I recently had a birthday. I won’t say ‘celebrated’; ‘appreciated’ might be a better word. Seems that as you get older you approach birthdays with more caution than anticipation.
Little Bear’s birthday is the day after mine. Two birthdays. Twice loved. He’d been counting down the days for weeks. His birthday was most definitely a celebration: friends, presents, cookies, cake, attention. What more could a little boy ask for? Mine is more of a “Phew! Made it through another one!”
I do have a fondness for clocks though, if not for the passing of time. I don’t share that much. I once had a fondness for nutcrackers. That I did share and then every Christmas for years, that’s what I got. Nutcrackers. And more nutcrackers. Year after year. I vowed I’d never collect anything again. So I keep quiet about the clocks. Tick tock.
Time comes with so many interesting connections. But my favorite has to be the whole Alice thing. Whoosh, down the rabbit hole she goes where everything is topsy turvy and nothing makes sense and everything makes sense. “The hurrier I go the behinder I get!”
I bought myself a clock for my birthday. I’ve been eyeing it for months. $ 14.99. Not expensive but so very much a nonsensical purchase. That’s why I waited for my birthday. I can justify my foolishness … sort of.
It’s not a wind up. They probably cost an arm and a leg now. It’s battery powered, but I like the look of it and I love the colour. Such a pretty green.
Happy Birthday to me.
Tick tock.