When we go away on holiday husband has a 'thing' about locking all the windows and doors. Very sensible it is too and, I think, also stipulated in the home insurance. He used to do it the night before our departure, which was very annoying because it felt like you were living in cell block H for the evening! Even in midsummer it was impossible to open anything after about 8pm! He's better now!
Yesterday morning it was sunny here and we have a conservatory at the back of the house which warms up beautifully during the day. The conservatory can be reached through the kitchen as well as through the patio door from the sitting room. I have often dreamed of French doors, but alas this house was a child of the 60's, as am I, and it wasn't a very elegant period! (Though I exempt myself from that statement!!!)
I know this is long winded and I'll get there in the end, promise.
So, the sun is shining in the conservatory and I wander over to the patio doors to let the warmth drift through the house. They were still locked from our holliday.
Now I have had previous dealings with the said doors and it usually ends in battle. As I have said the patio doors lead into the conservatory (not the patio!) therefore they are 'internal' doors. The patio doors have four locks (it feels like opening a bank vault). The conservatory has an outside door which has 3 locks! The door from the conservatory to the kitchen also has three locks. Talk about escape from Suburbia, I can't even get out of the house! Lets face it, if a burglar has already battled his way through the back door from the garden and is faced with a glass door with four locks what would he do? I think a brick might spring to mind.
I brace myself for battle and unlock the easy one first, the little push button one in the middle. The key for that is distinctive, so easy to find in the bunch, and as I turn out it pops. Yes, so far so good. Now which one? I go around the other side, through the kitchen and find what I think is the right key for the 'outside' lock. I turn it. There is no satisfying clunk and I'm not sure that 'we' ever lock that one anyway. Back inside there are still two locks. I wonder if it might be worth making a cup of tea before attempting these two but decide against it because the sun might not last long (and it's rays are the sole purpose of this exercise).
The previous owner cleverly(!) colour coded the remaining two locks with a little stripe of white enamel paint on one and yellow on the other, both on the key and the corresponding lock. How helpful (though not very aesthetically pleasing), perhaps his wife complained as well.
The yellow key fitted into the yellow lock at the bottom of the door and turned decisively. Only one more to go. I dragged a chair over to the door and climbed up, brandishing the white key, muttering under my breath 'Ha, I'm gonna get you now' and..........sod it! The damn thing wouldn't turn. Why not? The others had complied. I tried again. Still nothing. Perhaps this one wasn't locked. I tried the door but it wouldn't budge. Perhaps it was the 'outside' lock. Maybe that one hadn't been locked and so perhaps I had actually locked it earlier. So off I trot to try and unlock it again. I twiddled and fiddled. Nothing. The catch to release it is on the sitting room side so off I go again, through the kitchen into the lounge to try to open the door. You guessed it. Nothing, not even a hairs breadth of a movement. A brick seemed a viable option at this point but I wasn't quite out of options yet....
I rang husband on the mobile. It went straight to answer phone. There were a lot of ******!!!!'s in my message. He rang back laughing.
'It's that b***** one at the top, I know it' I said, quite unamused.
'Well try again while I'm on the phone'.
(As if that's going to help!)
I climb back up and fit the key in the hole again. 'I'm not sure if it's working' I say.
'Well has the little lever popped out?'
'Good, well there you are then' smugly.
'Well I'm not sure' I say, and....... I CAN'T BELIEVE I DID THIS BIT............I pushed the 'little lever' back in
, just to make sure it had popped out in the first place! Well that was it. No matter how much I fiddled I couldn't get it to come back out. 'Don't worry' he said 'I'll sort it out when I get home'. This from a man that leaves notes saying ''I think the washing machine is broken''
So there I am. A broken woman. I may be able to drain a washing machine full of water into a plastic carrier bag but I am thwarted by a locked door.
Later on I received a comment from Böbø
regarding my 'light hearted' misandry
. So, for the record, I just thought I should state that I do like men. Actually I really enjoy the company of men, even husband come to that! And Small Sprog. In fact my liking for men has got me into all sorts of trouble in the past! So please take it all with a pinch of salt. I can mend the washing machine, he's good with locks. It's equality that matters.........see?!