Yes, the word stund is a real word out here on the Edge. A Newfoundland word. It is exactly as it sounds. Usually applied to a person. Spelt just like that. A half-wit. Stupid. Moronic.
I was out with my good friend last night. A long drive back and forth to St. John's about 100k from here. A trek. But I was driven and that is so lovely. I must have racked up in my lifetime over 1,000,000 miles of my own driving. I do love driving so that's a bonus, but even more so nowadays I love being driven.
We're chatting in the way of good friends, when out of the blue I said to him:
"When is Daylight Savings Time? Shouldn't we have had it by now?"
Long silence.
"You're joking, right kid?"
"No, shouldn't we have had it in May?"
"Are you stund?"
"Wha?"
"We had it in March, b'y. Are you thinking of Solstice on the 21st of June?"
"Yeah, yeah, that's right. Of course." And I changed the topic.
But you know? I'd been harbouring that thought for a while, why on earth didn't we have DST in 2015 so far? But naturally not sharing it. Because. Well, I don't know. Stund. But I trust him enough to share my newfound dementia.
So Daughter was over today and I finally blurted it out to her. And we sat there staring at each other.
"Oh, my gawd," sez Daughter, snapping her fingers, "I've got it".
"What, what?"
"That was the time of your concussion!"
"Shyte. Yes!" Relief, oh, the flood of relief.
And then we talked about what an extraordinary organ the brain is. How some files get damaged after a blow to the head or spine and recover or just get deleted. I wonder what else is missing from my internal files.
But something I can't answer is: who adjusted all the clocks in my house to the new time? AND my car.
Something in my head was on autopilot. And that's pretty amazing too, when you think about it.
