When you arrive in the Mission as either a young or old missionary, your dwellings are kind of pot-luck, as are the furnishings. We inherited an old-ish clock hung on a wall. One night, a crash in the living room awakened us both; the clock had fallen and was broken up. I fixed it, and hung it more securely.
In our new digs, I hung it in the kitchen, where the tile goes all the way to the ceiling. It fell. I fixed it. OK, this time I made sure the wall was clean and degreased, and hung it again. It fell. I fixed it.
By this point, I was beginning to suspect psychopathology of our seemingly suicidal timepiece. I scrubbed the wall and used a brand-new hook and adhesives. However, this time I am taking no chances.
If it leaps again, at least I won't have to buy any more glue. Clock-Prozac perhaps, but no more glue.
We hope that your clocks are more content.
Dave & Paula