Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," for god's sake! Great to have you on board.
Yesterday I came home from a long teacher conference. I sat out on the back porch for awhile, and then I noticed the hammock. It's hard not to notice the hammock in my back yard, since the hammock nearly fills the whole doggone yard.
It occurred to me that I'd never taken a nap on the hammock, ever. So I laid down in it. My cat Beta promptly joined me.
EXHIBIT A: BETA
I didn't fall asleep. Instead, after a few minutes, I heard a small, sweet cough, like someone clearing her throat. Beta hit the ground running. Isn't it funny how cats can sense the supernatural better than people?
I looked, and in the yard sat a bored Goddess. I quickly assembled the Deity Translator software and asked Her if She wanted to do an interview.
Turns out this Goddess was so ancient that Her language caused the Deity Translator to crash. We were thrown back on the oldest form of communication ... gesture.
Somehow this irritated the Goddess. She seemed to be frustrated by our inability to communicate. Finally I got the idea that she was trying to speak with me psychically, but all I got in my head was a buzz that sounded like those annoying horns they used at the World Cup.
(Just FYI, it's impossible draw any conclusions about bored deities from their clothing. They all dress really nice.)
Whenever I'm at a loss for how to entertain a bored deity, I always propose a home tour. Chateau Johnson isn't fabulous in any way, but ancient deities are almost always interested in all the gadgets. I've had a few that just couldn't get over stretchy material. Once a bored god shut Himself in the freezer ... just to see what it was like.
This Goddess was totally different. She wasn't at all interested in any of the technology, the art work, my fabulous upholstery (this is usually a winner), the kitchen appliances, peanut butter, chocolate. No, not even pie. The one thing that she found fascinating was the cats. Currently we have five -- three foster kittens and the permanent residents, Alpha and Beta. The Goddess was not terribly surprised that I could hold the kittens, but when Alpha came purring up asking for supper ... that was a shock. When I picked Alpha up, and Alpha nuzzled me and purred, the Goddess was nearly overwhelmed. The Goddess acted like she'd never seen a domestic cat before.
Okay, I thought. This deity has really traveled through the mists of time to be here. Wow! My shrine works!
Sadly, the Goddess and I quickly came to a stalemate after that. Nothing but the cats brought any shock and awe. Trust me, I've had bored deities who played with my easy-clean windows all afternoon! This one didn't even reach out to touch the glass. She seemed, well, disappointed.
Last month I read in National Geographic that scientists in Africa had found a Homo sapiens skull that was 400,000 years old. The remarkable thing about the skull was that its brain case was larger than our own. I began to wonder if this Goddess could possibly have been praised and worshiped by those big-brained Homo sapiens from the super-distant past.
I still had the magazine. I showed her the picture of the fossil. It rang a bell, I could see it in her expression. So she has to be the most ancient Goddess ever to visit "The Gods Are Bored."
She is still here, sitting in the ivy next to the shrine. I'm wishing I could be more psychic, because the Deity Translator software has never let me down before. (Oh well, I can't say never, but always in the past it's been user error, not a fault of the software.) Anyway, I really want to learn something from this exceptionally ancient deity. And where there's a will, there's a way.