Tic Toc, Bong, Bong...
My mother has always had two clocks. One was given to her by my deceased father's brother. It ticks with it's pendulum annoyingly taking up sound space. Every hour all day. The other is from 1889, her grandmother's clock that sits and ticks on a dresser. It must be perfectly level to work. It too reminds us what the fuck time it is hourly. The oldest must be wound on Sundays and Wednesdays. The 'Uncle's clock' must be wound every Sunday.
They've both stopped ticking recently. She has not been aware or able to wind them. I think to myself, "Oh Jesus, peace," for I will not buy a clock that makes frickin noise. Not a dime store AA battery piece of noise.
They may have been in the family since the 1500's as far as I'm concerned, but I'll never be a slave to the winding of an annoying frickin clock. If family won't take them, they'll burn. So I can have peace and quiet.