Friday, April 10, 2015

20150410.0659

The weather at Sherwood Cottage has decided to offer a reminder that it is yet spring. Temperatures were in the 30s Fahrenheit when I woke this morning, although the upper 30s, so that the floors were chilly and the air brisk. They should reach the 70s, which will be nice; the Mrs. should be able to open up the house later in the day. I will be at work, of course, teaching my classes and attending a meeting, and we will be running errands afterward, so I do not think I will be able to enjoy much of the nicer weather today. I got mine yesterday, though, as I wrote for freelancing, and I will get more of it tomorrow as I grade the stacks of papers that are mine to handle. Somehow, I will get things done.

Doing so is a matter of time and timing, and having reliable clocks helps in managing both. I like to have clocks in sight; my inner sense of time is somewhat erratic, so I rely on external indicators. Unfortunately, some of the clocks in Sherwood Cottage are tricksy, usually in that they run fast. The clock on the microwave, for example, picks up a minute every now and again. The microwave's plug gets jostled often enough, though, that the clock is reset perhaps every week, so the occasional minute gained goes away before it can cause too much trouble. (There are some people who could usefully follow its example.)

It is not alone, though, and it is far from the worst offender in the house. That is probably the clock in the back bedroom (currently a guest room, soon to be Ms. 8's bedroom--and it should have been already). That one has an interesting history. It found itself dangerously close to the litter boxes in the van my wife and mother-in-law drove from The City to Sherwood Cottage when the Mrs. and I relocated, and it suffered consequences thereof that should be obvious. I was inclined to dispose of it then, but the Mrs. decided to clean it and keep it instead, and I did not argue--but it went to the back room. There, it is supposed to automatically update itself; there is some kind of received transmission involved, I think. But it does not. It sits and gains time, making for quite the jarring experience for me on occasion. This morning, I thought it had passed seven when it had not. In the past, it has been a half-hour ahead--or more.

I am inclined to think the problem is in having been an unwilling cat-toilet. But I am steeped in science fiction and fantasy literature, and the thought occurs to me that perhaps the time in that room does run differently than in the rest of Sherwood Cottage. And if that is the case, I have to wonder what would happen if I left the room through the window instead of the door...

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