Yesterday you missed another birthday. Your 76th.
Nineteen years flew by in a blur. Tate is nineteen now. So much has happened in nineteen years—some incredible, some impossible to imagine.
Farming has changed. You won't believe this but we now have...........round cotton bales! Craziness.
And other farming news, something I never dreamed would happen, the Wilson family sold Lee Wilson & Company. Sold out to a huge landowner from Missouri. Sad day for Mississippi County.
And speaking of home, Osceola has a gigantic, new Wal-Mart sitting in a field near the interstate. Yes, this means another tired empty building in town. I haven't been inside the new store yet, but according to my Facebook friends, no one can find anything.
Yes, you missed out on the phenomenon that is Facebook. I'm not going to explain it, you wouldn't like it anyway.
You were spared the tragedy of September 11. We were attacked by terrorists on our own soil, bringing the country together just for a moment before returning to bickering among ourselves.
And, by the way, our country and entire planet is suffering from global warming.
Oh, with respect to the planets, Pluto is no longer one.
There are nineteen years' worth of regular, everyday, amazing things I could broadcast about your four grandchildren, too many for this letter. Just know you live on in them.
Many of your friends are gone now too—Clide, Bert, Charles Crigger...Maybe you celebrated your birthday with them? Maybe that's why we've had this recent crazy weather?
That's My Job, Conway Twitty