Odofur Oldbuck felt it had been a fine spring so far. The family fields were celebrating with rows of bright green sprouts. Carrots, corn, beans, lettuce, potatoes and onions would grace his table. The apple orchard was in flower. The cows would calve and the sheep would bear both wool and lambs.
He, his two sons Merioc and Derioc, along with their wives and young children had built a prosperous hobbit farm between the Stock to Rushy road and the west banks of the Baranduin. There would be a fair surplus to trade at market for fabric, stone, and finished goods. Odofur’s plans to expand the house would proceed apace.
It was a fine house as it stood. Built of fine Shire brick with a thatched roof, it commanded an enviable view of his farmland to the east and the woods on the east side of the Baranduin.
Odofur admired all that but was more fixated on his garden, or rather his wife Delfina’s garden which girdled the house with roses, hydrangeas, lilies and tulips along stone walking paths. The paths lead away from the house ending at a large open lawn with comfortable benches and a small pond. It was a perfect place to smoke some Longbottom leaf from a fine clay pipe.
“Odofur Oldbuck!”
It appeared that pipe would have to wait. It was his cousin Primadoc, Thain of the Shire. Odofur felt that Primadoc had become inflated and tiresome over his Thainship. It was after all largely a ceremonial role, presiding at festivals, resolving the occasional dispute, encouraging commerce and sharing information.
“What brings the Thain to my humble farm”
“Do not seek to mock me, fair cousin. I come with news. You are chosen as Master for the summer festival. A great honor. You have much to do. Good Luck!”
“But…”
Primadoc bustled back down the lane towards the road to Stock. A quick wave and he was round the bend.
Odofur spluttered a bit, face reddening. Master was a big job. Much was expected. He would have little time to tend to his own business and the pursuit of Longbottoms’s finest pipe weed.
To make the Master whole for this inconvenience, a past Thain had decreed the market tithe. All those participating in the festival would make a donation to the Master’s fund should he sustain losses in the completion of his job.
Odofur in fact was quite pleased with the designation to which he considered himself an exemplary qualified choice. A well run festival benefited all in the East Farthing, himself included. He would show them a turn or two.
But that was days off and Odofur had plans for the ‘morrow. A bit of adventure. Over the water and into the woods and back the same day.