It's been raining here for the past two day and I fear that if the precipitation doesn't stop soon, we may be stranded here, the house turned into an island in a swampy sea of submerged cotton fields and dirt roads. If the worst happens and we are stranded by this time tomorrow, we may have to eat the kid. I know it sounds odd that we would turn to cannibalism so soon. After all, we have a freezer full of dead cow and vegetables and a cat and dog that would likely take refuge on the various high ground in our carport, but those just are practical options. The meat takes a long time to thaw properly (microwave defrosting can lower the quality of the meat) and I could never bring myself to eat Bubba, Bosco, or Chairman Meao. I'm just too close to my pets to ever eat them. I'd rather starve than eat Bubba. I know that if E were strong enough to take one of us down on his own, he wouldn't hesitate to butcher us and consume our still-warm flesh.
On a brighter note, while I put E into his pajamas and listened to the rain fall outside his bedroom window, I finally mastered the undertone of kargyraa throat singing. I really kind of surprised myself. My voice just went suddenly from something resembling a smoker's hack to a resonant bellow. I can pretty much rattle the walls by booming out notes well into a tuba's range now. The only thing left is to figure out how to create the overtones and I'm in business. I'm going to make some serious coin by being the first rock-n-roll throat singer.
And don't ask me why I've been trying to do this. I just have a tendency to experiment with my voice when I'm bored. I'm weird. Get over it.
And if you have no idea what I'm talking about when I talk about kargyraa throat singing, here's an example:
And here's one of the other styles of Tuvan throat singing called sygyt. I haven't the slightest clue how to pull this off. It's really cool how they get that whistling sound out of their voice flittering over the lower tone.