Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Cuckoo?

It's 8 a.m., I'm sitting at the kitchen table ripping a restaurant review out of the morning paper, and a cuckoo clock chimes upstairs.

Which would be all right if we actually owned a cuckoo clock.

S., upstairs, hears it, too, but suggests that maybe the chiming came from outside.

Why would anyone be walking by our house in a drizzly, dreary rain carrying a cuckoo clock? It makes no sense.

I call L. at work, leave a message on his machine when he doesn't answer. He calls back a few minutes later to say that maybe a cuckoo clock happened to be one of the distinctive rings he's programed into the new phones.

Which would make sense if I'd heard the chiming coming from the phone that's on the counter next to the kitchen table instead of from upstairs.

I'm holding out for a poltergeist and a repeat performance at 9 a.m.

Edited to say: Cuckoo clock at 9 a.m.

Edited to say: It's booklogged's site that makes it cuckoo! I had A Reader's Journal minimized this morning for further perusal.

5 comments:

M. Barresi said...

You have a phantom cuckoo clock and today, I walked up to the elevator and it miraculously opened! I guess it's one of those days.

(any cuckoo at 10 a.m.?)

sfp said...

At 8, 9, and 10. At 10 I figured out it was coming from the computer. I closed the minimized window to booklogged's blog and heard no chimes at 11 or 12. I reopened and minimized the blog, and then heard the cuckoo again at 1. Mystery solved!

I'm very tempted to add that bit of Javascript to my own blog. :)

Carl V. said...

That's hilarious, I heard that faintly in the background at my house the other day when I was browsing through sites and finally realized it was the RJ site.

Stefanie said...

This is very funny! :)

litlove said...

I'd rather have a fantastic solution. The ghost of the cuckoo clock that told the time for the 19th century midwife who used to live in your house, etc, etc. The computer thing could be a spurious correlation. I'll hold out for the magical.