     Dear Son,

     I'm writing this slow cause I know you can't read fast.  We
     don't live where we did when you left.  Your Dad read in the
     Paper where most accidents happen within twenty miles of
     home so we moved.  I won't be able to send you the address
     as the last family that lived 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, pulled the chain and hadn't seen 'm since.
     It only rained twice this week, three days the first time
     and four days the second time.

     The coat you wanted me to send you, your Aunt Sue 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, said if we didn't make
     the last payment on Grandma's funeral, up she comes.

     About your father - he has a lovely new job.  He has over
     500 men 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 I don't know if
     you are an aunt or an uncle.

     Your Uncle John fell in the whisky vat.  Some men tried to
     pull him out, but he fought them off playfully so he
     drowned.  We cremated him.  He burned for three days.

     Three of your friends went off the bridge in a pickup.  One
     was driving, the other two were in the back.  The driver got
     out.  He rolled the window down and swam to safety.  The
     other two drowned.  They couldn't get the tailgate down.

     Not much more news this time, nothing much has happened.
     Write more often.

                                       Love, Mom

     P.S.  Was going to send you some money but the envelope was
     already sealed.
