Disclaimer: J.R.R. Tolkien owns The Lord of the Rings. Peter Jackson owns
the movies. But I successfully haggled with Elijah over the rights to
Frodo. Yes indeed, sexual favors were involved.
Day Ten:
Judd Bracegirdle is an absolute scoundrel! It's all over town about how he got horribly drunk in The Green Dragon over in Bywater and behaved like a complete boor, taking appalling liberties with the barmaids. When I first heard that bit of the story, I almost wished I was one of said barmaids, but now I have quite changed my mind, considering what he did after leaving the bar! On his way home, he broke several windows at Bag End and, seeing that the Gamgees weren't at home, crept inside. In fact, I believe the Gamgees had gone to Buckland to dine with Mr. Merry Brandybuck. Anyway, to continue, Judd snuck (or rather, stumbled) inside Bag End and started ransacking. Apparently he made a horrible mess and broke a good many valuables before he was apprehended by Mr. Baggins, who was in the house the whole time. He had not been able to go to Buckland due to a severe head cold, and had been fast asleep until he heard glass shattering. Anyway, Mr. Baggins, head cold and all, grabbed Judd from behind and tackled him just as Judd was about to go for Mr. Baggins' famed mail shirt. Imagine! Attempting to steal a shirt of mithril from a hero like Mr. Baggins, who has more greatness in his pinky finger than the likes of Judd Bracegirdle has in his entire being! To think that I ever admired such an idiot as Judd!
Mr. Baggins showed remarkable restraint considering Judd's behavior. He didn't even call the authorities directly! He talked for ten minutes or so to the so-drunk-he-was-barely-conscious Judd about why Judd was doing such a thing and whom he was trying to impress (It turned out that Nat's story of the other day was quite accurate...Judd had dared Brandy Winkle to smash a window of Bag End and Brandy wouldn't do it and said Judd probably wouldn't have the nerve to do it either. So Judd punched Brandy and went on to take the dare). Without so much as boxing Judd's ears, Mr. Baggins let him go freely once he had Judd's word of honor that he would pay for the damage he had caused. Mr. Baggins took that creature's word of honor! It seems to me that Mr. Baggins is either incredibly naïve and stupid, or else has an unfathomable depth of confidence in the innate goodness of hobbits.
Day Eleven:
I was outside planting tulips and singing just now when Mr. Baggins and Mr. Gamgee happened along Winkle Way (the name of our road). I was actually singing a tune that I had made up myself to go with the words of my favorite piece in Mr. Baggins' book of poems. I was kneeling with my back to the road and I think the two gentlehobbits must have stood there listening, just a few yards away from me, for quite a while, without my knowledge of their presence. When I reached the end of the song/poem, they both started clapping and I could actually feel the blood rushing to my face as I turned to face them.
"That was a mighty beautiful song there, Miss Emma," said Mr. Gamgee. Mr. Baggins just looked at me, smiling as though he couldn't stop smiling long enough to speak.
"Thank you," I said sheepishly.
"Say, did you ever find out who it was that left you that flower last week?" Mr. Gamgee asked.
"No, I had forgotten all about it," I answered honestly. "It's still blooming though."
"Is it now?" Mr. Gamgee seemed to be very amused about something. "What do you say to that, Mr. Frodo? All those pretty flowers you purchased from Miss Emma last week are still blooming as well, aren't they? And very lovely they are too, Miss Emma."
Mr. Baggins nodded in agreement, but kept glancing around as though very much distracted from the conversation. He seemed anxious to be on his way. "Well, we're lucky to have good soil on Periwinkle Slope," I said in response to Mr. Gamgee's praise.
"Indeed. Well, must be off. Good day Miss Emma," said Mr. Gamgee. They walked away and I went inside to have a cool drink and write a bit. I think Mr. Gamgee knows who sent the nasturtian, but I'm still too shocked about Judd to care.
Day Twelve:
I fell of a ladder today while pruning the red tips, which are just huge now. I leaned too far forward reaching my shears for the topmost branches, and the ladder started to tilt. So then I leaned backward, but that was too far as well and I landed on the ground very hard. I tried to stand up and moaned very loudly at the pain in my ankle, cursing my clumsiness. Mr. Baggins must have been nearby when I fell though, because a moment later he had picked me up and carried me inside. He and I seem to be always meeting these days. Anyway, Lucy was out visiting Hyacinth Chubb at the time, so Mr. Baggins stayed for a while and wrapped my ankle and got me comfortable on the sofa with my leg propped up. Then he made us some tea. He was altogether very kind and attentive, and we had an interesting little talk that ended quite strangely.
I told him how very much I was enjoying writing these days, and I showed him a few of my poems, not expecting much in the way of praise from such an accomplished poet as himself. Yet he was very pleased with my humble verses and let me know it. He alternated between lavishing praise upon me and expressing concern over my injury, saying such things as, "Emma, you're talented beyond words and do you need more tea and is your leg as comfortable as it can be and your writing shows a wisdom and sensitivity well beyond your years." He asked me to call him Frodo from now on and dispense with the "Mr. Baggins," but I don't know how comfortable I would feel referring to him so informally. He's almost too amiable, but I like him very much.
"Emma," Mr. Baggins, or rather, Frodo, said seriously at one point. "Something tremendous has happened." The light from the open window shone on his face and his blue eyes were glassy with emotion. Something was either very wrong or very wonderful.
