter, and she is now bigger that mum, she is playing the keys on the piano, sometimes very well, sometimes more practice is needed, but she has 2 weeks before the next piano lesson, playing the keys every day before  the piano teacher returns.

We used to have the ceremony of the keys when I lived at home, my dad used to get me to lock the entry door, and bar the gate at the bottom of the entry which opened into our yard. We’d also lock and bolt our house doors before dad took the keys to bed with him, along with a small westclock alarm clock, it was gold with a green face I seem to remember. As I look up through the window somebody is taking a look at the house over the road, this time the right keys, the new keys are in the estate agents hands. As for my daughter she is playing God Save the Queen, it’s in her music book. And the Queen has left hospital too, do you think she has house keys of her own for Buckingham Palace? Tony one of our old security team at the law firm told me he used to do guard duty at the palace, he revealed at night the army guys put trainers on, they don’t want to wake the Queen up after all. Imagine waking up the Duke of Edinburgh, the air would be blue, red, white and blue, but mainly blue. I suppose that’s why folks like the Duke, he calls a spade a spade, and he’d tell you exactly where to put that rifle if you woke him up in the night.

The key to a good life is a good wife, or so she tells me. Barry White is singing to me now, the first, the last, my  everything.  Dance on all the major keys of life, the high notes, the low notes, the notes in between, tickle your wife’s fancy, a little bit of what you fancy does you well. Everything has  to be done so you have the key to a good life, love life and laughter, then you have all the keys, no doors are barred to you, your life  is like music, all the keys in order.