[Envinyatar]

Derufin stood alongside Andwise as the younger Hobbits ran to get themselves ready for lunch. He took the blue rag hanging from his back pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow and neck. ‘I expect we should amble over, too,’ he commented, watching as Andwise put his tools away carefully before leaving. The Hobbit was a true craftsman, he thought to himself. He remembered the old man from his home who had been the same way. ‘Take care of your tools and they’ll take care of you,’ he’d cautioned the young men who’d worked alongside him. And Derufin had found the old fellow’s words to hold true . . . not just for his paying handiwork, but in other areas of his life as well - the meaning broadening as he grew older. Take care of those things that help you move through your life. It had been one of the small bright sparks that had helped him to move through the horror that had threatened to overwhelm him after the war.

A discreet ahem from Andwise brought him back to the present. The Hobbit pointed toward where Buttercup was setting up the outdoor table for the workers. ‘Look there,’ said Andwise. ‘I believe that’s Egbert Proudfoot. Wonderful gardener – his flowers and vegetables are the pride of Hobbiton.’ Derufin shaded his eyes with his hand, in the direction the Hobbit pointed. ‘Well, let’s go down and meet him,’ suggested Derufin. ‘My Zimzi’s a gardener herself. She’s from the northern coasts, though . . . I’m sure there are different secrets to the soil here.’

The two ambled at a leisurely pace toward the oak tree near the Inn’s kitchen door. ‘I wonder who that woman is, there with him . . . the one he’s speaking with . . .’