Chapter 20 Are we there yet?
"STOP!!" I yell at Yes Dear.
"WHAT??" he bellows back, startled out of the peace and quiet of his concentration on staying on the road by hugging the center line.
"Pull over, QUICK!" I am already out of my seatbelt and vaulting into the backseat, but even my fast acting motherly instincts will not be enough to save him this time.
"UUGGHH! MOMMA, THAT'S DISGUSTING!!" croaks Little Pip, unfastening her own seatbelt and scurrying out the door of the now parked van. She stands on the side of the roadway, holding her hand over her mouth, eyes bugging out of her head.
"Holy Cow!" exclaims Yes Dear, now standing at the side door with Little Pip. "I thought elves couldn't get sick?"
Legolas looks at me wide-eyed, clearly caught off-guard by what has happened. Obviously he didn't know elves could get sick either.
"He's not sick. It's just an upset stomach from the motion of the car," I reply, grabbing the roll of paper towels and the box of baby wipes that we keep under the seat. He doesn't say a word as the two of us work to get him presentable, and I can clearly see this has him pretty rattled. I'd bet heavily that nothing like this has ever happened to him before.
"Help me get your sweatshirt off," I tell him, tugging the sleeves over his hands, tucking his hair down the neck, and carefully lifting the sweatshirt over his head.
"Wheau. . . ." he gasps as he emerges.
"Yeah! Whew!" says Yes Dear.
"More like PHEW!" says Little Pip.
I help him out of the van and search for a path down to the stream so we can get him rinsed off a bit. Yes Dear has found a plastic grocery bag and is airing out the van as he bags up what he can of the mess. Thank God he's got a strong stomach.
It's also a good thing elves aren't affected by the cold, as Legolas has pulled off his undershirt and is squatting down on an exposed rock in the center of the stream, washing in the icy mountain water. Yes Dear approaches with what is left of the roll of paper towels so Legolas can dry himself off.
"Did your undershirt get wet too?" Yes Dear asks him.
"Yeas," mutters Legolas.
"Here, you can wear mine," Yes Dear says, pulling his sweatshirt over his head.
To help cut the motion effects, I change places with Legolas so he can ride shotgun. Maybe it won't bother him so much in the front seat.
The odor is still pretty strong, so Yes Dear takes the van on an air-out tour, whipping along the winding road at a whopping 25 miles per hour with all the windows rolled down. At forty degrees plus the wind chill factor, it's not long before we're all freezing and shivering and thinking about which is worse, the chill or the smell. All except Legolas, of course. Cold really doesn't seem to affect him at all.
"This is all HIS fault," grumbles Little Pip.
We come upon a small town, one of those little touristy places with all the small quaint shops that line the road. We pick one that has sweatshirts in the window, hoping to find something for Legolas to wear so that Yes Dear can have his own sweatshirt back. Legolas picks out a hunter green one with a fantastic screen-printed bird's eye view of the mountains, covered in snowy peaks, with an eagle flying over them. It says, "Welcome to the Great Smoky Mountains." I try one on for size myself, and decide to get one just like it, planning to match Yes Dear when he becomes heir to Legolas' sweatshirt when he returns to Middle earth. The guys head to the dressing rooms to switch shirts, while Little Pip and I take the price tags and the checkbook to the counter to pay. As we leave the shop, Legolas sticks his nose in the air, sniffing.
"Thur iz sum kiend of smael oen da aire," he announces.
"You did that already. . . . .TWICE," says Little Pip, grimacing. "Don't tell me you did it AGAIN."
"Itz comen frum ovr DERE," he says, pointing across the street.
He's off like a flash before I can stop him, darting between cars in the long line waiting for parking places here on Main Street. Zigging and zagging, horns blowing everywhere. He finally stops as he reaches the front window of the shop.
It's a candy store. I should have known.
In the front display window stands a man with a huge copper bowl and a spatula. He is emptying the contents of the bowl onto a marble block table set with metal bars laid out in a rectangle covering the tabletop. The dark brown semisolid substance he pours oozes over the side of the bowl, flowing slowly and smoothly as it stretches languidly to fill the space laid out before it.
Fudge.
Legolas is mesmerized, staring unabashedly open-mouthed at the sight laid out before him. He is all but drooling. The fudge man smiles knowingly at me. The two of us must really be a sight, standing there side by side, eyes wide, mouths gaping open, wearing matching sweatshirts and warrior braids. Sort of unidentical chocolate lusting twins.
Yes Dear breaks the spell. "You can't get any if you stand here gawking outside," he says, reaching to open the door.
