For undecided and pained voters such as me, swinging from pillar to post even on Election Day, it was a relief to finally cast my vote.
The past few months have been long and rocky, actually. With America’s financial fiasco shattering our economic hey day, the only bright point for me has been hearing an expression bandied about regarding possible financial doomsday. It describes the global economy as “going to hell in a hand cart.”
Perhaps those unhappy with the election results would say that’s where the world is heading.
With our Prime Minister-elect John Key a former foreign exchange dealer (for-ex for short) the religious among us might think of money changers in the temple; or for-ex traders in the Beehive, as is the case.
But I’m thinking if Mr Key can make as much money for the country as he has as an individual, comparatively speaking (without causing any pain), I say, ‘Go John and don’t spare the horses.’
Back to “hell in a handcart”, when someone asked me what it actually meant, I was, for a rare moment, speechless. Then I realised I better do some research.
Apparently the expression originated from the subject of a stained glass window in a church in Gloucestershire, England, which was built around 1517.
The window depicts Judgment Day with the good people going to heaven and the naughty ones being wheeled in a handcart in the other direction by a devil dressed in blue — now, isn’t that interesting!
To shed a different light, a handcart was a name for a carriage used by English prostitutes early in the 17th Century. There’s another term too: “going to hell in a hand basket” and the explanation for this is rather gory.
In the Middle Ages, the heads of those sentenced to death by guillotine were collected and placed inside a hand basket. Assuming the dead were guilty, their souls would certainly have gone to hell. Perhaps this custom coined the phrase, “basket case”, but that’s mere speculation on my part.
Something a little closer to home is literally getting my knickers in a twist. I’ve been a Bendon supporter for years, and actually, Bendon has supported me for years too. So imagine my dismay when one day it took me fifteen minutes to figure out that the manufacturers have swapped the label from the left-hand seam of their knicker designs to the right.
For as long as I’ve been dressing myself, my knicker labels have been on the left. This knowledge has given me a sure sense of direction as I headed into each day.
In short, I always knew which way was up. Now I’m all confused, to-ing and fro-ing until I sort out me back from me front. No wonder I couldn’t figure out which party to vote for — me lefts and rights were all over the place.
