As if you didn’t know, the clocks go back on Sunday. This is to make mornings lighter and evenings darker. I find it odd that the country that keeps the world’s time at Greenwich changes its own time twice a year and doesn’t stick to GMT.

“Hey world, Greenwich Mean Time says it’s noon, so work your own times out from that.”

“So it’s noon in Great Britain?”

“Well, actually it’s one o’clock, but don’t let that bother you.”

The only country, in fact, that keeps to GMT all year round is Iceland.

Which is another oddity in time.

Daylight saving time was actually used in the ancient world. Romans would change the setting of their water clocks to make better use of the seasons.

For generations, when ordinary people had no clocks, rural folk woke with the dawn and worked until dusk.

Builder and inventor William Willett was the man who agitated for British Summer Time at the start of the last century.

He liked an early morning horseback ride and noticed that people were still in bed even though the sun was shining.

He campaigned to have clocks changed from GMT in the summer so that evenings would remain lighter longer and the nation would save £2.5 million in lighting costs.

The Government finally accepted the suggestion in 1916 as a war measure to help boost production and save money.

During the Second World War time became even more confusing. To help the war effort the Government imposed Double British Summer Time when clocks were two hours ahead of GMT in the summer and one hour ahead in the winter.

This meant we had summer time in winter and double summer time in summer.

There has been a debate over the efficiency of changing time ever since the system was adopted and in 1968 the nation tried British Standard Time.

Clocks went forward as usual in March but did not go back again in the autumn.

The experiment lasted three years but no-one could agree the best arrangement and so we returned to what we have now.

Which means Sunday is the official end of British summer time, which is a laugh because summer ended a long time ago. And despite the practise being long standing, we still get it wrong.

Some people put their clocks forward instead of back and thus start the day two hours before everybody else and wonder why the roads are so quiet and the paper shop isn’t open.

So don’t forget to set your timepiece correctly the night before and remember: spring forward and fall back.

Pobs continue to spark memories and speculation.

Most people remember it as bread broken into hot milk and sprinkled with sugar although some readers have had them as a savoury dish.

Norman Mellor, of Meltham, says: “While I remember pobs very well and enjoyed them my recollection was having salt and pepper rather than sugar on them and having them in Oxo. This was in the early 1940s. Think I’ll try them again, might help me sleep.”

Wilf Battye, of Scholes, says that when soldiers had hard bread they soaked it in milk or wine. It was called pobulums.

Mike Shaw, a previous contributor, said he understood pobs to date from Roman times, when legionnaires would similarly soak their bread in milk or wine.

But where does the word pobs originate?

Pabulum is in the dictionary and is described as a “solution of nutrients in a state suitable for absorption” which sounds to be vaguely in the right gastronomic area.

It is also said to come from the Latin: pabulum meaning food or nourishment.

Other research suggested it comes from medieval times when the cheapest bread was peasebread and soon went stale.

It was soaked in milk or wine to soften it. Peasebread got shortened to pobs.

Barry Chambers, of Lockwood, says: “I have never eaten the pobs you referred to in hot milk and sprinkled with sugar. Pobs, to me, is plain bread sprinkled on soup or stew and I first heard the term in Barnsley. Some people fry their pobs and call them croutons – but probably not in Barnsley.

“My understanding of the word is much simpler than other explanations. I always thought it stood for Pieces Of Bread.”

Sue Kitching, of Linthwaite, adds: “Have read your pieces on pobs with nostalgia. They were a favourite comfort food whenever I was ill as a child. As regards the origin of the name, I always understood it to be an acronym: Pieces Of Bread Soaked? Anyone else agree?”

It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

When a royal invitation from a princess arrived at the Examiner office my colleagues immediately thought of me.

Which is why they forwarded the following email: “Dearest One,” which, you have to admit, is a promising start.

“Am Princess Namtabal Nayal Karim, the daughter of Late King Karim Namtabal, and I will love to have a common relationship with you.”

Hang on, a minute. Common? What does she mean? Is she making fun of my name?

Her English isn’t great in the rest of the message but you get the drift: “And need to tell you more about me has my father was a king before his death. I’d love any person who is caring, loving and home oriented. I will love to have a long-term relationship with you and tell you mere about myself and to know more about you. I shall appreciate your urgent response.”

Yes, it’s another scam but allow a chap to dream for a moment. Even if the email had been genuine I wouldn’t have dared respond. I married an Italian princess and she wouldn’t like it if I started flirting online.

The things she can do with a garlic press!