Farm Boy brought home a cuckoo clock. He's wanted one for years and one of his co-worker's new hobbies is...restoring old cuckoo clocks. So now we have one. It's charming. Really. It is. But the dang thing is one of those that has to be 'rewound', every day. We haven't gotten into the habit of winding it so sometimes it stops and has to be reset. This does not involve just putting the hands at the correct time and restarting it...
Oh no.
That would be too easy.
You see, it chimes once on the half hour, then the cuckoo comes out at the top of the hour and little people dance while a sweet, peppy little melody plays. If it stopped at 4 o'clock and it's now 8 o'clock? Well, you get to listen to it chime, cuckoo and dance as you slowly move the minute hand, hour by hour, to catch back up to where it's supposed to be.
Doesn't take too long really. But that repetition thing....
So this morning the cuckoo has run out of steam. Again. I go to reset it and as the little people come out to dance, again & again & again... my head starts flopping, side to side; each hand is raised with a forefinger pointed upward (ala John Travolta) jabbing rhythmically toward the ceiling; and the old backside is wagging back and forth in time to the music.
You got a visual on this?
Mmm - can't be good...
When I realize what I'm doing I stop and just bust a gut laughing.
And check over my should to be sure that no one, no one was here to see that.
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