I'm about to lose my sun clock. There's alight fixture attached to the eaves outside my south-facing bedroom window, and in fall and winter it casts a shadow on the window blinds. As the sun crosses the sky the shadow passes from one end of the blinds to the other, and I can roughly tell what time it is by the shadow's position. But as winter wears on, the shadow of the roof overhang gets lower and lower, and soon the shadow of the light fixture will be falling on the wall of the house below the window, and I'll no long be able to tell what hour it is. I should probably get an actual clock. The sun clock won't be back in commission until sometime in October.
Right now I'm about to go back to bed, and I'd like some sort of snack first, but there's nothing in the kitchen that appeals to me. I need to get an assortment of cookies. Also I'm almost out of milk, so cocoa is out of the question. It's time to start thinking about groceries again. Such an annoyance. The Grimms collected a number of fairy tales in which characters come into possession of magic tables. The characters set the table up and say "Little table, spread yourself!" and food magically appears on them. That's what I need. I would also settle for a replicator from that modern fairy tale, Star Trek. If I had one right now I'd have it replicate a cake donut with a light sprinkling of cinnamon sugar, and a cup of cocoa.
But I have neither magic table nor replicator, so I think I'll have to settle for my usual two or three squares of Belgian chocolate from Trader Joe's. Not very filling, but at least it keeps my tongue happy for a few minutes. The rest of me will have to be satisfied with going back to sleep.