mostly david ephgrave

Every nose-blow at the moment is like a small, yet potent explosion.  My cold is going through its various stages very quickly. Yesterday, I had next-to-no voice, so we had to cancel recording IYIE. Today, it's gradually found its way back to existence, though at a quieter, more gravelly level than usual. I sound like a timid Rod Stewart (though Rod was never known for his timidity; picture his trousers, for Chrissakes). While I'm glad the germs seem keen to vacate my system fast, I wish they wouldn’t do it in force via my nostrils every five minutes. The noise (and all that goes with it) is very embarrassing. To compound the situation, I ran out of tissues this morning, so my trip to my mum's house to walk her dog was made with a big box belonging to my wife filling out my bag. It made me feel suspicious, though I may have been over-thinking it. I was meant to do a gig in Kingston tonight, which, had it been yesterday, would ha...