"I wanna go home!"

  First off...do you ever talk to inanimate objects?  I do.  If you do, would you mind telling me if you get any replies?  Again, I do.  Maybe not so much in words or sounds but in feelings, I guess.  To me, if you really get to know an object...especially one that has been through some trauma...an odd sort of aura emanates from it and that aura speaks volumes.  At least, it "speaks" to me.  Yeah, there are those who claim that I am weird or eccentric and those are the kinder folks.  Ask others and you will get some more "elaborate" descriptions.  But, back to "talking" objects...

  About a year and a half ago, my dear friend had a most devastating event happen to her.  While she and a friend sat talking, lightning struck her house causing a huge fire.  They both managed to escape unharmed but her house was a total loss.  Only a few items were salvageable with one being a clock.  The poor clock did not go unscathed as the finish crackled and the clockworks itself was full of soot.  So...what better place to bring a clock for the duration than to the home of that weird friend who kinda/sorta fixes antique clocks.  I immediately cleaned and oiled the clock.  The outer case could not be remedied much without devaluing the worth so I simply used denatured alcohol to even some of the finish.  Now...the test...I gently swung the pendulum and the gorgeous clock started ticking!  It worked!  After all it had been through, the clock still ran smoothly! The clock has been here since.

  Several times, I moved the gorgeous clock to a different spot in my living room from my work table.  I figured it deserved a better spot.  Perhaps the buffet!  There it would be showcased as the beauty it is.  Nope, the clock immediately stopped working.  Well, perhaps on the coffee table!  That lasted just about ten minutes and no more.  Well, maybe the bookshelf!  The clock was not having it.  Nary a tick could be heard.  Out of desperation, I set it back on the center of the work table.  Tick, tick, tick...the clock did not miss a beat. So...I asked it why?  Why will you not work anywhere but this work table?  You deserve better, my friend.  Then, in soft silence other than the steady ticks came the answer.  "I wanna go home."  My heart broke.  The clock had let me know that the work table felt the closest to going back home where it belongs.  It needed to go back to the loving care of my beautiful friend.  All of the other locations, though comfortable, were not home.  The clock felt like those moves were permanent.  It needs to go home.

  So...the clock will go home...back to where it belongs.  Slowly I glided my hand across the sloping back of clock as I whispered..."Soon...soon, you will be back where you belong.  I promise...I promise."  Sometimes, objects murmur, but this time the clock spoke loud and clear.  

"Ye Olde Clock Shoppe"?

  Some of you may recall that a few years ago, I was hospitalized for a "possible" stroke.  Fortunately, nothing much came of it so things went on as normal...or, at least, as normal as possible.  For several months, I was restricted from doing much strenuous work and was confined to what I dubbed as being the "Small Gardens".  Those were the rambling gardens surrounding the house where I reigned as self-proclaimed "Queen".  (Boredom is a rough thing for someone like me.)  Both my youngest son and my daughter set a rather stiff regime of "dos" to go along with those "do nots".  I was to start with stretches and then do cardio exercises.  Darling Daughter is a speech pathologist so she sent over quite a number of worksheets for me to practice and both of them demanded that I "learn" something...anything...just learn.  So...at that point of their plan, I fired back that I was going to learn antique clock repair!  I was actually being a bit facetious.  The words came out of my mouth before I thought the matter through.  Why?  Simply because my mom's old mantel clock was sitting idle and that was the first thing I saw.  I never guessed that they would hold me to my flippant statement.  They did.  So, I am repairing clocks and now the living room greatly resembles a clock shop of old.

  Since Mom's mantel clock was the first thing I tackled (and repaired!), it only seemed appropriate that I would finally get around to fixing another of her clocks.  This tiny chain-driven timepiece never worked since she got it way back in the early 1960s.  Pop was doing handyman work to supplement the farm income and one of his clients asked him to clear out a storeroom and discard everything.  He asked if he could have the stuff and the owners readily agreed.  He was told that the clock was from the '20s and was from Germany.  So, that was the whole story behind the non-working clock. Several people tried to fix the clock for Mom but none could ever get it to running.  The clock was stowed away in the closet until it came home with me some 30 years later.  The wee clock hung on the wall here still in bad shape until this week when mouthy me decided to have a go at fixing it.  The case was broken, the pendulum was missing and the mechanism was so gummed up with some sort of blue gunk that nary a gear would turn.  It took 3 days to finally clean and then oil the clock. Borrowing a pendulum from another of my clocks, I found that it would indeed tick!  That pendulum was returned to its original clock and, instead of ordering a new pendulum just yet, I handcrafted one out of a popsicle stick and a wooden (bird) ornament.  I fully expected that to be a flub but it worked!  The clock has been ticking steadily for the past 5 hours and keeping relatively good time compared to the many other clocks nearby. I think Mom would be thrilled!

