Florida is the Lightning capital of the United States. I live in north central Florida, and I say this is the truth. Lightning can flash any time during the year, but summer is his playground.
Normally, Lightning gets his crackling on when a storm is brewing. Occasionally a bolt followed by thunderous noises surprises me while I am on a walk. Lightning’s pyrotechnics beat anything I’ve ever heard or seen on Independence Day. (Except maybe the year we watched fireworks with several drunk people behind us commenting on the display.)
When a rambunctious storm comes through, nine out of ten times it takes our electricity for a ride on the wind. It meddles with our internet access as it rolls through – I save my work often. Sometimes the blackout lasts for a few seconds and other times for an hour or more. And most of our appliances have a clock that needs to be reset after.
My method of resetting the clocks is casual because I run on “ish” time. You know, right? Husband: “What time do you want to leave to go shopping?” Me: Oh, nine-ish. That means somewhere between 8:45 and 9:15. “Ish.” So I go for a ballpark figure when resetting the clocks. It works for me.
However, it made my OCD accountant husband wild. He complained that he never knew what time it was because every clock had a different time. Bless his heart. None of them were off more than five minutes fast or slow for Pete’s sake.
One day I came back from a trip to the goat farm to discover that he had gone through the house and reset every clock. Including the one in my office. The one that I deliberately keep 15 to 20 minutes ahead so I have a bit of a cushion in case I lose track of time while I’m writing. We had words over that one, I can assure you. He did not win. (Yes, I do remember it is ahead, but don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it.)
As summer has passed, the clocks are again reaching a stage of “ish”. Even the battery operated ones. And I’m not even going to bring it up.
So, how do you relate to time?