Itís hard to believe my coming of age is finally here. Dear Uncle Bilbo will be 111 years old yet he seems not over 50. Iím looking forward to the day. Gandalf has not yet arrived but I imagine heíll be here before the party unless something has happened to keep him away.
Fortunately, not much is expected of me so Iíll be able to spend the day as I please. To the consternation of many, which I secretly enjoy, I think Iíll do a bit of wandering today. I love the smell of the Shire in fall. Itís such a beautiful, sunny day. We wonít have many more of these this year. I had planned on taking one of Uncle Bilboís elvish books with me but I fear it would require more concentration than Iím capable of at the moment. Redbeardís scrapbook may suit the day better. As a collection of writings I can read a bit and if Iím distracted I can return to it without feeling Iíve missed something.