It’s slightly cooler as I take my favorite seat on my back porch, an old rocker that squeaks and skreiches as I rock back and forth, early this morning. I am slightly a little earlier than usual this morning as the clock on my wall says it’s seven-thirty and my body tells me it’s eight-thirty just as it should be. It takes my body, especially my mind, time to catch up to the new “daylight savings time” as I run on the notion of no change.
In the spring, spring forward, and in the fall, fall back, I have some difficulties in adjusting my internal clock. I’m ready for bed by seven and ready to rise by six. Did you know it’s dark at seven and still dark at six in the morning? My internal clock is so confused. We are eating supper at five thirty instead of six thirty so then I would want to eat again if I stayed up past seven!
Our little JOJO has been staying with us while her daddy has been sick, and she is a ‘night owl’ but she is asking me to go to bed by seven thirty which means she’s up by six or six thirty. I need HER extra hour or two of sleep.
I’ve written before time change is not easy for anybody. Your entire ordinary way of life is turned unordinary inside out. It seems that now I have another predicament with the earlier darkness. I cannot see how to drive during the nighttime. Wherever I am I have to watch the time like a vampire and make sure I am back to my “crypt” before it’s too black outside.
And I believe the saddest thing about this new time is me trying to figure out how to change the time on my household appliances, the microwave, the oven, the ice maker, and my car radio. Really, I’ve just stopped worrying about the things showing the hour difference because sooner or later, in March, it will be right again!
But back to my coffee and porch sitting, I love it even in the chill of the morning. I’ll just grab that fuzzy blanket and a little bit of hotter coffee and listen to the birds sing, geese squawk on the lake, and the big John Deere crank and blow smoke as it slowly lopes off toward the wet grasses to feed our beautiful black cows. So, the only thing I can see good about the new time is that, in my mind I gained an hour to just sit and ponder.
There’s nothing I like better than fried cabbage and crunchy cornbread.
FRIED CABBAGE – 2 Tablespoons of butter melted into 15 ounces of chicken broth, 1 head of cabbage cored and course-chopped. Salt and pepper
Bring broth and butter to a boil and add cabbage. Cook about 45 minutes at low heat until soft and tender. I also like to add a sweet, chopped onion.
