Tempus fugit - time flees - not time flies as is the common misconception. That would be something like tempus volvit, but the linguist among us can correct me - over to you Gayé. How we came to translate it as time flies is just probably that it makes more sense in English that way.

On languages, while we’re on the subject, I am considering making a representation to the Terminology Committee of Foras na Gaeilge - If the act of shopping is translated as ag siopadóireacht, then surely going to the Italian take-away should be ag chipeadóireacht and likewise, buying sweet and sour pork with fried rice should be ag chineadóireacht.

Anyway, back to time. Why am I obsessed with it these days? I seldom rush. Rushing leads to mistakes. If I’m going somewhere, I leave early and am never late. An erstwhile Mrs. Sneeze insisted we, or rather I, try the leave early so she’d never be late system, and while it worked, it wasn’t any fun. She got dumped fairly rapid I tell you. Bad hair anyway. But that’s a story for another day.

Now I’m not advocating being painstakingly slow either, which is something I must explain to the staff down my local.

I know what time the sun rises and sets. I know when it’s midday. That would be enough for me were it not that a lot more precision is required when dealing with people. The dog is happy being fed at dawn, a good ramble and a chat at noon and a snack at dusk. People don’t seem to like me saying I’ll meet you 2 hours after sunrise. So I am forced into wearing a watch.

And a grand watch it is. I have it 12 years and like most of my possessions it came to me in a roundabout way. A lad bought it off a lad who was a jeweller for half-price as a gift for his father, only to realise that his father couldn’t use it because of failing sight. He sold it on to me at half what he paid. So I got a £200 watch for £50. 5 year guarantee and all.

The problem is the winder broke off three times. The first two repairs cost me more than the watch itself so I’m not getting it fixed again. It wasn’t an issue until the beginning of this month when the date needed changing. But I could live without having the correct date. Now though, I’ve bigger problem. The hour has changed. Instead of being 24 hours out, I’m 25. Or 23. Hard to work out and very confusing.

In the shop this morning, the talk was all of changing clocks. My watch is 23 hours slow was met with strange looks. But I’m used to that. Just yesterday in the same shop I asked the girl do you do laces and when she said yes, I lifted my foot up on the counter. She actually tied them by the way.

So here’s what I want for Christmas in case you were thinking of getting me something. A portable sundial. See it’s got a little compass and spirit level built in. Perfect. No adjustments needed and what moving parts there are, are all enclosed.