Time Waits for No One

Yesterday we "sprang forward" to Daylight Savings Time. I steal a phrase from my daughter when I say I didn't exactly spring forward. I slept late, and was reading the Sunday paper when Dana asked me to go to the prom dress benefit with her. She has boys, so prom dresses aren't of great interest to her, but perhaps she felt it would be wise to support the cause. Anyway, I leapt into gear and threw on some clothes. What does one wear to a prom dress fashion show? Apparently the same thing I wore last year, according to Dana.

There were a lot of prom dresses, and a lot of items to be auctioned, and it was late when I got home ready to pick up my New York Times again, but a last minute phone message from friends in Sebastopol for home made clam chowder had me leaping into a more casual ensemble and heading out again. (For reasons we don't understand, our phone system stashes messages in three different locations, and we didn't get this one until almost seven.)

The clam chowder was delicious, I made the salad while we had a glass of wine and the company, as always, was pleasant. It was late when we took our leave, and I realized as soon as we got home that I had left my phone there.

The New York Times was still where I left it yesterday when I headed back to Sebastopol today for the phone, which I sometimes refer to as my brain. I couldn't even call the hairdresser for an appointment without it, as her number is in the contact list, which doesn't, for some reason, sync with my computer. Who said "devices" would make our lives simpler?

I took my time driving home through the backroads. I liked the obvious change in seasons taking place in the hills above a cow pasture. I've lost interest in the Sunday Times.