Thursday, 14 March 2013

The Flight of Flatulent Fowl (Living with Mum 7)

*****

Mother’s latest practise of imitating mid-flight  flatulent ducks continues apace. It is not a skill I am accustomed to having never had the desire to throw my head back, close my eyes before sucking in vast volumes of air only to expel it with a gusto that matches the raucous sounds of a gaggle of geese or, in the case of Mum’s nasal capacity, a skein of ducks.
Mum doesn’t, unlike me, have a large nose. It is small but has what can only be described as of having hidden depths.
I have to admit to nursing a certain amount of admiration for her as the quacking’s she emits are as realistic a noise a nose could make without it becoming a beak.
Imagine the sight, if you will, of an elderly lady whose head has reclined comfortably on the back of an armchair. Her eyes flutter a bit then the old jaw slides open revealing a set of tonsils that could remove the rust from the hull of a battleship. From this cavernous maw comes a heavy whoosing as air is dragged in (much like the turbines of a jet engine) before being propelled out again with the maximum velocity of a rocket ship bound for some distant star system.
 Fortunately there are no wild fowl near the vicinity of mothers open mouth for if there were they would get sucked in only to bash, feather and wings, against that old wobbly palatine uvula before being fired out again at the opposing wall.
There is a sort of rhythm to this snoring, something Stockhausen might have employed or perhaps Edgar Varese in one of their cacophonous symphonies. It is a strange cadence that hacks and quacks with machine gun regularity. Sadly I find nothing of note to recommend it to musicologists or though there may be one or two ornithologists whose fancy mothers snoring might take.
Since I struggle to write when faced with such a din I am forced to accept defeat and join my mother for forty winks. Who nose, maybe we will compose our own symphony de sinus?


**** The image used is not of my mother. It was taken from an image on the internet.

.
.
.
all words and art are copyright © of Russell 'C.J' Duffy.To view my books on Amazon/Kindle go here: https://www.amazon.com/author/russellduffy -- For another side of CJ go here: sOMeThiNg For tHE wEeKeND, SiR?

8 comments:

The Real Cie said...

I have never been one of those women who gives a dainty little "kerchoo." Like your mother, I have sneezes like a roaring foghorn. If in company, I try to leave the room, but they can generally be heard throughout the structure. Fortunately they are so loud that they cover any "backlash" that may accompany. In this society, it is assumed that women never fart. So not only would I be considered unfeminine for my great trumpeting sneeze, I would be an utter pariah for the accompanying backside trumpet.

Perfect Virgo said...

If the mouth should fall closed we sometimes see another interesting phenomenon. The slack cheek inflates like a balloon until the mouth cracks open ever so slightly allowing the breath shuddering egress. The resultant cheek flapping resembles the jowls of a Labrador who has poked his head out of a speeding car's window.

Russell Duffy said...

The Real Cie>>>You are right about polite society but we all know that human activity is non gender specfic. It is the other form of Lady farting I find the oddest and I think you know the one I mean. That can be oddly disquieting when you have your head down between her thighs.

Russell Duffy said...

PV>>>The flapping Labrador jowl is a talent Mum doesn't share although I have seen many an example when people watching on trains.

The Real Cie said...

As Tempest would say: Russell, Dahling, I have never had my head between a lady's thighs, so I wouldn't know! ;-)
Unless one counts those times that I tried to do contortionist moves in hopes of being to have my head between my own thighs. Sadly, I'm not nearly flexible enough.

Russell Duffy said...

The very thought makes my mind boggle!

Vanessa V Kilmer said...

Hysterical. Although it's not fair to blame your desire for naps on your mother.

Plus, ladies don't snore. I know I don't. And no fair asking my hubby because he would lie.

Fool's Gold

Russell Duffy said...

Nessa>>>The words 'fair' and 'men' do not go together.
I only doze out of politness!!
:-)