Dear Kids,
           Of course we’re all thrilled by the birth of Conrad Allen Thacker on Tuesday. Dad and I are especially excited to be flying to Maryland to see all the Thackers. We’re leaving tomorrow morning (Friday, the 13th) and coming home on Saturday, the 21st. We don’t usually lock our house when we’re gone, and we’ve had pretty good luck the last 35 years, but we decided we ought to be more careful. So if you come by our house and need to get in, there’s a key by the carport door, in a magnetic container stuck to the barbecue. The front of the barbecue is towards the house, and the container is down by the controls. Incidentally, if you ever get to the cabin and nobody’s there, and the power is off, you won’t be able to get in through the garage door. (Yes, it really has happened!) There’s a cabin key in a magnetic container, stuck to the backside of the wood crib by the garage. Nuff said.
           Saturday night, when Dad and I got back to the cabin from the party at Nora’s, there was a very sweet, very dead young doe on the ground by the big swing set. I think it was hit somewhere by a car, and wandered to our property to die. When it got dark, Dad loaded it into the wheelbarrow, transferred it to the bed of his truck, and drove it down to Lower River Road, where he left it for pickup. Come to think of it, why do deer always die exactly on the shoulder of the road? I’m thinking now that some of them are transported there dead, by people who find them on their property. What else do you do with a dead deer? BTW, you can see that Dad is becoming a real red-neck.
           I’m still having lots of trouble breathing, but it’s gradually getting better. I saw my lung doctor on Tuesday, and he pulled up my Xrays from Instacare, from the day that I could hardly breathe at all, and said they looked pretty good. Even I could see the streaks of fluid in my lungs. I wanted to say, “So, what does a really bad set of lungs look like, huh?” I guess he was trying to be upbeat, but I really would like a doctor who might say, “Gosh, you’re really having a hard time of it!” I complained so much that he put me on Prednisone for 12 days. So I’m hungry all the time, and I can’t sleep at night, but I seem to be breathing a little better. Maybe.
           But life is good! I love you all! Mom