I have become pitiful lazy with keeping this diary up to date! Even now I can hardly peel my eyelids open to write. Shall I blame it on the Yule season, and all the bustle what comes with it? That sounds good to me!
Miss Kithri's Yule party was today, and holy stars, was it something! Packed with guests, positively overflowing with hobbits (most of whom got on stage and played the most delightful songs!). I'm not sure why I keep thinking that I should attend such parties, when almost as soon as I get to one, I feel small and awkward and like I'd rather become a piece of furniture what can just watch and listen without having to act like she knows how to be proper.
There were too many faces to recall, some I recognized, but a lot that I didn't. Mister Aeruthuil of course, lurked away under a tree by himself for a while. I kept him company for a bit while the music were playing and folk were dancing and making all sorts of merry. How I wish I could dance, too! I suppose that swaying about counts as dancing in a way, but it's not the same thing. One day, maybe. It remains on my List. Maybe now that my leg isn't to be hacked off and it's just the same old achy pain what I can live with, I could learn to dance proper.
A curious sort of man approached me at the party. His hair were a color what made me think of the folk that come from the south sometimes. But he said he were from another place altogether. He said his name were "Hound Friend". Now, I don't know much about the way other places name their children, but I can't picture a mother looking at her new bairn and saying "this child will be a friend to the dogs!" Maybe his name were some kind of code. Gods know folk have been showing up and giving false names left and right lately.
Back on track, Taite.
Mister "Hound Friend" were a right pleasant fellow, despite his odd name. He were interested in blankets for his kin, as they had traveled from their homeland without being prepared for winter, I think is what he said. He said he'd be willing to trade yarn for blankets, and that's fine with me! The Boarding House has been doing so well, I've pulled out a cot or two since the beds are all claimed. I'm not hurting for copper right now, and I don't mean to sound like a braggart about it. I'm thankful - so thankful - for all that's been blessed to me. I'd fill the house with twenty beds if I could, so no one would have to sleep in the rain or the cold, and wouldn't charge them anything but an honest day's work. Of course, I know the world doesn't exactly work that way, but if we can help a down-and-out soul, then we ought to.
Speaking of, a stranger showed up this evening. Mister "Darrell" he called himself, but he admitted at the start that it wasn't his true name (see what I mean??). His clothes looked a little "all over the place", as Ma would say, and he were carrying a big parcel with him. I guess it's whatever belongings he has, I didn't ask. I told him we had no beds left, but I could sort out a cot if he were willing. He came in for a cup of tea while we talked it over, and by the end, he said it were the most hospitable and pleasant house he'd been in since he could remember. I weren't expecting that at all, but then he talked about how he were used to being on ships at sea, with three men crammed together in each bunk. I told him I'd never seen a ship or been anywhere near the sea, and without even asking, he started telling me about what it was like. I've never heard anyone talk so! I could almost feel a ship under me, tilting back and forth on the blue-green water. I know my imagination is probably nothing like what it would really be, but now I think I might add this to my List. "To visit the sea." I can't wait to speak to him again, as there's nothing I love more than tales about places afar off.
I should work a bit more on the blankets for Mister Leoffrith, but I don't think I can keep my eyes open much longer. Tomorrow then!
