Clocks

After 31 years and two months the carriage clock on the mantlepiece has stopped. Changing clocks back an hour every October has never been my favourite pastime. I hate dark mornings and dark evenings in equal measure and today, whilst altering the cloc,k that was a wedding present from Charlie and June, it stopped and cannot be persuaded to revive. I find myself disproportionately anxious and cross when things do not work and the clock stopping was quickly followed by the printer deciding not to print - again. Patience won on this occasion and the recipe for apple chutney has now printed - twice. Back to clocks. The gap had to be replaced and a search revealled a pleasant carriage clock which would not look amiss. A previously undiscovered plaque on its back identified that it had been given to my mother as a retirement present by the children at the school where she taught for many years. It seems appropriate that it should replace the defunct wedding present. A further clock, with a clearer face, was then brought back to life with a new battery and that is now alongside the Wedgwood box which was always kept in my parents' bedroom and is now in my sitting room. The box has a chipped lid and I never recall it being in perfect condition. I imagine that it was meant for keeping "trinkets". We don't talk about trinkets any more but it is a lovely word. I imagine that my son would have loved that word as a child. Some words are quite delightful: delicate, delightful, squashy, bubbling,juxtaposition. Changing the clocks as a term only brings thoughts of frustration that, yet again, I did not make a note last year about how to change the time on the range, the microwave, the boiler. I actually don't think that the microwave has ever had the correct time but does it matter? I understand that in Russia they are staying on summer time. As someone about to fly across a number of time zones I wonder why it all seems so complicated.