Dear Diary,
These last few days I can't concentrate, I keep thinking about him and the things we talked about. His journeys beyond the Shire, his adventures. I have never wanted to go beyond the bounds before, but now, now I know there is a world beyond.
How can I not want to see it, to experience and learn?
How can I leave?
Popsy is still so young and I have the Farm to manage.
Today is a frustrating day
Additional! it isnt often I add to you after I have written, but this is an exception.
Trumble our farmhand, I'm sure I've mentioned him before, he was the one that slipped from the tater store roof into the rain barrel last autumn. Anyway, I digress, Trumble brought me a package. Packages aren't unusual here at the farm, but they aren't usually addressed to me all personal like, and this one was half as tall as me.
I must admit I was shaking when I opened it. Inside the box safefly nestled in packaging straw was the most strange thing, a lute. Tucked into the strings of the lute was a letter addressed to me! {---slipped into the pages an envelope on looking inside you read---}
Mae Govannen Bouteloua,
This is one of the greetings my people use, it means Well Met!
During our coversation the other day you mentioned that this is the year you come of age.
You were kind enough to share a meal with a stranger in exchange for a story.
You have a rare gift, you listen. To hear is not the same thing.
Due to the kindness you have shown to me I wanted to attempt to repay my debt.
You have done far more than you realise with such a simple act.
This brings me to my first gift.
This lute is so you will always have music.
Music is a powerful tool, it can encourage as you have found with the field songs.
Or it can demoralise, a beautiful lament can bring the hardest hearted of men to tears.
This brings me to my second gift.
I have included a book of tutorship for you to learn to play the lute.
A musical instrument unplayed is like a child unloved.
As we enjoyed our meal together you spoke of not having anything to do,
beyond the day to day working on the farm.
You sat wide eyed as I spoke of places far away and of times long ago.
Yet little do you know of your own land, your own people.
My third gift is also a responsibility.
It is a blank journal for you to record daily life.
Speak with the elder Perian - Hobbits.
They carry the past.
Speak with the farm hands and the hunters.
They carry the present.
Speak with the children
They will carry the future.
Record the songs you hear.
Farad Vaer - Good Hunting
Carlyon
{----returning to the diary-----}
I don't know what he means by him repaying a debt. I now feel like I have a debt to owe. I shall visit Gammer Took tomorrow and ask her about songs.
Today is a confusing day
