Clock Change 1
“I’m confused. I’m not sure how to change the time,” my Mom says.
I look at my clock. 17:15. Outside clouds hover over the lake. She has told me that the lake behind her house in Florida is bigger, maybe as big as mine. I don’t contradict her. Her lake will never be Lake Lehman in Geneva. “It should be 11:15 your time,” I tell her.
When her bedroom clock is correct, I suggest she change the other clocks, or wait until Mary her caretaker arrives to help. She decides to wait.
“The tree hasn’t fallen on my house yet.” She is worried about the tree, but as I remember it is not close enough to the house to hurt it.
“Your husband, no your father bought it when we first moved. I told him to get a tiny tree and he did. It grew.” In thirty years it should be bigger.
“The tree will be fine,” I tell her.
“Your daughter sent me a card. From Scotland. Hold on.” She gets the card and reads it to me several times. She loves my daughter. The card has brought her great happiness.
When we hang up I want to cry.
Clock Change 2
My clock reads 8:42. It is really 7:42. The time change mechanism doesn’t work, but I don’t mind it being wrong half the year. The radio still works. I listen to NRG (The French letters are pronounced energy).
I pick up my book to read a chapter before starting the day.
I snuggle under the warm duvet.
Autumn: my favourite time of year as we hurtle toward the winter solstice. I appreciate the warm bed especially after I get up to let out Munchkin or make a morning run to the toilet, knowing I do not have to get up permanently.
As the days get shorter, the house gets cozier. But outside there are the wonderful smells of fallen leaves (not quite as colourful as their New England counterparts, but pretty nevertheless) that are good for kicking as I walk down the street. The ones to be raked, maybe a little less appealing, and the acorns bonking me on the head as I sweep up their brothers and sisters, strike me as cheeky at best.
As the French say, Je suis bien dans ma peau. I feel good.
Sunday, November 06, 2011
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