My friend and I left last Friday for Pryor for our high-school reunion.  Class of 1956. The traffic on the freeway (4th of July) was horrendous.  Back to back semi trucks, not counting every family in Oklahoma who were on the roads.  And every time a semi wanted to pass a semi, it took 5-10 minutes to get it done.  With traffic backed up for miles.  Same coming back home.  Surviving was all that was in your mind.  Crazy.

    My publisher actually got fifty post cards for me to give people.  And they had publishing date printed!  Nov. 2, 2021.  That was encouraging.

    I stayed with my brother and woke up with his chickens.  I now know that driving to Pryor--a two and a half hour trip--isn’t going to happen again soon.  I was whipped when I got there.

My friend Kathy baked me three huge pans (30 per pan) of home-made yeast rolls.  I told her “No, don’t do it because I can’t come get them, I don’t have time--I’m going home.  But if you know Kathy--she baked them and delivered them to the fair-grounds where the reunion was being held and put them in my car!!!  I’m going to gain fifty pounds if I’m not careful.  It’s nice to be loved--I dearly love her too.  Pryor is home.  It always will be.  I miss all of the people.