Well, it's been a long time since my last entry.  Oi could prob'ly write a whole book on all that has happened, but Oi won't 'cause most of it weren't worth writin' about.  Some o' the time Oi was sick; other times it were my Mum.

What Oi will write tonight is about my cum-pen-dee-um.  Mister Frodo says Oi should tell 'bout my love of all things that grow.  I just don't know where t' start!

My Gaffer is a Master Gardener.  Hobbits from all over Hobbiton an' beyond come t' 'im wi' questions 'bout why this'un won't grow or what would make that'un bloom better.  Most of all, 'e's best known fer growin' the biggest an' bestest taters in th' Shire. 

Oi grew up learnin' ter grow things.  Mostly garden stuff, but Oi loved the flowers and shrubs better'n any garden plant.  So many colors and so many textures abound an' Oi love arrangin' them in flower gardens fer all Hobbits to see an' enjoy. 

Oi went t' work fer Mister Bilbo Baggins ter tend 'is flower gardens and grounds in exchange for 'im teachin' me my letters an' numbers.  Now my Gaffers says Oi din't need t' know 'ow ter read an' write.  'e never 'ad to an' got along quite well wi'out 'em.

Me, Oi wanted ter learn my letters as much as Oi loved to work the soil.  An' Mister Bilbo told me stories 'bout 'is adventures to Iron Mountain an' back.  'e told me 'bout the beautiful place called Rivendell where the Elves lived an' the beautiful gardens an' buildin's they created. 

Th' more 'e told me 'bout that place, th' more Oi wanted ter make the gardens of Bag End the beautiful-est place in Hobbiton.  Oi would go out an' find plants an' wild flowers from the nearby woods an' Oi would dicker wi' other gardeners, tradin' plants whenever Oi saw somethin' Oi thought Mister Bilbo would like. 

Oi was 21 years old when Mister Bilbo an' Mister Frodo 'ad that big Party in 1401.  Oi was there, and there was my cousins, Tom, Jolly, Nick an' Nibs Cotton.  Oi think it's the first time Oi really saw Rosie as somethin' besides being my only girl cousin.  She was beautiful... dancin' wi' ribbons in 'er hair....

Sorry.  Now you see why it's so 'ard for me ter write this 'ere com-pen-dee-um.  Oi always wander off th' subject.  Where was Oi?  Oh, yes!

Then Mister Bilbo said his 'good-byes' and 'POOF!' 'e disappeared!  Mister Frodo ('avin' been adopted by Mister Bilbo) became the Master of Bag End, an' although 'e is my Master, 'e treats me like a friend.  Which makes me want ter make Bag End even better than before.

Now, it's a downright shame that more hobbits don't think flowers are necessary for one's well bein.'  But Oi think a view of sweet smelling and perty flowers can do much to make one's day start better.  That an' a really good breakfast.

Oi'm gettin' ready to gather some plants that you 'ave ter plant in the Fall, so that they'll grow in the Spring an' Summer.  They need the cold of winter to make them sprout when the weather warms again.

Oi got some really interestin' things called 'bulbs' from Tobold Took.  He says 'e got them in Undertowers from a Dwarf(who would'a thought!) who told 'im they came from the North countries.  Even got a sketch o' what the flowers supposed t' look like in bloom.  Oi sure 'ope they look like th' sketch.  Oi've got a place all picked out where they'll be in the Spring sun. 

Well, it's time fer bed, so Oi must put down my quill an' ink for today.

Oi wasn't prepared fer this turn o' events.  But Mister Frodo smiled an' took Baby Carl in 'is arms while Oi 'erded th' others inside an' gathered up the stuff the Gaffer 'ad left fer takin' care o' Carl.  If Oi weren't in a bad mood before, Oi was quickly gettin' there now.

Rudy an' Rufus were quick ter find stuff in the crevices o' the tiled floor, while Poppy seemed ter be facinated wi' Mister Frodo.  Erling an' Hending decided that th' 'at tree needed ter be climbed.  Oi yelled at them ter get down, but it didn't do nothin' but scare Carl, 'oo started cryin'.

Oi'm such a sucker fer a baby in distress... Oi took 'im from Mister Frodo, thinkin' that Oi could jus' calm 'im down.  When Oi took Carl in my arms, Oi found out what might 'ave been 'is problem:  'e'd peed all over Mister Frodo's clothes!

