Every month or so I write my only living grandmother (or "grand" relative in general--both grandfathers are dead), and every month or so I get a reply. We write each other mostly about of the events in our lives.

My letters tend towards "I'm in the running for this job..." or "I'm writing for this paper/magazine..." or "It's been really hot this week, but I expected this since it was such a dry winter..." I'll ramble on about the mundane aspects of my life, usually keeping such juicy details like "I was out drinking last night..." or "There was this girl..." or "I can't believe I made it home alive last night..." out of the mix. When you get into your late twenties, shocking Grandma just isn't as much fun as it used to be.

My Grandma's letters have a familiar ring as well. "Your mother/uncle/cousin came by and we cleaned through another room in the house," or "the garden hadn't been weeded all spring and so we worked on that all weekend," or "It's been so hot..."

It's been hot this summer, although where I am (central New Mexico) has not been as bad as the Midwest (Kansas, where she lives). It's the summer, it gets hot. But weather is a usual component of our letters. It's immediate and on our minds. If there is something we can all relate to, it's the weather.

I just got another letter from Grandma last week. It was full of family tidbits. August is an active month for birthdays (a couple cousins, an uncle and great aunt all turn a year older this month). Grandma, who is an active genealogist, is very concerned about family matters--and that we (myself and my cousins) know our place in the tree. And she probably also has the feeling that we, in our great rush to do everything else we think it important, forget about things like cousins birthdays and who our great-great-great uncle once removed was.

I learned that there will be a big hoo-la in Kansas City in a few weeks when my Aunt Vi (great aunt, sister of my late Grandpa on my mom's side) turns 90. Everyone (even a big list of people I barely remember being mentioned before) will be there for the occasion. On my mom's side of the family, it has been the women who have survived, while the men have mostly passed. I'm not sure what this exactly means for me, but let's just say I know how to do the math.

To tell the truth, these matters of family activity concern me little, as I'll be working like I always work when they come to pass nearly 1000 miles away. But the pipeline of information is nice. It's good to hear about the congregation of relatives for celebration or otherwise. That in this world of high tech communication devices, some people take the time to actually reach out and touch somebody for real.

My Grandma does not have e-mail. The rest of us in the family do, and we get updates on various activities through this method. My mom tends to write everyone about once a week (usually detailing the work done on their house, where my Dad will be playing President Truman next and how her job at the food bank was this week). During pumpkin growing season and around State Fair time (which is coming up), I hear the statistics of an uncle's enormous pumpkin growth (in the hundreds of pounds). From another uncle, we get results of track and field events my younger cousins compete in. From myself, well, they get this column every week. These weekly missives, my dad says, is a good way to keep in touch with us. They get to know what is dominating my brain every week.

But with Grandma, I type out a letter every month, try to put enough good new in it to sound hopeful, and let her know how the weather is in my part of the country. Grandma writes her letters out in longhand. Sometimes on postcards, sometimes on greeting cards or hotel stationary and other times (like this month) on yellow-lined paper. I keep them stacked on my desk and refer to them every once in a while to remind myself about the family events I'm missing while living here in the high desert.

And of course, I'm reminded that it's been hot this summer (over 100 degrees for a week straight) where my Grandma is.

There's not much news that is more important than that.

Matt Worley has been soaked with a lot of rain in the last week, making up for that week and a half in early July when it almost hit 100.