It just didn't work out.
No matter how hard I tried, I had too many things to say yesterday, even though I stayed home from work. Jamie and Phoenix took care of me. Sort of. It's a risky thing to trust one's care to two creatures who think cat-chasing and butt-goosing are very acceptable behaviors.
We all got up at 5:30 a.m., including the Farmer. We all had breakfast. I made motions to indicate I was going back to bed. The Farmer asked me why I wasn't going to work. The man is oblivious. I guess the perpetual hacking didn't tip him off. I squeaked at him and made a lot of hand gestures. He saw the wisdom of not arguing. Or maybe he just wanted to get away from me.
The Belgians and I took a two hour nap. Jamie woke me up when it was time to call in to work. He's very responsible that way. I called our secretary and squeaked at her. She understood every word I didn't say.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of cold medicine, naps, the third Jamie and Claire book and the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie (thanks, Michele). I got lots of good advice regarding liquids, which are apparently the answer to my vocal issues. I've had gallons of tea with lemon, tea with honey, cocoa, water and cappuccino. I think margaritas or rum and Coke might be helpful, but there is no rum. Why is there no rum?! (Oops, too much "Pirates.")
I'm back at work today. I'm trying the vow of silence thing again. Hand gestures are working out just fine. Believe me, we're well-versed in hand gestures here. Our publisher has a bottle of rum in her desk. I know this because . . . well, never mind. Wonder when she's going to lunch . . .
My voice is gradually coming back. Hope to have made a full recovery by tomorrow. I have a class to teach tomorrow night and know my students do not want to be squeaked at. I'm considering making flash cards.