  While all this is fun and I am learning, it suddenly occurred to me that "Ye Olde Clock Shoppe" look is really taking hold of the living room.  It is quaint.  It is interesting.  It would drive most people crazy.  The rhythmic ticking, the outbursts of chimes, gongs and chirping and the cluttered walls is enough to send folks running.  Me? I find it soothing....and I am learning...something my kids keep encouraging.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained...

   A sweet friend made mention of the adage "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." and I found it quite fitting for my day's activities.  After doing the morning chores, I settled in taking apart my newest acquisition.  This clock was a whole lot different than any of the other clocks I had repaired and I was a bit nervous about tackling the job.  Still, if I am to learn the repair and servicing of antique or any keywind clocks, I had to make the attempt.  Nothing ventured, nothing gained...kept going through my head.  Plus, this clock was purchased for only $15 so I would not be out too much if I totally ruined the mechanism.

  The first step was to get to the clockworks then I would see what was keeping it from working.  The clock's pendulum was not swinging continuously.  I jumped in with both feet, dismantled the clock, cleaned each piece then reassembled it.  The clock was oiled properly and the pendulum crutch was adjusted.  Success!  It was sure nice to hear that steady ticking!  

  Folks, sometimes we just have to jump right in to face challenges.  The things that scare us the most can often teach us volumes.  That first step begins the path to a broadened awareness.  Just go for it and keep thinking "Nothing ventured, nothing gained!"  

The Little Lost Clock

   It is a known fact that I am not the most organized person in the whole world.  I do not feel the need to be.  When I leave this old earth, no one is going to have a clue where things are or even what some things are!  For years now, with the exception of this year due to health problems, I have been having a thing called "Clue Hunt on the Bayou".  I figure that my legacy will be the greatest clue hunt ever...finding where Mom put "this" or what is "that" and how is it to be used???   Great fun!  To be totally honest, I am a bit addlebrained and would rather go about doing what I like than clean house which is something I do not really like. As long as the place is "clean", it does not have to be uncluttered. There IS a difference. I also have no qualms about telling people to leave if my house is not to their liking.  I surely do not go inspect their homes.  It used to bother me how people were passive/aggressive about my maximalist habits and my inability to have a "neat as a pin" place.  "You will have more time!". "Your children do not want your stuff!"  "I read about something called flat surface syndrome."  "Have you ever watched the TV show about hoarders?"   You know what, folks???  Hush!  Just hush!  Don't like my mess, don't come here.  Simple fix. That said, occasionally, I do "lose" things.  Well, not exactly.  I do put things away and then forget where I put them.  Come to think about it, when I try to organize things, I lose them.  If I leave it out, I know where it is when I need it so maybe, in my own way, I have a bit of method in my madness or, at least, some madness in my method!

  After one of those clue hunts a few years back, I decided to organize some of the "really cool" items that I use as props.  "If I find proper places for everything, when I need it again, it will be easier to find."  Ha!  Did not happen.  As soon as something is out of sight, it is out of mind.  I lost them.  Oh, I knew they were in the Little Bayou House somewhere but where?  For two years, I have searched to no avail.

  One of the items that was "lost"...in my house...never to be seen again...after I organized it...was a clock.  How do you lose a clock??  Seriously...how do you lose a clock?  I did.  For two long years, the clock remained hidden from sight.  What brought it to mind is my sudden interest in repairing antique clocks.  The clock in question is a tiny cuckoo clock that has never worked as long as I remember it being in the family.  Mom loved this tiny clock but, since it does not have all the parts, it never worked.  I figure it would be a grand clock to tinker with now that I have an interest and lots of spare time.  So, I hunted.  I searched.  I racked the brain!  It was as if the clock had gone into hiding and refused to be found.  

