Kristin Sweetland |

August 17, 2011
Toronto, ON

It’s been ages, I know, since I spun a Sweetlandish yarn and told you all my secrets. A lot has happened. Many miles driven, photos taken, lobsters trapped, trees climbed, walls scaled, gigs played, postcards mailed, beasts tamed and feasts eaten. Not to mention the message in a bottle I was forced to throw overboard. Do keep an eye on your closest waterway. It may just make it your way soon…

I’ve been home for more than a fortnight now, with my hands full of Australians and house guests. I’ve been enjoying the relaxed nature of my schedule lately, taking many naps, having dinner parties, lounging around on my beautiful patio, and thinking long and hard about my life. It’s all going well. Plans are in full swing for the new album and I promise to give you all more info very soon!

Played a fantastic house concert last weekend up in the land I call “Farm Heaven.” Captain Dirt/Lyndell Montgomery, brilliant Aussie pals Jess McAvoy, Aurora Jane and I rocked the countryside, pool party high heel bikini-core. But I was the only one wearing high heels… And the only one not wearing a bikini. The next day, Jane, Jess and I adventured into Montréal on a serious mission. This involved a clock tower, a very important meeting, an orange guitar, a polka-dot dress and a fresh, hot bagel melting in my mouth.

And a Toto sing-along!

A thousand adventures later, here I am at my writing desk in a beam of sunlight gazing out at the churchyard across the street. Like I’d never left. Summer is a sweet time in my neighbourhood, not to mention high season for gettin’ hitched. Good thing I love the sound of church bells. Three days a weekend, and sometimes on Thursdays I get to sit here at my perch and watch one bride after another leave the chapel with her dress, her bouquet, her bridesmaids and her groom, en route to her limo. I confess, I always get a bit romantic about it. But not quite as romantic as I felt after watching the new Jane Eyre movie last night. Mr. Rochester does it to me every time. I so need a new type.

Yesterday there were no weddings to speak of, but I peeked out from my writing perch to see a film crew busily preparing to shoot an episode of Covert Affairs. They’re always in my hood. I love that show! Which reminds me to tell you to watch for a Sweetlandish cameo on the new season of Being Erica coming in the fall… I love that show too.

Today is about cooking, cleaning and doing my hair in preparation for my incoming BFF later today! I’d make a fantastic 1950’s housewife. And you haven’t even seen me in my polka-dot apron yet. I’ve been busy fortifying my kitchen against the army of mice that seem to think mi casa es su casa. I’ve decided to play nice first, with some well-placed steel wool and lavender oil. We’ll see… I started suspecting I had nocturnal roommates when one by one the bowl of mini cinnamon hearts leftover from my Valentine’s party began disappearing off the top of the stove. After pulling out said appliance yesterday, I discovered the one last-remaining lonely cinnamon heart lying in a pile of dust. I’m not exactly sure what that’s a metaphor for. But it’s a metaphor for something.

Aurevoir for now my pretties, I promise to write again soon! For all y’all in Southern Ontario come see me play this weekend at the fabulous Back to the Garden Roots Music Festival on Sunday. It’s gonna be a blast!

Love love,