On a cold winter’s morn nothing is better
Than awaking to a cock’s crow.
As long as it is at a reasonable hour.
In my case, however, the cock’s crow is actually the alarm clock. Evil, dastardly machines hell-bent on destroying any slumber that crosses its path. We got rid of our accidental roosters years ago, but the alarm clock for some reason still has a presence. I guess it has its reasons. While it would be great to live in a world without them, alas, their need is great. Without them a whole world wouldn’t be on time to work or events. Still, that is no excuse to so rudely awaken me at six-in-the-morning to announce the beginning of the day. Wait? It’s only six? Hooray! I’ve got fifteen more minutes of “quality” sleep time. My husband on the other hand, not so much.