Daylight Savings Time
I was taking Hal on his morning walk, and when I got outside, the sun was on. I know that you don’t “turn on” the sun like you do the lights in an apartment, but it was so bright for that hour of the morning. As I’ve mentioned before, for the past several weeks, we’ve been meeting the sun as it peeks out across the river. Then one morning I walk out, and it’s practically overhead!
I said to Hal, “What gives? We’re not late.” He told me that we changed from Daylight Savings Time to Standard Time. The more he talked the sillier it became. One day you call a particular hour “7” and the next day you call the same hour “6”. I don’t know why people bother numbering hours.
I’ve never worn a watch. This is not, as some people will assume, because I can’t tell time. I’ll pit my internal clock against your Rolex any day of the week and twice on Sunday! (What does that mean, anyway?) Ask me what time it is. It’s now. Ask again in 47 minutes, it’s now. Get it? No matter what time it is, it’s always now. Sometimes “now” is naptime. Okay, most of the time it’s naptime. And, most of the time that it is not naptime, I’m hoping it’s mealtime. Sometimes, it had better be mealtime, if you know what I mean.
I never should have mentioned mealtime- now I’m hungry. Wow! “Now” I’m hungry. When is treat time? You guessed it! It’s Now!
