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The Clocks Have Gone Forward...

...without too much kerfuffle, certainly not enough to warrant a whole blog post. Losing an hour is always disappointing, but had it not been for this intro I'd have forgotten about it by now. It's a far cry from 2013, when the clocks went back. Saturday 26th October was the date and I was in the midst of my tri-annual visit to my parents' house.

The 3 of us were sat watching Strictly Come Dancing when all of a sudden somebody muttered the words that would change the course of my visit indefinitely. "Remember the clocks go back tonight, and seeing as we're flying to Croatia in the early hours you'll have to take care of it!"

I assumed straight away they were talking to me. I hadn't arranged to go on holiday and it was the kind of trick they'd pulled before. Looking back, I remember 2 distinct things:
  1. I'd have to make my own arrangements for Sunday's breakfast, and...
  2. In a 'worse for wear' state, having raided my parents larder that day for wine, I thought I was being asked to return their clocks to the shop they'd been purchased from.
Never one to shy responsibility, and bored of X Factor by this point, I proceeded to the kitchen to find an old shopping bag. I anticipated that the combined weight of clocks would require 'double-bagging' of a standard bag, so I opted for a Sainsbury's bag for life, which I planned to dispose of in a bin afterwards.

I can't remember what the time was exactly...

With my parents upstairs, finalising their packing for Romania, I slipped out into the cold October night. Donning my snood/hat combo, to avoid drying of the skin around my eyes and nose, I was accompanied by a bottle of Jacob's Creek, which I'd developed a taste for earlier that day.

Due to the weekend bus schedule I ended up walking into town, seeing off the wine in the process. Whilst staggering down the middle of a well-lit road I was pulled over by a policeman. At first he seemed keen to find out what was in my bag for life.

I believe the resulting arrest was officially for 'theft of an unusual number of time pieces whilst under the influence and using threatening, abusive or insulting language'. Thankfully, after a night in the cells, a grovelling explanation and an £80 fine, I was free to go.

Realising the error of my ways, I set off to return the clocks to my parent's walls and cabinet surfaces without them knowing a thing. However, to my surprise they were still there when I got back Sunday morning, apparently having missed their wake-up alarm (and holiday) through no fault of their own.

In a way things worked out for the best as, after apologising profusely, I was cooked a lovely egg and bacon sandwich which took the edge of the hangover. It also resolved the issue of what I was going to make myself for breakfast that morning.

As for the holiday, well unfortunately my parents missed out on a refund due to the unbelievable nature of the claim they put forward.

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