Oi wanted ter climb in a big 'ole bout then, but seein' as Oi couldn't, Oi apologized an' offered ter clean 'is suit right away.  But Frodo laughed an' said it were bound ter 'appen sooner or later. 

"See to your charges," 'e said.  "I'll change into something more suited to being with children and we'll find something to keep them occupied while they are here."

Oi wasn't sure 'bout that, but Oi decided that th' best thing ter do would be ter feed th' rascals, so inter th' kitchen we went.  There was some nice cheese and fresh bread left over from 'aving 'ad luncheon wi' Mister Frodo, as well as a pitcher o' fresh milk.  Oi found some apple butter an' some honey, an' soon 'ad them all munchin' away.

*********

Oi 'ave ter go agin.  Now it's Mum what's callin' me.  Maybe she 'as somethin' fer my 'eadache... somethin' 'sides my Gaffer's 'ome brew, that is.

Well, it were bound t' 'appen.  I managed ter make a fool 'o m'self in front o' Rosie Cotton t'day, by fallin' in t' the Mill Pond.  But Oi suppose Oi should write down 'ow that 'appened.

My brother, Hamson an' 'is beautiful wife just 'ad their seventh baby.  A nice, bouncin' baby girl which they named Belledonna.  Oi've not seen 'er yet.  May be a while 'fore Oi can. 

Anyway, because it were a long, difficult birth this time, it was decided that their other children, my niece and nephews, were brought to our 'ole so the new Mum could rest a bit.  Now Oi know what they meant by needin' a rest.

Now Poppy is the eldest, at nine years old.  A sweeter little lass Oi've not met, but Oi do 'ope my new niece grows to be just as sweet as Poppy.  Then there are the lads:  Erling, 7, Hending, 5, the twins Rufus and Ruddy, 3, and then little Carl, who is 18 months old.

Oi was at Bag End tryin' ter work on my other writin' project with Mister Frodo's 'elp, 'avin' finished wi' my chores there.  'e suggested some time ago that Oi try ter write a book of sorts regardin' flowers an' other growin' plants.  'e said that it would be somethin' my own children an' gran' children would be able ter use ter plan a garden o' their own. 

"Perhaps," 'e said. "People who cannot afford to hire a fine gardener like yourself would be able to still have a garden by reading your instructions the subject."

But Oi was wastin' more paper than Oi was ink that day.  Nothin' sounded right an' Oi was ready ter toss the entire idea in the fireplace with all my crumpled sheets o' paper.

That's when my Gaffer banged on th' door an' tol' me that Marigold 'ad wandered off ter 'oo knew where, Mum 'ad taken ter bed wi' a 'eadache an' Oi 'ad ter watch th' kids.  'e looked plum wore out. 

Well, it's gettin' late 'ere, an' Oi still need ter clean up.  That, an Marigold is knockin' on my door wantin' me ter 'elp wi' gettin' the kids ready fer bed. 

Oi shall write some more t'morrow.

Well, didn't think it would be this long, but Mum came down ill before Oi could write what all 'appened that first ridin' lesson, an' we 'ad our 'ands full takin' care o' 'er an' keepin' up wi' all the 'elp from our friends an' neighbors an' relatives.

Now, that first lesson went quite well, if Oi do say so, myself.  It were the next day (before Miss Bennie arrived) that Mum decided that she would 'ave Gingersnap groomed an' ready fer the ridin' lesson.  Marigold 'elped 'er fasten the harness and reins on Gingersnap.  Oi helped wi' th' saddle, showin' Mum 'ow ter make sure Gingersnap wasn't 'oldin' 'er breath when tightenin' th' girth.

That done, Mum insisted on gettin' on 'er pony an' had me lead them out ter th' paddock.  Mari an' Oi watched as Mum insisted on puttin' Gingersnap through 'er paces while waitin' fer Miss Bennie. 

Mum was doin' fine wi' me in the paddock wi' 'er, keepin' an eye on Gingersnap, so Mari retired ter the 'ole ter start boilin' water fer ter wash clothes.  The Gaffer was workin' on a new batch o' 'ome brew, an Miss Bennie 'adn't arrived yet, so it were only me when things 'took off,' literally.

