The Weirdness About Clocks

Remembering back to my childhood is not something I do easily nor well. Because of the injury or at least so I am told, I remember very little about my early life. Many of my memories are really just recordings of stories other people have told me. The few things I do remember are mostly sounds, tactile sensations and smells. The events were secondary to me. I remember clocks because I loved hearing the chimes and the tics and tocs. We had a mantle clock when I was a child but my mother hated it, and never would allow it to be wound. Eventually it just disappeared from the household. Mom had a grudge against time and refused to listen to any device that would measure it. Later in her life when she became obsessed with the acquisition of jewellery, she collected beautiful wrist-watches but she never wore the ones that ticked.

Oddly, I rarely wear a time piece and when I do its generally a pocket watch on a chain. I have a house full of clocks but keep only 4 wound to minimize the annoyance to others. It always seemed very silly to me to pretend to measure time.