The End Of The World !s Nigh!

I've been quite perplexed about the seriousness with which some people seem to have taken the end of the world predictions. Perhaps that's overstating it though, as I had no idea anything out of the ordinary was expected to happen last weekend and I've only more or less caught up with the whole kerfuffle this week.

I read something on FB about people wondering which time zone something they referred to as Rapture was referring to ... New Zealand? Eastern Australian time? or where the prediction was coming from which seemed to be the USA. My friends seemed to be idly wondering which calendar was being used for the prediction as well. there are quite a few in use after all - it was all a little perplexing.  If I'd spent more than 2 seconds thinking about the so-called prediction, I would have come to the conclusion that it was all a bit sus.*

Anyhow, it was my hubby's birthday and we were going to celebrate, end of the world or not!

You may wonder why I am so sanguine about THE END OF THE WORLD which I'm sure will be accompanied by dramatic and extremely atmospheric organ music.

My mother was born in 1916 and used to tell the following story.

As a little girl she remembered being dressed in a new white frilly Sunday Best dress. Except it wasn't Sunday, and she wasn't used to having new clothes. Mostly her clothes were hand-me-downs from her older sister. She was absolutely delighted and wanted to twirl and dance, but the atmosphere was sombre. Her older sister helped her with her new socks and shoes, brushed her hair till it shone, then tied it with a bow.

The whole family, sisters, parents, aunts and uncles, grandmas and grandpas, many neighbours, farm workers and mill hands all dressed with extra care. Those who could afford it were wearing new clothes. They then proceeded with great solemnity to trek to the highest point of the highest hill near their small village in Norfolk, England.

Hymn sheets were passed around, prayers said, absolution made. Then they raised their voices to heaven and waited for the light of Jesus to carry them to heaven.

They raised their voices to heaven again and waited   and waited   and waited

I often think they must have felt a little awkward when they finally came to the realisation that nothing was going to happen and they'd need to pick up the hymn sheets, go home and get dinner for the no doubt confused and possibly squabbling children.

Some people had apparently sold all their belongings including houses and all their goods and chattles. I wonder what happened to them? Did the preacher apologise, put them up, feed them and help them find their feet again afterwards? I don't understand the motivation other than an abnormally greedy desire for power and the enjoyment of having gullible people fawning over your empty words.

I remember my mother saying that their particular preacher continued to change the dates and claim that the next time was the right date. Some parishioners believed him, but there were less and less as time went on.

My mother's family never went up to the top of the hill again. They emigrated to Australia instead. I think they were right to be skeptical after being duped once, and I'm confident mum would have smiled at the latest doomsday preacher.

A good spot to hang out and wait for the end of the world.

* suspect or suspicious

O. Outrageous!

Based on a true story:
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“Outrageous! His assignment on ‘onomatopoeia’ is overdue. I don’t care he’s off-colour. I allowed him an overnight extension. His output is atrocious, I’ll make him pay”.*

Aggressive ogre. This teacher couldn’t know my charge’s awful origins. My lips were sealed.

The child’s serial abuser had been outed on the news. Confidentiality essential. I was obliged to pour oil on her spluttering objections, to speak calmly and objectively. It was a tall order.

I negotiated, omitting identifying details. It was all one way. I offered an olive branch - the work would be on her overfull desk by morning.

Outrageous? Indeed.

Some teachers like to intimidate.
Berlin 2009.

***
*A teacher used those last four words about a disadvantaged teenager I was working with.

A Drabble is a story told in 100 words No more, no less.

Here tomorrow: Penguins


Click here to find out how to do a hyperlink signature.

Over at traverselife, I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.
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N. Nincompoop & napalm

I'd like to thank San over at Informed Sharing for her perceptive review of my blogs. I am not only honoured, but humbled that the information I share at traverselife and the fun I have with words at JumpingAground has been acknowledged so thoughtfully and generously. Thankyou San.
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Chimney near East Side Gallery

Noooooooooooooooo! There’s a naughty nincompoop nodding under the bed, it’s making me scared of the night. I feel nauseous when I see its navel.

NASA took a neat photo of it but Nana said it wasn’t nice even though it’s a native of Norway. I prefer nasturtiums; they don’t make noise unlike the nasty nincompoop, Nathan. It goes “Nnrgh Nnrgh” and tries to nip the nape of my neck.

Could its neuroses be caused by *napalm? The Vets said "NO" to its use. Some never recovered and need a nightlight. They won’t talk about it even if you ask nicely.**
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* I'm aware that Napalm and Agent Orange are different chemical concoctions, and that Agent Orange was used extensively in Vietnam, whereas Napalm was an earlier era weapon. But I needed a word that started with N.  I also wanted to acknowledge the dreadful damage done to our Vietnam Veterans, and the people of Vietnam by its use.

**I'm also aware that this drabble doesn't make any sense at all. It's Saturday, we're half way through the challenge. I'm tired. It is what it is.

Apologes to all my Norwegian friends - you know I think you're marvellous.

East Side Gallery is in Berlin. For some reason today I can't add any more words and keep the formatting.

A Drabble is a story told in 100 words No more, no less. (I hope it counts even if it doesn't make sense)

Here tomorrow: Oh darn, I'm stuck for ideas ... it'll be a surprise!

Over at traverselife, I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.

E. Environment & Ethics. A-Z challenge

This Karri tree (Eucalyptus diversicolor) is known as the 'Gloucester Tree'
It's not a Mountain Ash (Eucalyptus regnans) but it's huge too.

It’s exciting to see the enormous eucalypts (the Mountain Ash) near Emerald. You should exercise extreme caution when driving around that environment and don't raise your eyes to the tops of the trees particularly in the evening when the echidnas are eating or you might hit an oncoming car if you get distracted and be eliminated entirely.

Wouldn’t it be great if everyone could entrust sound environmental management to enormous corporations and know they would ensure the longevity of our Earth. Unfortunately they ensnare those of questionable morality and enlist their support.

Many would get an *E for ethical behaviour.

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*In Australia an E is a fail grade

A Drabble is a story told in 100 words No more, no less.

Here tomorrow: Fretful

Over at traverselife, I'm spending the month looking at different aspects of bullying.

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Ethical paper and the UN International Year of Forests

I was in the process of writing about ethical paper use, got distracted by a link on FB about one of our major paper providers, and wrote the following Drabble in response:

*
Officeworks is a trap for those susceptible to “shoppers vortex”. You know, the one where you get sucked in, and can’t find the exit? You wander aimlessly around the aisles mesmerised by glittery knickknacks, helpless to extract yourself from the vortex’s pull.

Unfortunately, Officeworks stocks Reflex paper.

Australian Paper, which makes Reflex, uses trees logged from native forests in our beautiful Central Highlands and Strzelecki Ranges to help make the paper. This impacts on waterways, plants and our endangered state emblem the Leadbeater’s Possum.

Reflex, it’s the International Year of Forests. Think of the future. Act ethically. Use plantation timbers.

*

A 100 word Drabble might not be the best vehicle to share information, but it saved me getting too hot under the collar, and stopped me rambling on and on.

The ABC aired an amazing documentary "Out of the Ashes" last week about the devastation created by the horrendous bushfires 2 years ago. The footage is fantastic!  They refer to the fish, Leadbeater's Possum and other creatures affected, as well as the forests and people and show what has happened since the fires, and how they are recovering (from the fires, not the logging).