Did that alarm clock ring?
By PAT WICK
© Another Day in the Country
It's happened twice now! I set the alarm! It either didn't ring or I didn't hear it and kept right on sleeping. I've tried four different alarm clocks and my cell phone alarm. I've set them on the dresser, beside the bed, and even taken them to bed with me. I can't trust them! Usually, I have nothing to do with alarms. I've never liked them. I only use them if I have to get up at some ungodly hour — like when you have to get to the airport two hours early for the 6:30 flight. At a time like that, it's a waste of energy to even go to bed.
This is partly true because I don't trust alarm clocks. When the alarm is set, I don't really believe it is going to ring and wake me up, so I'm up every hour or so checking the time. Is it time yet? Is it time yet? "No, it's only 1:30," the clock says with a placid face and I bury my head back into the pillow.
Truth be told, I've never missed an airport run because of an alarm clock, but I have missed breakfast. This may seem like a trivial appointment except when you run a bed and breakfast and you are the breakfast maker!
Most often, the people who stay at a bed and breakfast, want a leisurely meal, later in the morning. However, working men need to be up early and on the job when the sun comes up. Especially, if they are railroaders. And here is where the trouble starts for me.
My body clock, unlike the clock on the wall, has it's own alarm system. It says, "Go to bed about midnight. Wake up around 7:30." And this time-table usually works — except for airport runs and railroaders. Railroaders need their breakfast at 6:15. So, when we have railroaders staying in Ramona, and we're the "breakfast" part of the B&B scene, I need my alarm to wake me up around 5:30. Always! Not just once in awhile.
Lucky for me — with this alarm clock aversion — I have back-up. My sister. She always hears the alarm. Her alarm clock is her trusted friend. "You need to get a better alarm clock," says my sister, my back-up, my friend and partner. "You need an alarm you can trust — like mine." And she goes on to name this fancy store in Wichita where she found her clock. I do admit that I'm using hand-me-down alarm clocks. My theory has been, "Why buy a new one, if you don't like them?"
During the past two months while the railroad tracks are being repaired in our vicinity, I've tried four different clocks. Twice, they've let me down. The first time I was delinquent in my getting-up-duty, I'd been waking up all night long, tossing and turning and then bolted out of bed at 7 a.m. At precisely 7:05, I was dressed and at the door of Cousin's Corner. "Why aren't they gone?" I'd wondered as I ran across the street from my home. "Maybe my clock is wrong? I hope. I hope. I hope." My clock wasn't wrong, it just hadn't rung! It was so cold outside that the railroad gang was meeting in the front room, witnessing my shame at being late.
My sister stood in the kitchen, cleaning up AFTER breakfast. "It's all under control," she said. "Go back to bed." I couldn't. Instead I was haunted by my incompatibility with alarms and early morning hours.
This week I've been using my mom's old alarm clock and it's been working, until this morning. I'd tossed and turned, double checking the clock — same song, second verse, willing myself to trust those hands on the dial. After all, this old ticker had awakened me three mornings in a row at 5:30! "Does it seem later than 5:45 to you?" whispered my body clock? "Keep it down," I grouched, "I checked just a minute ago and it was only 5 a.m." Well, my body clock finally kicked me in the seat of the pants at 6:15! This time I ran into the kitchen just in time to help serve breakfast.
My sister laughed. "What alarm are you using now?" I told her. Then she really laughed. "You know, Mom never trusted that alarm. She used to set TWO alarm clocks on the morning she was going to church because she never knew if it would go off!"
It's another day in the country — what happened to the good old days when country dwellers didn't use alarm clocks — they just got up with the chickens? I guess I need to move the coup closer to the bedroom window. For sure those roosters are more reliable than my alarm clocks.
