NAMES AND THINGS

It is the start of another week. Monday morning. "I" is still outside. I have made a couple of dashes around the yard with some turkey but she will not give up the chase. So as I write, I am running in and out the door.

I have wondered, who in the heck gave names their names. Who decided Monday would be Monday, Tuesday and so on. I keep meaning to Google that some day . Strange things worry my mind. This is one of them. Monday could have just as easily been Friday, Friday Monday. Or they could have gone a completely different way, and gave days names like hot or cold. Why Monday, Tuesday, so forth.

I wonder the same about the seasons. Why did they give seasons the names they did. Now I can kind of work out spring. In spring the flowers, grass spring from the ground. Leafs spring from the branches. So I guess the person in charge of names walked around and said, "We will call this Spring." I understand that somewhat, but who first gave the meaning of spring to that word? Now comes summer, hot, humid, sweaty. This season was called summer, why Summer? At three in the morning I lay and think about that name. Fall I can work out. Leaves fall from the trees. Tempatures fall. I can get into the meaning of fall. But then here comes winter. Cold, sleet, ice. The name man shivered, "Brr," he said, we'll call this Winter. Where in the heck did that come from. Now you see why I don't sleep good.

While I talk of names, you have to mention people's names. These days they give kids some of the most awful names, that they have to live with for years. Never giving thought to the torture that child will be enduring at school. Have you ever heard of a song called,"A boy named Sue?" My parents were prime example of why kids should be born with their names already assigned to them. My parents first had a dughter, they called her Geraldine. Break that up you basically have two boys names, Gerald and Dean. Though the spelling is a little different. My brother was not so bad, Roy but they gave him Niel for a middle name. But oh boy they were waiting for me. They had a girl, then a boy. Mom always said they had been sure they would have another boy. So they picked out Stephen Randolph. Not bad I could have lived with that name. But here I came, a girl. A few hours after I was born Mom asked Dad, "What shall we name her?" Dad didn't know. I think he was still on Stephen Randolph. I'm with you Dad. Then Mom says, "Lets call her Willamina." Excuse me, who gives a newborn, seven pound baby the name Willamina. Please why could I have not just been called Stephen Randolph. They could have called me Stevie. My hair would probably have turned out blond with a cute nose. But instead I have horror hair and a big nose. But that's the breaks I guess.

I read that hundreds of years ago they gave people last names, reflecting what kind of work they did or what they were associated with. Like a baker was called Baker, a carpenter, Carpenter and so on. But I have always wondered if that was true why is there black people called White and white people called Black. Think about it.

These are the questions that haunt me while I am lying awake in the middle of the night. Oh I know,I have always known, I am strange. But if you know the answer to these mind worrying questions. Let me know the answer. Maybe I will start sleeping a little better.