Maria and I both have the flu, an interesting virus. Its the first time we’ve ever both been sick together, we are somewhat pathetic I think but trying to help each other. The flu is not like a cold, it is something between a cold and getting run over by a tractor. Deb Foster came by to feed the animals, Scott Carrino dropped off some soup. We are fairly wasted, and today is not the kind of day I’m dying to go out in. The town is all cranked up about Demolition Day this Tuesday, George Forss and I will be there taking some photos – flu permitting – as construction crews knocked down the building that is threatening O’Hearn’s Pharmacy.

Maria and I have both probably never seen one another so quiet, the dogs are still as well, the animals in the Pole Barn. A hush descends.

Tomorrow night is the first rehearsal at Hubbard Hall for my play, “Last Day At Maple View Farm,” I’m not going unless my fever is completely gone. I am impressed with the flu, which is popping up all over the country. I am gulping down liquids and making a lot of tea, we are sleeping and reading and mumbling.