...cuckoo clocks, I fear.

It started when a good friend of mine was closing his clock-shop and retiring. He was having serious health issues, just a long story with a real lesson about dialling life back and enjoying himself a bit once he had gone through the complex treatments that faced him. Anyway, as he was shutting shop he offered me this new-made Black Forest clock for half-price.



This is the real critter, and pretty typical of the breed with an ornate deeply carved case, lacquering of the wood but no painting, two weights load the chiming train and the timing train, and the bird the only animation. I gave it to my wife as a birthday present.

Back in the winter when my wife's brother was moving house, my wife spent a few days helping them get packed and unpacked. She came back with this one in non-running condition:



I fixed a couple of the mechanical features, then turned it over to another clock-maker friend of mine for a good clean, proper oiling, and setting things up having to do with the timing train. Just made a four-hour round-trip to pick it up today.

It's also the real deal, but this time an Alpine-style clock, a weight each for timing train, chiming trail, and a music box. The chiming train also has several animations more typical of these than the Black Forest style; not only is there the obligatory bird, but there is a goat that nods, the woodchopper in the front swings his axe, and a chimney sweep pops up and down out of the chimney. The carving is much simpler, but the paintwork is far more ornate.

You might wonder about the wall-hooks for the chains. They are an invention of mine as, when the weights are fully hoisted the chains are long enough that the free-end dam near reaches the floor. The hooks are soldered to brass tube of appropriate length so the weights fall either ahead of or behind the bight of the chain without snagging. Why? Quite simply because Lucy the Micro-panther likes batting at the dangling chains when the weights are hoisted, and we don't need the clock getting pulled down if she gets a claw hooked, then panics.

Now, the serious clock collector might sneer at German kuckucksuhr as pieces of kitsch aimed at tourists, but I've come to appreciate the real ones as legitimate regional folk art in their different styles.