Here in the UK, we have been gifted an extra hour. The clocks changed last night, so by the time lord’s convention 08:00 became 07:00. For me, Sunday should be a timeless, drifting sort of day, controlled by selfish impulse and hunger. I may be a bit unusual in this but if I can get away with it I like to save that free hour for when I can appreciate it. That means clutching on to old time. When workday Monday morning arrives like a slap in the face with a wet fish, I will turn those clock hands back and enjoy a rebellious lazy start.
Author of Below The Strandline
