The days keep passing as pleasant as you like, and I will not complain for it! I know we're in the belly of winter still, but I can already seen the sun peeking over the trees a wee bit later each day, and it reminds me that spring will come again. And that thought gives me such hope, more even than I deserve.
Let's see now, where did I leave off last time?
I've learned that the dwarf what seemed to be so bothersome to Master Tumunir in Bree is named Master Brumirr, and I don't need to be worried about him. At least I don't think I do. Sometimes Master Tumunir seems terrified about his past life, and I don't know enough about what happened or who did it, so I'm looking everywhere and ready to smack everyone. But he told me a lot about Master Brumirr and he seems to be all right with his old friend showing up again.
I've left the mittens and scarf for Miss Finchley on her bed. I hope she likes them! I added a little pile of cinnamon-apple muffins wrapped in a cloth, since she's always out and about and never seems to eat enough.
Mister Darrell gave me a terrible turn last night, creeping up on me while I were humming and dancing by the fire. Not proper dancing, of course, as I don't know any real steps other than what I think I remember seeing other folk do. Ma would take me to the village hall once in a while when I were little, to watch the ladies and gentlemen circle and weave about. The way their feet would hit the floor in perfect time with the fiddle and the flute seemed so graceful and magical! Just thinking about how clumsy I must've looked to Mister Darrell is making my face go red all over again. He were awful polite and nice about it, and said he'd like me to keep singing the song. But then he looked like maybe he thought it were rude to ask it, and he walked off quick again. I wanted to sing it since I thought it might please him, but then Master Tumunir popped in the door, so that were that!
I haven't seen hide nor hair of Mister Haint, the odd blindfolded fellow what slept on the floor. I guess he wandered off like he said he might do. I hope he didn't fall into more trouble, poor soul.
And then this morning, a new mystery at my doorstep! Two boxes with plants inside, and an unsigned note. I don't recognize the hand at all. The paper looks old and rumpled. Are they flowers? I suppose we won't know till spring. Who would give me such a kind gift and not leave their name? It's eating at me like a midge buzzing in my ear! But unless the person reveals themselves, I have no way of knowing. It still warms my heart, right down to the very bottom. I hope I get a chance to know who it was someday, so I can thank them. I've brought the boxes inside and I'll keep them by the window until they decide to bloom and show me what they are!
P.S. I miss Master Maurr...
