This morning, as I entered our house after shopping, I heard our old chiming clock mark the hour. I noticed then that it was running slow, so I put down my bags and wound it with the clock key I hide beneath its sturdy wooden legs. I’m amazed that with kids in the house, we’ve never lost the key or broken the clock. And when I hear our clock chime–no matter how frazzled I’m feeling–I believe that I have a charmed life.
Apparently, I am not alone in thinking that chiming clocks are important to have around. Charles Ditmas, the man who kept the clocks at Harvard University for more than fifty years, once wrote in an unpublished essay quoted in his New York Times obituary:
“It is a constant wonder to me, how many people today have never lived with clocks, do not know them, are not aware of what the presence of a clock in the home means. I speak of real clocks, rather than battery clocks or electric clocks that so often exhibit hideous designs, fake pretensions and vulgar proportions.”
Chiming clocks have good feng shui. They lend motion and music to a quiet house (Thomas Jefferson kept one in every room at Monticello).
I don’t hear ours chiming from downstairs after bedtime, but when I am up at odd hours, I love its company. I recommend that you go out and find a clock in a local antique shop, or ask somebody who loves you to be on the look-out. I hesitate to recommend online sources–though eBay.com might provide an interesting start–since I purchased a clock with a pendulum from an online clock shop, and the pendulum doesn’t swing anymore. You’ll find your way to the right one. And your local yellow pages will lead you to the best clock doctors; they are almost always spiritual people.
BEST OF CHATTERING MIND.
posted December 27, 2006 at 6:17 pm
I agree wholeheartedly. I have 2 key wound clocks. One is an antique, the other perhaps a decade old. I find both of them fasinating and calming to the soul. I depend on hearing them throughout the day.They keep me company and focused on the life around me, even though I am alone….
posted December 28, 2006 at 12:40 am
My mother was a Thomas Jefferson, too, in the sense that she loved clocks. They were everywhere in her house, and she made sure they were in ours, too. She bought enough while she was alive that every grandchild could have one of hers to inherit. I guess the ones she gave her children will be inherited by my grandchildren. They are so unique in that no one clock is like another. Maybe that was the meaning behind her gifts – every child and grandchild was unique. I often think about her love for clocks and it’s just another way I remember her.