A final entry from The Hobbit before leaving Colorado.
It sums up everything I’ve been feeling for months now in regards to our situation, the move and the future.
Gandalf Stormcrow acting as an agent of change shakes the cobwebs and dreaming from Bilbo and ushers him forward to the path of destiny.
And, as is currently happening with myself, poor Bilbo is caught flat footed on the eve of his greatest adventure.
Quite possibly if he had thought it all through or prepared for it, it may never have happened at all.
So, out the door goes Bilbo…
Chapter 2: Roast Mutton…only somewhat edited here.
To the end of his days Bilbo could never remember how he found himself outside without a hat, walking stick, or any money or anything that he usually took when he went out.
Leaving his second breakfast half unfinished and quite un-washed up.
Very puffed he was when he got to Bywater just on the stroke of eleven and found he had come without a pocket handkerchief.
“Bravo!” said Balin who was standing at the inn door looking out for him.
“I’m awfully sorry.” said Bilbo.
“But I’ve come without my hat and I’ve left my pocket handkerchief behind and I haven’t got any money.
I didn’t get your note until after 10:45 to be precise.”
“Don’t be precise.” said Dwalin.
“And don’t worry, you’ll have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs and a good many other things before you get to the journey’s end.”
That’s how they all came to start.
Jogging off from the inn one fine morning just before May on laden ponies.
