It was always at my grand parents’ house, and when my grandma died a couple of years ago, the house needed to be sold. Now that it has, various bits and pieces are being distributed, and I get the cuckoo clock. It was always a thing of fascination for me, and I was asked what I would particularly like. I chose that. It’s probably not worth much, and it’s pretty old, but I like it. I’ve just got home from a busy day, part of which was dropping by my parents to pick it up. I’ve got it working, and it’s ticking away happily.
It needs a bit of a fix, so I will probably take it into a repair shop in town over the next couple of weeks. One of the bellows has broken, so it only goes “cuck” and one of the hands needs replacing. Getting it mended will be money well spent.
It makes me happy - it’s a good thing to have. It also makes me sad because the people who owned it are no more, and it’s “home” has changed because of that. Anyway, it’s here, and at 9:30 it will chime and the little door will open, and the cuckoo will make it’s noise
For some reason, my grandma bought a couple for furbies. I seem to have “inherited” those too.
