I’ve lost my voice, and as the old joke goes, my nearest and dearest have phoned the doctor and asked them to come urgently in a month; maybe two. There go my dreams of a career as a ventriloquist. On a good day I sound like a cross between Muttley from the Wacky Races and a Darth Vader choke hold victim. Other times it’s more like that glop-glop sound just after the last drops of water have vanished down the plug hole.
Blackberries
It disappeared just over a week ago; I’ve looked in all the old familiar places – down the bottom of the sofa and in all my old coat pockets, the back of the cutlery drawer, everywhere – I’ve even put missing posters on telegraph poles – but there’s still no sign of it. I’ve made a mental note, and when it’s time for his next performance review I’m going to have some harsh words with my guardian angel, who’s been rather slacking on the job lately.
Elderberries
Ah, well, luckily one doesn’t need vocal cords to knit. (Though they come in handy for swearing when you drop stitches or discover a mistake 24 rows back.) I’ve finished the front and the shoulder straps, joined both shoulders and picked up stitches round the neck for the collar. As ever with Flamborough patterns, the more of it there is, the better it looks. And Frangipani Moonlight really shows up those moss stitch panels to advantage.
With perfect timing, my voice vanished just in time for our late summer holiday, staying with my brother near Towcester and visiting family. Conversation with one elderly aunt proved especially awkward and offered a pretty good indication of the challenges we’re likely to encounter when we make first contact with an alien species. I gave up ordering food in an Italian restaurant when the waiter got as far as, “Sounds like… sounds like… Meets a? Beats a? Nope, still not getting it.”
Flower stalks by the canal
Oh, well: I’ll get it back one day. It’s reached the point where all I can do is notify the police and wait for the ransom note, and meanwhile pray that maybe one of the neighbours has taken it in and is feeding it up until it’s strong enough to return…
dear gordon..maybe your missing voice is being serviced..it may come back withour the er…um..erumm.. its..um..well..its a..like that sort of thing..
so your next interview will slay evryone with its eloquence xxx meg..seriously ..hope you get it back soon …..with or without the er.. ums
Hi Meg, I’ve come to the conclusion that my brain has finally had enough of listening to what comes out of my mouth, and has taken the only course open to it by shutting it by any means necessary!
Hmmmmm……. Have you checked your warranty lately? Perhaps you need an oil change?
Seriously, hope you are feeling better soon.
Hi Lois, my warranty expired about 20 years ago! Even the doctors are weighing up the cost of the repairs against trading me in for a new model…
You have my sympathy. I lost my voice once in college- right in the middle of answering a question in a class. I think it came back in less than a week, though. Perhaps you could carry a small whiteboard and erasable markers, or – if you have a cellphone – text the waiter?
Hi Tamar, I’m currently exploring a synthetic voice box, like Stephen Hawking’s. Not only will it overcome the problem, it’ll be so slow that only those who really want to talk to me will stick around!
There goes a fine tenor. Tragic really. Like Bob Dylan catching a cold.
Hi Dave, Dylan at 80 can still carry a tune better than I, and he really can’t…!
Mind you, if you haven’t heard this track from his latest album, you really should – a world-weary rasp of a voice, a drifting, haunting ghost of a melody, and enigmatic, fragmented lyrics that somehow make for a profound statement on the human condition – it’s 11 minutes long and I wish it was twice as long – https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=G-oOCo1Y1bw
Gordon, on the knitting front…if you see a mistake 24 rows back, what do you do?
Look at the froggy voice this way, at least you have an excuse when the wife says she can’t hear you! 🙂
Hi Bridget, in that case I curse a goodish bit, then stick a strand of yarn in where the mistake was made and call Tech Support (Margaret) who usually bails me out. I can go back a couple of rows, but alas my worsening eyesight makes it hard to rectify things much further back than that.
The Yarn Harlot used to have a bunch of ways to repair mistakes without having to rip back. Stitching over it sometimes, even (sometimes) cutting the yarn, redoing that bit of the row, and mending the cut…
I was using a public computer (still am, actually) which is why it looks like a stranger.
Due to the recent kerfuffle with Sept 30 2021 Let’s Encrypt not letting anything “smart” that hasn’t been updated since 2017 connect with the Internet, it may be a while before I ever get online again as myself. At least my landline still works and I never got fooled into buying a Smart-anything.
=Tamar