Oi turned my 'ead towards town, an' saw Miss Bennie ('oo was still a bit away) ridin' up the Hill on 'er pony, towards Bagshot Row.  Mum was just ridin' past me in th' paddock when Oi 'eard a 'zingin' noise go past my 'ead and all 'ell broke loose!

Gingersnap squealled an' then began ter kick, 'er back legs an' 'ooves aimed at my 'ead.  Oi managed ter duck the 'ooves, but Mum was startled and dropped th' reins.

Before Oi could grab the reins, Gingersnap began runnin' and she jumped th' paddock fence wi' Mum clingin' ter 'er mane.  That's when Oi caught sound of somethin' in th' big tree by th' paddock.  Oi caught sight o' three young lads tryin' their best ter 'ide in th' branches an' leaves.  My main thoughts were ter save my Mum, but Oi made a mental note ter take care o' them lads later.

Natur'lly, Oi began runnin' after Gingersnap, all th' while yellin' fer my Gaffer ter 'elp me catch th' pony an' save Mum.  Miss Bennie, the moment she arrived, saw Gingersnap kickin'an' knew somethin' was wrong.  When Gingersnap jumped th' fence, Miss Bennie urged 'er own pony ter chase after. 

They raced up th' side o' th' Hill, an' Oi was certain Mum and Gingersnap would be found in Over'ill 'fore we would catch that there pony!  But Miss Bennie --'oo is a very good rider fer a female-- caught up wi' them close ter th' Party Tree.  She managed ter grab th' reins an' as she slowed 'er own mount, made Gingersnap do th' same.

By th' time th' Gaffer an' me caught up ter them, Mum was sittin' on th' grass, pretty shook up.  Bennie was checkin' over Gingersnap ter see if there was anything that would explain the pony's sudden change in dis-poe-si-shun an' she gestured fer me to join 'er.  

"Sam," she asked in 'er no-nonsense manner as she pointed out a welt on Gingersnap's hindquarters.  "Did you notice anything that would have caused this?"

That's when Oi tol' 'er 'bout th' zingin' noise an' spottin' lads hidin' in th' tree.  Miss Bennie's eye's narrowed as she looked back towards th' tree. 

"Pardon me," she said as she mounted 'er pony.  "I need to take care of something quickly."

Off she an' 'er pony went like an arrow from a bow t'wards th' tree, where Oi could see th' lads climbin' down an' takin' off pell-mell across th' fields ter their own 'oles.

Th' Gaffer an' I calmed Mum and convinced 'er ter get back in th' saddle--as it were the fastest way ter get 'em back 'ome--wi' th' promise we would keep 'old o' th' reins an' lead them back 'ome.

Now that we made it 'ome, Oi kin tell ye that Miss Bennie rounded them lads up and made them return ter our 'ole, where she made 'em say they were sorry fer usin' a slingshot on Gingersnap.

What my Gaffer did ter them is what any neighbor 'round 'ere would do:  'e gave them all a good thrashin' and walked 'em all 'ome where their parents learned what 'ad 'appened. 

It was then arranged that them very same lads would be 'volunteerin' their time ter muck out all of our pony and cow stalls mornin' an' evenin' (on top o' their own 'ome chores) fer th' next month as reck-um-pence.

Miss Bennie took Gingersnap back ter 'er place ter train a bit more.  She even suggested that Mum think 'bout usin' Gingersnap more as a cart pony instead o' fer ridin'.

Oi'm not sure iffen th' fright o' this all caused Mum ter take ill, but she took ter 'er bed fer a week not long after.  She's only just begun ter do things 'round the 'ole an' even ventured out t'day wi' Mari ter town fer market.

Oi end this 'ere entry wi' a sigh.  Oi sure do 'ope Mum will think 'bout Miss Bennie's suggestion an' let 'er train Gingersnap ter pull a cart.

18 Afteryule 1405

Well, now that I am learnin' ter write like Mr. Frodo, I hope ter find more things ter write about. 

It were a couple o' weeks ago when Miss Bennie Baggins (one o' Mister Frodo's cousins) rode ter our hole, leadin' another pony.  Oi knew it were the pony my Gaffer 'ad spoken ter 'er about at th' Yule Party. 

