For a few months now, my grandmother has expressed confusion at dinner time. It’s dark outside. And in her mind, we shouldn’t eat dinner when it’s dark. Dark, to her, means breakfast. Since it’s dark, the meal must be breakfast, even if it’s not remotely breakfast-like.
Surely there must be a time change at hand, to make it light when it’s dinner time, she’ll argue.
There is a time change coming up, but I don’t know if it will make much difference.
Suffice it to say, she’s confused when it comes to the time of day. Of late, she likes to watch television into the wee hours of the morning. It doesn’t matter what she’s watching. Sometimes it’s Leno and Conan. Sometimes it’s the Spanish-language channel. Doesn’t matter. She just plays it loud.
But heaven forbid I should be awake in the wee hours of the morning.
Coming back to day and night…
I’ve told my grandmother that it may be a month or two before we really notice the days growing longer.
And yet, just this week, I’ve noticed the days growing longer. It’s lighter in the morning when I get up. It’s still twilightish when I leave the office in the evening. So, the days are noticeably longer, a mere month past solstice.
I think that’s kinda neat.
Oh, it’s not anything my grandmother would notice. I wonder if she’d believe me if I told her.
Yet there it is. Longer days.
Hopefully, there’s warmer weather around the bend, too.