marking time...

...until the boiler man came to fix the heating. (Actually I didn't have to wait long)

This little cuckooless wooden clock came originally from the black forest (the cuckoo had flown away!). As a child I was allowed, only under supervision, to pull the chain so that the leaden pine cone rose up. It's one that needs wound twice a day. Mum and Dad shipped it over but I have a feeling that they'll miss that "tick-tock" sound. 50 years of winding is a long time!!