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piosenniel · 03-16-2003, 04:27 AM

'Well, that's the last one.' Amaranthas put down her watering can and plucked a fat, blue hydrangea blossom for her hat. She had gotten up early and hitched Thistle to the long unused cart, planning to go down to the Inn to see Cook. Miz Rose and the children would be paying her a visit tomorrow evening, and she wanted to make sure she had some of Cook's famous jam tarts to serve them.

Thistle twitched his ears as the old Hobbit climbed into the cart, and spoke to him. ‘Let’s get on down the road, old man. I want to be to the Dragon and back before the sun gets too high in the sky. I’d just as soon be under the shade of the oak tree in the back yard than rolling down the dusty road in the noon heat.’ She flicked the reins lightly as she spoke, sending the pony in motion.

There were many Hobbits out and about on early morning business as she turned the cart down Hill Lane to Bywater Road. They stopped and stared, their mouths gaping at this unusual sight. Amaranthas in her pony cart, a bright blue flower stuck gaily in her straw hat, waving as she passed them, a smile on her face. ‘She’s gone mad in her old age,’ they would later say to their families and neighbors. ‘She hasn’t been out in that old cart for years, and there she was sitting like some Queen on her way to an important meeting, smiling and waving as she passed.’

Amaranthas cackled to herself as she passed by each group of staring Hobbits. ‘Keeps ‘em on their toes, don’t it?’ she cried to Thistle. ‘Thick-headed louts need a little twist in their routine, don’t they?’ Plump little Thistle, if he could be said to think at all about what she said, was probably grieving, even now, at the fact he was having to put out this much energy and effort so early in the morning.

*******************************

Hob saw her as she pulled into the Inn yard, and ran to bring the pony near the kitchen door. ‘That’s a good lad,’ she said to him, as he helped her from the cart. He escorted her to the door and ushered her into the cool interior of the kitchen, then went to take care of Thistle.

‘Miz Amaranthas, what brings you here to the Inn?’ Cook came up, wiping her floury hands on her apron and had the old Hobbit sit down at the table. ‘Buttercup, bring her a cup of tea and a fresh scone. If you don’t mind Miz Amaranthas, I’m just going to finish my berry pies for the day and set them to baking. Then I’ll join you.’

Amaranthas sat quietly, enjoying her snack, watching Cook roll out the pastry dough and fit it into fluted pans, fill it with heaping portions of blackberries and huckleberries, and set a pastry top on it, marked with a wheat stalk pattern. Prim had come in, her early morning duties seen to and sat down with the Old Hobbit. Cook, her pies now slid into the ovens, also joined them.

The trio soon fell to gossiping, with Prim and Cook filling Amaranthas in on all that had transpired yesterday. She was aghast at the behavior of the young Hobbits. ‘And you say Miz Pio has left? Will she back tomorrow, do you know?’ Prim and Cook looked at one another. Prim spoke up, ‘I don’t think so. She means to stay out of this whole mess until it’s blown over.’ Amaranthas tapped her fingers on the table, impatiently. ‘I was hoping she would come to the party.’

‘Party?’ asked Cook. Amaranthas explained Bilbo’s request to her and the plans he had made for the party of his own. ‘That brings me round to why I’ve come. I wanted to get some of those delicious little jam tarts you make to serve when Miz Rose and the children come.’ ‘Done!’ said Cook. ‘In fact I’ll do you one better. Don’t you worry at all about what to serve them. Let me and the girls fix it up and we’ll send it up to you with Hob. Crisp fried chicken, I’m thinking. And tater salad. Corn on the cob, dripping with butter. A few loaves of crusty bread, and a jar of Gammer Nutmeg’s honey.’

‘No trouble at all,’ said Prim, as Amaranthas protested that would be too much for them to do. ‘You get some of the boys who live around you to help set up some tables in your backyard, and let us bring the meal and all the fixin’s to you. Enjoy the party and don’t wear yourself out getting ready for it.’

A few more bits and pieces of gossip were exchanged. Amaranthas thanked them for their offer, saying she would see Hob then, early tomorrow evening. She climbed back on board her cart, and with a cluck of her tongue, they were off home.

