Daylight Stallings Time

So you may have heard we made a change here in Indiana. I guess now we're... well, we're saving daylight is what we're doing, though I haven't quite understood exactly how.

The main thing is that we have to get up earlier and pretend like it's not really earlier. Once we've set our clocks forward as directed, an alarm set for 6:35 a.m. actually goes off at 5:35, providing a daily reminder of why they coined the term "ungodly hour."

And Penelope is not a person you would characterize as fond of getting out of bed. Resetting a clock does not necessarily make you get tired any sooner (though it is pretty annoying), so "same time to bed, early to rise" makes a person neither healthy, nor wealthy, nor wise. Just sneaky.

Her new policy stipulates not getting out of bed until the last possible second, which means that I'm up, I'm dressed, the coffee pot is brewing, all the hall lights are on (for the illusion of a glorious sunrise) and the fan is turned off so as not to chill her bare shoulders when she rises. That's on an ordinary day.

Now that the state has elected to get going sixty minutes sooner, at least until Fall, our wake-up ritual includes daily conversations like this:

[softly] "Lope... Lope... good morning..."

"Mmph. Gd mrng."

"Lope, time to wake up..."

"Mmmmmm-unh. Rgh."

"Come on, babe; it's time."

"Nn. Is not."

"Look at the clock, Lope. We gotta get going."

[yawning, sprawling across the bed under the sheets, burying her face in the pillow] "Ahh... okay... is the coffee ready?"

"Yes, it's ready. The bowls are out for the cereal."

"Are you all dressed?"

"Yep."

"Shoes on?"

"They're in the living room. I'll put them on after breakfast."

"That shirt is wrinkled."

"I know. I was gonna spray it."

"Okay..." [burrowing back under the covers] "...Are you going to take a shower?"

"Babe, I already did."

"...Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. I didn't hear it."

"You were sleeping."

"Let me sniff you."

"C'mon, Lope, let's go."

"Okay! ...Did you take the trash out?"

"That was yesterday."

"Feed the kitties?"

"Yep."

"Did Vince go out?"

"Yep."

"Oh... ...I think the porch light is out again."

"Okay, I'll change the bulb today."

"Good." [re-sprawling, nudging Vince] Let me know when you're done."

"Lope, there's no time. I'll change it this evening. Let's get up."

"You want me to trip over the front steps and die?"

"Lope..."

"You hate me?"

"Babe, the sun is up."

"Oh, alright."

"Yeah. I'll go pour the coffee"

"Okay. Colin?..."

"Yeah, babe?"

" ...I think the gutters are clogged."

"Come on, Lope..."