I'm writing this slow because I know you can't read fast. We don't live where we did when you left home. Your Dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles of your home, so we moved. I won't be able to send you the address because the last Oklahoma family that lived
here took the house numbers when they moved so they wouldn't have to change their address. This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine. I'm not sure it works so well, though. Last week I put a load of clothes in and pulled the chain. We haven't seen them since. The weather isn't bad here.  It only rained twice last week; the first time for three days and the second time for four days. 

Bubba locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried because it took him two hours to get me and your father out.

Uncle Bobby Ray fell into a whiskey vat last week. Some men tried to pull him out but he fought them off and drowned. We had him cremated. He burned for three days.

Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pickup truck. Butch was driving. He rolled down the window and swam to safety. Your other two friends were in the back. They drowned because they couldn't get the tailgate down.

There isn't much more news at this time. Nothing much out of the normal has happened.

Love,

Mom