[ March 16, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

03-16-2003, 04:27 AM	#210
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	'Well, that's the last one.' Amaranthas put down her watering can and plucked a fat, blue hydrangea blossom for her hat. She had gotten up early and hitched Thistle to the long unused cart, planning to go down to the Inn to see Cook. Miz Rose and the children would be paying her a visit tomorrow evening, and she wanted to make sure she had some of Cook's famous jam tarts to serve them. Thistle twitched his ears as the old Hobbit climbed into the cart, and spoke to him. ‘Let’s get on down the road, old man. I want to be to the Dragon and back before the sun gets too high in the sky. I’d just as soon be under the shade of the oak tree in the back yard than rolling down the dusty road in the noon heat.’ She flicked the reins lightly as she spoke, sending the pony in motion. There were many Hobbits out and about on early morning business as she turned the cart down Hill Lane to Bywater Road. They stopped and stared, their mouths gaping at this unusual sight. Amaranthas in her pony cart, a bright blue flower stuck gaily in her straw hat, waving as she passed them, a smile on her face. ‘She’s gone mad in her old age,’ they would later say to their families and neighbors. ‘She hasn’t been out in that old cart for years, and there she was sitting like some Queen on her way to an important meeting, smiling and waving as she passed.’ Amaranthas cackled to herself as she passed by each group of staring Hobbits. ‘Keeps ‘em on their toes, don’t it?’ she cried to Thistle. ‘Thick-headed louts need a little twist in their routine, don’t they?’ Plump little Thistle, if he could be said to think at all about what she said, was probably grieving, even now, at the fact he was having to put out this much energy and effort so early in the morning. ******************************* Hob saw her as she pulled into the Inn yard, and ran to bring the pony near the kitchen door. ‘That’s a good lad,’ she said to him, as he helped her from the cart. He escorted her to the door and ushered her into the cool interior of the kitchen, then went to take care of Thistle. ‘Miz Amaranthas, what brings you here to the Inn?’ Cook came up, wiping her floury hands on her apron and had the old Hobbit sit down at the table. ‘Buttercup, bring her a cup of tea and a fresh scone. If you don’t mind Miz Amaranthas, I’m just going to finish my berry pies for the day and set them to baking. Then I’ll join you.’ Amaranthas sat quietly, enjoying her snack, watching Cook roll out the pastry dough and fit it into fluted pans, fill it with heaping portions of blackberries and huckleberries, and set a pastry top on it, marked with a wheat stalk pattern. Prim had come in, her early morning duties seen to and sat down with the Old Hobbit. Cook, her pies now slid into the ovens, also joined them. The trio soon fell to gossiping, with Prim and Cook filling Amaranthas in on all that had transpired yesterday. She was aghast at the behavior of the young Hobbits. ‘And you say Miz Pio has left? Will she back tomorrow, do you know?’ Prim and Cook looked at one another. Prim spoke up, ‘I don’t think so. She means to stay out of this whole mess until it’s blown over.’ Amaranthas tapped her fingers on the table, impatiently. ‘I was hoping she would come to the party.’ ‘Party?’ asked Cook. Amaranthas explained Bilbo’s request to her and the plans he had made for the party of his own. ‘That brings me round to why I’ve come. I wanted to get some of those delicious little jam tarts you make to serve when Miz Rose and the children come.’ ‘Done!’ said Cook. ‘In fact I’ll do you one better. Don’t you worry at all about what to serve them. Let me and the girls fix it up and we’ll send it up to you with Hob. Crisp fried chicken, I’m thinking. And tater salad. Corn on the cob, dripping with butter. A few loaves of crusty bread, and a jar of Gammer Nutmeg’s honey.’ ‘No trouble at all,’ said Prim, as Amaranthas protested that would be too much for them to do. ‘You get some of the boys who live around you to help set up some tables in your backyard, and let us bring the meal and all the fixin’s to you. Enjoy the party and don’t wear yourself out getting ready for it.’ A few more bits and pieces of gossip were exchanged. Amaranthas thanked them for their offer, saying she would see Hob then, early tomorrow evening. She climbed back on board her cart, and with a cluck of her tongue, they were off home. [ March 16, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.