The sweet perfume of chocolate is almost overwhelming. Legolas follows me inside, gaping at the rows and rows of various kinds of things done to chocolate, done with chocolate, done by chocolate. Bars and bars of fudge in different flavors and colors: Rocky road, milk chocolate, maple crème, walnut, and pecan. Dollops of chocolate coat strawberries, pretzels, and cookies of all kinds. There are peanut butter cups, and chocolate covered peanuts, and chocolate covered cherries.
I glance over at the Prance. He looks like a kid who's won an all-expenses- paid-choose-anything-and-everything-you-want trip to a major toy store chain.
"What do you want?" Yes Dear asks him.
"I waent won of. . . . . .of. . . . . . .eberythang. . . " he whispers in awe.
Yes, after all, it IS Christmas.
We end up with 4 different kinds of fudge cut into quarter-pound size bars, some maple crème truffles, and a bag of milk chocolate covered peanuts. To this list, Little Pip adds a stick of rock candy, Yes Dear a bag of dark chocolate covered raisins, and Legolas and I each add a frozen chocolate covered banana on a stick.
"Haldir wuld like dis," he mumbles through the mouthful of mush.
We head back to the car, carrying our little pleasures, ready now for resuming the quest. Legolas once again climbs into the front seat, his lips firmly planted around the frozen banana, eyes almost closed as he savors it. Yes Dear rolls his eyes at me, only to discover I am mirroring the scene. God, I love a chocolate covered frozen banana. Please bless the one who thought of this I think.
Ten more minutes climbing uphill and Little Pip spots the first sign advertising the tree farm. "Only 6 miles to go!" she announces. The sign spotting soon turns into another contest, but with Legolas clearly at the advantage between his keen eyesight and the front seat positioning, she soon gives up the hunt and lets him call the countdown. The more the mileage goes down, the more his excitation rises. By the time we get there, he is in a state of frenzy. As we turn into the driveway to the parking area, Little Pip proclaims, "NOW we're here, block head."
"OEH, BOEY! WEERE HEAR!"
There's a frantic moment where he can't get his seatbelt undone because he is pulling too hard and has engaged the safety response for slow crash speeds. Yes Dear gives him a little push on the chest back against the seat, and the catch pops loose and he's free. He catapults out of the van, stopping to stand and stare at the acres and acres of evergreen trees, all neatly spaced just so far from each other, and shaped with loving care to physical perfection.
"WOEW!" he softly exclaims.
We pile into the old open bed, rattle trap truck that will take us out into the fields of trees. The driver stops and explains what type of tree is growing in each field as he comes to it, dispatching and picking up passengers along the way. Legolas is heedless of the speech, already knowing all the various species. He stands facing forward in the front of the truckbed, palms on the top of the cab, his head thrown back with the sun on his face, blonde hair waving in the breeze, eyes closed, radiant smile beaming. I think this is the look the Elves must have when they are sailing into Valinor.
We finally reach our destination . . . . the field of Fraser Fir Trees. Last stop on the trip, it is also the largest field of trees on the farm. Little Pip and Legolas are already off into the forest of trees, as Yes Dear and I check to see if any of the rules have changed since last year and to borrow a bow saw.
Legolas looks like a politician as he wanders through the crowd of trees, stopping to speak to each one in turn, caressing branches much like a politician would shake hands with his constituents. He's in his element now.
It's a good hour before we narrow down the search to a couple of choices. Making the final decision, we pick a tree that is tall and fat, a good 8 footer. I grasp the tree by the trunk as Yes Dear kneels in the grass with the bow saw and prepares to make his cut.
"WHUT EEN DA FIERZ OF MOERDOAR DUE U THAENK U AR DOEN???!!" comes a sudden shout from our left. Before either of us can blink, Legolas has grasped Yes Dear's wrist and placed himself between the bow saw and the tree.
"I'm cutting the tree so that we can put it in the car and take it home," states Yes Dear matter of factly.
Legolas stares at him blankly, then looks up to give me a steely glare. "U kinnot jest kut a trea an draeg it eentu da houese an adoern it wile it diez!" he says through gritted teeth.
Yes Dear and I stare at each other. Little Pip stands off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest, tap tap tapping her foot again. "He's right, you know," she says.
Standing up as Legolas releases his arm, Yes Dear sighs. "I guess I could go see if they would let us dig up a root ball, and we could plant it in the yard after the holidays are over."
"Would that be ok?" I ask the Prance.
He confers momentarily with the tree. Turning to me, he nods yes.