  Until today...the clock was found today!  I am happy.  I am relieved.  I feel slightly embarrassed.  It seems that my organizing got the best of me.  The clock and several other long-lost items were found in a box on top of the china cabinet.  The box is ornate so it did not look out of place.  It was merely a "decoration" that I overlooked dozens of times in my clock search.  I do not remember packing the clock and other props so neatly in that box but I obviously did!  

  The truth be known, I was not even searching for the clock when it was found.  I was searching for a picture!  Son was helping me look when he asked if anything was in the box.  I shrugged my shoulders and told him he would have to look because I was not going  to climb on a chair to reach the top of the cabinet.  He did and said "Nope, no picture.  There is a clock, however."  A CLOCK!!!  Oh, my sweet little clock had come home!  I was beyond joyous!  Not only was the clock there but other treasures, as well!  

  Now that the clock has been found (and, yes, I did find the picture later), I had some deep pondering to do about the other treasures held within the Little Bayou House. Did I want to spend a year or so sorting, thinning and organizing all this stuff or should I just leave it and hope for the best.  I am sure you can guess the answer.  I told Son that he and his siblings have several choices of what to do with my treasures after I am finished with them.  They can call a thrift store and let them empty the place, they can put out a sign and have a huge rummage sale, or they can turn the place into a "House of Curiosities" and make a fortune!  It does not matter to me....the clock has been found.  I have to get to tinkering with it!  I have no time to sort stuff!

Questions...questions!!!

  For years now, Son and I have been joking about there being a ghost that lingers around the Bayou. Let a door slam unexpectedly and "The ghost did it!"  Let common items appear in strange places and "The ghost put them there!"  Let anything unexplained occur and "The ghost is having fun!"  That "ghost" seemed to be quite active, for a while or our imaginations were, at least.  Then again, there have been several "sightings" where someone has claimed "You really DO have a ghost! It is upstairs!"  There was even a series of "faces" that appeared on the wall upstairs with no explanation as to how they got there.   And...hand prints on the ceiling above the stairwell suddenly appeared. Those are some twenty feet up.  Oh, well.  Ghost or not, there are some rather unusual things that happen around here.

  For several years, my camera (no, I have not resorted to a phone for photographs) would turn itself on at the most unexpected times.  Sometimes, this would result in photographs of the wall, a chair or door depending on whichever way the camera was facing.  Son explained it away as the humidity wreaking havoc on the electronic parts inside the camera.  I claimed it was the "ghost"!  Our friendly ghost could turn on laptops, phones and even full sized desktop computers.  It is obviously very technological minded...more so than I am.

  Recently, however, our ghostie has been absent.  It has not been playing pranks on us.  There have been no odd noises, misplaced items or flying picture frames (yes, that did happen...twice.) Things have been relatively quiet.  I figured our friendly ghost had vacated the premises.  Then, suddenly, as if to say "Not so fast, lady!  I am still here!"  Things started again.  One of the key-wind clocks has been regularly opened.  The bezel on front (the glass door) has been repeatedly opened when no one is around.  I have watched.  It swings open for no apparent reason!  The ghost does it!  Then, most recently, a small lighted fragrance warmer has been lit.  This is a beautiful, electric oil warmer that my brother and girlfriend gave to me as a gift.  It fills the house with a sweet citrus scent!  The light is one of those "touch" lamps that is turned on by lightly tapping the base.  I turn it off each night before bed but for the past few nights, the lamp has "magically" been relit.  How?  At first, I thought Ms. Nycto (Bayou Princess Cat) may have climbed up on the table to touch the base but not so.  Last night, the cat was sleeping soundly on the bed.  The light came on and went to the brightest setting which takes three taps.  How?? There was no one besides that cat and me in the room!  Well, maybe?  Ok, ok..."The ghost did it!"  Welcome back, ghostie!

When The Sun Doesn't Come

  What happens when the sun doesn't come?  Of course, it rises in the east just as it does every morning but what happens when it doesn't come out to bring its warmth to the world?  Nope, this is not some deep, theoretical pondering nor is it some "end of the world" threat.  It is merely a question of what am I to do when the sun refuses to brighten the sky in the morning.  This morning was that morning just like so many other mornings of this summer.  This has to be the wettest summer on record for our area.   Truly...the number of rain-free days in the past month could have been counted on one hand and the number for the entire summer probably would not go far beyond counting on both hands.  Rain has been the rule for the entirety of the season.  It is a good thing I love rainy days and rainy nights!  But...what should I do with another rain-filled day.  There are only so many things one can find to do indoors when you are usually an outdoorsy type person.

