November 29, 2009

each moment is a day

Time has flown. Can it really be so late? That past - remembered so well - seems like yesterday, but the face in the mirror tells the truth.  This year is almost over, and I add my voice to the chorus: How can it be? Where has the old year gone? Nostalgia is bitter and sweet.

I collect clocks, all vintage, most broken.  They are my amulets against the inevitable race to the finish. With them, time stands still.


But what minutes!  Count them by sensation, and not by calendars, 
and each moment is a day.  ~Benjamin Disraeli

Clocks and Spoons 
by John Prine 

Clocks and spoons, empty rooms
It's raining out tonight
What a way to end a day
By turning out the light
Shoot the moon right between the eyes
I'm sending
Most of me to sunny countryside

Running through sky of blue
Rolling in the sun
Every day has a way
Of overflowing one
Shoot the moon right between the eyes
I'm keeping
Most of me in sunny countryside

Don't know how I did that now
Wonder where it's gone
Must've spent the way I went
Waiting for the dawn
Shoot the moon right between the eyes
I'm screaming
Take me back to sunny countryside.


Jamie and Claire Tour said...

This is great Susan. I'm a John Prine song singer from long ago. Your time pieces are lovely. Samantha

Chrisy said...

Oh darling I can soooo identify...if only we could wind those clocks back...just a tad...
ps loving your snow!

susan said so said...

Samantha, I'm so happy you stopped by! You should check out this post:, and this one:!

Chrisy, thanks to you for stopping by as well - your blog is such a treasure trove, I'm really pleased you came to visit mine! Isn't the snow fun? It's really all about the little things, isn't it...


Marsha said... must be something hardwired into our genes. My personal and professional spaces are full of clocks....4 radio/alarms clocks, 4 bird clocks, and 2 anniversary clocks. You know whose fault that must be....:)

susan said so said...


I can trace so many of our "preferences" back to Mother, and wonder how much further back it all really goes - did her her mother collect dishes, and clocks, and tiny treasures the way we do, or was she the first? Is she truly the wellspring for all our favorite things? Hard to imagine that being the case, isn't it?



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