Th'owd Case Clock...

....is a Lancashire dialect poem by Sam Fitton which includes the following lines:

"It stood i’ th’ corner, so I’m towd
When first I coom to live i’ th’ fowd
It stons theer yet, an’ neet an’ day.
It measures time an’ ticks away –
“Tick, tock; tick, tock".

And I am so pleased the Godfather asked me to find a home for his case clock now he has moved to set up home at Haslingden Hall. There is something rather splendid about its chimes and much to my surprise it does not provoke Teapot like the beeping breadmaker.

You may think Timelords and clocks have a certain empathy. And you would be right. There must be at least 7 clocks of various kinds in the Tardis and all tell a different time. Then there is my watch which has a mind of its own because it needs a new battery and I don't seem to find the time to go and buy one.

None of this really matters until those time critical events in the day.... the dash to the train to go to work and then to come home again.

Something in my DNA rebels against waiting for trains.... .....and even more so at the end of the day when the waiting is at that architectural masterpiece called New Street Station. I am sure people jump on the first train to appear at the platform never mind where it is going just to get out of the place.

So timing the point of departure from the Tardis in the morning or the power down of the laptop and the exit from 55 Colmore Row in the evening have been honed to a fine art over the years.

Entering the back entrance to the station and finding the previous train delayed by 5 minutes just so that I can catch it equals happiness, joy and delight. However if the train I'm trying to catch is delayed 10 minutes or more then misery and despair hangs over me as I wait for the tannoy to announce its approach usually when it is about 3 light years from the station. Time the great dictator.

If only I could remember how to fix the Tardis ........