Saving my Thursday/Thorsday story.

Last night I could hardly get a wink of sleep for worrying how I could possibly write today’s final episode in this series of posts about the origins of English names for the days of the week.

Because my intended tale about Thor, the legendary hammer-wielding so-called ‘Thunderer’ and how he’s memorialised in the word ‘Thursday’ had come to seem too tame and tedious for words compared with the terrific thought that a reader had come up with in a comment on yesterday’s “Bee and Hump Day” post.

As you can check back for yourself if you feel like it, the reader in question, a former Malaysian high-flier who now lives a more down-to-earth life with her beloved offspring and felines in Scotland, completely stole my thunder, Thorsdaywise, by brainstorming the far more interesting if admittedly wildly historically-inaccurate term Thirstday.

And the more I considered my possible options for competing with or even co-opting this lightning-flash of inspiration, the more I realised that, out of deep respect for the fair and sometimes fearsome female sex in general, and my friend’s sex-appeal and possibly hex-potential in particular, as well as the fact that she’s a visual artist and I’m just a verbal or verbull-artist, I had no recourse but to give her due credit for it.

But having duly done this, at considerable cost to what mercifully little remains of my ego after almost a lifetime of criticism of my creative efforts by clients, editors and, as in this case, discerning readers, I still feel the urge to try and merge thirst and Thor in some meaningful manner.

By making the point, for example, that Thor and the rest of the gang of Viking gods and goddesses must surely have worked-up absolutely raging thirsts in the process of creating and running the world, and thus must surely have had needed to get well and truly hammered at the end of especially stressful days.

With the result that they almost certainly suffered thundering headaches on all those mornings-after, and that it doubly or even triply stands to reason that the English names of our days of the week are such obvious hang-overs from those of the aquavit-tipplers and topers in ancient Valhalla.

And the connection between the elements of the Thursday/Thorsday/Thirstday trilogy is not just historical, but also extremely relevant in the here and now, as today, even as I sit here writing, at 3:39pm Sydney time on May 21, 2020, Thor is rumbling if not outright thundering overhead, and my own, my daughter’s and millions of other gardens and farms that have been thirsting through a long dry-spell are joyfully soaking-up the resultant showers of rain.

While later this afternoon my daughter, in her professional role of part-time bar manager at the Merton Hotel, Rozelle, will be busy slaking the thirsts of patrons now permitted to drink in public with their pals after an extended spell of drowning their self-isolation sorrows at home.

Meanwhile, just to show that any cold, hard feelings I might have had when it initially struck me that her ‘Thirstday’ concept was so superior to my ‘Thorsday’ one have by now well-and-truly thawed, I must end by sending my friend in Scotland my warmest wishes for gentle Spring showers followed by enough bursts of sunshine to bring out her favourite flowers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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