shewhomust | The dangers of metaphor

I posted that I was celebrating Christmas a day late, that time had slipped. Not long after, I learned that our traditional New Year guests would have to defer their visit: Time stops again, I wrote. On New Year's Eve, my watch stopped. If this were fiction, I would think this symbolism too blatant, but in real life, that's what happened.

I am hoping that my watch simply needs a new battery: it hasn't had one in a while. I dropped it on the floor, and when I picked it up, it had stopped, which is slightly worrying: but the time it showed was about half an hour earlier, so perhaps I just hadn't noticed. I'll take it to the market stall, and see...

Meanwhile, I am managing without a watch. But I have put up two new calendars (puffins in the kitchen, Orkney by my desk). Happy New Year!