Although any statement I make in my house involving science is automatically tossed aside with a giant hearty laugh, I really thought I had a decent handle on math.
I announced in my first post that because someone threw down the gauntlet and challenged me to catalog the absurd things that either take place in my brain or on top of our mountain, I had agreed to write about them for one year. And one year equals fifty-two weeks, does it not? But this will be my fifty-fourth post for a once a week blog.
And seeing as the Mayas had many of us convinced we needn’t have set our alarm clocks for Friday, the 21st of December—and because of that I was late for yoga—I’m guessing that those fellas were working off the same abacus I’ve been using.
Mine seems to have an extra bead.
Not entirely sure what their excuse is though, which is really bothersome, as I have a basement stocked with canned goods, ammunition and wearable sleeping bags. Plus, I’ve skimmed through every survivalist handbook I could check out from the local bookmobile lounge, which has to take every other Saturday off to transform into the Mammogrammobile. It turns out I’ll need to return my borrowed books, as they now have a noteworthy due date. Fingers crossed it’s next Saturday. (Kill two birds with one stone.)
I suppose in truth, the rest of my end-of-the-world provisions will come in handy, because one simply needs to add a vat of Crisco to have all the essentials for a full day up here on Hootenanny Hillock.
And that is ultimately my theme here today. We’ve been issued a continuance.
An extension. A prolongation. A get-a-bloomin-move-on.
Worldly scholars warned us all about this unhealthy habit we as a society have fostered—the one where we’re all constantly looking for Armageddon. But perhaps worldly psychologists would roll their collective eyes at us and tell us to just schedule a Giant Day Off.
Maya historians have attempted to explain the whole calendar phenomena: the big hand on the clock finally ticking over to the thirteen b’aktun, the terminology and explanation of the Long Count and the Maya’s penchant for keeping track of celestial cycles, but I guess many of us were too absorbed by the phrase, “Marks the end,” to follow along and hear the rest of the words that completed the sentence. It could have been, “—of how far into the future they were willing to schedule dentist appointments.” Or, “—date when all the perishables in the lowest cave should finally be tossed.
It could have been anything.
In fact, there are more Maya dates on cave walls that are still being unearthed today. And nobody’s got a clue as to what they all mean—except maybe Mel Gibson, who I’m pretty sure speaks ancient Mayan, right?
My fear is that this date was of cosmic importance. Perhaps the Maya were pointing out the lining up of some planetary, spherical or solar dynamics and that at the precise date of December 21, 2012, 6:12 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, a portal would open, something would unlock, a gate would unhinge.
All I know is that at that particular moment, Sir Sackier nudged me from sleep and told me to put my arms down and stop mumbling. Apparently, I’d been speaking to the Mothership and was reaching out for a leg up. Now we’ll never know. I might have been the key that unlocked this huge mystery.
Or it might be time for me to stop drinking so heavily before bedtime.
The point is, I’ve got no other choice than to Keep Calm and Carry On.
I know… the signs are everywhere—and quite probably a message from the Maya. They knew this would happen.
Therefore, I’m taking the message to heart. I shall persevere with the blog. The perspective from up here on my peak is that, in looking back over the past 53 essays, it’s clear I’ve still much to do. There are stalls to muck out, gardens to destroy, teenagers to aggravate, letters to be written just for the sheer pleasure of annoying bureaucrats, roasts to scorch and above all, arithmetic to master.
In light of this announcement, I’d like to wish you all a Happy New Year and hope you’ll return to read about life up here from my perspective.
The air may be a little thin, but the future is fat with ample tales.
Don’t forget to check out what’s cookin’ in the Scullery this week (here) and what we’re all talkin’ about down in the pub (here)!
14 thoughts on “The Mayas were dead wrong; yes, dead, but most importantly wrong.”
Thank you for continuing another year of your blog.. I look forward to your weekly ;take on life and family. It was the NPR one that first caught my attention. I wonder… any thought to an audio version of your blog? Yes… troublemaker I am. ;-). And, for what it’s worth, I think you have mastered the sciences, math included (e.g. number of drinks at a “kay-lee”, number of birds to kill at bookmobile, specific fractions, times, and temps in recipes, number of words in a blog, not to mention number of blogs… yes, you have mastered.). If your family doubts… I can provide an anti-doubt motivation idea that you can apply (e.g. mom spit… your solution for not only mobile cleaning solution but also water spots on glasses and cutlery… and the “kicker” concept … water spots only bother you when being derided for lack of science/math background … be sure to use this solution when all are sitting at dinner table… demonstrate and watch the facial reactions carefully). They will be instant converts. So, thank you again for your great writing and Happy New Year!
