"I sat myself down, pen in hand..."

Here's something that a friend gave to me.  She found it in an old trunk.

Dear Bill:
   I sat myself down, pen in hand, to type this letter (please excuse the pencil).  We don't live where we lived but live where we moved.  My friend, I am sorry we live so close apart, I wish we were further together.  We are having more weather this year don't you think or do you think?
   My aunt Mary is dead and is doing fine.  Hope you are the same.  She died New Year's Day the fifteenth.  Her breath just leaped out but the doctor gave up hopes, when she left a family of two sons (both boys), one pig, a cow, and a husband.
   My sister has the measles, she is having a bad time, she is near death's door.  I hope the doctor pulls her through.
   We now have three hens and five cats.  The hens lay in a box and the cats lay on the floor.
   I started from Comanche to see you and saw a sign that said "to Hasse" and I got on it and set for hours but the thing didn't move an inch.
   My friend, I am sending you a winter coat by parcel post, it was too heavy to send by express.  I cut the bottons off to make it weigh lighter.  You will find them in the pocket.
   One of my neighbor's babies swallowed a pin but we fed her a pin cushion.  Now she is doing fine.  Her brother drank some ink.  We fed him a blotter and he is O.K.
   Put this in an empty jar of vinegar, and set it on a corner of a round table and eat with a fork.
   Yours until night mares turn into saddle horses.  If you don't get this letter let me know and I will write you again.

              Your truly,

P.S.  Please don't destroy this letter but burn it when you finish it.