I trust this letter finds you well. You will be pleased to hear that upon your advice, I have begun attending church in my new home of Provence. The church is small and led by a handsome young parson, the shepherd of a fine flock. I believe him to be holy and virtuous but somewhat misinformed. Today they discussed the death of one of their brothers who killed himself in a great sacrifice to his father. The parson continued to refer to the deceased as your brother and our brother and the father of the deceased as our father. Naturally, I grew quite concerned as these poor people were obviously confused about my lineage. I ascended the pulpit to set the story straight: my father is dead and buried in Paris, not alive here in Provence, and my brother certainly did not sacrifice himself to him, for he is, by no help of mine and to my great disappointment, still alive. Close examination of my visage and family name should reveal that I am not related to any of them. Upon vacating the pulpit, I made my rounds to the membership and offered my condolences to each and every one individually, on the death of their sibling. The water in this town must have something in it or the people must be naturally fertile for them all to be related. One can only wonder what transpires at family reunions.

The sermon moved away from the death of the family member and there was much talk of good harvests and reapers. They seemed preoccupied with filling the granaries of their lord. (The only lord I know of in these parts is Lord Bedrich Panacek and I believe that he oversees the lands of the entire duchy.) I could only assume that these people are the tenants of Lord Bedrich and his wife. They seemed to be quite enthused to turn out and work their peasants even harder to bring in a bountiful harvest. Lord Bedrich must have keen eyes, for the good Parson advised that he was always watching and sees all of our actions and even our most secret thoughts. (I do hope that he was entertained and has a good sense of humour as I shared a fortnight with my bele chose and the team of jolly coachmen! My dear friend, let me tell you, those coachmen were indeed well-travelled. If you should happen upon an opportunity, I suggest that you take a very long trip by coach if you should ever require entertainment and distraction.)

The congregation kindly passed a plate to collect the lords rent and I thought it interesting that his tenants make their payments in this way. As I pay my rent in full each month, I did not feel it necessary to add funds on his money plate. In fact, I found it quite convenient as I had already paid my rent this month and Lord Bedrich had not the correct change. I exacted that amount from the money plate and now consider us to be even. It wasnt until halfway through the passing-of-the-plate that I realized, with shock and horror, that these good people were not receiving receipts for their payments! How would Lord Bedrich know who to credit with the exact amount? This system is clearly open to suspect and corruption. My dear friend, you shall know that I took it upon myself to intervene! I grandly strode forth, stopped the service and intercepted the money plate. Announcing my concerns and intentions, I fetched some parchment from the great book upon the altar, stole a feather quill from my coiffure, used the parsons cup of wine for ink, and wrote receipts for all. My spirit is at rest knowing that these goodly people will not be taken advantage of for their kind generosity.

In all, I found the Sunday to be a rewarding, uplifting event and nurturing for my spirit. Thank you so much for your direction.

Please give my regards to the little ones,

Much Love,

Renonys