Biological Clocks Don’t Fall Back

That is my face when I came back inside after believing that I had gotten up a little early, fed the dogs, fed the mules, cleaned a little overnight mule shit out of the stall area of the barn, tossed another hay bale into the inside rack, taken my supplements, lit some incense, made my coffee, and finally sat down before my computer at what I thought was 1:59 am, only to watch the little clock on the bottom right of my screen, turn from 1:59 am to 1:00 am.

Once I realized what had happened, I made lemonade out of lemons by closing out my CLE file. I have to watch 24 hours of Continuing Legal Education videos every two years to renew my NY Law License. I have been doing it in spurts over the past week, and I just finished up. The process feels very much like the psychologist scene in The Natural: https://youtu.be/WN-aCYVVtyo.

Then I answered some emails and responded to some FB Posts.

But first I snapped the above photo to capture my ecstasy. Of course that may have been that old face reflecting the mixed pleasure it was experiencing watching hour 24 of my CLE videos.

Now people may wonder how my screwed up circadian rhythm handles the shift back and forth between Daylight Savings Time to regular – like the rest of the world – time.

I guess my 60 plus years of EST hard wiring accommodates for the shift, given that I have been doing it on the East Coast most of my life. It allows me over time to stay up a little later in tiny increments and ultimately sleep in that extra hour. And lose it again in the reverse process in the spring. I can’t explain why my mind/body doesn’t allow me continue the adaptation to accommodate those extra two hours to finally shift to Colorado time, but I can only assume the Universe has its reason for locking me into the East Coast temporal rhythm, if only to allow me to write.

Still, just like back in Riverdale, those shifting days always suck for me.

And I understand the shift is just not healthy: https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/opinion/when-does-the-time-change-why-fall-back-and-spring-forward-should-end-for-good/ar-AA1jk0uV

But when have I ever let that guide my conduct?

I just walked out to the living room and snapped a photo of my old school, off the grid, wall clock while I brewed my second cuppa coffee, and came back to witness life turn to the reconstituted 2 am.

Must remember to shift that wall clock, and its counterpart in my dining room upstairs. It will probably take me a week. Oh well, mustn’t grumble. The coffee is delicious. I have been drinking Peet’s.

I was a little sore when I woke up this morning from doing my Green Acres chores yesterday. All the cleaning and refilling of troughs, shoveling shit, tossing hay bales and filling hay bags can wear on this 60 plus year old frame. Thank God for Relief Factor, an integral part of each morning’s supplement regimen.

That lucky photo was taken when I slipped my iPhone into the wires on the fencing yesterday afternoon so I had both hands free to hoist that hay bag and tie it to the the fence post. I use those hay bale cords you see hanging on the fence. Those hay bags are half a bale. I hang two bags, each at different spots, so Claire and Honey can munch when they are out back at their convenience. I usually do it twice a week. They also have the hay rack in the barn and, just to screw with me, raid the hay stacks in the storage room as well. I sometimes find the bales spilled out of the storage room door.

Speaking of lucky photos, yesterday morning I had to make my run into the Longmont Walmart Superstore to purchase the shopping cart load of carrots, apples, pears and celery that get converted over a span of three plus hours of chopping each Saturday morning into a week’s supply of food and treats for my mules and the neighboring equines.

Well anyway, whenever I go shopping there is always this Unkindness (flock) of Ravens that bring themselves to my attention.

Yesterday, there was a cute couple of Ravens canoodling over the store entrance and when they spotted me going for my iPhone, the female flew off and the male hung around giving me shit for ruining his sure thing before himself taking flight after her, with cawing excuses of “That’s just Tom. He can’t help himself baby.”

But I caught him on video and posted it on yesterday’s FB.

Here’s a still shot of that magnificent bird.

That’s going to make an excellent tattoo someday soon.

Now one mustn’t confuse this Corvid with its Murder (flock) of crow cousins, that visit me each day at Casa Claire. The ravens are larger. https://www.audubon.org/news/how-tell-raven-crow

But I enjoy conversing with both.

Speaking of conversing, as I watched the blue balled black bird fly over head I heard a soft male voice from behind me say, “That’s a raven.”

I turned and spotted an older, small indigenous gentleman, who was also appreciating the show a few feet away, and then told me how he has crows and ravens in his back yard that will come to him and eat out of his hand.

This guy had that mystical feel about him. Shaman.

I told him how cool that was and how jealous I felt of his connection to those birds.

He smiled, nodded, waved and went on his way. I felt blessed by the brief encounter with both the bird and the Shaman.

You see, the magic is all around, if you know where to look.

Well, I still have another weekend day of magic ahead of me at Casa Claire, so I better get to it.

You fine, five readers pay your respects to your higher powers, hang out with your families and maybe curse out your respective favorite football teams for letting you down once again this season.

Gather for a common meal with love ones.

Rest.

Shit, it’s only 3 am.

The kitties will get an earlier cuddle.

Can’t start rounds until dawn starts peeking over the eastern horizon. Don’t want to spook the neighbors.

Maybe I’ll go out and do some star gazing and have one more cuppa before waking Lisa for work.

But whatever we do, let’s make our respective day(s) a great one.