12 August 2007


I came down with a rather rotten summer cold on Friday, probably an unfortunate by-product of my travels.

It wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't also developed a rather devastating case of laryngitis.

I have to admit that the latter is probably my fault (well, the former, too, but it's concert season. I have to travel! This is an every few years event. And come to think of it, I caught a really bad cold the last time I went to Red Rocks, three years ago. But I digress. As usual.)

Anyway, I've been reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows out loud to the assembled family. This is a little tradition we started several books back so that everyone could hear the book at the same time. It's fun and I do "voices" and the spouse says that I have a compelling voice to listen to, so it's all good.

Except when you have a bad cold that's already going south.

If you've read the final Potter, then you know that the final 120 pages or so are simply unstoppable. And I read them all aloud in the space of two and one-half hours this afternoon.

Let me just say that it was no stretch to do the bullfrog-voiced house elf, Kreacher.

And now, I whisper. And it hurts.

And it's all my fault.

And it's going to make arguing the so very wrong garbage bill with Waste Management tomorrow that much more difficult.

Go listen to some good music: "Infected" from the album Infected by The The.