Spinning and Chiming

Spinning and Chiming

Noel Laflin

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The old, broken down grandfather’s clock – the one shielded in black plastic bags in the garage in order to keep most of the dust off – has begun to chime ever so sweetly when the washing machine hits the spin cycle.

Either the clock is too firmly pressed up against the washer, or the spin cycle has gotten out of control and needs adjusting.

I would put the clock back into the house, where it belongs, if I had both the space as well as an extra five hundred bucks it’ll take to have it repaired. The gears are dried out most likely. It happens to old clocks of this design every twenty-five years or so. Eddy, the clock guy has repaired both the cuckoo and the grandmother’s clock over the years. He is very good, and his prices reflect it.

The chimes never used to ring out like this. I am taking it as a sign that perhaps it’s time to come up with the cash, visit Eddy, and make space in the house for grand old Mr. Westminster once more. He’s been banished long enough apparently and has now chimed in on the subject.

Then again, the garage has never sounded so nice as when the spin cycle kicks in.