Untethered

One of the best parts about our move to the county is our ability to untether ourselves from the clock. Most days, I have only a general idea of the time and that is based on the sky or my stomach. If the new day's sun is slanting through our bedroom window, it is time for me to wake up. If it is pitch black out, then I think about going to bed. When my stomach grumbles, it is time to satisfy it with a meal. Lunch may happen at 2 p.m. and dinner at 9 p.m. So what?

We, in fact, have only one clock in our entire house. Guests often complain comment about not having an alarm clock in the cottage, but I just tell them that is part of the Farm Dover experience.

By not being tied to the clock, I can start a project and, if I feel like it, I can finish it. It's not a race. I don't have to multitask.

This was not always the case. In my old life in the city, I'd hit the ground running, multitask all day and night and still not get half the things on my list done. I'd look at the clock and realize I had 15 minutes to get over to school to pick up one or more child and if I made all the green lights, I could make one stop on the way -- not the three errands I needed to check off my list, all of which were en route. Those would have to wait until the clock told me I had enough time.

This whole silly concept of "springing forward" and "falling back" I could never fully grasp. And, twice a year when those events happened, I'd be thrown off kilter for at least a week. Now, I  may get around to changing our one clock, but if I don't, it really doesn't matter. I'll get up with the sun and so what if the clock says it's 7 a.m. or 8 am?