Now, the Gaffer 'ad taken a letter wi' 'im when we went ter fetch Mum an' Marigold from 'er sister's hole in Needlehole, ever since that day, Mum was 'itchin' ter get 'er pony an' learn ter ride like a real lady.

Now, Marigold an' Mum were jumpin' up an' down when they realized that it were Miss Bennie knockin' on our door.

"Oh, Miss Bennie!  She be so bee-u-tee-ful!" Mum squealed when she saw that there pony tethered ter the gate post.  "Oi think Oi'll call 'er Gingersnap!" 

The name seemed a good match as the filly was th' color o' one o' Mum's baked ginger cookies.

"Oh, Oi do 'ope she's broke in good!"  Marigold whispered ter me while eyein' the pony.  "Oi don' think Oi want ter 'ave ter call on th' healer if either o' us be tossed off its back!"

I nodded, thinkin' that maybe my Gaffer 'ad made a mistake in gettin' Mum a ridin' pony, specially seein' as Mum's 'ealth aint all that good, an' the pony looked rather young.  But the look o' joy on Mum's face was all th' Gaffer needed ter believe 'e'd done the right thing.

Now Miss Bennie, she said that she 'ad worked wi' this par-tic-yule-er pony an' that it was the best one she 'ad raised an' was welled suited fer Mum's needs.

We spent th' afternoon wi' Miss Bennie showin' Mum an' Marigold 'ow ter saddle Gingersnap and then 'ow ter get up in that there fancy side saddle what come wi' the pony. 

Then th' ridin' lessons began.  It be a good thing that Miss Bennie 'ad a lot o' patience that day, as first Mum, then Marigold 'ad ter try their 'and at ridin' Gingersnap.  I think they plum wore out both Miss Bennie an' Gingersnap!

Well, it be late now, an' I sit 'ere more'n half asleep from all th' day's doin's.  I shall 'ave ter finish this tale later.

Well, 'ere it is, past time ter write in this 'ere journal.  Oi've already managed to fergit my re-so-loo-shun!  Ain't been much ter talk 'bout, unless ye count Miss Mundee an' Sally tryin' ter teach me more 'bout my letters an' such.

"Sam," Miss Mundee said t' me just this mornin'.  "You need to do more than just write down your words the way they sound.  Try to memorize how the words are spelled."

"Spelled?" I asked back.  "What's spellin' got t' do wi' it?"

That's when Sally spoke up.  "Why, Sam, if I have to read it the way you write it, I'd be lost."  She pointed to a sentence Oi'd written and read it out loud.  "Oi went ter th' butcher fer t' get some vick-too-alls fer me Mum ter fix fer supper."

Oi nodded while rubbing my belly.  "An' they was was good, too!"

Miss Mundee (Oi know) was tryin' not ter laugh aloud. "Sounds just like you, Sam.  But not everyone who can read and write would understand it because they don't talk just like you."

Oi wasn't sure Oi follered 'er on that comment, an' it must 'ave shown 'cause Miss Mundee continued.  "Do you think Frodo would understand what you've written, Sam?"

Oi nodded.  "Oi know 'e does, Miss Mundee!  'e's 'elpin' me wi' my book 'bout gardenin'!  Oi tells 'im what ter write an' 'e writes it down!"

Sally looked at me sideways.  "And Mister Frodo's writing looks exactly as you spoke it?"

"Oi... Oi don' know...," an' that was th' truth.  Oi assumed that Mister Frodo 'ad written it as Oi'd spoken it.

So that's 'ow Oi got started on writin' things down so's others could read it an' understand it.  As Oi, um, I write from now on, it will 'ave more of th' 'proper' spellin' an' not so much like th' 'country bumpkin speech' that Miss Sally called my writin'.

Now, Mister Bilbo, 'e taught me my letters in exchange for 'elpin' out 'round Bag End, an' Oi kin read fairly well, but don't cotton ter a lot o' fancy words when plain ones will do just fine.  But Oi understand Miss Mundee's point an' Oi'll be workin' ter better my writin' speech just a tad in my future journal entries.

What is it 'bout makin' res-oh-looshuns at th' beginnin' of a new year?  Why does ever'body ye meet want ter know if yer a-doin' a res-oh-loo-shun?

