What stood out, other than the yellow Corvette, was the hanging key ring. I used to feel self-conscious about it, but my pockets are always so full of dirt that hanging the keys is the best thing for them. Also, because I have locked myself out of my house once too often so the keys have become like a security blanket telling me that I can go home if I want to.

Thanks for the blog; I enjoyed it and I know your mother is proud of you!

Greene, I've been meaning to reply for months. In my right pocket I've got two key rings I can't live without. In addition a third key ring partially inserted with the belt-loop handle hanging out for easy access.

Sure, I could put them all on one good ring. Actually, that would never work! LOL. One ring is dedicated to the absolute necessary spares (truck/house/mom's house), those insure vehicle and a dry place to sleep. I got tired of the jingle on my body but every time I hear the sound I see my Dad. I don't mean to sound like a loon. As a youngster my bedroom was nearest the front door of our house. I'd hear him park in the drive or on the street and hear him jingle-jangle all the way to the door and wait for the quiet pause as he reached into his pocket for the (separate) house keys.

Talk about a security blanket, it was always good to know he was home. Long, long time ago but it meant a lot.

A psychologist would charge good money to examine such memories and behavior!

I've had another blog post half-written awaiting a tool delivery. It's not an endorsement or recommendation (nor as entertaining as a good memory) but I hope to make it a useful comparison of the various bed edging tools I own and use and their particular applications. There are two others I want to purchase and compare. Old dog/new trick potential, the 100 year old standard will be hard to beat but worth a look. I had a great deal of difficulty procuring what I wanted by taking delivery of "improved" models already owned. I've been eyeing some nice European varieties but I wanted to stay true to an old favorite.

Have a great day!

Keys = security.

I had never thought of a key representing security; always took keys for granted. Children don't have keys (or at least they didn't back in the day) and adults have keys. Simple.

For several months I was volunteering at our homeless shelter and soup kitchen. I befriended on older man. I was there for him when he wanted to talk, or needed a ride to the store or the doctor, gave him free haircuts, whatever was needed. One day his name made it to the top of the list and he was able to finally get out of the homeless shelter and into an apartment of his own. Lots of people helped him to get settled, donating whatever they could so he would have a place to sit, dishes and pots/pans for cooking, etc.

After most everyone else left he and I stood in the doorway to admire his new home. He was beaming with joy.

He reached into his pocket and, using just two fingers, he held up a single key. For a moment I thought he wanted me to lock his door for him.
He said, "Do you know what this means? This means I have a place to go and no one can keep me out."

I'll bet your father was as proud of his jingle-jangle keys as this man was of his single key.
No psychologist needed.
You are perfectly normal.