It was a hot day right in the middle of summer, with no rain for weeks
but 98 degrees of humidity. A six-year-old Elanor was lying on an old
quilted blanket in her front yard. Her classy, gorgeous mother was sweeping
around the front yard, dancing with Teensy, Caro, and Ella, a cigarette and
drink in one hand, the other leading the dance.
Rosie threw her first-born a wink and a smile, and then she got back to strutting her twists and throws on the front lawn of Bag End, which was, tonight at least, a high-class dance floor for the Ya Yas and Petites Ya Yas.
For dinner, all of the children and four girlfriends sat on blankets in the front yard, enjoying Gumbo Ya Ya salads and Bean Soup (with added Tabasco so as not to break the Ya Ya rules). After their bellies were round again, Rosie and the Ya Yas propped themselves up against the little garden fence beside the walls of Bag End, sipping mixtures of Shire Ale and strawberry cream, with small shots of Bourbon, and nothing on but small nightshirts and their panties. Their hair, curled in all its glory, was piled onto their heads and tied with old pillowcase fabric. Their Ya Ya faces resembled a sea of youth and glow, smiling as they watched their little angels, their petite babies, run around in little clothes- tailored by the Ya Yas themselves, just for summer nights in the Shire.
Later, when Teensy and her seven little petites had laidn down and fallen asleep on old quilts in the living room, and when Diamond's pregnant belly dwelled at seven months, though somehow she managed to sleep, and later, when Estella Caroline's skinny body squeezed into the living room chair, as she dreamed of little ones she could've had if only her disease didn't affect her so. And then later, when Rosie and her little angels curled up in Sam and Rosie's bed, Elanor couldn't sleep. Her feet touched the wooden floor, and the six-year old stepped carefully across the house, watching so that she missed the creaking boards, and then she swept out the round green door.
The little girl was especially strong and pretty, and on the nights when her father was away (like tonight) and she could not sleep, she walked to the Birthday Field, and she would begin to climb up the Birthday Tree her father had planted for Mr. Frodo, who she barely remembered.
When Elanor reached the best branch and sat on it, she looked outward towards the Grey Havens, where she could see the Sea twinkle like a pool of fallen stars. And when she looked to the Sea, the elves would sing, and Elanor would smile, her eyes sparkling with delight as her lovely white nightgown blew in the warm breeze.
And as she listened to the elves sing to her, and she imagined her father rocking her to sleep, Elanor Rose Gamgee knew there had never been a time when she was not loved.
Rosie threw her first-born a wink and a smile, and then she got back to strutting her twists and throws on the front lawn of Bag End, which was, tonight at least, a high-class dance floor for the Ya Yas and Petites Ya Yas.
For dinner, all of the children and four girlfriends sat on blankets in the front yard, enjoying Gumbo Ya Ya salads and Bean Soup (with added Tabasco so as not to break the Ya Ya rules). After their bellies were round again, Rosie and the Ya Yas propped themselves up against the little garden fence beside the walls of Bag End, sipping mixtures of Shire Ale and strawberry cream, with small shots of Bourbon, and nothing on but small nightshirts and their panties. Their hair, curled in all its glory, was piled onto their heads and tied with old pillowcase fabric. Their Ya Ya faces resembled a sea of youth and glow, smiling as they watched their little angels, their petite babies, run around in little clothes- tailored by the Ya Yas themselves, just for summer nights in the Shire.
Later, when Teensy and her seven little petites had laidn down and fallen asleep on old quilts in the living room, and when Diamond's pregnant belly dwelled at seven months, though somehow she managed to sleep, and later, when Estella Caroline's skinny body squeezed into the living room chair, as she dreamed of little ones she could've had if only her disease didn't affect her so. And then later, when Rosie and her little angels curled up in Sam and Rosie's bed, Elanor couldn't sleep. Her feet touched the wooden floor, and the six-year old stepped carefully across the house, watching so that she missed the creaking boards, and then she swept out the round green door.
The little girl was especially strong and pretty, and on the nights when her father was away (like tonight) and she could not sleep, she walked to the Birthday Field, and she would begin to climb up the Birthday Tree her father had planted for Mr. Frodo, who she barely remembered.
When Elanor reached the best branch and sat on it, she looked outward towards the Grey Havens, where she could see the Sea twinkle like a pool of fallen stars. And when she looked to the Sea, the elves would sing, and Elanor would smile, her eyes sparkling with delight as her lovely white nightgown blew in the warm breeze.
And as she listened to the elves sing to her, and she imagined her father rocking her to sleep, Elanor Rose Gamgee knew there had never been a time when she was not loved.
