Tuesday, March 30, 2010

DST, Nightengales and The Hunger Games

I think I must be the last to know that daylight savings time is a man-made attempt at saving money. Even my sister knew and she's the girl who, on the way from New Mexico to California, asked my brother if in fact, going 60 miles per hour actually means that in one hour you will have travelled 60 miles. I mean, she's smart but there are certain practical things she's just never considered. I adore my sister.

So I was just shocked when I discovered, thanks to my husband, that daylight savings time is a fairly new tradition concocted to save money. I was also surprised to learn that Arizona and Hawaii don't participate in this foolishness. Every year when the clock changes, my biorhythm gets all screwed up and I ask myself, WHY?

The saddest part is that its all for nothing because DST actually ends up costing Americans more! This is foolish; we need to end this foolishness asap.

Luckily the universe has sent me a wonderful way of calming those nighttime "I can't sleep because my biorhythm is all screwed up" jitters (here in Europe, the time changes earlier than it does in the USA) in the form a few Nightengales who serenade me through my bedroom window. They sing the most beautiful song i've ever heard. I lay there and imagine they are singing something like:

Who sings the prettiest? We dooo'oo, we dooo'oo!!

Who are so lucky to be night birds? We a'are we a'are!!

Who gets the juiciest worms while all the other birds are snoozing? It's uuuu'uuuus, we're the beeee'eeest!!!

Nightengles Ru'le!! Nightengales are coo'ool!!!

And it goes on like that till my imaginary Nightengale conversation lulls me to sleep. Roel and I have named the birds Katniss, Peeta and Gale after our three favorite characters in the book, The Hunger Games. We do a lot of tandem reading, but this book has been our most recent favorite. Have you read it yet? If not, READ IT NOW! IT'S FANTASTIC!

1 comment:

yaffle said...

you speak fluent nightingale. I shall leave a worm on my window ledge in the hope of a serenade.