She’s on the phone, railing to a fellow church member about the first days of Daylight Saving Time. “Oooh! I just hate it!” she tells her friend, Betty Quick, who agrees.
But really now, what can we say about the extra hour of daylight except that we’re glad it’s finally here? Each year — it seems since we married in 1966 — I’ve used the parable of the man whose blanket failed to cover his feet, leaving him shivering in bed. So he cut a foot off the top of the blanket and sewed it to the bottom. Problem solved. But maybe not.