November 21, 2012
Farm Heaven, ON

I have escaped the big city for some country air. It was seriously necessary, and quite overdue.  I can feel the life force creeping back into me at last… molecule by molecule, breath by breath. It lives! I’m all curled up by the wood stove, coffee cup and laptop, with a fine view of the bird tree through the old farmhouse window. We’ve had many feathered friends come to visit today, and I’m getting to know them all by name. Two beautiful blue jays abound, one hairy woodpecker, a black-capped chickadee couple (who sing my favourite song…) and our newest little amigo, the handsome dark-eyed junco.

Not to mention the red-tailed hawk I found out in the back field. Well, first I found the wing. Then the other wing. Then the talon. Then the head. Something mysterious happened in those woods, I reckon. And I am putting the pieces together… Last time I visited Farm Heaven the hawk gave me the gift of a tail feather. I have honoured it ever since. This time the gift was more significant. Captain Dirt hauled out the bucket and is now preparing the remains for display in her illuminated bone case. But I claimed the talon as my own. Besides its pointy prowess at putting my guitar nails to shame, I could not help but notice that it formed a perfect flamenco hand.

It was a beautiful drive up from Toronto on the weekend. The stark palate of winter field and sky was magic through my rose-coloured glasses. I forgot how much I love this time of year. It was a celebratory voyage for Ladyship the Van and I, as she just turned 22,222 kms on her one year anniversary of being mine! It’s a magical life. We had a fabulous time together and listened to my Amelia Peabody mystery audio books all the way… As always, I am brushing up on my detectival skills for practical purposes. For there may be a mystery waiting just around the corner, dying to be to be solved.

However, I haven’t solved too many cases yet this trip -perhaps one or two- as I’ve been focusing primarily on the revivification of my person. This called for a hearty batch of magical warty pumpkin soup, the cure for everything that has ever ailed me! I have been caring for said magical warty pumpkin ever since I adopted her at the St. Lawrence Farmers Market a month ago. She was the mascot for our Halloween Masquerade show and shall live forever in memory, if not in photographs. She was delicious.

Beyond culinary creations, the agenda for my country convalescence reads as such:

– Take leisurely walk through crisp sunny woods
– Listen to classical music while sipping cranberry toddies (feel rather pleased with yourself)
– Practice guitar
– Set up photo studio for Captain Dirt & The Skirt photo shoot tomorrow night!

I think I can handle it.

And speaking of photos, and detectives, I have just begun my newest Adventures in Sweetland photo series “Sherlock Sweetland.” (Obviously.) Thus far the camera has caught me at the scene of the crime, and in transit to my secret agent Russian power plant meeting, or about to get beamed up by a spaceship. You decide. Even more mysteries coming soon…

Scene of the crime. More Sherlock Sweetland here



This letter may self-destruct, or not.

xo

La Sweet

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