This morning the clock stopped in my kitchen. It was ten to eight for three hours. I didn’t realise until ten fifteen pm.
Strange things happened. Baby Betsy, who had slept from eight pm until six thirty am before looking for a drink, continued to sleep. I woke her to feed at half ten. We had her three month check up. This took twenty minutes, drives included. We came home. She is still asleep.
I sat down with Weetabix at quarter to eight. (I can’t be sure!). Had the whole bowl. Peaceful. Joyful. Calm. Dare I risk more, I wondered ? Made blackcurrant and rhubarb tea. Drank. Sipped. SAVOURED. Had fuzzy warm feelings. Closed my eyes.Post dropping in the door made me jump at ten. I had slept! The magic pill that is rest! This is not an average day.
I first noticed the dormant clock when Mr Paper came for his tea break from milking cows. I was startled. Not that the clock stopped. Just by how much I must live my life by it. One look at the time in such a wrong position almost made me uncomfortable. This is the girl who once partied until dawn and laughed at routine. Gone! I am suddenly the white rabbit.
‘I’m late! I’m late! For a very important date! ‘
My mantra. I have all day at my finger tips. Yet the clock rules my day and happiness. It is nine am? Betsy should be asleep. Seven pm? What hasn’t Gigi had her bath? Twelve pm? Haven’t thought about lunch. More guilt! Life is the mad hatter’s tea party. This is not fun for me. I always hated that grinning cat.
Today however, the clock has stopped. I don’t believe that time has actually stood still. I don’t believe in Dr Who! There is no denying however that a spell has been cast. I was freed for a few hours from the pressures of time. In the domino effect that occurred, my family became liberated also. This white rabbit can relax.
The baby is smiling and cooing. I am rested and almost human, having satisfied several physiological needs that are usually touch and go in their consistency to be met. It is noon. I haven’t fixed the clock. Maybe I won’t!