Thank you, Gary, for such kind words and sage advice. As far as my math conundrum, I thank my lucky stars my ancestor’s penchant for breeding with farm animals hasn’t left a genetic imprint on my human form, as I rely on whipping off my shoes and utilizing all toes for help in that department. In regards to the sciences … my daughter would argue that my method of “think positively and you can make it so” does not resonate well with researchers and lab techs. I will try the magic spit routine for good measure, but they are a tough bunch.
Happy New Year to you too, Gary! 🙂
Ahhh… but you are under the spell of the South… and your “think positive” attitude is perfectly viable… quote Stonewall to your daughter… “You may be whatever you resolve to be.” … granted, the man wasn’t quite right (e.g. bit quirky), but… that makes the retort even better. You are a gem! Take care, Gary
And if I am still met with stern resolve, I shall quote him once more–“Then, Sir, we will give them the bayonet!”
That’ll teach ’em, right?
Do you remember the “survival” bunker that my buddy and I made a mired (almost literally) attempt to build over a period of several of our youth years? All that tin we hauled up from the old boat house down by the professor’s lake house. The multitude of pine logs we hauled from a log house (just begun by a man left unnamed for reasons of self survival… (you think he ever noticed those logs missing?).
We had the entire thing dug out; nearly 7 feet deep and 15 feet in odd length, or there abouts. It even had a toilet room, which, to my poor recollection is where I do believe we stopped building due to not being able to agree how to properly dispose of any waste and, most importantly how to vent the dang thing as neither of us were willing to live underground and have to use the same bathroom. Ugg!
Hey, do you think that’s where the boot company got its name from… stepping in poo and someone wearing the boot said, “Ugg!@*!” Sorry, I digress.
If we only knew about the Mayan calendar thing earlier, we could have made a fortune. However, I do recall the a**-woop’n I received for nearly burning out father’s lawn tractor from hauling all of those very heavy logs up the hill with it. Hey, it had a motor, tires and free gas so we took advantage of it.
Well, best I get go’n as I’ve got to figure out a way to make up for a lost bet that the Mayans were right. I’m on dinner, dish and laundry duty for the next century.
Much love a respect,
Do I remember? The sounds of the belt lashings you received for all your shenanigans is firmly burned into my auditory memory. Invisible scars that have left me in debt because of all the therapy I now receive. No worries, I’ve got the twitching under control, but sadly I can’t attend horse pulls any longer. Farmers and the jolting snap of a whip sends me into a wild panic. Your fault.
And have patience with the whole “end of the world” festival. There’s another one around the corner. Plague? War? No, wait, I think this next one is an asteroid.
Happy New Year, bud!
Indeed, such a joy to be given a repieve, to wake up to a new day; new eyes and all.
So glad to be looking forward to the “fresh” perspectives from the Peak…not peaked, but Peak. Happy New Year, Indeed!
Thank you for such lovely optimism. I shall do my level best to bring round two of crisp and sparkling commentary on the mundane and humdrum to your inbox. I shall lie through my teeth if need be, but only for artistic purposes. Happy New Year!
Huzzah for more weeks of observations from the mountaintop! They are such a joy. Have a wonderful celebration and a Happy 2013!!
Such sweet sentiments, Monica. Many thanks for your continued reading. My hope is that 2013 will be full of weeks worthy of observing. Otherwise, I’m forced to tap into other people’s lives. And restraining orders are hard to shrug off.
Happy New Year to you too!
I’m so glad that you’ve decided to persevere in blog LOL… Motherships are severely overrated so, as tempting as it may be, please stay here on earth and continue to amuse us!
I’ve enjoyed popping into your corner of the blog in 2012 and always look forward to your witty ways! Happy New Year to you and your family Shelley x x x
Thank you. Thank you for the New Year’s wishes, for reading my blethering words, and for writing and posting such lovely ones yourself. I, too, look forward to what addles your brain come the next twelve months. And if all else fails for us, we can book a double the next swing round of the ISS. Here’s to next year, PJ! Writers or roommates. 🙂 Cheers!
I have been waiting for doomsday (21st december ) since 2012 (as it was 12/12/2012) and yet !… Anything that bad happened!…I even joined a Prepper Group online… And built a shelter on the woods .
I require a refund because I so much wanted to face Apocalipsis!
Great post as always, Shelley. All the best to you, Aquileana 😀
What a visual, Aquileana. And some how I’m not surprised to hear about the efforts you put into preparing for your final days. Did you write a post about it? I’d love to read it if you have.
Glad you liked this silly little ditty. It’s always so lovely to see your words here. Cheers!