Broken Clocks . . .

There are a million ways to tell time. Some wear watches. Some carry "smart" phones and, like true dummies, look at them 1,000 times a day. Some are constantly scanning the room for a time piece, some wait until they pass by the bank.

Others still just scream out "What time is it?" and wait for someone within ear shot to look at their watch, smart phone, or time piece outside the bank and tell them. The lucky few have some innate, inborn sense of time that just sort of lets them "know" what time it is at any given moment.

I would like to enter, for your consideration, one final way to tell time . . . a broken clock. No. No. NOT in the sense of "Even a broken clock is right two times a day" but in the sense of an actual broken clock in the new house.

There is a lovely, old clock sitting on the counter in the nook where we eat our breakfast and dinners and where we sit to chat, do homework, blog, and write notes and checks to pay bills. It is a fantastic old clock and there is just one thing wrong with it - it needs to be rewired. Probably a few days at a clock shop and a handful of dollars and we have a lovely, old working clock sitting on the counter.

Yet - here we are - sixty full days later and years since the first time I ever laid eyes on the clock and it is still broken. It is probably time I get it fixed.