Trying to get ready to set off for Cumbria and Woolfest tomorrow but severely hampered by unpleasant throat infection that involves lots of coughing and NO VOICE. Whispering Rachel is my latest incarnation. Chas is plying me with drugs, pink throat lozenges and horror of horrors benylin in the hope that I might be capable of burbling on about alpaca yarns by Friday. I could just hold up a big sign saying Cannot Speak But Happy to Take Your Money!