A short while later, we are piling back into the dilapidated truck, squeezed in with the rest of the mighty tree hunters. Legolas is at first upset over the number of trees in the kill, but calms down after a period of time reassuring the trees that they have not died in vain, that they will be dressed in the most elaborate ornamentation and finery and displayed on a most holy occasion.
Upon our return to the gift shop and barn where the money is collected, Legolas and Yes Dear carefully load our prize into the back of the van, laying it reverently on the floor. No riding on the top of the car for our beloved tree, no siree! We all pile into the barn to get a cup of hot apple cider and a hot dog. As we enter, I hear Legolas gasp behind me. Turning, I am caught unawares for the second time that day.
I didn't know elves could do that either.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lub Ledders frum Legolas:
CowgirlKK12: U wear furst agin! WooHoo (c Celeborn)! Iz dis suun enuf? U shuld noet fite wid ur bruthr. . . .. buet it IZ fuen, iznt it? Neber miend den. Tea hea!
TreeHugger: Cowgirl KK12 haz a cruesh oen me? WooHoo (c Celeborn agin)!! Owr reel keetiez luuk seely waren antleerz tu, espaesially dat Mikey. I due lub Beenie Baebeez, buet my faevorte iz Ragz dat haengz ober da haedbord of alz bed. Ef I kin ried Arod an shute my boe an aroz, whutz anuthr cuple huendrid horeses beatween my neez, huh? I weel hav tu braed sum yaern fur Yeas Deer tu ware oen hees haed. He deed a guud joeb noet bean maed at me. Wate teel u sea whut hapend nex! Hae Elu an Brethil!
Grammar Laedee: U ar buet a chield en immoral yeerz. U kinnot foowl me. I saew dat maen magnit SUV u bot. An I noe u got kuukeez frum da saelzmaen. Goen tu da mowntaenz baybee? Sea u suun! Kin I driev tu da stoep sine en da neu kar whin u com? PLEEAZE???
Eileen: I hav sean doze heperz. I em steel luukin fur da reel Saenta soe I kin giv heem a liest.
Lady Silence: Hae, I noe Monica tu! Thaenkz fur da boex of fuedje, buet deed Alli eet al da fuedje beafour u rappd it? Or wuz da fuedje I taestd oen ur tung?
Michelle: Me? I aelwaez beahaev! *wistlez as I thaenk hoew maed al an Leedle Peep ar gunna bea whin dey fiend out when gedding reddy fur chuerch tumoerroe dat I sweetched dere parez of paentihoez-tea hea!!*
isilwen: Me, nawty? Neber! *maekz noet tu sef to eraes "Elvish Lessons" beafour leevin fur Meedle erth * I em glaed I culd bea ur furst fur ur elf- kees. Hear iz anuthr! *KEES *
Jazz: Itz noet a faert, itz an elvis miest! Huemanz faert! An Hobbitz!
Arilyn: I thaenk a loet of peepel due it oen dat dae, buet I bet dey doent hav az muech fuen!
the_ringspell: Yeas, I blaem TreaHueggr dat eberybuddie thaenkz dey hav sean me nekkid. A cupl of tiemz, eben. We deed taek a loeng tiem tu peek a reely perty trea!
laure: al duz noet like whin da cumputr iz broek ethr. Deed u brake it wid ur feengrz, or deed u heet ur haed on da keebord? I hoep u ar okae. . . .
Seaweed: Ef I kin pearch oen a teany braench at da vary toep of a trea, leenin outtada kar weendoe iz noet a beeg deel. I thaenk Saenta ez soe faet beacuz he haz a sloe meatabulizm. Plues he luukz guud dat wae. Loetz of paeddin whin u siet oen heez nee aftur staendin een lien soe loeng.
The Two Princesses: A & L-whut a koensidance! Datz a guud won, laedeez! I em RODFL! Haengin outtada kar ez noe deeferant dan riedin Arod wile shuutin my boe an aroz. Okae, hearz won moer flaez fur u *flaex* Deed u here dat? Deed u like it?
Angaloth: Thaenk u fur joenin us! I weel bea in Meedle erth fur Chreestmiss, buet al sez thaenkz an we hoep u hav a guud won tu.
Kat: * al swipes keyboard * Hi, Kat! Thanks-he can be a handful, but I have enjoyed every minute (well, not the time I lost him in Walmart). We live in a very small town, so fangirls so far have not been a problem if I keep him dressed "Modrn erth" with a hat to cover his hair. Legolas does get 98% of the mail that comes through my box. Letting him go will certainly be one of the hardest things I have ever done. * Hae! Datz enuf. Itz my tuern. I em soe glaed u deesided tu rite tu me. U kin neber hav tu meeny lub ledderz, wich iz whie al hepz me tipe deze up all da tiem. Hear iz a hueg an kees fur ur braeveree. *Hueg, Kees! *
Skye Rocket: OOOooo! U deed it agin! I lub day whin u due dat! Due it agin!!!