  After Mr. PJ (the old dog) and I meandered about the hillside in the misting rain, a trip to the pier was in order.  With him back safely in his bed, my job was to clear the pier of any fishing gear and benches as we may be on the receiving end of a tropical storm this week. This chore was completed just as a torrential downpour started so, from that point onward, I was trapped indoors.  So...I clocked!

  My interest in repairing and otherwise restoring antique clocks is something I find fascinating but what do you do with numerous clocks?  Well, I will tell you!  You create a "clock wall"!  Years and years ago, a neighbor of ours took my oldest son into his garage to show him his clock collection.  Mr. Jone's collection fascinated me far more than it did my son.  The clocks were all set to chime one after another so it was a cacophony of chimes (but in a good sort of way.)  Mrs. Jones had insisted that the clocks did all of their tick-tocking out in the garage instead of the house but, to me, the sounds were almost magical. The memory of the clock wall brought smiles as my clocks were hung.  Tick-tock, tick-tock...ahh...sweet!

  Since I have yet to collect enough antique clocks, Son convinced me that it would be ok to include a few modern clocks on my wall.  As he was building shelves for the mantel clocks, I collected whatever timepieces I could find about the house.  There are still a few antique ones that have not been repaired so the newer ones will be replaced eventually.  A portrait of Edgar Allan Poe by Elizabeth and a purple raven sets the wall off nicely, if I do say so myself.

  So...when the sun refuses to come out and play and rain rules the day....do something fun.  Create a bit of whimsy and let the imagination free.  If anybody asks "Why?" merely turn the question on them and ask "Why not?" 

Well, Its About Time!!!

  I suppose I am close to being a hoarder but some things are just hard for me to toss in the trash.  Lately, (at the urging of many kind folks) I have been sorting and discarding a lot of stuff that crammed every nook and cranny of the Little Bayou House.  It was nigh on exploding!  My brother once told me "You house may float away during a hurricane but it will never blow away.  It is too heavy!"  Although that is an interesting thought, he is probably right.  Or..was right at that time.  Now, things are thinning but, like I said, it is hard for me to toss certain items.  Clocks.  I am not sure why I like clocks so much but I do.  Not modern clocks but the old spring wound type or the weighted type.  These newfangled things are not for me.

  My obsession with clocks is sort of ironic as I am not a time oriented person.  In fact, most of the timepieces in the house are not even set accurately.  Time, in a sense, is meaningless when you spend your days strictly on the Bayou and are not bound to other folks' schedules.  So, it is not the time-keeping that attracts me.  It is the ticking and chiming of old time clocks.  I find it soothing.  That said, since I am redoing the living room, my clocks will have a place of importance.  I figure if I am going to part with a lot of my treasures, a few can stay and be focal points.  A wall of clocks is in the works.  While this is agreeably not for everyone, it suits me perfectly even though some of those clocks have not worked in years.

  One such clock is a mantel clock that came from my grandparents' house.  This fine piece in its beautiful wooden case used to keep perfect time then, through some mishap, it refused to tick even one click.  It sat on the shelf in silence.  While I missed the sounds of the clock, I knew clock repair was an expensive undertaking and I had better ways to spend the money.  Raising kids is not cheap!  Along the way, the clock was forgotten but with the inception of the wall of clocks, I, once again, thought of clock repair.  With the kids all successfully on their own, I delved into finding a reputable service.  None local were recommended.  So, I took a look at the timepiece and thought "I might as well try!"  Pop did not raise us to be afraid of trying new things.  Intimidation by a task is unheard of in our family. 

  I took the clock down from the mantel and opened the back.  Yep, there sure were a lot of gears in there...along with a bazillion other pieces.  Hmmm?  Flashlight in hand, I examined the inner workings of the clock.  I had no clue where to begin...except one piece looked a bit bent.  The pendulum swing bar was askew.  Well, there is a good place to start!  A few tools, a bright light and steady hand was all that was needed to mend that and the chime mechanism.  Then on to those gears!  

  For the past five hours, the old clock has been steadily ticking and the chime sounds amazing as it echoes on the hour and half hour!  The pendulum is swinging a bit fast but that will be adjusted tomorrow.  In the meantime, my confidence has been boosted enough to search for clock parts to start repairing two more non-working timepieces.  One will have to be gutted and rebuilt from the get go as it went through Hurricane Katrina and the inner workings are utterly destroyed.  The other needs small pine cone weights.  Hopefully, I will have the patience and knowledge to handle this meticulous work but, with one ticking happily after years of silence, I am encouraged!