Oi was returnin' Miss Bennie's half-growed dog ter 'er place after findin' Mister Frodo nearly layin' in th' snow tryin' ter rescue a stray kitten.

Miss Bennie was 'appy Oi found 'er dog, sayin' 'e musta jumped outta one o' th' stable winders or found a stall door open. 

Either way, Oi took th' liberty ter chastise 'er fer 'er dog's wanderin'.  "It ain't good," Oi told 'er.  "Y' best be 'appy that it were Mister Frodo what found 'im an' not one o' th' farmers between yer 'ole an' Bag End!  They doesn't cotton well ter stray dogs messin' wi' their animals, if ye know what Oi mean."

She said she did, and promised ter keep a proper eye on 'er animals in th' future.  Then she changed th' subject an' asked me if Oi'd made a res-oh-loo-shun fer th' New Year. 

Oi didn't know what ter tell 'er, so Oi made th' excuse that Oi 'ad ter get back ter Bag End, an' Oi 'ightailed it away from 'er place. 

Makin' res-oh-loo-shuns can be 'ard at best ter make, an' even 'arder ter keep.  Oi learned years before never let others know what Oi was gonna do 'cause if Oi failed, Oi would never 'ear th' end o' it!  An' it never mattered if th' one doin' th' teasin' 'ad broken 'is res-oh-loo-shun!

Res-oh-loo-shuns should be private.  Like a prayer to the Creator -- just betwixt you an' 'im. 

But this 'ere is supposed ter be my private thoughts, so Oi suppose Oi am safe ter write down what Oi hopes ter promise an' keep ter it:

1)  Oi ree-solves ter be up earlier each day an' ready ter work at Bag End a-fore Mister Frodo gets up every day.

2) Oi ree-solves ter be more polite when dealin' wi' th' young ladies an' their Mothers when they comes a-callin' on Mister Frodo. 

3) Oi resolves ter learn ter read an' write more like Mister Frodo does, so's Oi don't look so 'quaint' as Missus Lavender calls my attempts 'ere.  Oi think Oi'll ask Miss Mundee if she can 'elp me wi' that, seein' as she's teachin' some o' th' Tinker kids (and th' poorer kids in town)ter read an' write.

4) Last, Oi promise ter keep up wi' this 'ere journal on a more regular basis.  Oi knows Mister Frodo will be askin' me 'bout that a lot, seein' as 'e's got one, too.

5) Oi resolves not ter share these res-oh-loo-shuns wi' just anybody.

Tomorrow, Oi'll be travelin' with my Gaffer ter Frogmorton ter look at some flower seeds and maybe some garden seeds, too.  Oi'm bound ter learn 'ow to barter better by watchin' 'ow Da does it.

Well, it's a new day an' my 'ead is much clearer now.  Now where was Oi?  Oh, yeah.

Well, we spent th' night wi' Farmer Stoutfoot an' family whilst th'snow storm spent itself.  We woke ter a clear sky and bone chillin' cold.  But we could see our way now, an' after a 'earty breakfast, the Gaffer an' Oi set out with th' wagon for Needlehole. 

It were still 'ard work, seein' as th' roads were covered in snow, but it weren't so deep that we couldn't get through.  Just took longer than we ever planned it ter be.

Anyway, we got there 'bout noon, an' were greeted by Marigold 'oo fergot 'er wrap to run out to meet us as we turned th' ponies off th' road an' up the path ter My Aunt's 'ole.

"Mercy sakes!" she was saying as she jumped up an' down (more from th' cold than 'appiness, Oi think).  "We thought you weren't comin' 'cause o' th' storm!"

Oi tossed my cloak on 'er an' sent 'er back ter the 'ole wi' a couple o' th' baskets we brought, an' as soon as we 'ad Bonnie and Cobb set up in th' barn, we brought in th' rest wi' us.

It were good ter see my Aunt up an' about (seein' as we'd been told she were bad off worse than even Mum 'ad been just a week earlier wi' th' sickness),  givin' orders ter 'er family as if nothin' 'ad ever been wrong wi' 'er.

