pumpkinstrokemarrow

But, being a 75 years old key, a bit odd. Instead of being made out of what looks like a single piece of metal - although I dare say some blanks are actually assembled from two or more pieces - this key is made in two pieces. The shank, that is to say the left hand portion in the illustration, has been cut from sheet maybe 1mm thick, while the blade, that is to say the right hand portion in the illustration, up to and including the just visible knurl, is made from something else, rather heavier. The shank is welded into a slot in the knurl. Now why did they do this? It does save metal, but one would have thought that even in those days this would not be enough to offset the increased cost of manufacture. So my thought is that in the days when the house was built, housewives were much more lock conscious, perhaps needing to keep the maid's hands out of the till, as it were. Or the maid's hands out of the master's porn. drawer. So the housewives had lots of keys. And lots of keys could be heavy. So it is worth while using this technique to get the weight down. Perhaps by as much as a half.

Having got that out of the way, the next problem was that although the lock itself worked, worked OK once a bit of oil had been worked into it, the bolt snagged the door plate, the door frame having moved a fair bit since the house was built. So out with screwdrivers, chisels and so forth and move the door plate up by the necessary 2mm. Clearly not the first time such an operation had been done: in fact, the new much longer screws appeared to have located the original screw holes. So now we have a door which can be locked.

Next step making good. Off to buy some Polyfilla. Polyfilla, then undercoat, then gloss. All quite routine. We will get there after a day or so.

But while I was doing this I thought to myself that this two part key, if it was to be brought into regular use, was quite likely to fall apart, maybe with the blade in the lock and the bolt in the door frame. Might be a bit of a big hole to dig oneself out of. So off to get a spare key cut. The locksmith - one of those chaps that mends shoes in a kiosk that is - has not got the right blank for this relatively ancient key - and has to start with something rather too big and work down. After about five minutes I have a shiny new key plus a lifetime guarantee. Rush home and try the thing out. Can't even get it in the lock. At this point, take a more careful look at the thing, to be quite shocked at how carelessly the thing had been finished. Grinding wheel marks all over the place - rather like a parquet floor which has been scarred by a carelessly driven rotary sander. The locksmith clearly thought I had had my monies worth (£7) by the time he had cut the thing roughly to size, never mind about finishing it off properly. Not much pride in his craft.

Not too keen on cycling back to town to get him to do better. (BH tells me that a lot of these people are ex-forces. A business they can get into with modest capital and modest level of skill). Instead, turn out the file drawer to find a suitable small file. Mount FIL's small metalwork vice in the woodwork vice, file the key in the metalwork vice and file away. After a while the key goes in one side of the lock. After a bit longer it goes in the other side of the lock. But still no rotary action. So take an even more careful look at the thing. Decide that the blade was maybe 1mm too long. More filing. Good thing that key blanks are made out of very mild steel. And, abracadabra, the thing suddenly works. From both sides. Very pleased with my first ever play at locksmith. So pleased in fact that I feel entitled to retire to the sofa for the rest of the day to watch the undercoat dry on the door frame.