"Spring Forward!" The mnemonic, "spring forward, fall back" is on the minds and tips of tongues of countless people today. I like it, springing forward -- most people seem to like it too. It's exciting, the start of a race, the enthusiastic welcoming of a wonderful season. All those are thoughts that have very little to do with the gray, rainy, windy, chilly day just beyond my splattered windows with the occasional raindrops racing downward among their some how stuck and static colleagues.
The electricity was off during the night but my clocks were confused -- I have three clock radios, one near each place I want to listen to the local classical music station. Each had a different reading. One always defaults to 12:00, no argument or information there. The one beside my bed that I glanced at when I awoke [punctually a little before what yesterday would have been 6:00 when it's set to begin playing a bit of classical music for me to wake up to said a blinking 3:51. Once I was up, I glanced at the clock near my sewing table and strangely, this clock which has been within five minutes of it's cousin in the bedroom,said 4:48. What! No way am I going to figure out that nearly hour-long discrepancy. Some oddities in the world we must accept since they have no practical implications although we can mutter all day long and come up with a truckload of metaphorical meanings to munch on. [Sometimes I love alliteration - most times really except when I get embarrassed by my childishness].
I trusted my watch, so I reset the clocks. I am dazzled by the technology that told my computer to "spring forward", probably exactly at 2:00 a.m. I trust it's time totally.
A sundial is, of course, useless on a day like today, but my internal wake-up clock was quite dependable. I feel fettered by civilization knowing I need, I really do need, to know the time just to be a functioning member of society as I know it. These are gray day kinds of thoughts; if it were bright and sunny I wouldn't mutter and mumble about metaphors to ignore or contemplate. I'd feel like springing forward somewhere out of doors.
AT LAST MY OWN DAISY DOG - Ralph (the brown dog) with Daisy (my dog) playing at the park At last I have a dog. I have wanted one since my last dog Sal died. I found her through the...
12 hours ago