I've been laying around the ranch feeling horrible, my hearing waxing and waning, and getting more and more anxious about the Book Festival in Deadwood and how I am going to function sick and deaf. My father mentions to me that he had just received in the mail a notice from the Wyoming Department of Health about what to do in case of a flu pandemic. Stockpile food and water. Don't go to work or send your children to school. Is he looking at me strangely? Wishing I didn't hug him when I came in the door?
I feel a little better after dinner. My mother worries it is going to frost. We all rush outside and pick apples.
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