The Approved Location

Well, I used to do so more often, less so now.

But I'm still recovering from that "more often."

Last week when trying to decide on a coat to wear to the City, where I knew it would be cold cold cold, I put on a coat I hadn't worn in a long time and put my hand into one of the pockets. I discovered the second set of keys to my car.

The keys I had lost, oh, last year.

Although I was thinking, "Oh, frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" I could hear Kris chiding me for not putting the keys in the approved location way back when, so that I didn't lose them in first place.

Ah, the approved location.

Kris has a system of putting things in their "approved locations." Which isn't to say, "A place for everything and everything in its place." Definitely not. Our house is far too cluttered for Kris to be adhering to that one. Instead, in Kris' system, an important thing goes into its approved location when put down or removed from his possession.

In the house, the approved location is in the upside-down frisbee on the hallway bookcase near the front door. Keys, wallets, loose change, badges, cell phones, and anything else that needs to remembered but is small enough to be eaten by a dog goes into the disc.

For non-home places, however, the approved location is always the smallest, accessible, sealable spot. For example, our ultimate bags have a small, inner, zipped pocket. Keys and wallets go into those pockets when we're at the fields.

Unless they are the keys to someone else's car. Then the approved location is the owner's hand, with his acknowledgement of receipt.

My backpack is also an approved location for some things, but it's a little different. I bounce back and forth between using my Camelbak for carrying small items, along with my Waterfield computer bag (thanks, Mike!) for my laptop, and my really, really ridiculously comfortable REI backpack, shoving everything into it, including the laptop. The former is better for the laptop, the latter better for my back and shoulders (since the computer bag doesn't hang off one shoulder). I still haven't decided between the two.

Several other options for my portable approved location have crept up in the past. I had a satchel for a long while, but I had to lean with that one. Sandie purchased another carrying bag for me for Christmas last year. Kris commandeered that one might quick. Probably just as well, as I very much like the backpack, and always have mine shoved full of crap. Won't carry a purse, but a backpack? Whoo!

Even carried one to the top of Juana Picchu, the mountain you see in the back of all the pictures of Machu Picchu. The guide I was with at one point tried to take my backpack, thinking he'd be helpful. When he realized how heavy it was, he let me carry it.

I started using the "approved location" method of placing things where I can find them again about, oh, three years ago or so, after I had lost my keys again. I was trying to leave, but couldn't until I found my keys, and I had spent half an hour looking for them everywhere. In complete frustration, I exclaimed, "I would lose my head if it wasn't attached to my head!"

At which point, he burst into uncontrollable, side-splitting laughter.

Which just made me angry.

Oh, sure, I can laugh about it now. Indeed my head is attached to my head, in some way I guess.

But now, the keys go into the approved location when I get home, so at least I don't have to worry about finding them.

• Log in to read full content