As much as I love the first day of summer — with the long expanse of daylight that I savor and hold dear as the days grow shorter and summer turns to fall then turns to winter when the days once again grow longer then winter turns to spring, all of which brings me back to the first day of summer — as much as I love that long, luxurious first day of summer, that is how much I loathe daylight savings and miss the missing hour, the one taken from me in the dark of the night.
On that day that the hour goes missing,I go about my business, do the things that need doing, and then one morning I wake up, robbed of an hour — an hour that continues to haunt me at unexpected moments until it is once again restored shortly after Halloween.
And the daylight is not even saved.
It’s simply rearranged, and like an awkwardly placed sofa, I make adjustments to my life to accommodate the shift.
What would be the late light of an afternoon is transformed into the late light of an early evening. I plan meals around the time I can take a photo in “good light,” and the best light at my house seems to come at the end of the day, just as the sun is about to dip below the horizon.
Daylight savings simply redistributes daylight to later in the day, wrecking havoc on my schedule and interfering with the circadian rhythms of pilots and school children alike.
So it is the time of year that I awake to find an hour missing, but be that as it may, life goes on, and this weekend, when I was not working to organize my crochet empire, I did take a few moments to sit with a hook and yarn, and in those few moments, I managed to transform what had been a three-round granny square leftover from another project into a five-inch crochet square that can be used to make a blanket for Project Amigo:
and I got this photo of the square with twenty-four of its compatriots:
and identified two more renegade squares ready to be rehabbed:
It is probably not only the missing hour that interfered with my ability to work on my crochet this weekend.
My efforts to get my crochet organized probably contributed at least as much, and while I am not particularly enjoying the process of getting organized, I am enjoying the transformation of so many of the unearthed small bits of my past crochet projects, on stitch at a time.