2064. If tomorrow…

– If this year was a leap year then tomorrow would be a leap day.

– But it’s not a leap year so tomorrow’s not a leap day.

– I never said it was. I just said if this year was a leap year then tomorrow would be a leap day.

– I heard you the first time. And it’s not a leap day tomorrow.

– I read where women can propose marriage on a leap day.

– I don’t know if that’s true.

– I just said it was. Don’t you believe me?

– I simply said I didn’t know if it was true or not.

–  It’s always the same. You don’t believe a single thing I say. You don’t believe anything unless you read it yourself. You’ll believe anyone blabbing on in social media before you believe anything I say.

– That’s probably not true.

– Anyway don’t expect me to propose tomorrow because even though women can propose on a leap day I have no intention of doing that.

– Tomorrow’s not a leap day. It’s not a leap year. I’m not expecting a proposal.

– Oh God! You’re so unreasonable.

1747. A running leap!

Professor Peter Plummer thought the idea of leap years was massively odd; if a year is divisible by four it is a leap year, unless, if it’s divisible by 100 then it is a leap year only if it is also divisible by 400. He was Professor of Mathematics at Oxford University and found the whole leap year thing a little too much to manage.

Professor Peter came up with an alternative. It became so popular that it was adopted by the United Nations and by all countries in the world (except for Slovakia).

Every year is given an extra six hours, added on January 1st. That meant that six in the morning became twelve in the morning. A year later twelve in the morning would be again six on the clock. It was nothing to remember that every second year the clocks were simply six hours ahead. Adoption of this methodology had surprising repercussions. People became so confused as to what time it was that they start getting up at daybreak and going to bed at nightfall. They would eat salads and cold meats in summer and hot stews in winter. They lived according to the light; according to the season; according to the temperature.

After a while the world (except for Slovakia) discarded the calendar altogether. Who needs such an artificial contrivance when all that is needed to live a good life is to look at the sky and say things such as “I think it’s going to rain” or “My word, the days seem to be drawing out”? Who needs to know that it is August the 11th or March the 24th? And after a year or two, people would begin to say I know it’s my birthday because on my birthday the sun rises exactly over that little knob on that nearby hill.

With Professor Peter Plummer’s method, every year would be a leap year (unless you live in Slovakia).

Happy Leap Day everyone!

872. Leap Day

It was 29th February in a Leap Year. (Not that it’s possible to have a February 29th in any year other than a Leap Year.) Jerome was feeling pretty upbeat. It felt as if he was getting a day for nothing. It was free. He’d take the day off work, unpaid; after all, there were still 365 other days in the year. His annual wages would stay the same.

He packed a picnic lunch and drove off towards the hills. He thought he’d walk the “famous” tourist track. He’d never done it. Everyone said the view was spectacular. There were no shops during the five hour walk. One had to take one’s own food and water.

Walk it he did. He took some lovely photos. He had a nice conversation with others walking the trail. His lunch was most pleasant. The track went in a circle so it ended in the same place as the parked cars.

A good thing to do on a Leap Day! Pleasant indeed!

See! (O Those of You-Who-Are-Cynical-Readers) not all events of life are tragic or full of surprises or over-the-top extraordinary.

It had been a delightful way to spend the day prior to dying in his sleep that night.

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