Sake: U kin com sea me at da mooveez. Maek shur u waev, it iz daerk an sumtiemz haerd tu sea in dere.
Princess ArWen of sMirkwood: U noe, it iz jest like a Pranciss tu thaenk she kin tael a Prance whut tu due. Whoe duz she thaenk she iz, taelin me tu siet doewn?? * Legolas, hush! She's just commenting on her favorite part of the chapter, not telling you what to do! OOOooohhhh,. . . .* Blueshez* Sorree. Hearz a kees tu maek up, okae? * KEES*
Andy's Princess: al, she eez krien!!! Whut due I due?? al, we maed her krie!! * gits wied eyed distrassd luuk oen faece* Kiss her, Legolas! A little CPR never hurts. Okae, guud thaenkin al! * KEESEZ U* Iz dat bedder?
Phoenix Flight: u awaez beahav! It iz a loeng wae tu da moentinz frum alz hoesz. I em glaed I like tu saeng!
JaguarKitty2006: al sez we ar neer Auburn an alsoe Clempsun. Guud ketch! Goe Jagz! WooHoo! * al nudges Legolas* ohh, yeah, sorree! I furgot tu puet (c Celeborn)
Karri: *waevz * Hae Karri: Luuk, u got tiekitz! I weel rimaembr ur aedvise, an I weel en noe wae aloew da Dwarf tu beet me. Broekn reebz? * bleenkz* Hearz a hueg fur u! ((((huegz))))))
Elven Princess-Gwenedh: I lub u tu! * Huegz*
Magical Rachel: al sez itz E Z tu diskribe seence she wuz dere whin it hapned. I weesh I wuz staen hear fur Chreestmiss, buet it wuz noet supozd tu bea dat I fael out of da moovee tu beagin wid, soe I doent sea it haepenin agin. Loeng hare hepz en a fite, u kin swaeng it aron an heet ur enamee en de eyez wid ur hare. Doe doze Orkz sumties like tu fit all gurlee an puell ur hare tu. Dat kin bea a proeblm.
Anja: I wuld lub fu u tu com liv wid us! al sez she wuld tu! bie bie! * huegs*
SarWolf Snape: I deed hav fuen! Stae tuend!
Undomiel Greenleaf: Elfz ar guud wid heestiry, mebbe I wuld bea abl tu hep. Wegeez frum Hael due huert, an skrubbin ur skeen kleen aftur u culor a suen taetuu oen ur baellibudden huertz tu! I told you not to do that, it serves you right. Weel, u deedn't hav tu uze da saend frum da saend boez, u noe! It came off, didn't it? And you call yourself a worrier. . . . .* bleenkz*
Puter Patty: Aheem eendeed! Luukz like u culd teech me alod of thangz! U goet a praesnt fur me? Hoew lublee! Thaenk u! I em glaed tu haer u wuld bie me frum Ebae-I wuldn't waent won of doze faengurlz tu git me! I thot dat wuz a seekrit? An u kald me a hubba-hubba AN a huenk of buernin lub! ?*THUD* Now PP, look what you did! He's gonna get another head injury doing all this sliding out of the chair, or a stroke from the lack of blood to his brain. Get up, Legolas! *pats Lego's face with ice cube from tea glass* Legolas??? *drops ice cube down front of Lego's BBB's* WOOOAAAAHHHH!! Okae! Okae! I em hear, I em hear!!!
IRENA: KIN U SEA DIS WAE DOEWN HEAR??? Weel u pae me fur dat pikshure? *groewlz * I hoep soe! I weesh I culd sea ur trea tu *Cofz * I hav sum hikut breefz, an it IZ eezer tu ware ur paentz wid breefz dan bokzers.
JastaElf: Hae Jasta! Hae Ada! Ada, deed u bloe agin??? U muest bea kareful, wach ur bluud praesur an all. Weel. I neu da Neeknaemz. Buet da storee dat goez eid dem iz sertunlee deeferant, tho it tu deed envolv speelage. She kald me Huenniebuen of Lub agin! * swuunz* She said you were sweet and cute too, Legolas. * faintz agin* Jasta, don't you find him a little hard to hug when he's melted all over the place like this?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OK, next chapter is coming soon, like in less than 48 hours, ok? Do it quick, it's the little button down there that SHOULD say "Give Legolas Some Love," don't you think?
