(Note to Homeland Security: if you should suspect that the above is an encrypted message, relax. Just check my last couple of columns for the cow background.)

Now, about last Saturday and Hobart's Finnish Fest. I told you that I was bemused that little Hobart would suddenly reach into international bridge-building to celebrate a Finn being named President of the European Union. Well, as the day's program explained, Hobart had good reason for doing so:

The village was invited to hold the celebration by His Excellency Elda Stifani, Ambassador to the United Nations for the European Union. The ambassador is a weekend resident of Bloomville, a Hobart suburb. But there's more, as the program explained:

"As coincidence would have it, several members of the European Union, the Consulate ... of Finland in New York City, and the United Nations have weekend homes in the area."

They are Finns, one and all; Finns who find that our rolling hills remind them of home. And of course Finns love sub-zero cold, blizzards, cross-country skis, and snow shoes. So no wonder there's a Finnish colony not far from here.

All those Finns, with enthusiastic help from the Hobarters, jumped right in to the preparations for last Saturday. Throughout Hobart were informational pamphlets, free ballpoints and bookmarks-even free CD's of Sibelius' chamber music. (I happily snagged one of those.) And there was ample Finnish food, unpronounceable but delicious.

Finnish products and artifacts were all over the village but concentrated in the Community Center.

There, at one o'clock, Consul General Osmo Lipponen, tall, dignified, and eloquent, opened the program with remarks about his small country and the astounding number of books published there. Perhaps it's the long winter nights, but Finns devour books voraciously. I wonder if they'd enjoy one about Fly Creek ...

Then came a deeply moving film about Finland's refusal to knuckle under to the Soviet Union as WWII began, and about their astounding resistance to the USSR's army, the world's biggest. And later came readings by actor Tuomas Hil. Don Dales played the harpsichord as Tuomas also sang folk songs in a rich, light baritone. People sat rapt.

For most of that day Anne and I had the fun of escorting Fly Creek's Lady Ostapeck. She attended in folk dress from her family's part of Finland: red-and-white striped woolen skirt, white blouse and beaded vest, plus tooled-leather Finnish shoes. On arrival we three went into Hobart's best and only restaurant for some lunch. At table, Lady suddenly straightened as a group entered the door.

"They're speaking Finnish!" she exclaimed, and in a flash was at their side. I'd never heard this amazing woman speak anything but English, and that with a distinct Brooklyn accent. But there she was, entertaining a delighted crowd who turned out to have come up from the Consulate for the day.

Later, at the Community Center, Lady was introduced as a respected local artist, which she surely is. But she's so much more, isn't she.

When I got home, googling her name called up a spate of columns about her and her photography, including one by a reporter who'd interviewed Lady in her home. It was a good piece but missed, I thought, something essential. Lady, by her own testimony, lives with one foot in the spirit world. She guides her own life by flashes of profound intuition. This is nowhere more true than in her photography.

Before Lady will duck under the black cloth of her ancient Century camera to photograph someone, she will have spent at least ninety minutes interviewing the person, deciding, not "how" he or she should appear in the photo, but "who" the person should be. Then she dresses each client in period costume to evoke something essential about the person. Something essential, but likely unrecognized.

Sometimes, on seeing proofs, a client's first reaction is, "Why, I don't look like that!" Lady smiles and shrugs. "But that's who you are." And, after gazing at their photos awhile, clients almost always agree.

Her probing, often ethereal portraits have been exhibited around the States and Great Britain-and, of course, in Finland. Among the Lady Ostapeck citations that I found on the web was one from a Finnish newspaper, reviewing her show there a few years back. I pored over words incomprehensible to me and suddenly struck two I recognized. The sentence gave the name of Lady's home: "Fly Creeckissa, New Yorkin." (Now you know some Finnish!)

I wish I could have grasped more of that article. But I did hit another, almost understandable sentence; it seemed to be praising Lady's unique gifts. Here's the quote, without all the double umlauts. (I don't know how to reproduce them.) The five English words are in the original:

"Muotokuvauksen Grand Old Lady, legendaarinen amerikansuomalainen Lady Ostapeck tulee jalleen Suomeen."

To which I say, "You bet she is!"

Read Jim Atwell's new book, "From Fly Creek - Celebrating Life in Leatherstocking Country" along with Anne Geddes-Atwell's charming illustrations. Books are for sale at your local bookseller. Anne's prints from the book can be purchased by contacting her by phone or e-mail.