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British Summer Time
Mar. 29th, 2009 12:04 pmI got so carried away putting all the clocks forward yesterday evening that I advanced one of them two hours. Fortunately it wasn't the bedroom alarm clock.
I don't know why we keep on with British Summer Time. Well, actually, I do. It's because we're lazy. It's an inconvenience to have to mess with the clocks twice a year but not not such a huge incovenience as it would be (to our legislators) to change things round. It's like (another topic in the news) the law that says a royal princess can only inherit the crown if there aren't any royal princes about. We're all pretty much agreed that this is foolish and out of date- and it's fun to chat, chat, chat about it- but when it comes to actually making the change- with all the consultation and law-making involved- we simply can't be arsed.
At least this morning was a lovely bright morning- and it didn't feel like too much of an imposition to get up early to get ready for church. The guy who was my successor at St Anne's was the visiting priest. I still don't think he knows who I am- and, frankly, I don't care. When I first started going it was all about me- and my precious faith or lack of it- but it isn't any more- thank goodness.
I don't know why we keep on with British Summer Time. Well, actually, I do. It's because we're lazy. It's an inconvenience to have to mess with the clocks twice a year but not not such a huge incovenience as it would be (to our legislators) to change things round. It's like (another topic in the news) the law that says a royal princess can only inherit the crown if there aren't any royal princes about. We're all pretty much agreed that this is foolish and out of date- and it's fun to chat, chat, chat about it- but when it comes to actually making the change- with all the consultation and law-making involved- we simply can't be arsed.
At least this morning was a lovely bright morning- and it didn't feel like too much of an imposition to get up early to get ready for church. The guy who was my successor at St Anne's was the visiting priest. I still don't think he knows who I am- and, frankly, I don't care. When I first started going it was all about me- and my precious faith or lack of it- but it isn't any more- thank goodness.
