A light-hearted monologue, that ties in with this Sunday's Lectionary reading from Genesis 9: 8-17

Sorry! Excuse me for a moment! I'm just checking the long-range weather forecast... (Checks newspaper.)
As I thought, he's completely off his trolley. No sign of rain this side of doomsday... Mind you the lawn could do with it. We've had a hosepipe ban that long around here that half the grass is burnt to a cinder. And yet that buck eejit Noah insists that we're going to have a flood.
He's a strange soul, Noah. Keeps himself to himself usually. You never see him at the local orgies or anything... Follows some strange religion that doesn't allow that sort of thing, poor so and so... No temple prostitutes... No human sacrifices... Hardly a religion at all!
But recently he has gone completely off his rocker. First I knew about it was six months ago when I popped into Hadad's Hardware Store to pick up some gopher wood to make a new garden shed... Not a piece of gopherwood to be had for love nor money. None in the whole area.
Apparently that idiot Noah had decided to build a boat... Or rather his god had told him to build an ark, whatever that is... I suppose Noah didn't know either, so he started to make a boat instead. But what a boat! It was massive... The only problem is that he's building it right in the middle of the desert... So when a few of us pointed out the logistical difficulties of getting such a huge hulk of a boat down to the sea he said that there was going to be a flood...
We had just stopped ourselves laughing so much to ask him where he got his meteorological information, when we were nearly knocked down by this colossal herd of animals which his sons Ham, Shem and Japheth had gathered up... They're as bad as their Dad... They'd at least one pair of every animal I've ever seen, including a few I'd never seen before, and wouldn't care to see again... and they were loading them all onto this ark thing... Noah said he had to go and he joined his sons herding all the animals on board... He invited us to join him, but we said we'd rather not... And when he got all the animals and his family aboard, he pulled the hatch closed.
I'm telling you, if some of those animals don't get him the smell and the heat in there will...
Here, hold on a minute... (holds out hand.)
Well, I never... Rain! That's the last time I'll pay any attention to Michael Fish. Oh well, suppose I'd better get the washing in...

David Campton © 2000


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