What do you do with old keys?

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gaijintendo

Veteran
Location
Scotchland
Just gone through an old box to throw things out. Instead I categorised it. I did throw out most rubber earphone earpiece size variants I found.

I discovered i have loads of keys. Some I know what they are for, some I have no idea... but I find it hard to throw either category out.

Is there any reason to keep them if there is pretty much no chance of needing them?

There's a couple that look like they are for file drawers, one looks like it might open a vending machine, a clock, loads of luggage keys...

Sling them?
 

Profpointy

Legendary Member
Weeeellll.... I slung a load of keys out only to remember afterwards what a particular bunch is for. That said, my dad is an appalling hoarder of broken useless crap and out and out rubbish, creating (us) loads of hassle I could do without so "if in doubt, sling it out is a pretty good adage" Or at least put all the old forgotten and likely useless keys in a labelled tobacco tin rather than randomly in drawers or (worse) mixed in with live keys is at least a start
 
OP
OP
gaijintendo

gaijintendo

Veteran
Location
Scotchland
Weeeellll.... I slung a load of keys out only to remember afterwards what a particular bunch is for. That said, my dad is an appalling hoarder of broken useless crap and out and out rubbish, creating (us) loads of hassle I could do without so "if in doubt, sling it out is a pretty good adage" Or at least put all the old forgotten and likely useless keys in a labelled tobacco tin rather than randomly in drawers or (worse) mixed in with live keys is at least a start
Now I think about it, that's part of the reason I'm trying to ditch things: My gran just went into a home, and my mum missed the first few years of my kid's lives caring for her, then clearing the place
 

accountantpete

Brexiteer
Keep 'em.

This is from my own personal stash

DP3M0778.jpg
 

Heltor Chasca

Out-riding the Black Dog
Or the amount needed to make a difference is tiny.

Exactly. I have also found a bicycle buried and entwined into the roots of a privet hedge I was removing. The weirdest was a hole in a border I was making, filled with 52 (yes 52) stove top irons from the 1950s. Apparently a previous owner had worked for the council and was tasked with handing out irons to the poor. Ahem...Because in those days it was less important to have food and heating. A neatly ironed blouse was MUCH more important.
 
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