Why changing the clocks may scupper your supper
Did you remember to put the clocks back?
At precisely 2am this morning, those who are anal about such things will have put the clocks back an hour and entered daylight saving time. Most of us would have done it before we went to bed or waited until we got up. Fortunately, it is not like fiddling your tax, and as long as you do it before your next scheduled appointment you will not be penalised for starting daylight saving too soon or using British summertime for too long. A few people however, will not realise the clocks have changed until they sit down this evening to watch Strictly Come Dancing. A smaller percentage still, will turn up for work an hour early on Monday.
Daylight saving time is now upon us and is a reminder that autumn has well and truly arrived.
Like women everywhere, Mother Nature is obsessed with changing the colour scheme and rearranging the furniture. By September, she would have grown tired of green and for a few weeks she experiments with a selection of reds and golds before deciding she is completely bored with leaves and throws them on the ground. This is fine for Children and old romantics to kick through, but usually ends in disappointment when the toe of a boot meets the inevitable hidden dog turd.
Autumn is a time of change, and everything is on the move. The summer birds have flown south, the winter species are arriving, and councils dutifully fill the gap between digging up holiday routes during the summer and gritting the paintwork of passing cars in winter by sending out teams of workmen with leaf blowers. For some reason, councils firmly believe that leaves are in need of some man-made intervention to scatter themselves about the streets.
An Englishman in the dark:
At this time of the year, the English obsession with the weather is joined by an overwhelming urge to discuss the hours of daylight as if the phenomena had never been experienced before. From August until Halloween, strangers at bus stops and old ladies in Post Office queues will invariably inform each other that the nights are drawing in and the days are getting shorter.
Ignoring the pedant who always appears at the slightest mention of this to shout about no day being any shorter than another, there is a more serious issue regarding the onset of autumn. Mealtimes.
As the nights draw in, the evenings get earlier and earlier, and eventually the evening happens in the afternoon. But, if the evening starts shortly after lunch, where has the afternoon gone? That must have been between elevenses and lunchtime, so you end up having lunch when the sun is in the teatime position. And so it goes on. For the duration of the autumn and winter, all your meals occur in various states of dusk and darkness.
So until the old ladies start to talk about ’the nights drawing out’ get used to tea at suppertime and supper as a glorified midnight feast.
No wonder people get so depressed in the winter. They don’t know when they are likely to get their next meal. Or what to call it.