Occupational Hazard

Of course, it's alright for an organist - or indeed, any instrumentalist come to that. But my prolonged absence from the blog-o-sphere has coincided with an enforced absence from the choir-stalls thanks to bloody laryngitis or vitus gerulitis or whatever the quack wrote down instead of 'sore throat'. Honestly, these medic-Johnnies seem hell-bent on the complete obfuscation of the masses through means of archaic and exclusive language. But that's another story. This one is about my inability to sing (which the beastly Director of Music sarcastically suggested was an on-going problem when I telephoned to inform his of the Doctor's diagnosis. Honestly, the man's a cad!). 

Thankfully thing are at long last 'on the mend' (as we lay-men say; no doubt the quack would want to tell me that the symptoms are abating, or somesuch drivel). But no work means next-to-no pay (not that there's much of that to start with) so I feel a return to the stalls approaching. And this Sunday's music isn't bad; it's Candlemass - one of the oldest of Christian festivals - and we're doing a lovely little mass by Oldroyd and an anthem by one Otto Goldschidt. Nothing too heavy, in terms of singing. I shall exercise my vocal chords a little later on today and find out if they're up to it! Toodle-pip!