"STOP!!" I yell at Yes Dear.
"WHAT??" he bellows back, startled out of the peace and quiet of his concentration on staying on the road by hugging the center line.
"Pull over, QUICK!" I am already out of my seatbelt and vaulting into the backseat, but even my fast acting motherly instincts will not be enough to save him this time.
"UUGGHH! MOMMA, THAT'S DISGUSTING!!" croaks Little Pip, unfastening her own seatbelt and scurrying out the door of the now parked van. She stands on the side of the roadway, holding her hand over her mouth, eyes bugging out of her head.
"Holy Cow!" exclaims Yes Dear, now standing at the side door with Little Pip. "I thought elves couldn't get sick?"
Legolas looks at me wide-eyed, clearly caught off-guard by what has happened. Obviously he didn't know elves could get sick either.
"He's not sick. It's just an upset stomach from the motion of the car," I reply, grabbing the roll of paper towels and the box of baby wipes that we keep under the seat. He doesn't say a word as the two of us work to get him presentable, and I can clearly see this has him pretty rattled. I'd bet heavily that nothing like this has ever happened to him before.
"Help me get your sweatshirt off," I tell him, tugging the sleeves over his hands, tucking his hair down the neck, and carefully lifting the sweatshirt over his head.
"Wheau. . . ." he gasps as he emerges.
"Yeah! Whew!" says Yes Dear.
"More like PHEW!" says Little Pip.
I help him out of the van and search for a path down to the stream so we can get him rinsed off a bit. Yes Dear has found a plastic grocery bag and is airing out the van as he bags up what he can of the mess. Thank God he's got a strong stomach.
It's also a good thing elves aren't affected by the cold, as Legolas has pulled off his undershirt and is squatting down on an exposed rock in the center of the stream, washing in the icy mountain water. Yes Dear approaches with what is left of the roll of paper towels so Legolas can dry himself off.
"Did your undershirt get wet too?" Yes Dear asks him.
"Yeas," mutters Legolas.
"Here, you can wear mine," Yes Dear says, pulling his sweatshirt over his head.
To help cut the motion effects, I change places with Legolas so he can ride shotgun. Maybe it won't bother him so much in the front seat.
The odor is still pretty strong, so Yes Dear takes the van on an air-out tour, whipping along the winding road at a whopping 25 miles per hour with all the windows rolled down. At forty degrees plus the wind chill factor, it's not long before we're all freezing and shivering and thinking about which is worse, the chill or the smell. All except Legolas, of course. Cold really doesn't seem to affect him at all.
"This is all HIS fault," grumbles Little Pip.
We come upon a small town, one of those little touristy places with all the small quaint shops that line the road. We pick one that has sweatshirts in the window, hoping to find something for Legolas to wear so that Yes Dear can have his own sweatshirt back. Legolas picks out a hunter green one with a fantastic screen-printed bird's eye view of the mountains, covered in snowy peaks, with an eagle flying over them. It says, "Welcome to the Great Smoky Mountains." I try one on for size myself, and decide to get one just like it, planning to match Yes Dear when he becomes heir to Legolas' sweatshirt when he returns to Middle earth. The guys head to the dressing rooms to switch shirts, while Little Pip and I take the price tags and the checkbook to the counter to pay. As we leave the shop, Legolas sticks his nose in the air, sniffing.
"Thur iz sum kiend of smael oen da aire," he announces.
"You did that already. . . . .TWICE," says Little Pip, grimacing. "Don't tell me you did it AGAIN."
"Itz comen frum ovr DERE," he says, pointing across the street.
He's off like a flash before I can stop him, darting between cars in the long line waiting for parking places here on Main Street. Zigging and zagging, horns blowing everywhere. He finally stops as he reaches the front window of the shop.
It's a candy store. I should have known.
In the front display window stands a man with a huge copper bowl and a spatula. He is emptying the contents of the bowl onto a marble block table set with metal bars laid out in a rectangle covering the tabletop. The dark brown semisolid substance he pours oozes over the side of the bowl, flowing slowly and smoothly as it stretches languidly to fill the space laid out before it.
Fudge.
Legolas is mesmerized, staring unabashedly open-mouthed at the sight laid out before him. He is all but drooling. The fudge man smiles knowingly at me. The two of us must really be a sight, standing there side by side, eyes wide, mouths gaping open, wearing matching sweatshirts and warrior braids. Sort of unidentical chocolate lusting twins.
Yes Dear breaks the spell. "You can't get any if you stand here gawking outside," he says, reaching to open the door.
