Well, I have had a bit of a morning of it. No, I didn’t forget to turn the clocks back; no memory lapse resulted in me arriving an hour late for whatever I was going to – hang on, would I have arrived an hour late? Or would I have been early? I find it terribly confusing all this clocks-going-back-and-forth malarkey: I’ve got the hang of what happens and when, thanks to Mark’s little jingle ‘Spring forward and Fall back’, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what the consequences are. Do we get an extra hour or lose an hour? Let’s see; if I woke at what is now 5 am and thought it was 6 am because I hadn’t put the clocks back then I’d trot off for a service at 10.30 (my 10.30) and for everyone else it’d be 9.30 so that means……… I’d be early! Maybe I should think up another rhyme, such as ‘Spring late and Fall early’. That’d help.
This reminds me of the works of EF Benson, whom long-time readers may remember me mentioning a while back.
When British Summer time is brought in, one of the characters refuses to recognise it and so invitations to tea are worded: ‘Please come to tea at 3.30 (your 4.30)…’
Have I got that right? Would it be ‘4.30 (your 3.30)’?
Aaaaaaanyway, I eventually tumbled out of bed at 10, having had a lovely lie-in, and after breakfast I started on some serious pruning. There’s an awful lot of dead wood in the garden, so I had quite a time of it cutting back and clearing up; after which I decided it was time to put the garden furniture away. The chairs are not much of a problem, but the tables don’t easily fit in the alleyway; still I thought to myself, I’m sick of taking the legs off this table and putting them on again every summer. I’m sure if I just wiggle it a bit I can get it through.
Yep. You’ve guessed it – I got stuck. Then I had to take the bloody legs off…
NaNoWriMo next week, folks!
PS I just mistyped ‘pruning’ as ‘pruining’!