We need to know, is this genetic? ... Is it something we're eating or breathing or ingesting? What about (Emily's sister) Gracie and her kids?

Oh, herbaceous treat! 'Twould tempt the dying anchorite to eat; Back to the world he'd turn his fleeting soul, And plunge his fingers in the salad bowl; Serenely full the epicure would say, "Fate cannot harm me,--I have dined to-day."

Real shallow breaths in the ninth. But at least I was still breathing.

I don't know what he's been eating for breakfast, but we need to keep feeding it to him because he's making some great cuts, hitting the holes hard and running through the extra man. We're going to need more of the same.

Believe me, everyone is breathing a huge sigh of relief, ... I think we'll find a way to celebrate. Eating and sleeping will be a good start.

One may as well begin with Helen's letters to her sister.