A quiet day, much to the delight of everyone I happened to meet.

My voice stopped working.

Not even a squeak.

I didn’t talk to the cats this morning, as I usually do, so I really didn’t know my voice had gone south.

Got to the bakery.

Open mouth.


Finally after much persuading and straining, the voice of the God Father was heard.

That crazy sounding, low mumbling, hushed God Father.

Try to explain to 2 nurses and a doctor how one is feeling when the voice is that of the demon from the exorcist.

Stronger antibiotics.  No drinking.

4 days.

Thought I would stop one last time before the laborious 4 days ensued, to see who was hanging at the bar.

The boys were ecstatic.

This is a cause for celebration!

Thank goodness no loud mouth jabbering today.

Well, Kim, the mixologist, brought paper and markers to my renowned table, and when I wanted to talk, I would hold one up for everyone to see.

No one cared.

So, not to be discouraged, Kim brought me a glass and a spoon and I proceeded to “gently” tap the glass with the spoon to get the attention a sick woman, like me, deserved.

It was crazy,  but I knew my time was running out.

Headed down the road for lunch and came home to sleep off the couple of Jamesons that I guess I drank.  All right, yes, I drank them,

The cats have been fed 5 times today.

I am waiting for the bog beast, Oh Wow, to come in soon, looking for more.


I have to go shopping again tomorrow… for the cats.

They have me wrapped around their cute little sharp as hell claws.

Gonna take it easy tonight.

Do I have a choice?


Can’t wait to talk again.

I have so much I want to say to those boys at the bar.







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