Dear Erin, 6/5/95
Your last letter was indeed the interesting one. It may take me several years to translate it. I thought that they spoke English in this new found land of yours. Well, touché, I thought they spoke it in my new state as well. Ha.
If I figured out the first sentence correctly, you seem to think I have really blue shoes. Yes, I imagine they are sad sometimes, especially since they haven’t been walking around with you. Awwww…
No, really, I have been struggling with the outlandish symbols in this letter. How dare thee! If this is a challenge I accept. Of course now I am in a place with very limit research capabilities, so you’ll have to give me some time. They tell that the University is only a country mile away. Sadly, the Fairmont has driven its last voyage and the country mile, oh; it’s only fifty miles using northern calculations.
“Just head up a spell on route 17.”
Last time I headed up a spell, I think we both ended up in different worlds.
I did head to my local library for some clues to this mystery. The only bookstore in town is one filled with used paperbacks. Lots of sweet treasures there, but nothing in the way of Bizarre Language to English.
Anyway, I ask the nice bee-hived blue haired librarian dressed in a very brown dress to help me. I tell you, the people here are as nice as I’ve ever seen or heard.
“Sir, I don’t believe I have ever heard of a place such as that. Let’s go over to the card catalog and see what we find. I do declare we are going to put Mr. Dewey to the test!”
Well, she cracked herself up over that one. She laughed so hard she did declare she needed herself a sweet tea. That’s when she ran off and left me to my lonesome. You’ll have to try this sweet tea business. It’s pretty dang good. Ha, I said dang.
I spent a few hours looking for anything to help me translate, but to no avail. For now, it remains a mystery. That’s ok because here in the south, we have nothing but time.
Y’all write back,