I am partial to a bit of nostalgia so welcomed my Dad’s gift of my grandparents mantel clock enthusiastically. It’s looking a little tired and is undoubtedly more old fashioned than retro but it’s the kind of thing that makes you smile and makes you think.
We had a bit of trouble getting it to work. For several weeks it sat on my kitchen side not uttering a tick (despite being wound). I was just trying to work out how much it would cost to mend versus how much I needed it in my life.
The one day we tidied up and pushed the clock slightly backwards. It started to tick. Clearly something has been bent, or my grandparents mantel piece wasn’t level, because as long as the back is lower than the front it works perfectly well.
I set the time and it keeps it well. It makes an endearing creaking noise before chiming every quarter of an hour which is actually not annoying at all. If anything it makes you realise how fast time passes when it goes off again and you’re still on your laptop at the kitchen table looking at junk.
While I was at work yesterday my family (minus the big one who is still in Switzerland) investigated the clock further. It has three winding holes on the front and a big key. Unsure which hole as the right one to make it tick they wound all three only to discover that the third winds the on hour chime. The excitement was significant, especially when we established that it always chimes one less than the actually time. For example at 1pm it dings 12 times, and 2pm it dings once, you get the idea. Goodness only knows why but it’s a talking point.
We could get it mended but I don’t want to. This is the kind of idiosyncrasy I love. I hope that it’s always done the same and my Grandma and Grandad put up with it with a smile.
I now have something in my home that my grandparents, who I loved dearly, listened to every day and now so do I. That is a beautiful thing. Even if it’s never actually the time it thinks it is.