November 1, 2020, 6:00 a.m. and I’m in our small kitchen frozen in time in a room stuck in the mid-1980’s with its oak cabinets and brass hinges, limited counter space, drawers that stick, tile backsplash that might be kindly termed retro if it weren’t for the greyed grout that shouts “old”. Three clocks glow different digital shades of lime green, turquoise, and amber. The wall clock ticks – another 1980’s relic. It’s my favourite. I loved the ‘80’s.
Time to fall back and I resist. I think about not changing the clocks because what does it matter? We’re not going anywhere. No one is keeping tabs on our deliverables – we gave that up with work, thank god. Our deliverables now are time for coffee, time for breakfast, time to walk the dog. Frankly, the dog is as good a clock as we need. His whimpers and clicking toenails as he paces the wood floor urge us out of bed in the morning or demand feeding. His soulful stares at the front door tell us its walk time. What else do we need to know?
Lately I’ve become more like the dog anyway, tending to my bodily functions although both my spine and upbringing prevent me from gnawing on my feet or, you know, licking myself clean. Like our mutt, I stretch frequently – down-dogs, up-dogs, the cobra, the corpse – nap a bit, stare out the living room window. It’s a good life in which the clock is irrelevant, possibly even an irritant.
I watch the analog clock’s stiff, one-legged second hand click around in circles, a lurching Frankenstein, around and around and around going nowhere and noisy, to boot, in its lack of progress. Fake time. But then isn’t all time fake? Those coloured digital numbers are fake too. They might as well be purple or pink. Damn it, colour them any shade you like – it’s your time! But at least its silent though don’t be fooled: it’s a silent killer, like CO2.
Ticked off time is my preference, like a list – there, that’s done. I like the sound of time like church bells, the birthday song, the town clock gonging Westminster chimes, or best of all, cuckoo time because that’s where I am, maybe where we all are.
I’m still in the kitchen, one hand on the microwave tinkering with numbers, coordinating time and deciding whether it should read the same as the analog but that’s impossible because the analog is the kind with only four numbers – 12, 3, 6, and 9 – and impossible to tell the exact time. Anyway, as soon as I set the microwave’s clock to 6:09, the stove clock changes to 6:10 and the clock radio to 6:13. I could keep working on concordance but that seems like wasting time, eh?
So, that’s where I am – contemplating timelessness and howling with the dog at the setting moon beaming through the window.
Beautiful post and sentiment. I’d like to be more like my dog too. Your third photo is simply gorgeous and as Canada as it gets (as if I was ever there).
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Time is an illusion…lunchtime doubly so. I do the same thing with clocks. The lounge room clock is a minute and a half fast (it’s analogue) the clock radio in the bedroom is 3 minutes fast, and my watch is one minute fast. I hate being late and would rather be half an hour early and have to sit around and wait. But still…it’s better to be late than be The Late.
I love your photos, Susanne, especially #3 😀
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Good one, Lyn – “Better to be late than The Late.”
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I loved this Susanne, an insightful meditation on time. I sometimes fantasise about going away to a cottage in the middle of nowhere and living only by the times of light and darkness, but alas, I’m beholden to ‘normal’ time for the moment…
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What a wonderful fantasy – I think you’re not alone in this wish. The clock runs us all ragged!
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Timely for the times, Susanne. For any time, really. And I appreciate the time you’ve taken to put into words something so elusive and illusory. It speaks to me on many levels…as does everything you write. Be well, S 🙂
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Thanks, Donna. I’m always, always glad to hear from you.
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Oh Susanne – your timing to post this blog is sweet. Thank you.
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I have all the time in the world for such posts. Why has it become so hard to wrangle the clock of late? Oh yes. That damn pandemic.
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I love this meditation on time. It’s our hubris that we can arbitrarily pick a time and say, “There now.” When there are so many more ways to measure time than on the clock. Thank you for this. I have enjoyed your essays soooooo much lately.
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What a kind comment, Ellen. I feel like the blog is foundering of late so it’s nice to hear that you like what you read here.
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I really enjoyed this meditation!
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Thank you, Ellen. It kind of walks the line between meditation and rant which is how the mind works at 6:30 in the morning.
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Leave it to you to have a soulful response to the changing of the clocks … a process that often feels like a solemn medieval ceremony.
