What a day it has been
With our close friends and kin
When they all came ter welcome yer here
And the times have been good
Filled with laughter and food
And this song whispered soft in yer ear
So there I was, the proud owner of a burrow in Bramblebury. It was just as cozy as my temporary home in Pinewarrens and with an equally stunning view of the Homestead. The people who live in Bramblebury are, no exception, most kind and friendly. And they all have known my mother Yola, ofcourse. They tell me stories about her and tell me how much I look like her. It always makes me feel both good and sad when they say that.
Finding my Uncle Peppy was the best that happened to me after hearing that Pa and Ma were not my real parents. The worst thing was, finding out that my real mother, Yola Plumblossom, was no longer alive. Just as bad was, that I could not find a single trace of my real father.
Waking up in a unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar guest bedroom, with the smell of an extensive hobbit breakfast being prepared in the background, it took me some moments to realize where I was. Slowly it all dawned to me again: I had met Yola's brother, Peppy, in Bramblebury. It was the best find in my search so far.
Bramblebury, a lovely and friendly neighbourhood, is special in many ways. They even have their own newspaper! Yet, when I first visited, I was not feeling comfortable or at ease at all. My first visit started with another disappointment: Someone else lived in my mother Yola's house. Where was I to look now? But then I met someone who changed everything for me.
It was evening when I rode to Waymeet and there turned south, onto the road to the South Farthing Homesteads. I was grieving the loss of my real mother, Yola Plumblossom. O, how I wished I could have known her! But that was not going to happen.