Today as we “spring forward,” the one clock in our house we won’t rush to reset is our charming cuckoo, our most independent-minded timepiece. Like a retired guard dog that barely lifts his head when burglars stroll off with the family silver, our cuckoo long ago stopped being a reliable time keeper. It’s been elevated to clock emeritus, the pulse of our house. As for keeping time, well, let’s just say we don’t use it when we have to catch a train.

But we treasure our cuckoo clock just the same. Its tick-tock is the rhythm of breathing; it sounds as if it were meant to be. Besides, we have too few items in our possession that are this human – that work simply and not always efficiently, that can be fixed at home, and that when broken cannot be immediately replaced. Things like these are more than possessions; they are companions. Put enough of them in a house and you make it your own.