The sweet perfume of chocolate is almost overwhelming. Legolas follows me inside, gaping at the rows and rows of various kinds of things done to chocolate, done with chocolate, done by chocolate. Bars and bars of fudge in different flavors and colors: Rocky road, milk chocolate, maple crème, walnut, and pecan. Dollops of chocolate coat strawberries, pretzels, and cookies of all kinds. There are peanut butter cups, and chocolate covered peanuts, and chocolate covered cherries.
I glance over at the Prance. He looks like a kid who's won an all-expenses- paid-choose-anything-and-everything-you-want trip to a major toy store chain.
"What do you want?" Yes Dear asks him.
"I waent won of. . . . . .of. . . . . . .eberythang. . . " he whispers in awe.
Yes, after all, it IS Christmas.
We end up with 4 different kinds of fudge cut into quarter-pound size bars, some maple crème truffles, and a bag of milk chocolate covered peanuts. To this list, Little Pip adds a stick of rock candy, Yes Dear a bag of dark chocolate covered raisins, and Legolas and I each add a frozen chocolate covered banana on a stick.
"Haldir wuld like dis," he mumbles through the mouthful of mush.
We head back to the car, carrying our little pleasures, ready now for resuming the quest. Legolas once again climbs into the front seat, his lips firmly planted around the frozen banana, eyes almost closed as he savors it. Yes Dear rolls his eyes at me, only to discover I am mirroring the scene. God, I love a chocolate covered frozen banana. Please bless the one who thought of this I think.
Ten more minutes climbing uphill and Little Pip spots the first sign advertising the tree farm. "Only 6 miles to go!" she announces. The sign spotting soon turns into another contest, but with Legolas clearly at the advantage between his keen eyesight and the front seat positioning, she soon gives up the hunt and lets him call the countdown. The more the mileage goes down, the more his excitation rises. By the time we get there, he is in a state of frenzy. As we turn into the driveway to the parking area, Little Pip proclaims, "NOW we're here, block head."
"OEH, BOEY! WEERE HEAR!"
There's a frantic moment where he can't get his seatbelt undone because he is pulling too hard and has engaged the safety response for slow crash speeds. Yes Dear gives him a little push on the chest back against the seat, and the catch pops loose and he's free. He catapults out of the van, stopping to stand and stare at the acres and acres of evergreen trees, all neatly spaced just so far from each other, and shaped with loving care to physical perfection.
"WOEW!" he softly exclaims.
We pile into the old open bed, rattle trap truck that will take us out into the fields of trees. The driver stops and explains what type of tree is growing in each field as he comes to it, dispatching and picking up passengers along the way. Legolas is heedless of the speech, already knowing all the various species. He stands facing forward in the front of the truckbed, palms on the top of the cab, his head thrown back with the sun on his face, blonde hair waving in the breeze, eyes closed, radiant smile beaming. I think this is the look the Elves must have when they are sailing into Valinor.
We finally reach our destination . . . . the field of Fraser Fir Trees. Last stop on the trip, it is also the largest field of trees on the farm. Little Pip and Legolas are already off into the forest of trees, as Yes Dear and I check to see if any of the rules have changed since last year and to borrow a bow saw.
Legolas looks like a politician as he wanders through the crowd of trees, stopping to speak to each one in turn, caressing branches much like a politician would shake hands with his constituents. He's in his element now.
It's a good hour before we narrow down the search to a couple of choices. Making the final decision, we pick a tree that is tall and fat, a good 8 footer. I grasp the tree by the trunk as Yes Dear kneels in the grass with the bow saw and prepares to make his cut.
"WHUT EEN DA FIERZ OF MOERDOAR DUE U THAENK U AR DOEN???!!" comes a sudden shout from our left. Before either of us can blink, Legolas has grasped Yes Dear's wrist and placed himself between the bow saw and the tree.
"I'm cutting the tree so that we can put it in the car and take it home," states Yes Dear matter of factly.
Legolas stares at him blankly, then looks up to give me a steely glare. "U kinnot jest kut a trea an draeg it eentu da houese an adoern it wile it diez!" he says through gritted teeth.
Yes Dear and I stare at each other. Little Pip stands off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest, tap tap tapping her foot again. "He's right, you know," she says.
Standing up as Legolas releases his arm, Yes Dear sighs. "I guess I could go see if they would let us dig up a root ball, and we could plant it in the yard after the holidays are over."
"Would that be ok?" I ask the Prance.
He confers momentarily with the tree. Turning to me, he nods yes.
