1430 SR

       "Delphiniums!"

       Frodo lifted his gaze from the household accounts and mouthed the word he had just heard outside the study window. He listened for a moment but all was quiet again, so he shrugged his shoulders and returned to his calculations.

       "Snapdragons!" Sam's voice again. This was followed by another long silence and some soft muttering. Then: "Hollyhocks!"

       Curiosity now stirred, Frodo poked his head out of the window. "Sam? Have you discovered a new form of swearing?"

       Sam looked up and laughed. "No, m'dear. Just planning the planting for this summer. Although some of those names would make good curses, I daresay."

       "Lupins!" said Frodo with a chuckle. "And Rose can't complain that we're corrupting the children."

       "Nasturtiums!" Sam said impishly. "No, she can't. Reckon we've hit on the perfect solution."

       "Mimulus!" Frodo capped the ink and wiped his hands. "If you're planning this summer's planting, can I help?  I can draw a plan." He grabbed some paper and a pencil and scurried out to join Sam and young Frodo-lad.

       "Ooh! Freesias!" Sam added. Frodo-lad promptly had a fit of the giggles.

       "Well, if you're going to swear at me I'll go back indoors," said Frodo. "And begonias to you!"

       "Petunias - don't forget petunias," young Fro added excitedly.

       Sam pointed to the edge of the path. "Geraniums. Must have some of those. Red, white and pink - and some of the lemon scented ones for the corner there, where they'll be noticed."

       "Yes, Master Samwise, sir," Frodo said obediently, his eyes twinkling as he wrote the names on the plan.

       "You can stop that too," Sam said. "I know I should call you 'Master Frodo' .............."

       "You dare! I only came back to the land of the living on the grounds that you would never call me that again!  I'm just teasing, my dear Sam."

       "Aye, I know that, but I could never get used to you calling me 'Master Samwise' like that. Sounds strange enough when others do it."

       "Nothing more than you deserve. They know what you have done for Middle-earth and for the Shire, and I'm delighted, but I'm smug enough to know that I recognised your talents long before anyone else." Frodo grinned down at his namesake, who was staring critically at an empty flowerbed. "What shall we put there, do you think?"

       "Alliums!" young Fro declared. "I like those."

       "We all like those, one way or another. Onions are alliums too, you know." Sam chuckled. "Let's tell people we're planting onions in the flowerbeds."

       "They'll shake their heads and say it is all down to 'Mad Baggins'," Frodo said, and soon all three were laughing as they paced the gardens, seeing the banks of flowers in their minds.

       Rose shook her head and laughed quietly as she took washing off the line and folded it. Sometimes she thought she had seven children, not five. Did lads ever grow up? Little boys all their lives, but none the worse for that.