Dear Ellie

Dear Ellie

Dear Ellie: I’m writing this letter slow because I know you can’t read fast. We don't live were we did when you left home, your dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles from your home, so we moved. I won't be able to send you the address because the last family that lived here took the house numbers when they moved so that they wouldn't have to change their address.

This place is real nice. It even has a washing machine; I'm not sure it works to well though, last week I put a load in and pulled the chain and haven't seen them since.

The weather isn't bad here; it only rained out twice last week, the first time for three days and the second for four days.

The coat you wanted me to send you, your uncle Elbert said would be to heavy to send in the mail with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.

Jack locked his keys in the car yesterday, we were worried, because it took him tow hours to get me and your father out.

Your sister had a baby this morning, but I haven't found out what it is yet so I don’t know if you are an aunt or an uncle.

Uncle Fred fell in a beer vat last week, Some men tried to pull him out, but he fought them off and drowned. We had him cremated and he burned for three days.

Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pick up truck, Jim Bob 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 has happened.

Love Mom

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