summer time

The sun in the window has a springtime quality today, the light promising warmth that is yet to come. After having dealt with the teeth and the other morning things, put on the white hoodie and the black trousers worn yesterday, there is no need to dress up for leaving the house today.

Read about the coronavirus and it's attendant disease, wonder if that will be the end. Egocentric thoughts, but it is the kind of thing that it might be good to be aware of. Britain's shock, Ireland's fecklessness, America's incapability, Italy's tragedy, Spain's disaster, France suffering, Germany waiting, and it will be worse long before it goes away, the tragedy is that each of these countries had a warning, there was a harbinger, a harbinger that was ignored.

There is the pricking of extended claws on the knees, the cat draws herself up and settles down. Put a hand on her head and rub it, elicit a deep purr, probably catspeak expressing contentment. Not a thing to be sure of, but she always does it, either incapable of learning or a habit enjoyed.

The wife is up, makes herself a cup of coffee.

She asks whether or not the clocks have been adjusted.

So adjust the two clocks in the sitting room, the Brillie horloge mêre and the clock from Le Havre with the mechanism by Leon Hatôt.

The time has now been set to summer time