A short while later, we are piling back into the dilapidated truck, squeezed in with the rest of the mighty tree hunters. Legolas is at first upset over the number of trees in the kill, but calms down after a period of time reassuring the trees that they have not died in vain, that they will be dressed in the most elaborate ornamentation and finery and displayed on a most holy occasion.
Upon our return to the gift shop and barn where the money is collected, Legolas and Yes Dear carefully load our prize into the back of the van, laying it reverently on the floor. No riding on the top of the car for our beloved tree, no siree! We all pile into the barn to get a cup of hot apple cider and a hot dog. As we enter, I hear Legolas gasp behind me. Turning, I am caught unawares for the second time that day.
I didn't know elves could do that either.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lub Ledders frum Legolas:
CowgirlKK12: U wear furst agin! WooHoo (c Celeborn)! Iz dis suun enuf? U shuld noet fite wid ur bruthr. . . .. buet it IZ fuen, iznt it? Neber miend den. Tea hea!
TreeHugger: Cowgirl KK12 haz a cruesh oen me? WooHoo (c Celeborn agin)!! Owr reel keetiez luuk seely waren antleerz tu, espaesially dat Mikey. I due lub Beenie Baebeez, buet my faevorte iz Ragz dat haengz ober da haedbord of alz bed. Ef I kin ried Arod an shute my boe an aroz, whutz anuthr cuple huendrid horeses beatween my neez, huh? I weel hav tu braed sum yaern fur Yeas Deer tu ware oen hees haed. He deed a guud joeb noet bean maed at me. Wate teel u sea whut hapend nex! Hae Elu an Brethil!
Grammar Laedee: U ar buet a chield en immoral yeerz. U kinnot foowl me. I saew dat maen magnit SUV u bot. An I noe u got kuukeez frum da saelzmaen. Goen tu da mowntaenz baybee? Sea u suun! Kin I driev tu da stoep sine en da neu kar whin u com? PLEEAZE???
Eileen: I hav sean doze heperz. I em steel luukin fur da reel Saenta soe I kin giv heem a liest.
Lady Silence: Hae, I noe Monica tu! Thaenkz fur da boex of fuedje, buet deed Alli eet al da fuedje beafour u rappd it? Or wuz da fuedje I taestd oen ur tung?
Michelle: Me? I aelwaez beahaev! *wistlez as I thaenk hoew maed al an Leedle Peep ar gunna bea whin dey fiend out when gedding reddy fur chuerch tumoerroe dat I sweetched dere parez of paentihoez-tea hea!!*
isilwen: Me, nawty? Neber! *maekz noet tu sef to eraes "Elvish Lessons" beafour leevin fur Meedle erth * I em glaed I culd bea ur furst fur ur elf- kees. Hear iz anuthr! *KEES *
Jazz: Itz noet a faert, itz an elvis miest! Huemanz faert! An Hobbitz!
Arilyn: I thaenk a loet of peepel due it oen dat dae, buet I bet dey doent hav az muech fuen!
the_ringspell: Yeas, I blaem TreaHueggr dat eberybuddie thaenkz dey hav sean me nekkid. A cupl of tiemz, eben. We deed taek a loeng tiem tu peek a reely perty trea!
laure: al duz noet like whin da cumputr iz broek ethr. Deed u brake it wid ur feengrz, or deed u heet ur haed on da keebord? I hoep u ar okae. . . .
Seaweed: Ef I kin pearch oen a teany braench at da vary toep of a trea, leenin outtada kar weendoe iz noet a beeg deel. I thaenk Saenta ez soe faet beacuz he haz a sloe meatabulizm. Plues he luukz guud dat wae. Loetz of paeddin whin u siet oen heez nee aftur staendin een lien soe loeng.
The Two Princesses: A & L-whut a koensidance! Datz a guud won, laedeez! I em RODFL! Haengin outtada kar ez noe deeferant dan riedin Arod wile shuutin my boe an aroz. Okae, hearz won moer flaez fur u *flaex* Deed u here dat? Deed u like it?
Angaloth: Thaenk u fur joenin us! I weel bea in Meedle erth fur Chreestmiss, buet al sez thaenkz an we hoep u hav a guud won tu.
Kat: * al swipes keyboard * Hi, Kat! Thanks-he can be a handful, but I have enjoyed every minute (well, not the time I lost him in Walmart). We live in a very small town, so fangirls so far have not been a problem if I keep him dressed "Modrn erth" with a hat to cover his hair. Legolas does get 98% of the mail that comes through my box. Letting him go will certainly be one of the hardest things I have ever done. * Hae! Datz enuf. Itz my tuern. I em soe glaed u deesided tu rite tu me. U kin neber hav tu meeny lub ledderz, wich iz whie al hepz me tipe deze up all da tiem. Hear iz a hueg an kees fur ur braeveree. *Hueg, Kees! *
Skye Rocket: OOOooo! U deed it agin! I lub day whin u due dat! Due it agin!!!