Teddie, 'er eldest son, slapped me on th' back, jokin' an' 'intin' that we must 'ave 'ad some of th' Gaffer's 'ome brew, seein' as that's th' only way 'e could figger we coulda survived that mess outside.

Well, as we 'ad planned, we brought lots of things that we knew would make my Aunt an' Mum smile.  Some loverly knitted foot warmers made by Miss Mundee fer My Aunt ter keep 'er feet warm by th' fire, an' a new clay pipe fer my Uncle.  Th' boys all got new braces ter 'old up their britches, while all th' girls got bonnets (Miss Sally, when she learnt of our trip, gathered up all the bonnets 'er younger sisters couldn't wear an' fixed and embroidered 'em all up fancy ter give 'em). 

Then it were my Mum's turn.  Th' Gaffer 'anded her a fancy envelope sealed wi' a fancy wax seal.  From the look she gave Da, she weren't sure what it were 'e were givin' 'er.  When she opened it, it were a letter, but th' only one there what could read it were me an' Mari.

Oi knew what it were about, so Oi let Mari read it aloud.

'Dear Missus Gamgee,

I am writing you this letter to let you know that arrangements have been made with your husband, Hamfast Gamgee, for the purchase of a pony to be delivered to your hole at your convenience upon your arrival back in Hobbiton.

I trust that you will thoroughly enjoy your new filly, Aster.  Should you find any reason that Aster is not to your liking, simply come by Fanciful Farms and I will personally help you choose a pony more to your liking.

I await your reply.

                                                Sincerely yours,

                                                Miss Bennie Baggins'

********

My Mum burst inta tears, an' Oi knowed that the Gaffer 'ad fulfilled my Mum's fondest wish of a pony of 'er very own.  Mari 'anded me 'er 'anky as Oi 'ad ter wipe my face.  Dernd dust in my eyes...

Let me tell ye, we 'ad a wonderful Yule there, an' there were dancin' and singin' an' you would-a thunk th' 'ole town o' Needlehole were there to 'elp us celebrate.

Well, we are leavin' on th' morrow fer 'ome.  With 'er Sister well agin, Mum is eager ter get 'er pony an' learn ter ride 'er 'like a Lady' she says.  Oi can't wait ter see 'er do it!

Well, my Gaffer an' Oi made it ter my Aunt's hole in Needlehole, but not without some trouble along the way. 

What a time we 'ad tryin' t' get there!  We left before First Breakfast, in order ter make what would normally take me 'bout four 'ours ter ride my pony ter my Aunt's hole in Needlehole.  But it turned in ter an all-day fight struggle ter get through th' snow! 

Yes, ye 'eared me right.  SNOW!

We no sooner got goin' in th' wagon, when th' Gaffer started complainin' that 'is joints were achin' 'im somethin' terrible.  "Mark my word, my boy," he was moanin.' "We're in fer another bad un, we are!"  ('A bad un' is the Gaffer's word for bad weather)

Sure 'nough, within th' first hour th' wind started pickin' up to th' point we 'ad ter stop an' cover up an' tie down th' presents in th' wagon ter keep 'em from blowin' away.  Then we got out our 'eavier coats an' found our caps an' mittens, too.  Good thing we remembered 'em, 'cause th' temperature was droppin', too.

We no sooner got back on our way when it started ter rain.  Not a bad rain, but just enough ter make it miserable, what wi' th' wind an' all. 

Then, ter make matters worse, it began ter snow!  A little at first, then th' little flakes ganged up an' became BIG, wet flakes and then more an' more that by th' time we got ter the crossroads ter go North to Nobottle, we could barely see our way! 

Oi don't ever recall seein' snow like this in all my young years in th' Shire!  In fact, we had ter backtrack to make sure we were still on th' road!  That ain't no easy thing turnin' 'round a wagon on a narrow country road that's built up on either side 'cause there be a bog nearby. 

Bonnie and ol' Cobb, our ponies, didn't like th' snow (which by this point were now drifted nearly up ter my knees in places) an' they balked at backin' up.  In fact, we learned that th' edge o' th' road was closer than we thought... an' the back wheel on the right side slipped off an' down went th' wagon... an' all th' present's went a-tumblin' off inter th' snow bank!

