Dear Wigleaf,

Last night I was back in the city for a performance by a countertenor and the chance to see Lisa play her theorbo. She's doing well. Then up early this morning for the drive to Jeremy's ranch. On the way I listened to Cowboy Carter. I loved how Beyoncé rhymed "bodyguard" with "catalogue," but when I looked up the lyrics it turned out to be "Kevlar." Anyway, Jeremy's branched out now into alpacas and Nigerian Dwarf goats. People buy them as companion animals. He still has a large herd of pack llamas. He showed me the yearlings and I helped train the babies, we put them through an obstacle course including a teeter-totter. Remember how Jeremy scowled at you when you called llamas the artichokes of the animal kingdom? You called him the Rebarbative Rancher, but he's not always pissy like he was that day. It's so peaceful here with the stream bordering the pasture, woodpeckers on fence rails, everything aglow with sunshine. I miss you. When a photographer showed up to take glamour shots of the alpacas for Jeremy's website, I thought of how it used to be with all of us together and the fun we had. I naively hoped our group would get tighter because of what happened, but I've heard couples often divorce after cancer or an injury crash, so it's no surprise we fragmented. Sending love, dahlink. Best thing about postcards is you never expect to hear back.

XOXO Karen