The Renegade 12!

  Noon, lunchtime, midday, high noon...call it what you may, it is still 12pm.  Midnight, the Witching Hour, the Dead of Night, the Darkest Hour...call it what you may, it is still 12am.  Both hands of a clock point upwards (if you have a clock that has hands, otherwise 12:00 will show in bright lights).  If you are fortunate enough to have a clock that chimes, boings, ding-dongs or otherwise announces the hour, it should do a reasonable sounding of twelve.  Clocks have a way of doing that.  They let us know the hour and half-hour.  They let us tick away the minutes.  They proudly announce the time.  Unless you have a clock like mine.

  For the past week or so, I have spent more sleepless nights than I should have.  With illness in the house, I felt the need to "mother" everyone...both guys, the dog, the cat, any ill being that crossed the threshold.  Those sleepless hours dragged on and I kept count by the clock. The cuckoo clock that hangs on the wall has always had a problem with its announcements.  The goofy bird pops out about ten minutes before the hour and cuckoos anywhere between one and seventeen times.  Why seventeen?  I have no clue.  Also, there is no set time when that bird chooses to cuckoo seventeen times, it just does.  Then, there is the big, old clock that hangs above the mantel.  It has been great about keeping nigh on perfect time with one exception...the boings are way off!  Well, all are impeccably accurate except the 12s.  There are NO 12s!  Don't get me wrong, there is still the number 12 on the face of the clock but the goofy thing refuses to strike twelve times!  This makes it a tad confusing when you are sitting in the dark trying to figure if it is close to medicine dosing time when there is no 12.  Think about it...NO 12!

  The old clock strikes once for the half hour (11:30pm).  Boing!  Good.  Then, (12am) Boing, Boing!  Wait?  Is that 2am already?   Get up and check the time.  Nope, that was midnight.  So after 11pm, it was anybody's guess about the time until 3am.  My nights went like this Boing!(11:30pm)  Boing, Boing!(12am)  Boing!(12:30am)  Boing!(1am)  Boing!(1:30am)  Boing, Boing!(2am)  Boing!(2:30am)  My midnight was not 12, it was 2!  So, I checked at noon.  Yep, 12 was still missing.  Somewhere along the way, 12 has gone missing and cannot be found.  We have a lovely clock with a renegade 12!  No noon..no midnight!  I am so confused!  It is time to learn clock repair, I suppose.  12!  I just need a 12!

Tick, Tock.....Boing, Boing, Boing.....

  There is a new noise ringing through the house at all hours...each hour, anyway.  A sweet lady gave Mark a nice old "35 day" clock that has a wonderful gong chime.  While some folks may grow tired of having a loud gong echoing through the house at midnight, I find it somewhat calming.  Yep, I am weird like that, I guess, but it is soothing to know that time marches on even when I am down for the night.  Some things never change.  The clock is punctual even when I grow weary.

  While the clock, itself, is a treasure, the true value lies in the friendship of such a kind person.  When you give something from the heart, even a small trinket becomes priceless.  We are blessed to have such friends in our lives and always hope that they feel the same.  Now I must get busy and clean the mantle so the clock will have a prominent place to be displayed. The clock will remain as a cherished part of the Little Bayou House....the dozen midnight gongs and all!  

My "Technician"

  A couple of days ago, I mentioned that a tall, Grandfather Clock was delivered to our front door.  The deliveryman was kind enough to haul the huge thing inside and uncrate it but that was as far as he was going with the clock.  "Nope.  A "Trained Clock Technician" will be here to set it up.  I can't do it for you."  He did say that he thought anyone could assemble the last few pieces and set the clock.  "It ain't that hard", he said.  Hmmm?  This was the second time that I heard tell of this trained professional clock setter.  I assumed that the clock needed some special touch but by looking at it, I saw no need.  It was just a battery operated clock with no pendulum or gears.  Well, I waited.  Mark called the clock place and was told this time "We just have to deliver it...nothing more."  So much for that titled professional!