Sake: U kin com sea me at da mooveez. Maek shur u waev, it iz daerk an sumtiemz haerd tu sea in dere.
Princess ArWen of sMirkwood: U noe, it iz jest like a Pranciss tu thaenk she kin tael a Prance whut tu due. Whoe duz she thaenk she iz, taelin me tu siet doewn?? * Legolas, hush! She's just commenting on her favorite part of the chapter, not telling you what to do! OOOooohhhh,. . . .* Blueshez* Sorree. Hearz a kees tu maek up, okae? * KEES*
Andy's Princess: al, she eez krien!!! Whut due I due?? al, we maed her krie!! * gits wied eyed distrassd luuk oen faece* Kiss her, Legolas! A little CPR never hurts. Okae, guud thaenkin al! * KEESEZ U* Iz dat bedder?
Phoenix Flight: u awaez beahav! It iz a loeng wae tu da moentinz frum alz hoesz. I em glaed I like tu saeng!
JaguarKitty2006: al sez we ar neer Auburn an alsoe Clempsun. Guud ketch! Goe Jagz! WooHoo! * al nudges Legolas* ohh, yeah, sorree! I furgot tu puet (c Celeborn)
Karri: *waevz * Hae Karri: Luuk, u got tiekitz! I weel rimaembr ur aedvise, an I weel en noe wae aloew da Dwarf tu beet me. Broekn reebz? * bleenkz* Hearz a hueg fur u! ((((huegz))))))
Elven Princess-Gwenedh: I lub u tu! * Huegz*
Magical Rachel: al sez itz E Z tu diskribe seence she wuz dere whin it hapned. I weesh I wuz staen hear fur Chreestmiss, buet it wuz noet supozd tu bea dat I fael out of da moovee tu beagin wid, soe I doent sea it haepenin agin. Loeng hare hepz en a fite, u kin swaeng it aron an heet ur enamee en de eyez wid ur hare. Doe doze Orkz sumties like tu fit all gurlee an puell ur hare tu. Dat kin bea a proeblm.
Anja: I wuld lub fu u tu com liv wid us! al sez she wuld tu! bie bie! * huegs*
SarWolf Snape: I deed hav fuen! Stae tuend!
Undomiel Greenleaf: Elfz ar guud wid heestiry, mebbe I wuld bea abl tu hep. Wegeez frum Hael due huert, an skrubbin ur skeen kleen aftur u culor a suen taetuu oen ur baellibudden huertz tu! I told you not to do that, it serves you right. Weel, u deedn't hav tu uze da saend frum da saend boez, u noe! It came off, didn't it? And you call yourself a worrier. . . . .* bleenkz*
Puter Patty: Aheem eendeed! Luukz like u culd teech me alod of thangz! U goet a praesnt fur me? Hoew lublee! Thaenk u! I em glaed tu haer u wuld bie me frum Ebae-I wuldn't waent won of doze faengurlz tu git me! I thot dat wuz a seekrit? An u kald me a hubba-hubba AN a huenk of buernin lub! ?*THUD* Now PP, look what you did! He's gonna get another head injury doing all this sliding out of the chair, or a stroke from the lack of blood to his brain. Get up, Legolas! *pats Lego's face with ice cube from tea glass* Legolas??? *drops ice cube down front of Lego's BBB's* WOOOAAAAHHHH!! Okae! Okae! I em hear, I em hear!!!
IRENA: KIN U SEA DIS WAE DOEWN HEAR??? Weel u pae me fur dat pikshure? *groewlz * I hoep soe! I weesh I culd sea ur trea tu *Cofz * I hav sum hikut breefz, an it IZ eezer tu ware ur paentz wid breefz dan bokzers.
JastaElf: Hae Jasta! Hae Ada! Ada, deed u bloe agin??? U muest bea kareful, wach ur bluud praesur an all. Weel. I neu da Neeknaemz. Buet da storee dat goez eid dem iz sertunlee deeferant, tho it tu deed envolv speelage. She kald me Huenniebuen of Lub agin! * swuunz* She said you were sweet and cute too, Legolas. * faintz agin* Jasta, don't you find him a little hard to hug when he's melted all over the place like this?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OK, next chapter is coming soon, like in less than 48 hours, ok? Do it quick, it's the little button down there that SHOULD say "Give Legolas Some Love," don't you think?