The bridge into autumn
The clocks have officially "gone back" marking the end of what is known, ironically, as "British Summertime." We now enter a period of anxiety and confusion as attempts are made to put-right all the clocks in the house. In some cases (the older clocks) this is a simple matter of turning a knob. In others, the ribbed end of the knob has come-off, leaving just a thin metal pin, which takes an age and not a little physical pain to wind.
More seriously, the clocks on electronic devices require many hours of trial and error. There is no point consulting the "instruction" manual as it will become apparent that the explanation will either have been translated from a little-known Amazonian dialect or will be shown in childlike drawings, which even children can't interpret.
The result of this endeavour is that each room in the house currently has its own time zone, so that a walk around the house leads to serious jet lag. The kitchen seems to exist in two different time zones, separated by a far from straight line, like the mid Pacific Ocean, leaving inhabitants unsure what day it is.
Oh, how we laugh!