  When I told our son, Michael, of the situation, he snickered. "Don't worry, this "Untrained Clock Technician" will handle it."  And he did.  It took a grand total of about ten minutes for Michael to have the clock installed, running and set with the correct time.  He, also, found the glass shelves (which were stored under the clock and were held in place by a thin strip of cardboard.)  After mounting the shelf supports, he slid the shelves in place.  "There.  All finished." he announced.  Ahh, the clock was ticking away and the shelves were in place albeit empty.  

  Elizabeth came after work and decided to poke a few things on the shelves.  "We can't have empty shelves, Mom!  Lets decorate!" she exclaimed.  (Notice here that no exclamation points were used in Michael's conversation but Elizabeth's is full of them.  That is just about the way they talk.  He deadpans, she emotes!)  Now the clock sits in its full glory in the spare bedroom.  I have to admit that the thing is growing on me.  At first, I was unsure that I needed another clock but each time I pass the room, I find myself admiring the thing.  Yep, that sure is a pretty clock now that it is a working timepiece.  Big...but pretty!

It Takes a "Trained Technician"

  I ponder the logic behind a lot of things nowadays.  It seems that without some title, a person just cannot do a simple task and every task has to have a "Trained Technician".  Whatever happened to good old commonsense?  What ever happened to "do it yourself"?  Whatever happened to...oh, nevermind.  Just once, I would love to see someone who will do a task that is not necessarily in their "job description".  Pet peeve of the day...people who are far overpaid, who have a "title" and who do not accomplish a single thing that cannot be done by any ordinary person.

  Take today, for instance.  Today, A huge truck came backing into the lane.  This, by far, was overkill in the first degree since this truck was delivering a clock.  I figured that perhaps the truck was loaded with parcels to be delivered after our clock.  Nope.  When the guy threw open the back of the truck, a lone box stood in the wide open space that could have possible held a mid-sized car, a herd of cattle and at least several elephants.  Instead, there stood a single box.  The guy whipped out his dolly and toted that box into the house.  Hmmm. Where do I put a clock?  Why in the spare bedroom of course! Actually, this is a clock that Mark got for our daughter, Elizabeth.  Since she and Robbie do not have a house yet, I am storing the clock along with all of their other belongings.  So the clock will stand in her old room.  The delivery guy was quite adept at what he does obviously as he managed to steer that huge thing into the hall and make a sharp turn into the room.  He uncrated the clock and gathered up the discarded cardboard and other trappings.  "There is your clock." he said. "You will have to wait for the "Trained Clock Technician" to come and start it."  What?  A Trained Clock Technician to start a clock?  Well, that is about the silliest thing that I have ever heard!

  I could perhaps understand if this was some highly intricate piece of work but this "clock" is nothing more than a curio cabinet with a battery operated clock face stuck inside.  No gears, no pendulum, no keys...just a single AA battery.  Yep, that takes a skilled professional if there was ever one needed!  The idea that it takes someone special to start this clock amuses me.  For the clue hunt, I have approximately thirty clocks on one wall.  Not once did I have qualms about "starting" these clocks and several of them are the antique sort that need key winding and gentle pendulum swinging.  Yep, this battery operated clock is some intense deal!  

  When I told Michael, our son, about the "Trained Clock Technician" that was to come "start" our clock, he merely shook his head.  "Well, it does take a lot of skill to insert that battery!"  Yep, we sure do not want to make a mistake about that!  "Trained Clock Technician"!  Bah! Sounds to me like another overpaid, do-nothing person to me.  Oh well, now I have to give up another morning of garden work just to wait on this "professional" to come do his job. All for one AA battery...geez. It is quite a beautiful curio cabinet, though!  

Well! Its about time!

  I have always said that Mark is my biggest support when it comes to my crafting.  A lot of husbands would look at what I do as a waste of time but he has always been more than eager to help me in any way.  Now that our daughter has become a crafter as well, that eagerness has at least doubled.  Whenever we start some endeavor, he immediately asks if there is anything we need.  Darling Daughter and I are more of the "recycler" type crafters and will scrounge around to find what is needed.  He is not that way.  He has no problem buying our supplies.  (I guess Elizabeth and I are just too tight with our money to buy anything!  Mark, on the other hand, says for a project to turn out well, you have to start with good material.)  Anyway, this whole support thing was, once again, evident this past week.  

  Elizabeth and I started creating "bugs" from old clock parts, watch parts and any hardware items we could find. This is sort of our take on the "Steampunk" style of art. Wire, springs, bolts, clamps, gears and washers were appealing to our crafty eyes!  Nothing was safe!  After she created the fantastic scorpion that I wrote about in a previous post, Mark decided that we needed a better supply of parts.  He ordered several small baggies of gears and then settled on seventeen pounds of used clock parts! Oh, my goodness!  The man is a wonder!  

