Insomnia – Part 1


What is Insomnia? – Part 1

The Droning Voice thinks that if you have to ask, perhaps you don’t have it. (Or maybe you have an aversion to 4-syllable words.) It means that, for whatever reason, you can’t sleep when you should. There can be many causes of insomnia, from situational to serious. The Droning Voice does not address conditions which cause serious insomnia. She will blog about other situations which may contribute to insomnia, as a service to ALL insomniacs (of which she is one), and as a way to drive traffic to her website.

Some situations which may contribute to insomnia are more readily solved than others.

Causes of Insomnia – room temperature

Today, we address room temperature. Most so-called experts, or their websites, suggest a sleeping room temperature between 60°-68° Fahrenheit, so let’s say 65°F, which, for people who snobbishly insist on using Celsius is approximately 18.33333333333333…c.

Too Hot in bedroom – turn on the AC, or, at least, a quiet fan*. If you don’t have access to electricity, then The Droning Voice suggests wet washcloths applied liberally over your naked body, and an elegant hand fan*, preferably waved by a cabana boy in a leather loin cloth. If the cabana boy is counter-productive to falling asleep, then, sorry, you might have to wave the fan yourself. Of you could move to Alaska, though that could result in it being

Too Cold in bedroom – turn on the heat, add a blanket*, sleep with another living being that generates heat. If a person isn’t available, The Droning Voice recommends a friendly dog from your local animal shelter, though will add that some breeds snore more than others. Also, some produce an impressive amount of flatus. The Droning Voice is reminded of a long night spent with her sister and her sister’s Great Dane in which nobody got much sleep. The Droning Voice is going to just put it out there that if her sister’s Great Dane’s gaseous output could be weaponized, it could be used to disperse crowds with great effect, particularly at any political rally. The Droning Voice also has experience with cats as sleeping partners, but can’t recommend them as a rule. In her experience, it typically resulted in a certain amount of hissing, spitting, clawing, and slapping. And that was just from The Droning Voice.

Once you have your interior climate control needs met, then, of course, select one of the many questionable tomes The Droning Voice has elected to read aloud. Set the volume to just barely audible.

Pleasant dreams!

*The Droning Voice does not endorse any of the products which appear on the links, which are all to Amazon, but provides the links as a starting point for anybody interested in said items, primarily because she is lazy. If you hate Amazon and all-that-it-stands-for, then go look at Walmart’s website. Research is good. The Droning Voice adds that she is eyeballing one of those feathered hand fans, knowing that, if she buys one, she will look EXACTLY like any of the women holding one. If you want to procure a leather loin-cloth, you will have to do the research yourself.


White Sox

Just so you know, this slim book has NOTHING to do with the Black Sox Scandal.  Furthermore, it has nothing to do with Baseball OR Chicago, which is all good, at least to The Droning Voice. It is, in fact, about reindeer.

And, just so you know, this has nothing to do with any of the reindeer involved in pulling Santa’s sled full of toys. Nope. THIS book is sanctioned by the full backing of THE WORLD BOOK COMPANY, located in Yonkers-on-Hudson, NY, which is nowhere near the North Pole. All the action takes place kinda in that vicinity, though. The North Pole. Not Yonkers-on-Hudson. And, unlike many of the children’s books The Droning Voice has read, none of the critters in this book wear anything remotely resembling a monocule or top-hat or even spats. There is, however, a mention of a “seal-leather thong”, but The Droning Voice hastens to assure the listener that such a thong had a much different use back in the 1920s in Alaska than might be employed today, particularly in certain nightclubs in San Francisco.

This book teaches the listener probably more than they wanted to know about actual reindeer, and their caribou cousins up in the northern latitudes. It is the story of a wise Mother Reindeer teaching her young fawn, White Sox, all about being a reindeer. They manage, somehow – it is never explained how, exactly – to get away from their herd and hang with their caribou cousins for a while, where White Sox learns all about the hazards of living in the wild and being considered tasty to wolves. And he experiences “Antler Envy” when he notices his caribou cousins have larger antlers than he. The Droning Voice was glad his mother was able to assuage his youthful concerns in that area. Every good mother assures her son that size doesn’t really matter.

Also, at one point White Sox and his mom have to escape wolves by running into a marshy area that is basically a natural super-fund site, with oil just laying about the surface of the land and water. They slowly wade through it, knowing the wolves’ will have to turn back, and turning White Sox’s legs black in the process. Ick. It is a good (?) thing these oil lakes near Point Barrow were discovered by oil companies in the early 1920s, so that they could get to cleaning them up. So to speak.

If you simply MUST know where Point Barrow is, the author of this book, Mr. Lopp, tells the student to open up a map of Alaska and find the 71st parallel. The Droning Voice managed to find it on her ca. 1960’s era globe, which also has all kinds of countries on it that no longer technically exist.

Mother Reindeer then tells White Sox the history of how the reindeer came to be in the service of man (woman, humans, LGBTQMNOP) involving a caribou fawn named “White Feet”, but given what he DID, should’ve been call “Brown Nose”. The Droning Voice will leave it at that.

Sweet dreams with visions of sugar plums!

Here is a sample of White Sox:

This is a short example of The Droning Voice.  Subscribers can access the full-length version and really put themselves to sleep.  Here is how to subscribe.

The Tale of Jasper Jay

“Dandy” – “Rowdy” – “Scamp”

The above terms are what Mr. Bailey used to describe Jasper Jay. Clearly Mr. Bailey disapproved of flashy attire, no matter who was wearing it. If one was a “dandy”, the other adjectives naturally followed. The Droning Voice can only imagine what sort of words he would have used to describe a peacock, which, to The Droning Voice looks like the avian version of a Drag Queen but with even MORE pizzazz (if such a thing were possible).

This book starts (and ends) with what Jasper Jay likes to eat, particularly beechnuts. Since The Droning Voice had only vaguely heard of beechnuts, preferring to get her nuts pre-shelled, roasted, salted, and dished out in handy cans, she went to the ‘net to provide you a link complete with pictures so that you can go forage some for yourself. She read somewhere that they are edible, so it HAS to be true.

Oh, and Blue Jays are NOISY, in case you didn’t already know.

She learned about an ailment (suffered by Old Mr. Crow) called “Housemaid’s Knee”, which turns out to be some kind of inflammation of the bursa behind the patella (knee cap). The Droning Voice was unaware that crows even HAD knees, much less were in the domestic employment industry. Okie-dokey.

She also learned that Mrs. Green called her family in to meals by blowing some sort of instrument, though it is never stated what kind. A trombone? An alpine horn? A digeridoo? A shofar? The imagination runs wild.

If you stay awake long enough, you will find out that the “Pleasant Valley Singing Society”, lead by a Mr. Valentine Veery, liked to sing “Good Night Ladies”.

And with THAT ear worm, The Droning Voice wishes you …

Pleasant Dreams!

Here is a sample of The Tale of Jasper Jay:

This is a short example of The Droning Voice.  Subscribers can access the full-length version and really put themselves to sleep.  Here is how to subscribe.