My ability to think creatively has gone the way of a scratchy throat and voice that is slowly degenerating into a whisper. 'Silence at last' muses our flatmate, and a beloved Hugin [[I did not]]. After days of pestering him on how he is feeling; if he wants more throats lozenges, tea or something to dull the pain, to which he could only respond in grunts and sign, I have finally succumbed to the same affliction. So it shall now be my turn to grunt, moan, and attempt to convey needs by spelling 'em out in sign language. Wish us luck, for this has resulted in much confusion, laughter and the occasional 'You want what? Honey where?' during the past few days.
I shall post more later when the creative juices flow once again and I feel I have something more interesting to post, other than the mishaps of miscommunication that occur when one cannot speak. [Though those can occasionally be amusing...]
Posted by munin at December 19, 2001 07:39 PM