Well, it took us quite a while ter get Bonnie an' Cobb ter cooperate, an' we finally got th' wagon free'd and back on th' road (but not wi'out a bit o' cursin' the weather or the pickle we were in, I must confess). 

We were still tryin' ter strap things back down when one of the local farmers an' 'is sons came our way.  They were on us a-fore we know'd they was there -- it were snowin' that 'ard still!

"Ye two are near't frozen ter death," he says ter us.  "My Missus can put on a kettle an' we'll be glad ter put ye up fer the night.  Yer not a-goin' ter make it ter Nobottle or beyon' till this 'ere storm stops!"

Well, it didn't take me long to agree, but the Gaffer was another story.  It took me takin' th' reins from 'im an' leadin' th' ponies while followin' th' farmer back ter 'is farm, which we musta passed when we missed our turn in th' road.

Anyway, Farmer Stoutfoot an' 'is Missus were very kind.  She put water on ter boil th' minute 'er boys come in sayin', 'Dah 'ad found some hobbits lost in th' storm.'

A nice bath fer both o' us while Farmer Stoutfoot an' 'is sons took care o' our wagon an' the ponies, then a 'earty meal wi' th' family (10 strappin' boys!), an' then some pipeweed by the fireplace a-fore we were led ter their guest room ter spend th' night.

Amazin'ly, we both slept 'ard (in spite o' th' fact that my Gaffer snores an' 'e says Oi walk an' talk in my sleep).  We woke th' next mornin' ter clear skies an' another 'earty meal.

Oi'm tired right now, an' I 'ave ter join the others fer lightin' the Yule Log before I go ter bed.  Oi'll have ter finish my tale tomorrow or th' next day.

Well, it be Yuletide 'ere in the Shire.  Oi'm still restin' up from the party at Mister Frodo's place. 

Let me tell you that that young Miss Sally what works for Miss Mundee is one great cook!  She'll make some hobbit lad a worthy wife when she's old enough.  Why, Oi never seen so much food done up by one person in such a short time, an' Oi come from a large family.  There weren't a one ter go hungry that day an' there were lots of leftover goodies fer us all t' carry home when we left!

Oi 'ave ter say that Oi were a might bit concerned 'bout Mister Frodo invitin' both 'is cousins, Miss Mundee an' Miss Bennie, but fer th' most part, they behaved themselves.  Miss Mundee, 'ad more patience with Miss Bennie's antics than any gell Oi've 'ad th' privilege o' knowin'.

Now, Oi don' know what they were doin' at the dinner table wi' Mister Frodo, but Oi noticed 'is face turn red more than once, an' 'e pert near choked on 'is wine, when Miss Bennie whispered somethin' in 'is ear.  Miss Mundee musta 'eard it, too, as she managed ter spill gravy in Miss Bennie's cup as she were passin' the gravy boat.

An' leave it t' Frodo's cousin's Fatty an' Folco ter get sloshed on my Gaffer's home brew an' make fools o' themselves wi' Miss Sparrow Singswell!  Tellin' 'er they loved 'er an' demandin' a kiss under a wee bit o' mistletoe the brung wi' them!

Oi must say Oi'm impressed wi' Miss Singswell's ability ter avoid trouble.  As they try'd ter pounce 'er for a kiss, she backed away just in th' nick o' time an' Fatty an' Folco kissed an' hugged each other!  That were definitely a fine sight ter see!

When it were time ter go 'ome, my Gaffer an' Oi escorted Miss Mundee an' Miss Sally back ter their 'ole next ter our own, an' Miss Mundee gave us both knitted scarfs and mittens!  Nothin' like my Ma makes.  Oi'm not meanin' anythin' wrong, but Ma never used all them fancy stitches like Mundee does).   An' they's made of soft wool, t' boot!  My Gaffer was tickled pink an' 'e's made a point ter wear it pert near all the time.

Well, the Gaffer an' me are goin' ter 'ead up ter my Ma's Sister's home (where she an' Marigold been 'elpin' with carin' fer 'er Sister what's down with illness)  ter spend Yule wi' th' family. 

Ma's not been feelin' too good 'erself an' the Gaffer's kinda worriedt 'bout 'er.  Per'aps it might be Ma's last Yuletide wi' us, so's we're gonna make sure it's a good time fer 'er an' 'er Sister.