or have been for me that I wrote about here. My keys, I mentioned in passing, were lost last week. Last week was a bit of a blur; I was transferring one key off a key chain to ISHI, he took the main key, for sure, we knew that, but what happened to the others? He was sure we did this transfer in shul; I absolutely couldn’t remember a thing. I thought he must have the whole set, because I certainly didn’t. I always use the same pocketbook, except for dressy occasions and for traveling. But I was transferring my things into a smaller bag, since my pocketbook was getting too heavy to shlepp around everywhere, needing my phone and my camera and my keys and my keys…so were they in one bag or another or on the ground outside my house or outside the shul or outside a store or inside? The endless possibilities made me dizzy.
So where were they?
In my kitchen.
I bent down this morning to get something (that’s already a blur), maybe something I dropped, and lo and behold!
There they were! They were under the edge of the cabinet. Now, I know I’ve swept the floor since I lost them, but why didn’t they come up in the sweep?
I won’t complain; I’m just very happy I found them. Life has a way of making things complicated enough without being grateful when things straighten themselves out in front of you.