I loved the phrase “don’t be fooled: it’s a silent killer”. Ain’t that the truth. As you’ve discovered, retirement means that we can now largely live our lives dismissive of the clock … and yes, afternoon naps are the best 🙂
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I love it – a solemn medieval ceremony. Suddenly I’m picturing that scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail where the monks are chanting and whacking themselves on the head. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4q6eaLn2mY
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🤣🤣🤣
… especially when later in the day you encounter a clock that hasn’t been changed then throw yourself into a panic because you think it’s later than it really is. Let’s see, how many times did that happen to me on Sunday ….?
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Beautiful writing and photography. I seriously contemplated not changing the clocks for similar reasons.
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I’m glad you liked my fall photos, Derrick. The only reason I changed them was because of various appointments that must be kept, otherwise I’d have gone with the dog clock.
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What a beautiful place to be and I resonate with your pondering. Time has a whole new meaning in this post career, locked down time.
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Let’s call time “elastic”. It stretches until it snaps – like us!
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Good one!
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Look at those glorious colors! Beautiful.
Hopefully the members’ bill to abolish DST that is before parliament will be passed. This could be the last time we need to worry about coordinating all of the clocks on our walls and appliances.
Like you, we don’t need clocks. The cats keep good track of “treat time” and “run around like maniacs time” and “time to wake up, you lazy bums, time.”
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Bless our pets for keeping track of life for us. And here’s to one time year round!
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I’m guessing you’ll find a way to fill the bonus hour you just received. And don’t even think about the day coming all too soon when you’ll have to give it back. [smile]
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The bonus hour is a bogus construct. As a retired person, I am living the bonus life right now, 24 hours a day and the only thing that will take it away is the day I die. Fingers crossed that’s none too soon since I finally feel like I just got started on life.
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Loved this one, Susanne – so “relatable” in many levels…especially the dog’s ability to keep time with his clicking toenails and whimpering. One of my dogs wakes me every morning to that same clock. I see falling back is going to be a real bummer.
Your photos were gorgeous, too – O Canada.
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Oh Ottawa! While not the most beautiful city in Canada (that award goes, in my opinion, to Victoria, Vancouver, or Quebec City), we do have our charms, especially in the fall. And that old devil time sure keeps us on our toes. One day this week I think I’ll try getting thru the day w/out checking the clock and live simply by the light of the day, how the old bones feel and what I want to do.
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Yes and of course, what your dog expects you to do. Sounds like a great plan!
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I took the time to read this twice and in doing so was twofold rewarded with, “Ticked off time is my preference, like a list – there, that’s done.” And accompanying fine Autumn snapshots to boot.
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Ha! Glad you commented on that line because I laughed when I wrote it. The photos are all local to Ottawa taken on my walks or kayaking with my husband. Its amazing what we see inside the city limits.
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I love your thoughts on time. It is an illusion and we all know it but keep time anyway. I hate the spring forward, fall back. My body takes weeks to get the swing of it. Waking at 2 a.m. this morning or is it 3? I struggle hoping to find a bit more sleep. Didn’t happen. By the time everyone else is awake, I’ve had a full day and a pot of coffee. I would love your view and a dog to walk. Don’t ask. ;( Your photos are stunning and so is retirement. But time…I never have enough of it. You post made me feel so well rested though. Thanks.
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This modern concept of time didn’t really get going until the industrial revolution and people began working off the farm in factories and the old “time is money” creed took over. By the time we reach retirement we’ve been so thoroughly indoctrinated that its hard to break out of that pattern even when it comes to sleep. I’ve discovered that without an alarm clock or the imperative to get to work by a certain time, that I don’t get as distressed about waking up in the wee hours. Sometimes I’ll get up and putter in the dark or read and then go back to bed. Or if I’m really tired in the day, I just take a nap for 20 minutes. I’m also adamant about not overscheduling myself and I absolutely give myself time to write above all else. I find when I’m creative, I lose the sense of time passing which is nothing short of a miracle!
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I need to take your last paragraph more to heart. My naps tend to be a full hour. I’m going on 4.5 right now and have company coming. (Sis) I’ve written my morning pages and done many chores as well as a walk at daylight. No time table just always a too long to-do list. I create it myself so I need to find more balance. More time to write is becoming more essential. Thanks for your input. It’s appreciated.
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