"What is it?" I asked, almost afraid of the answer. He took a deep breath, looked off into space for a few moments, and then just smiled and got up to leave without another word, leaving me altogether puzzled.
Reviews welcome.
Day Ten:
Judd Bracegirdle is an absolute scoundrel! It's all over town about how he got horribly drunk in The Green Dragon over in Bywater and behaved like a complete boor, taking appalling liberties with the barmaids. When I first heard that bit of the story, I almost wished I was one of said barmaids, but now I have quite changed my mind, considering what he did after leaving the bar! On his way home, he broke several windows at Bag End and, seeing that the Gamgees weren't at home, crept inside. In fact, I believe the Gamgees had gone to Buckland to dine with Mr. Merry Brandybuck. Anyway, to continue, Judd snuck (or rather, stumbled) inside Bag End and started ransacking. Apparently he made a horrible mess and broke a good many valuables before he was apprehended by Mr. Baggins, who was in the house the whole time. He had not been able to go to Buckland due to a severe head cold, and had been fast asleep until he heard glass shattering. Anyway, Mr. Baggins, head cold and all, grabbed Judd from behind and tackled him just as Judd was about to go for Mr. Baggins' famed mail shirt. Imagine! Attempting to steal a shirt of mithril from a hero like Mr. Baggins, who has more greatness in his pinky finger than the likes of Judd Bracegirdle has in his entire being! To think that I ever admired such an idiot as Judd!
Mr. Baggins showed remarkable restraint considering Judd's behavior. He didn't even call the authorities directly! He talked for ten minutes or so to the so-drunk-he-was-barely-conscious Judd about why Judd was doing such a thing and whom he was trying to impress (It turned out that Nat's story of the other day was quite accurate...Judd had dared Brandy Winkle to smash a window of Bag End and Brandy wouldn't do it and said Judd probably wouldn't have the nerve to do it either. So Judd punched Brandy and went on to take the dare). Without so much as boxing Judd's ears, Mr. Baggins let him go freely once he had Judd's word of honor that he would pay for the damage he had caused. Mr. Baggins took that creature's word of honor! It seems to me that Mr. Baggins is either incredibly naïve and stupid, or else has an unfathomable depth of confidence in the innate goodness of hobbits.
Day Eleven:
I was outside planting tulips and singing just now when Mr. Baggins and Mr. Gamgee happened along Winkle Way (the name of our road). I was actually singing a tune that I had made up myself to go with the words of my favorite piece in Mr. Baggins' book of poems. I was kneeling with my back to the road and I think the two gentlehobbits must have stood there listening, just a few yards away from me, for quite a while, without my knowledge of their presence. When I reached the end of the song/poem, they both started clapping and I could actually feel the blood rushing to my face as I turned to face them.
"That was a mighty beautiful song there, Miss Emma," said Mr. Gamgee. Mr. Baggins just looked at me, smiling as though he couldn't stop smiling long enough to speak.
"Thank you," I said sheepishly.
"Say, did you ever find out who it was that left you that flower last week?" Mr. Gamgee asked.
"No, I had forgotten all about it," I answered honestly. "It's still blooming though."
"Is it now?" Mr. Gamgee seemed to be very amused about something. "What do you say to that, Mr. Frodo? All those pretty flowers you purchased from Miss Emma last week are still blooming as well, aren't they? And very lovely they are too, Miss Emma."
Mr. Baggins nodded in agreement, but kept glancing around as though very much distracted from the conversation. He seemed anxious to be on his way. "Well, we're lucky to have good soil on Periwinkle Slope," I said in response to Mr. Gamgee's praise.
"Indeed. Well, must be off. Good day Miss Emma," said Mr. Gamgee. They walked away and I went inside to have a cool drink and write a bit. I think Mr. Gamgee knows who sent the nasturtian, but I'm still too shocked about Judd to care.
Day Twelve:
I fell of a ladder today while pruning the red tips, which are just huge now. I leaned too far forward reaching my shears for the topmost branches, and the ladder started to tilt. So then I leaned backward, but that was too far as well and I landed on the ground very hard. I tried to stand up and moaned very loudly at the pain in my ankle, cursing my clumsiness. Mr. Baggins must have been nearby when I fell though, because a moment later he had picked me up and carried me inside. He and I seem to be always meeting these days. Anyway, Lucy was out visiting Hyacinth Chubb at the time, so Mr. Baggins stayed for a while and wrapped my ankle and got me comfortable on the sofa with my leg propped up. Then he made us some tea. He was altogether very kind and attentive, and we had an interesting little talk that ended quite strangely.
I told him how very much I was enjoying writing these days, and I showed him a few of my poems, not expecting much in the way of praise from such an accomplished poet as himself. Yet he was very pleased with my humble verses and let me know it. He alternated between lavishing praise upon me and expressing concern over my injury, saying such things as, "Emma, you're talented beyond words and do you need more tea and is your leg as comfortable as it can be and your writing shows a wisdom and sensitivity well beyond your years." He asked me to call him Frodo from now on and dispense with the "Mr. Baggins," but I don't know how comfortable I would feel referring to him so informally. He's almost too amiable, but I like him very much.
"Emma," Mr. Baggins, or rather, Frodo, said seriously at one point. "Something tremendous has happened." The light from the open window shone on his face and his blue eyes were glassy with emotion. Something was either very wrong or very wonderful.
"What is it?" I asked, almost afraid of the answer. He took a deep breath, looked off into space for a few moments, and then just smiled and got up to leave without another word, leaving me altogether puzzled.
Reviews welcome.