Horing Around

It’s official–I am a hor. And no, that’s not a spelling error, and no, I didn’t hit my 60th birthday and decide to use my feminine wiles on an unsuspecting and soon-to-be appalled clientele–no, ‘hor’ is short for horologist. And what is a horologist? I hear you ask. Has Mydangblog suddenly earned a certification in the art of telling people that a random constellation assigned to their birth defines their character, and that I’ve started providing daily reports about very specific things that will happen to them–and the millions of other people also born in that month? Of course not–that would be insane. But I AM crazy–crazy for clocks. And if you know anything about me at all, you know that I’m obsessed with clocks. I have OCD, and I find great comfort in being surrounded by clocks, not sure why, because all the explanations on the interweb don’t seem to apply to me–I don’t have a fear of time passing, I don’t obsessively check the time, and I don’t compulsively count things. (I DO have what’s known as ‘magical thinking’ about clocks, but it only applies to the digital number 3:33, because at 3:33, the clock in our bedroom, which projects onto the ceiling, looks like 3 spaceships having a battle, and if I wake up in the middle of the night, it’s usually around 3:30, so I wait until 3:33 to see the space battle, whisper Pew Pew! to myself, and it puts me back to sleep.)

At any rate, at last count, I have over 56 clocks scattered around the house, and only about a tenth of them actually keep time. But lately, I’ve had a run of luck.

First, if you recall, there was the antique mantel clock that I retrofitted with a battery pack–it runs like a dream and is currently sitting in pride of place in my bathroom. Then, 3 weeks ago, I came across a beautiful gingerbread clock at Value Village for only twenty dollars. It didn’t work, so I was planning on selling it in my antiques booth as ‘clock decor’. It was taking up room on the kitchen island so I brought it into the dining room. It stayed on the dining room table, dormant as a bear in winter, until I needed to clear the table. I put it at the back of the sideboard. A little while later, I could hear a faint sound, a sound that was both exhilarating and soothing at the same time. I approached carefully–the gingerbread clock was RUNNING!

Me: Ken!! Ken!! The clock is working!
Ken: What clock?
Me: Don’t come any closer! Tiptoe!

Of course, Ken completely disregarded my instructions and clunked his way into the dining room, but it was fine–the clock didn’t even seem to notice, and kept right on ticking. A few minutes later, it began to chime.

Ken: Is it really 8 o’clock already? It doesn’t seem that dark out…
Me: Shhh. Just give it some…time, hehe.

Despite my best efforts, the gingerbread clock loses about 20 minutes an hour, and chimes out random numbers, but that’s just fine because I GOT IT TO WORK.

And then, a few days ago, I was at the Mennonite Thrift Store (Mennonites dress like the American Amish, but they have cars and cellphones), and right by the till, there was an antique Sessions clock, just sitting there, as though it was waiting for me. It was very cheap, and there was a sign on it that said, “Pendulum package and key inside.” So I bought it, because who doesn’t need another clock, especially one that’s almost 150 years old?

I got it home and set it on the counter. It seemed to be a little overwound, so I took the back off and manually started the pendulum. I did this several times. Suddenly, the pendulum continued to sway back and forth, and the next thing I knew, the clock was chiming–and not only was it chiming, it was keeping THE CORRECT TIME. I kept it on the counter for two days, where it continued to keep perfect time. Then, Ken and I went out grocery shopping, and when we came back, IT HAD STOPPED. I almost cried. But I was never one to give up–I moved it to the dining room, the scene of my last success, and kept manually trying to restart it. Finally, I sprayed the innards with WD40–EUREKA. And now it sits on the dining room table, and we all tiptoe around it, and I’m scared to move it in case it stops again. Temperamental little b*tch. But it keeps perfect time.

And you’re probably now thinking, Isn’t this supposed to be a humour blog? This isn’t that funny, her going on about some stupid clock. But it IS funny. Because I’m a hor. A hor for clocks.

39 thoughts on “Horing Around”

  2. I like watches more than clocks and have five different ones that I alternate depending on occasion or clothing. People say that you can only wear one at a time but I bet they have more than one coat. QED.
    I used to live round the corner from this place but never actually got around to going inside: British Horological Institute – Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Horological_Institute
    I think it’s your kind of place 😉

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  4. barbaramullenix's avatar barbaramullenix says:

    I think collecting clocks is a fine obsession and charming. As long as they don’t all chime at the same time. Of course, you’d never know if someone put a bomb in your home….

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  5. This was hilarious and also made me slightly insecure because I’ve only got six clocks around me at the moment…no, wait, seven. Two are ticking in perfect synchronicity. Anyway I thought I liked clocks but fall far short of your collection. I also have a zodiac clock kit. The picture on the box looks amazing but I’m a little intimidated by it and have started and stopped building it several times. That’s the nice thing about clocks, though: there’s always a chance to start again.

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  10. I feel underclocked. We have but three clocks. One in the snug and two in the kitchen. The kitchen ones are built into the microwave and stove. Digital. One sits above the other and glow with blue numbers. I need to set them so they change time at the same time. Otherwise it drives me nuts and that’s already a very short path.

    The snug one works on a battery. Looks like a blue coffee cup. We bought it twenty years ago, when we moved to Ashland. It’s kept perfect time. When I’m alone in the office at night, I can hear it ticking. But only at night.

    We do have two other clocks. One is built into the sprinkler system in the garage. The other is built into the thermostat. Neither are at a convenient location, size, or lighting to casually check the time. Fortunately, I have that thing on my wrist.

    Cheers

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  14. Lovely wooden clock! hahahahahahaha I understand your obsession with collecting clocks sort of, I collected postcards. Since the beginning in college when people went away I would ask them to send me a postcard. It lasted until the 90s and petered out as people no longer wanted to bother with postcards. Until 2023 I had them all in binders. After I moved, I sorted them and kept my favorites. Then threw the rest out. My book club friends were shocked! Why not make a collage or something? Me smiling and thinking: “Yeah, right. where would I put that?”
    I wish you happy collecting! Always love your humor.

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  15. I love, LOVE that antique sessions clock. Also, it’s impressive that you’re able to get these clocks to run again, and that they DO run.

    We have a rectangular, mustard-yellow clock that we bought when we first got married, and the hands will not budge from 3:50 no matter what we do. We need to change the guts, I think, but I love it so much, I don’t mind that it doesn’t work.

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