Well, here I am, and there you are.

At the time I am recording this, it has been nearly a full year since we first went into shutdown due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

And of course, these strange and unfortunate circumstances have meant that we can no longer

record our show in front of a live audience. Nature finds a way, as the saying goes, and we have

indeed found a way, as it is in our nature to craft

audio delight full of suspense and tingly sensations.

It's what you've come to expect from our creative cadre of thrill makers.

We continue to work tirelessly as we painstakingly show together remote recordings and weave them

into audio amusements in spite of our lament for the ways of our live show days. This is the first

installment in a series of four all-new original plays we call 1918, 2020. Each episode will

journey back and forth between two different times and two different diseases that, as you shall soon learn, are not so different after all.

Hello, dear readers. It's me, CWC. Wursey. Your calm in the storm, your canary in the cold mind, your voice of reason ready to vaccinate the virus of pandemic panic. I am proud to

pen this weekly editorial as presented by the New York Gazette Post-Tribune

Globe, America's finest and most historically accurate periodical paper. I call this column

the pandemic log, or flog, wherein I, CWC. Walsy, will deliver you tips, tricks, and sound

advice to thrive in these trying times.

Are you searching for ways to fill the long days now that the Spanish flu?

Or as the government likes to call it, COVID-1, has forced us all to stay inside?

Sure, normally we'd all be baking sourdough bread and canning our seasonal jams, but with all the extra time on our hands, why not try taking a modern 1918 recipe and doing it yourself?

My favorite quarantine from scratch baked good is a buttermilk and stewed prune hard cake. That's right. You can toss out all those

prepared ingredients like flour, prunes, old milk, water, early roota baker, and of course, hot lard.

The hotter, the better. Believe me, once you mill the flour yourself, you'll never go back to pre-milled

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