  Today, that seventeen pound order came to the doorstep.  She and I were nigh on in Heaven!  Can you only imagine our delight to see antique clock faces in the stash!  Plus, there were gears galore!  All of those gears started the wheels turning in our heads! (Pun intended!)  Oh, the mystical, magical things we could create with these parts!  Yep, I know..these were broken clocks but, hey, they were OUR broken clocks better known as OUR art medium! With these, a whole plethora of Clockwork bugs will soon inhabit the Little Bayou House! 

Tick Tock

Tick..tock..tick..tock..tick..tock.  Just about midnight last night, a strange noise suddenly filled  the living room.  Tick..tock..tick..tock.  Yes, it was a clock.  My large cuckoo clock was tick-tocking away with a loud resonance. While this might not seem strange to you, it was almost unsettling to me at the moment.  Why, might you ask, would a ticking clock bother me so much?  Well, you see, this clock normally does not make this much racket!  Sure, it ticks but quietly, very quietly.  The ticks are almost inaudible.  It is a battery operated clock not an old style pendulum regulated type.  It does have a pendulum but for aesthetic value only. For some reason just at midnight, the clock was echoing through the silent house.  Tick..tock..tick..tock.  Hmmmm?  Well, I could hop up out of my nice warm spot and investigate or I could allow the clock to go on doing its thing for the rest of the night.  Yep, I chose the warm blankets over a loud clock.

By morning, I had grown used to the sound and paid no heed to the tick-tocking.  For some reason, it did not seem so very loud with the morning light.  When Michael wandered into the living room later, he got a puzzled look on his face.  He looked at me and asked what was wrong with the clock.  Oh! Yeah!  The clock was still making that strange, loud noise.  Being one who does not like things to change, he checked the pendulum on the clock.  "Well now, that is a tad unusual."  he murmured.  Reaching up he touched a picture standing on a shelf near the clock.   The tick-tocking ceased immediately with a slight movement of his hand.

It seems that during the night, that picture had inexplicably moved a slight bit and the pendulum was tapping it.  The sound was not the ticking of the clock but rather the tapping of the pendulum on the picture frame.  Neither Michael nor I could explain how after all these many days, the picture moved. Did the sudden drop in temperature cause some slight movement?  Has some small critter moved into the Little Bayou House for the winter and maybe nudged the picture with its scurrying?  Or..or..umm. Hey!  Maybe I have learned telekinesis in my sleep!  Maybe I can move things around with my brain while I sleep!  Wouldn't that be great?  Now that the mystery is solved, I need to learn how to use this new power to clean house while I slumber!  Ok, ok, we will just say that the Little Bayou House probably shifted a bit.  Boooo!  Telekinesis sounds much more fun.

It is working!

Sometimes things just need to go unexplained.  Take, for instance, the clock that has sat on the shelf for years and years and not done a single thing.  It just sat there gathering dust.  This particular clock is an antique mantle clock that belonged to my grandparents, was handed down to my mom and then finally to my brother.  It has been on my shelf for the past twenty years or so.  Even though this is technically my brother's clock, he said to leave it sit right where it is.  So it sits...gathering dust.  The thing has not worked since it came to the Little Bayou House.  It is one of those nice clocks that needs winding to make it work.  It has a key that winds both the hand springs and the chime springs.  These have been wound to no avail.  No ticking, no chiming ever took place.  The clock sat. Nothing we did ever made a difference.

Then one day last month, it decided to start ticking!  On a whim, I moved the clock a bit and I heard the pendulum start to swing as it always had in the past. Usually, this would happen and then the pendulum would inexplicably stop after about three minutes. This time, it did NOT stop!  It kept swinging!  The clock ticked away the hours.  It chimed perfectly on the half hour and on the hour!  It was working!  After twenty years on the shelf with nary a tick-tock, the clock was now happily doing its thing!

Was there some magic thing that I unknowingly did to make it start working once again or did it finally get enough rest from all those years of non-work.  Who knows?  I am just glad that it has been ticking away for these past thirty days.  It is nice to hear the chimes on those sleepless nights.  Tick-tock, tick-tock!  The clock is not just sitting collecting dust!