Chapter 49
Sometime a good many years ago someone came up with the ingenious idea that we could play with our clocks in the spring of year and have all these wonderful leisure LIGHT hours at the end of our working days.
That way we could stay up to midnight when dusk finally began to settle, doing all those wonderful things we like to do so much—like mowing the lawn, mopping the kitchen floor, and cleaning the oven.
This week is when we get to reclaim that floating hour that got snatched away from us last spring.
Spring? Remember back before the LONG, hot summer baked our brains to the burnt stage.
Way back there, six months or so—yeah, that’s the time!
When we FORGOT to spring ahead an hour and walked into church just as they were singing the FINAL hymn!
I, for me, am fully well anxious to claim the hour. It’s the only time I can legally turn back the hands of the clock and delay time! I always imagine I’m at least an HOUR younger when I look in the mirror!!!
I expect I will appreciate the extra hour when it gets here but I sure could’ve used it THIS week rather than Saturday night. I know exactly what I would do with it, too!! Laundry!!
We were gone last week, and I may have to borrow the neighbor’s hip boots to wade through the dirty clothes so I can find the washing machine. I know it’s there in the utility room somewhere because I saw it there just before we left.
Four days was only a few minutes short of forever after ALL the laundry was unloaded from the car when we returned.
Either we were the cleanest family at the convention or the dirtiest. I’m not quite sure.
But I am sure of a few things—we have to replace the handle in the scoop shovel buy a dump truck load of detergent.
Our utility room looks like a loading dock for the New York City Goodwill stores.
Times like these make me glad we decided nine kids was a few too many and settled on a mere small family of three. I’m even extra thankful none of those three was twins!!
By Saturday, I suppose I will need the extra hours’ sleep.
But I’ll probably lay awake worrying about what I’m going to do with the kids being in the house all evening because it’s dark in the middle of the afternoon.
Then when I do get to sleep, I’ll dream about it snowing dirty laundry…
it’s a good thing they don’t fiddle around with more than an hour—we’d all be in a state of nervous exhaustion.