DAY LIGHT SAVING

Now is the time of the year when some fool decided that we should advance our clocks so that we have to start our day an hour earlier. They call it daylight saving. I think it’s daylight robbery.

Personally I object to someone else telling me that I should get out of bed an hour earlier in the morning just so they can have an extra hour in the evening. It’s more time in the morning that I need.

If they have to interfere with the clock, why don’t they put it back an hour instead of forward. That way we’d get an extra hour in the morning, which is the best part of the day to relax, and what a bonus to find you are not in such a hurry after all.

The people who like daylight saving tell me they can’t see any difference in it. They don’t find it unnatural. But I do.

Time is a strange thing. If you’re living to a schedule you never find the day long enough. I don’t have a watch, but I always have a good idea of the time. But from this month I’ll be out of rhythm.

I’m by practice an early riser. I set my alarm for a bit before five o’clock in the morning. Now, under normal circumstances, I’m awake that few minutes before the alarm is due. I reach over and press the button before it goes off. When I get up, the dog is scratching at the back door; the canary is just starting to whistle, and the milkman has just left the milk. The sun rises with a smile.

Come day light saving, put the clock on an hour, set the alarm for a bit before five and instead of waking naturally I’m still asleep thinking it’s four o’clock when the alarm goes off. What a crook way to start a day.

Then I get out of bed, although I don’t seem ready for it, and instead of the dog being at the back door he’s still sleeping. The canary is asleep in a ball of feathers on its perch, and there’s no milk because the cows are still in the paddock. What a way to start a summer.

As I’ve said, time is natural. To alter it unnatural.

It’s funny then that shearers, the best workers in the world, are clock watchers. Back in the days of long runs, high tallies and low tax, I pulled into a shed in western Queensland.

After dropping the first sheep down the chute I looked at the clock, I discovered it only had one hand; the hour hand was missing. When I saw the contractor I said, “Frank, your clock’s broken.” He answered, “How do you mean the clock’s broken” ” It only has one hand.” “Listen mate, if you need two hands on a clock, you’ll never get a quid here.”

denis@milro.com.au