Introducing Anne and her Relationship to the Technology of Time

So, I'll kick off the introductions. I'm Anne; you can find out more about my academic interests on my college homepage; on the personal side, I'm a Quaker in a secular culture; a 4x mom (and just this fall a 2x mother-in-law, and this spring upcoming: a GRANDMOTHER!!!) here amongst 20-somethings; a commuter from midtown Philly who lives a good deal of the time on a farm in Virginia (when I'm not living in some fictional world or another, which is where I actually spend most of my time).

All that aside, I'm finding it a little bit hard to answer my own prompt here: I'm thinking of traditional "feminine" technologies that are important to me (I love to cook; and and I knit); of contemporary and to-me-ungendered ones (I live on/in my computer); and of how others, like the train, and its unremitting but also unpredictable schedule, have become increasingly important to me recently.

But I think I want to focus, for a moment here, on the clock: I'd like to meditate on the technologies of time--how it's kept; how it can expand or contract, independent of the clock; the ways in which I am driven by it and find myself free of it. Consider these, for example, these two contrasting representations of time:  Carolus Linnaeus' Floral Clock (which attends to the sleep of plants), and what my schedule looks like on Zimbra this week (when very little sleep is happening!)