Grandfather's Clock

My grandfather's clock. Derelict now. Numbers dropping off, pendulum not balancing and ormolu coating long since polished off by my mother. It might still chime, if pushed.

I know very little about George Alfred Bell or his chiming clock, though I spent a lot of time around him as a child. Where I grew up, children were seen but not heard and not often spoken too. But I do know he wore spats (hard to find in Manchester in the 1960's) and a linen cloth cap (indoors). He always kept a couple of rubber bands round his wrist, just in case, and he had a clock.

So, this is my entry for Derelict Thursday hosted by Freespiral and Himself. And thanks to Himself for reminding me about the possibility of a still life on a wet or dreary day.