Or the return to “normal” time.
Ah the preciousness of those 60 minutes
once a year: I awoke promptly at 8:00 this morning then recalled – hey it’s
only 7:00 actually!
An hour later I finally put my book down,
snoozed a bit more then started my finally-a-calm-Sunday routine, ie. A bread
pretzel (Bretzel to those in the know), peanut butter and orange marmalade (that
is often a berry jelly) and pressed coffee (and no that doesn’t mean that I
pressed coffee beans then poured water over them – a “French Press”).
After which if I looked at one clock it was
almost 10, but if I chose to look at another only 9.
I love living like a schizophrenic for one
day. As in order to get the full benefit of that extra hour I resist changes
the few clocks that aren’t radio controlled until just before going to bed on
Sunday night. A free hour on Monday is always worth more than on Sunday!
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| Jon Tyson on Unsplash |
And due to recent discussions in Brussels I
live in the hope that come Spring I will no longer have to “spring forward”. I’ll
keep my hour thank you.
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