No, no fireworks, nor even cross words. I didn't notice when I referred to the clocks changing in the last post, nor even when I was talking about the church heating with Sybil, whom I met in the Co-op.
It was when I was thinking about altering clocks - 'the television and our phones will alter automatically,' I thought. 'It's only the microwave and the bedside clock ... oh, bugger. Oh buggering bugger. Oh fuckety buggering ....' ... you get the picture. I continued to swear for several minutes, to the Sage's amusement, while I put my coat on and fished out some keys. He offered to come down to the church with me, but I'm not scared of the dark nor the churchyard and was quite okay to go alone.
I'd altered the time clock for the church heating earlier in the week, but did I take the clock change into account? Like hell I did. My only consolation is that I remembered it at 9.15 pm and not around 3 am tomorrow, when getting up and shambling down the road would have been a serious test of my willpower.
The Sage had a snifter waiting for me when I got home. That is, a wee dram. Oh darlings, a glass of whisky.
Seriously, I hate the biannual clock change. Dearly as I love Scotland and the Scots, I want independence for England and Wales over this.
That reminds me of the time, soon after Al was born, when my mother (whose two children were born five and a half years apart) asked if I intended to continue to have biannual babies? Honestly, it wouldn't be as nature intended. To be fair, she did realise her mistake when I gave her a funny look. That is, I laughed.
It was when I was thinking about altering clocks - 'the television and our phones will alter automatically,' I thought. 'It's only the microwave and the bedside clock ... oh, bugger. Oh buggering bugger. Oh fuckety buggering ....' ... you get the picture. I continued to swear for several minutes, to the Sage's amusement, while I put my coat on and fished out some keys. He offered to come down to the church with me, but I'm not scared of the dark nor the churchyard and was quite okay to go alone.
I'd altered the time clock for the church heating earlier in the week, but did I take the clock change into account? Like hell I did. My only consolation is that I remembered it at 9.15 pm and not around 3 am tomorrow, when getting up and shambling down the road would have been a serious test of my willpower.
The Sage had a snifter waiting for me when I got home. That is, a wee dram. Oh darlings, a glass of whisky.
Seriously, I hate the biannual clock change. Dearly as I love Scotland and the Scots, I want independence for England and Wales over this.
That reminds me of the time, soon after Al was born, when my mother (whose two children were born five and a half years apart) asked if I intended to continue to have biannual babies? Honestly, it wouldn't be as nature intended. To be fair, she did realise her mistake when I gave her a funny look. That is, I laughed.
8 comments:
A wee dram was a great idea. I think the U.S. does the time change next Sunday. Bah humbug. Now I need a wee dram..
It's just so old fashioned - absurd that so many countries still go through this ritual twice a year.
I think I unusually failed to have a feather-spitting rant about this last spring, so I'll probably double-rant later today.
Its absurd this turning of the clock. First time introduced in the German Reich of 1916 or 1917 to strengthen the war effort - and always re-invented for dubious reasons nobody can explain.
As my husband explained it, it was started to save energy, but it has been proven that it never has, so I am completely baffled as to why it continues. Just messes up everyones alga rythms or something.
I can only agree with you all and I live in rural Scotland.
They say it is to make things easier for farmers but all the farmers I know work to the light available, not the clock!
Well at least you did it!
Actually I think they keep the damn silly tradition going just so people can write funny blog posts about it.
We all seem to agree! Surely someone will argue with us? Anon, you're brave. Lucky you though, living in rural Scotland, I can't think of anywhere more lovely.
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