Blame It All on the Sunrise

How to photograph the perfect sunrise and still manage to ruin your day:

  1. Lock your spare house key inside house.
  2. Go to driveway and start your car with keyless entry fob.
  3. Decide sunrise is too pretty to let pass undocumented.
  4. Get out of car to photograph sunrise with iPhone, keys in hand and car still running.
  5. Notice that keys are too bulky to manage the best possible photo (since we are picky about these things).
  6. Place key ring containing house key, keys for both cars, garage, and roller-skates, not to mention cool sparkly shoe keyring and grandsons’ school keyring photos on hood of car.
  7. Consider the fact that a “hood” is called a “bonnet” in England. Make mental note to mention this little tidbit in next blog post.
  8. Open gate and cross road, taking awesome photo pictured above, the best of about 20 shots.
  9. Walk around front garden taking more photos. Just because.
  10. Return to vehicle.
  11. Fail to notice keys still on hood. Bonnet. Whatever…
  12. Leave to collect friend for work.
  13. Notice on way there that there is a yellow warning triangle on dashboard and a notification that there is no key detected in car.
  14. Reason the battery in your key must be low.
  15. Park in one-hour restricted carpark ten miles from home.
  16. Kill engine.
  17. Try unsuccessfully to lock vehicle.
  18. Search handbag, console, glovebox, under carpets, under car, pockets, wallet, makeup bag, ministry bag, rear seat pockets and boot of car for keys.
  19. Remember that a “boot” in England is called a “trunk” in America.
  20. Panic. 
  21. Ring daughter to go drive to your house and check front garden and driveway for keys.
  22. Call HH to keep him in the loop and let him know you are a proper idiot and that you may need to have your car towed.
  23. Daughter rings back. No keys. Decides to check lane. Not in lane. Turns on to main road. Locates mangled key ring in centre of road (also known as the center of road) and calls to inform you one key is smashed to bits, but other key is functional. It is your key. Let’s hope it still works…
  24. Drown panic in a cup of coffee.
  25. Meanwhile, watch clock as your hour is nearly up now and there is a £60 fine looming in your future.
  26. Daughter arrives finally with what is left of your keys.
  27. Test key to make sure it works.
  28. Thank daughter profusely, promising to pay her in either a croissant and coffee or one of your kidneys. Whichever she needs most at the moment.
  29. Start car and escape the video enforced carpark with 3 minutes to spare. Whew!
  30. After uneventful workday, return home and realise your house key is nowhere to be found. Must have been lost when keys were run over, and is probably hitching a lift to Scotland in the tread of someone’s tire. (Also called a tyre.)
  31. Ring daughter and discover she has no spare key. Recall your own spare key has been locked inside house and is currently useless to you.
  32. Remind self what a bone-headed fool you are. Self denigration, while not particularly helpful, seems the only course of action at this point.
  33.  Ring HH (who works in London, 26 miles away) and spell out entire miserable tale. Repeat all fine details because it was not humiliating enough to explain them the first time, and it’s almost like HH has been working and is having trouble wrapping his mind around the fact you are now missing two house keys in the same day…
  34. Listen to him repeat how he had reminded you just yesterday to get another key cut. Just in case…
  35. Reaffirm that he is, as always, right, sane and just and I am indeed the pig’s ear I had always known myself to be. Plus I’m menopausal. Because admitting that is a good out for virtually every stupid action I take these days. Tell HH you’ll take care of yourself and not to worry then hang up on him. Because… menopause.
  36. HH rings back to say he’s on his way home. To rescue you. Because he’s HH and he’s wonderful and you don’t deserve him.
  37. Feed all outdoor animals in dress clothes because it’s now getting dark.
  38. Listen to poor mistreated dog barking inside because he hasn’t been out since before 8 a.m.
  39. Hate your life.
  40. Return to car before dying of frostbite, pick up iPhone and write this post, because sometimes we all have days like this. And sometimes we’re stupid. And sometimes we need to be rescued twice in the same day by family members or friends, and we’re not worthy, but they love us anyway.
  41. Try to forget it is going to cost a fortune to replace HH’s key…
  42. Blame it all on the sunrise…

Mother Hen

© motherhendiaries 2017 all rights reserved.

Photo taken with iPhone 6s Plus, no filter.

22 replies »

  1. OMG, I’m still laughing (with you, not at you!). This sounds exactly like something that would happen to me – except that I would probably forget to take the damn sunrise photo. (Your photos are beautiful, by the way.)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. My advice….. eliminate all unnecessary steps and vigorously cycle between “Panic” and “Drown panic in a cup of coffee.”. You might also want to add “Visit restroom” or whatever they call it over there. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Hilarious! Sounds like a page from one of my days, lol. If you can’t beat it, then poke fun at it until it becomes emotionally manageable. Great read, thanks for the chuckle!

    Liked by 1 person

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