Hello, Daylight Wasting Time

Last night, just after the trick-or-treaters ended, all the clocks in the house fell back and this morning was my mother's favorite day, the day that daylight saving time ended. She always considered daylight savings to be another vast Rooseveltian conspiracy and was especially put out every other year when the pastor we shared with the church in the next town served us at 9:30 and then jumped in his car to drive 12 fast miles south and do it there. She also felt put upon for about three weeks in October when school ran from 8 to 12 so that kids could spend the afternoon picking up the potatoes that the machine dug up in the morning. In the past year's class reunion one of the Bohemian guys expressed the sentiment with which I agreed completely: "I'll tell you one thing; I have never cared for the experience of walking behind a team of horses." My dad loved them, which meant that as soon as we got a tractor, a son got to drive it. Now, of course the horses did provide extra fertilizer, but at the expense of lots of hay that cows need to make milk. Well. that was Dad's call. I don't remember him complaining about Daylight Saving Time. So I learned an important rule for wedded harmony: If you marry a strong-minded woman, (and not many guys don't,) you let her make most of the decisions