I was digging in the front garden one day and found a key, we never had a key to the front door so I stuck it in for a laugh, it worked!
I could never figure out how the front door key ended up in the garden, perhaps some coal miners wife had had a guts full of this or that and gave it the chuck!!.
The previous owner of the property never had a key either, so it had been there for a very long time, it was certainly very tarnished.
Perhaps the key originally fell from the miner's wife's apron-pocket, intoi the dough she was kneading, got backed, basketed and sold at the market where it was brought by a banker's wife who, when slicing it with her silver-handled bread knife, struck the key with a metallic graunch!. Believing the loaf contaminated, she gave it to a passing rabble of young lads, who picked and nibbled at the crusts, then threw the remainder to the ducks in the local witch-dunking pond. The greediest of the duck swallowed the key whole and feeling very uncomfortable and fearful that he'd be attacked by his fellow ducks and drakes because of his signs of suffering as birds are wont to do, flew off to a small goldfish pond he knew of, in the front yard of what would in future be the Barunda homestead, where he expired from a twisted gut. His body lasted in its corporal form only briefly, as compared with the metal key, which lay firstly on the soil, then later in it, until the day a bushy-tailed Barunda by the name of Shunda uncoverd it during one of his trademark frenetic digging sessions.
I'm only guessing, of course, but I'm pretty confident that this is exactly what happened.
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I was digging in the front garden one day and found a key, we never had a key to the front door so I stuck it in for a laugh, it worked!
I could never figure out how the front door key ended up in the garden, perhaps some coal miners wife had had a guts full of this or that and gave it the chuck!!.
The previous owner of the property never had a key either, so it had been there for a very long time, it was certainly very tarnished.
Perhaps the key originally fell from the miner's wife's apron-pocket, intoi the dough she was kneading, got backed, basketed and sold at the market where it was brought by a banker's wife who, when slicing it with her silver-handled bread knife, struck the key with a metallic graunch!. Believing the loaf contaminated, she gave it to a passing rabble of young lads, who picked and nibbled at the crusts, then threw the remainder to the ducks in the local witch-dunking pond. The greediest of the duck swallowed the key whole and feeling very uncomfortable and fearful that he'd be attacked by his fellow ducks and drakes because of his signs of suffering as birds are wont to do, flew off to a small goldfish pond he knew of, in the front yard of what would in future be the Barunda homestead, where he expired from a twisted gut. His body lasted in its corporal form only briefly, as compared with the metal key, which lay firstly on the soil, then later in it, until the day a bushy-tailed Barunda by the name of Shunda uncoverd it during one of his trademark frenetic digging sessions.
I'm only guessing, of course, but I'm pretty confident that this is exactly what happened.
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