Dear Son,

I'm writing this slowly cause I know you can't read fast.

We don't live where we did when you left. Your dad read in the paper that most accidents happen within 20 miles of home, so we moved. I won't be able to send you the address cause the new family that used to live here took the numbers with them for their next house so they wouldn't have to change their address.

This place has a  washing machine. The first day I put four shirts in it, I pulled the chain and haven't seen them since.

It only rained twice this week, three days the first time, and four days the second time.

The coat we wanted to send you, your aunt said it would be a little too heavy to send in the mail with them heavy buttons so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.

We got a bill from the funeral home. They said if we didn't make the last payment on grandma's funeral - "Up she comes".

About your fadder, he has a lovely job. He has 500 people under him - he is cutting grass at the cemetery. About your sister, she had a baby this morning. I haven't found out whether it is a boy or a girl, so we don't know whether you're an aunt or an uncle.

Your uncle John fell into the whiskey vat. They tried to pull him out, but he fought them off playfully, so he drowned. We cremated him and he burned for three days.

Three of your friends went off the bridge in a pickup truck; one was driving and the other two were in the back. The driver got out by rolling down a window and swimming to safety, while the two in the back drowned. Apparently they couldn't get the tail gate down.

Not much news this time, nothing much happened.

Love, Ma.