Sunday, 26 February 2012

Don't lock back in anger

The tale of little t's birthday tea will have to wait, suffice to say it went everso well and thanks to all those that came and made it such a joyous day. I have just got back in from the evening rounds (10.24pm) having broken one of my own little rituals with comic/disastrous results dependent on which side of the door you were. The workshop is bolted and locked with a slide type bolt that has two lugs on it, you slide the bolt back and it locks into place, a padlock through the lug stops it moving without the key to the lock. I ALWAYS slide bolt back to lug two and place padlock back on lug one, locked in place but allowing the bolt to be used, sliding back and forth. Tonight for some insane reason I locked the padlock on lug two, locking the bolt open, even as I did it I thought you don't normally do this, why have you done this, what if something happens and you cannot get the lock off, the bolt is locked open, you wont be able to close the door.

Pah what could happen I chastised myself, get on with it.

So I did.

And in doing so something inevitably happened to the padlock. A big Bernese dog charged through the door slamming it into the newly arranged pile of logs bending the key in the padlock. Metal fatigue and impatience meant that the key snapped, just at the point that my beautiful and oh so patient wife offered to apply the gentle touch that might have prevented the catastrophic metal failure.

Several attempts were made to turn the shard of metal wedged in the lock, an enterprise made much more amusing by the security light deciding to switch off every ten seconds forcing frantic waving of spare limbs to reactivate it. The search for the spare key was pointless but done, as was the lets try every key we have in the vain hope it fits.

As I pondered the merits of having bought a lock that was reportedly hack saw proof the patient one offered I could shoot it off like they did in the movies. Luckily I can tell when she is being serious, this was not one of those times.

Eventually by use of a persuader (hammer) crowbar, cold chisel and heavy duty bolt cutters the lock was prised off the door (the metal lug was severed from the bolt mechanism, the padlock despite a furious attack with a log splitter remained shiny, unmarked and annoyingly locked) and launched into next week. Meantime the Berner who remained on the inside, the Rockmeister, seized the opportunity to polish off all the remaining birthday treats on the dining table.
See evidence above, he even picked all the cheese off as pickled onions are not his favourite. Bless him.

1 comment:

Andy in Germany said...

That's a lovely pic at the end, more so if you Imagine Little T is watching you work on the lock while Tracey is explaining your predicament...