Showing posts with label Being God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Being God. Show all posts

Monday, 14 January 2013

BIG MOTHER IS WATCHING YOU!



From my office window...

From where I am sitting in my office I can look through the window out across to the bathroom.
I live in an L-shaped house so the view from my office encompasses not just the bathroom but the whole of the East Wing wherein my boys have their bedrooms.
My boys seem to be oblivious of this fact and I am not going to enlighten them for they think I have omnipotent powers.
I know when they have brushed their teeth and when they have been flinging wet flannels at each other without me even having to ‘see’ them. I can call up from wherever I am like some Big Brother out 1984 and tell them to stop whatever it is that they are doing, to do whatever they are doing properly and to remind them that mother always knows what is going on.

I can also take a good guess as to where they are in the house at any one time because even though they think they are moving with stealth and cunning, the sheer age of the house is against them, they are betrayed by the squeaking of the floorboards and squealing of old hinges and scraping of arthritic old door handles.
Their piping youthful voices are particularly easy to hear through old plaster walls and badly insulated floors.

It must be a scary thing to know that your mother just knows things about you even when she’s not actually there.
But all this omnipotence does have its drawbacks – for I can always hear them and I can never get a decent lie in!

Wednesday, 30 November 2011

Being God


Fat Boy 1 as a poult
For a moment I AM God or at least a deity of some kind or another. It gives one such a thrill to know that you are, for that moment, the centre of their world.
The bringer of good things: food, shelter, protection.
If they could only articulate in a language I understood I truly believe it would be in praise of me each and every morning. As it is people are beginning to say my chickens make too much noise and if I am not careful the council will be on me about noise abatement.
But the thrill I get when they come flocking at the sight of me. Cackling in delight and anticipation at my benefice. It quite goes to my head. You can see me in my large Blue Down Jacket spreading my arms wide over them all as they peck about in contentment at my feet.
I am the harbinger of life and death.
It is a heady tonic and one which sometimes brings with it headaches.
My biggest headache at present is what to do with Fat Boy 1 and Fat Boy 2 who should have been hens but aren’t.
They are my acolytes waiting out for my return from the school run, rushing up to greet me as I get out the car chortling and squawking and telling me all sorts of things – I prefer to think they are telling me things rather than ordering me about and I am quite happy  in my delusions. They are characters. When I chat to Tatu or J they come and sit on my feet keeping them warm. They follow me about the garden and in reward I lob them worms and other tasty morsels.
But
They are boys and come the spring when the days are longer and the sap starts to rise again they are going to be quite a handful and they are not going to be nice to my poor hens.
So for the good of the whole flock they must be dispatched in some way or another.
Being a God is not easy and for those looking up to the god where the hand strikes must seem a bit random and essentially rather unfair.
It is not the part of the job I enjoy.
But no one said being God is easy…

Go on you know you want to...

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