This I can't imagine. How could anyone ever dislike having an extra hour added to their day?!
Yet Hubby still declares to me twice a year that it is preposterous that America has adopted such an idea as to adjust our clocks to fit in accordance with the seasons.* In fact, early in our marriage I distinctly remember his standpoint and my urge to challenge him leading into a wham bang drag out argument.
*Note: There are more reasons and Hubby would probably have my neck for simplifying it to such a basic point. Unfortunately, this is the way my mind summed up his issue.
One hour, even as an adult, can be like a million years. The freedom and possibilities that lie within one hours are endless. Somehow the knowledge of that one extra hour made this weekend more glorious and noteworthy for me than ordinary 48 hour weekends.*
*Second Note: My weekend really begins around 5:00 on Friday. In my mind, the weekend is truly 55 hours long, but for argument's sake, I wrote 48. Whew, glad we cleared that up.
I zoomed from work to home to Hubby's work on Friday night to pick him up. From there we headed back to that famous highway that I recently wrote about to go to a wedding of one of Hubby's coworkers. In my mind, this was the start of the loss of my extra hour. The wedding started at 6:30 pm and the reception would go until midnight. This left the certainty that we would not arrive home until at least 1:30 am.
We pulled up to High Lawn Pavilion in West Orange, NJ and everything changed when I saw this:
We pulled up to High Lawn Pavilion in West Orange, NJ and everything changed when I saw this:
Instantly I regretted not being in the habit of carrying my DSLR on my person at all times. Yet, it would have been quite impossible to squeeze it into the little clutch I had brought along that night. I was left with a smart phone picture of the breathtaking view of one of my favorite places.
If it hadn't been so cold out, I would have stood and enjoyed the view deep into the night. But it was cold and Hubby had friends waiting inside, so we walked away--translated: Hubby dragged me away.
From the start of the wedding, to the cocktail hour, to dinner, and even, gasp, dancing* I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
*Dancing ordinarily isn't my thing. Ordinarily as in never.
The bride was gorgeous, and the love between her family and her new family was strongly represented.
I had such a good time, that I actually lost track of time and didn't mind the fact that I was still up at 11:30 pm and over 50 miles from home.
Does this picture make anyone else want to start singing Eiffel 65's "I'm Blue". Da boo dee da boo die?
With this late night start to my weekend, one would imagine that I would spend my extra hour on Saturday recuperating. Unfortunately, Saturday mornings do not lend extra sleep time for me since I teach piano lessons bright and early.
Somehow, I managed to find enough sleep, teach my lessons, and still be in a decent mood by the afternoon.
Because of a series of boring reasons and events, Hubby's car was at work and we needed to get it before the weekend ended. After giving me a variety of options for how and when we could get the car, I told Hubby the best choice was to go shopping fifteen minutes north of his work at the Jersey Gardens Mall and then get his car on the way home.
Shopping is always the best option to make a long trip worthwhile.
Even at this point, I only thought I was spending my extra hour shopping at the mall. But before I knew it, it was 8:00 pm (really 7:00 pm) and I was back at home. We had a quick bite to eat, then decided to go back out shopping because apparently we hadn't already had enough.
Our next shopping trip wasn't for ourselves. At least, it didn't start that way. Somehow a few things for me found their way into our basket.
Our church is participating in Samaritan's Purse: Operation Christmas Child. Hubby and I decided to put together two boxes, one for a boy and one for a girl. It was fun picking out little gifts to bless someone else this Christmas.
Saturday night I found myself in bed at my normal Saturday night time (irregardless of Daylight Savings Time) and Sunday morning, when Daylight Savings actually occurs, I woke up at my normal time. When I turned over I was met face to face with a tray filled with breakfast delights that Hubby had prepared for me.
Looks like the extra hour gave him something extra to do as well.
Of course, I was half way through my eggs before I thought to take a picture of Hubby's thoughtful surprise.
Sunday afternoon, I was still left with time on my hands. Hubby asked me to sew a button on a jacket he planned to take on a business trip this week.
What started with just this:
turned into this:
and then this:
The moral of this nonsensically long post is that one hour extra provided by Daylight Savings Time isn't just an hour. It is a world of possibilities for things that can be done and accomplished if faced with the right attitude.
I wonder if I'll feel the same around March, 2014.
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