This morning, my mother was delighted to turn her clock back, thus ridding herself of the evil daylight savings time. In discussion of the whole daylight savings debate, she quoted a story she had been told by a someone of American Indian origin. “Only a Government would think that by cutting two inches off the top of the blanket and stitching it back onto the bottom of the blanket would actually make the blanket longer“. Good point.

But for those that live by the clock  in a time based world, daylight savings is a necessary evil. Businesses, particularly those on the east coast border of QLD and NSW are caught in the time warp.  And while the divide between those that do and those that don’t is only an hour, the gap between East and West can be anything up to 3 hours.

Here, we don’t have it. Queensland adopted daylight saving in 1971, but abandoned it in 1972, introduced it again in 1989 but abandoned it following a referendum in 1992.  The referendum results were close: being 45.5% for it, but 54.5% against. Although the population discusses the whole daylight savings debate, for the politicians, daylight savings in Queensland is the elephant in the kitchen.

WA adopted daylight saving in 1974, but abandoned it following a referendum in 1975.  It then reintroduced it in 1983-84 only to abandon it again following a referendum during 1984. A further referendum in 1992 stopped it being introduced again.  Another trial began in 2006 and finished yesterday. And then – you guessed it - another referendum will be held on Saturday 16th May.

In Victoria and NSW you have the clocks marching forward each year without the need for constant referendums. But the support for daylight savings within our South Eastern cousins also seems divided.

Either way – some are for it, some against.

Me – I wish we had it here in QLD. (Although all the calculations in my head when I want to call family in Victoria or Western Australia does do my head in a bit).

What about you – are you daylight saver or are you concerned  for your fading curtains and soured cows milk?

… and it’s only round one.

Today I got to wear my ‘worst mother in the world’ hat.

Geek boy’s chess thing is today.  The bus left school at 8.00 to transport the team across Brisbane. (How did I miss this information?) I dropped him off at 8.15, as usual, with a kiss and a wave.

I am home less than 30 seconds (and it’s a 15 minute drive) when the mobile chirps. It seems there is a very distraught boy in the office who missed the bus.

Righto, since I am already in the running for mother of the year, I’ll head back and collect him and drive him to other side of Brisbane High School.  Guilt pangs as  I hoon head back to the school.

~ Now let me interject here for a minute. I abhor lateness and am always up my family for tardiness. This morning, after my shower, I put on my oldest daggies and thongs. I never leave the house in bogan shoes, unless I know I am to be one of the great unseen.  When I unlock the car and park my rear, I am met with a warm wetness and a distinct smell of mushrooms.  Oh look, the sunroof was left open on my CRV. And it stormed here last night. Intensely. So I am in my daggy house pants, oldest pool singlet, wet hair lathered in conditioning treatment combed through and no make up, bogan shoes (thongs) but that’s all OK, because it’s not late and I have time to drop him off at school and have a leisurely cup of tea, open up the car in the sun, take out the floor mats and then do something with self to face the world proper. ~

Back to the matter. Still looking like someone from a housing commission, I hoon back to the school in my wet car and race to the office, where reception eye me dubiously. She tells me that geek boy is down in the library with two other boys who have missed the bus. If parental permission is attained, would I consider taking the other boys as well?

Seeing this as an opportunity to redeem myself in front of my son, I am graciously quick to affirm that indeed, I would be happy to  to do. So by 9.45 , I have three 11 year old boys in  wet car smelling like mushrooms (the boys and the car, I think) and I am zooming across town.

An hour later, the repercussions of being a bad mother come to haunt. I have no choice but to walk through a hall and yard full of high schoolers, my wet hair now dried, plastered to my scalp on the crown and frizzy ends, thong bogan feet, house clothes and all. Only the profuse thanks and looks of gratitude and appreciation on the face of my 3 charges stop me from slinking red faced back out the way I came.

The whole procedure ate 3 hours out of my morning.

The rest of my day will be spent finishing the celebration guilt chess cake.

It must be someone else’s turn to wear the hat.

Congratulations to my own little knight, who has been chosen as part of a team of 12 to represent his school in the inter-school chess championships.

First playoff is next Tuesday all the way across the other side of Brisbane. Good luck!

 (And a whole day away from school to attend - whoo hoo!)