Marigold
Four drabbles about Marigold Gamgee and her contributions to the family. The first drabble was inspired by Sandy K's story, "Good Tilled Earth".

Thank you Llinos for the beta and for teaching me Marigold’s song: )

"My garden is now run wild..." sang the lass, intent on her task. On the table were heaps of seeds, gleaned from the gardens by her brother and father which she sorted expertly. "The lily and pink I overlooked..." Marigold took up a paper on which she had painted a delicate violet, and counting out two dozen seeds, sealed it with a practised twist.

"In June comes the rose so red..." The twist of paper went into the pile for the market. The Gamgee's seeds were prized, the extra money hers. Still humming, she swept the packets into her apron.

Marigold sealed the last jar of blackberry jam and wiped her hands with a satisfied sigh. The berries of the early harvest were hers; the later harvest her da claimed for his home brew and that was fine. Their gardens dripped with luscious fruit. Marigold won a prize at the fair every year and every year the gaffer would say it was his berries, she would say it was her skill, and Sam would insist it was a joint effort.

Jars for the fair, the family, Mr Frodo and to sell at market. All in all, a good days work!

On Mondays and Thursdays, after the breakfast dishes, Marigold and Sam walked together to Bag End. Marigold claimed the kitchen as her own on those mornings and did Mr Frodo's baking as her sister May had done before marrying. Breads, buns, tarts, cakes, pies and puddings; their mother had taught her children well.

The last Thursday of every month Mr Frodo would appear in the kitchen with her pay, she would curtsey and accept his invitation to stay for elevenses. Sam would join them, and afterward Marigold would go home and proudly add the coins to the big earthen jar.

The coin Marigold earned by selling her jam and baking for the master belonged to the family, but the seed money was hers alone. She made most of the gifts she gave on her birthday but there were still materials to purchase and by lucky chance the seeds were ready at the perfect time of year.

This year she traded three packets to Mr Boffin for a pipe for her da, selling the rest to buy cloth, lace and thread, paints and paper and a blue silk ribbon, to tie around the bouquet she would place on her mother's grave.

End