For a number of reasons, I’ve been missing from this blog for a while now. Missing-not-in-action.
Granted, it’s not a very large number of reasons and, to be perfectly honest, quite a few of those not-very-many reasons are so limp they could barely stand up, but one particularly dark beastie has been keeping me silent. The words have been there, though, milling about inside my skull, pressing uncomfortably against the temporary fencing —hoping to slip through a breach or anticipating this inevitable opening of the gate.
During the hiatus, Charlotte over in Sweden was
kind misguided enough to
consider me worthy of the Versatile
Blogger Award. Thank you so much.
And the marvelous Mary-Anne, up there breathing life in Canada, challenged me to write a paragraph without using the letter ‘e'. I said I’d give it a go, and I did—but until now it has been silenced by the dark beastie.
I’m finding it’s not so much wavy vocal chords and lack of puff that signal how old I am, it’s wind. Lots of wind. Occasionally, nasty stomach gas slips out (TMI?), but mostly I’m guilty of involuntary gusts of lung air that assault my world with sounds approximating whoomph…. hoougggh … aurrrghhhhhh as I hoik my body upwards from a chair, or out of a low-riding car. It’s nasty.
Happily, though, much puff… wind from this old bag… can still pump through songs from my youth. Songs bursting with story and mood-inducing history that play almost continually as I mark my days with words, tapping out my worldly spot by placing symbols in a syntactic row.