Waiting for Dumelet.
The weather has turned colder. This is a good thing because I'll keep longer and the fridges won't be on so often, which will save some money.
Senga feels differently. She wants to know where the heating system is. There isn't one, apart from the wood fires in selected and cost-effective fireplaces. I don't know what she's so worried about. She has an extra body inside hers so her heat generation must be greater than mine.
Speaking of which, it's nearly time for the Dumelet to emerge. I still don't have a name for him. Only four weeks to go before Senga, my wife and incubator, experiences the delights of childbirth the Dume way. Everything is already sharpened in preparation and the leather restraints have been waxed and tested for strength.
The nursery is another source of disagreement. I covered the walls in blue mould to make it look nice and have a whole set of fingers arranged on a mobile. I even put fresh barbed wire around the cot and threw out the old rusty stuff. I wouldn't want him to hurt himself.
Senga wants the mould replaced with paint - of the same colour - which seems like a total waste of time to me. Besides, paint needs to be cleaned while mould simply grows over any stains. She doesn't like the barbed wire either but I have to insist that stays. I want to know where he is when I'm asleep.
As for the mobile, she wants the fingers replaced with something else. She suggested fish. Is she mad? Those things stink after a few days. The fingers have been carefully steeped in formalin so the stench is bearable even after months. By then he'll have eaten them all anyway. Apparently she doesn't like the way they all point into the cot. Might give him psychological problems, she says. No they won't. They'll get him ready for his first visit to the village. The background tapes of malevolent whispers will help with that too. I am a thoughtful father, as you see.
One thing I have yet to prepare is my own defensive barrier. The Dumelet will start trying to kill me before he can walk, as is traditional. I don't intend to make it too easy for him to win.
I don't want to spoil him, you see.
