Saturday, July 28, 2007

Zzz top

I snore very loudly and unpleasantly. Of course, without going to the effort of recording my own sleep patterns, I have to take other people's word for this, but those words are unanimous and pretty damning. I could plead in mitigation a long history of respiratory dysfunctions, including pneumonia, bronchitis, asthma, sinusitis, hay fever and a strange-shaped nose; but the fact remains that I when I'm asleep I sound like a pig on the verge of tears. The only other thing I can say in my defence is that my father sounds even worse. In my flagwaving youth, I once joined a sit-down occupation of the office of my university vice-chancellor. This extended into an overnight stay, and apparently the assorted Trots, anarchists, union hacks and assorted opportunists took turns in rolling me over onto my front to stop the guttural racket.

Small Boo, being lovely and dainty and ladylike, does not make such a horrible noise. But I hope she doesn't mind me announcing in a public arena that she does occasionally snore. It's a much quieter, gentler, altogether more pleasant sound than that made by her consort, but it's not without its drawbacks. It's rather like the noise made by a mobile phone set to 'vibrate', when you leave it on a glass-top table. Only last night I got up at about three in the morning wondering who the hell could be calling.

So, your turn. How do you or your loved ones snore?


bye bye bellulah said...

One lets out a steady, constant buzz and shuts up at the flick of a switch, hmm. One snuffles in a cat lying in the sunshine in long grass dreaming of catching mice kind of way, aaaw. The other roars like an elegant walrus, aarrgghh. (I snore Mahler's 8th). I find it very cosy and homely listening to snoring, especially animals, women and children as long as I'm not trying to sleep, or read or in the same room.

Geoff said...

Betty is usually pretty quiet on the snoring front but I do hear the odd piggy snort.

Betty said...

Geoff's snoring changes all the time, which is quite sinister. It also seems to end up being a part of my dreams. Once I thought I was being strangled by a heavy breathing Darth Vader soundalike, then woke up and found out that it was Geoff going "eeeesss ... eeeesss ... eeeess".

He also shouts out in his sleep and wakes up convinced that he's being attacked by giant bugs, snakes and vermin (er, not at the same time).

FirstNations said...

1. like a wooley mammoth with pneumonia drowning in a tar pit. which is why he does so

2. in his own room, on the opposite side of the house.

it almost ended our marriage. no joke.

amyonymous said...

My husband - very noisy but can be stopped with a well-placed nudge that doesn't wake him up, but causes him to breathe like a human being again.

However, I sleep-talk, so he wakes up to indecipherable muttering . . . and sometimes i wave my arms around to make a point. i am quite embarassed by this. and can never remember the conversation.

to first nations - this problem is looking like it WILL be the end of my friend's marriage. you've done well.

patroclus said...

Mr BC and I both sleep very neatly and noiselessly, apart from that time I dreamed I was training an army of Ents to cross a river, which apparently caused me to make some high-pitched squeaking noises.

Ex-Mr P used to mutter about taxation in his sleep after a major Sim City bender, but otherwise I've been very fortunate with my sleeping partners.

Tim F said...

Ah, what a glorious trove of similes, metaphors and allusions you mine to describe this mundane phenonmenon. Incidentally, has anyone felt the need to make use of those odd plastic appliances that are meant to keep the airwaves open?

Anonymous said...

Suddenly, and a bit scarily.

But children have been known to give forth gentle nocturnal whees. As in "whee.... whee...." Ah lovely.

GayƩ Terzioglu said...

I don't snore.
My Nialler snores after a night of heavy, and by heavy I mean "a line is crossed several times over" kind of heavy drinking. He snores like the walrus, except not the elegant type. I elbow him in the ribs, kick him in the leg then when all else fails I climb on top of him and bounce up and down to wake him up. In the end? Life imitating art, I drag my blanket to the living room and fall asleep there.

Anonymous said...

what a gorgeous pig picture! (i'm not about to divulge my night time snortings and snufflings - but the pig is too lovely not to comment one ... on which to not comment?)