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My first conscious memory of a clock was after I was married and went back home for the first time. I had married the love of my life and everything was going fine - but I just wanted to go "home." I was homesick. After being "home" for a few hours, I found myself alone just relaxing in Daddy's black, leather recliner and drinking in the sounds/smells of "home." Mama and Daddy had a large clock over the fireplace complete with a mesmerizing, swinging gold pendulum and rich, vibrant tones that played on the quarter hour. Nestling in that comfortable, old recliner and being quieted with the steady swing of the pendulum was soothing to the heart.