In the olden days you went to church on a Sunday which made Sunday different and you didn't forget to wind the clocks. Of all the reasons for going to church this was probably the best.
Yesterday was the middle day of a Bank holiday weekend and we had children and a grandchild rushing round playing frisbee and hide and seek or sauntering around admiring the garden and cheating at croquet- and it was all rather breathtakingly wonderful- and not like a normal Sunday at all- and I forgot to wind the clocks.
Ailz usually gives me verbal digs about winding the clocks and even she forgot about them.
Never mind, the sun got up anyway. I think the birds must have woken him.