Buckland    
The Year 2980 of the 3rd Age 
August 1380 by Shire Reckoning

Drogo Baggins sighed with contentment as he pushed back from the table
and patted his comfortably full stomach. Old Gorbadoc, the former Master 
of Buckland, may have been gone for years, but his son, Rory had definitely
inherited his love for food and company. And today had been a beautiful
summer day, more than enough excuse for Rorimac Brandybuck to throw
one of his famous outdoor parties.

Drogo and Primula had arrived at Brandy Hall with their son, Frodo, yesterday
for one of their frequent visits. Primmie, as usual had been happy to once again
be in her childhood home and surrounded by her many relations, especially her
favorite brother. Frodo had been happy to go on an outing and excited at the prospect
of playing with the many children of Brandy Hall. And Drogo, as usual, had been
eager to once again enjoy his brother-in-law’s sumptuous table.

Now that the desserts were finished, the adults began moving the chairs and tables
and the musicians began to prepare their instruments. Drogo, noticed Esmerelda
herding Frodo and the rest of the children inside. The more lively ones would be
able to play without disturbing the adults.  But others were no doubt getting tired       
after an exciting day of eating and playing and would need to be tucked in soon.

Drogo smiled. Either way, Esme would have them in hand. His wife’s favorite 
cousin had always had an instinctive way with children. It was a shame that even   
after all their years of marriage, she and Saradoc still had none of their own.

The music began and Drogo watching as the brightly dressed party guests began        
to select partners and dance. He glanced around for his wife and quickly spotted   
her bright chestnut curls over by one of the tables, where she was talking to her sister,    
Asphodel and niece Daisy.

From their smiles and chatter Drogo could guess what they were talking about-    
Ash's son, Milo. The lad would be turning 33 in little more than a month and
his mother, along with Primula, Esme and Daisy, would be putting together
his Coming of Age Party.

Drogo chuckled to himself. If he knew them, it would be a celebration to remember.
Primmie had always had an eye for decorations and there was nothing Ash loved
more than preparing feasts. Esme had an uncanny knack for organizing people,
conspiring as her husband affectionately teased, and young Daisy, who was never
far from something exciting, especially loved ribbons and lights.

Many friends and relatives had turned to the four hobbit women for help
in managing celebrations and over the years they had even come to be
affectionatly called the Planning Quartet.

His gaze lingered on his brother’s daughter.  Daisy would be coming of age
herself in another few years, and had her eye on Griffo Boffin since before
she was in her tweens. In fact, once, when she was 17, she had confidently    
announced to her favorite uncle that one day she was going to marry Griffo.  

Drogo had given her a hug and promised that he would be sure to attend her     
wedding. And from the way the two youngsters would use any excuse
to spend time together, he was confident that that occasion wouldn’t come  
soon enough as far as they were concerned.

The thought of upcoming marriages drew Drogo’s attention back to his wife.
With a smile he got up, made his way over to her and gave her a quick kiss      
on the cheek. She giggled and gave him a hug.

“Excuse me ladies,” Drogo teasingly said to the women. "But do you mind
if I steal my wife for a bit?".

“Not at all,” Asphodel said, with a smile. “I was just getting ready to go
find Amalda.” She looked at Daisy. “And I’m sure that this lass has plans.”

Indeed, the lass in question was already looking around for Griffo,
who was, at that moment,  making his way  towards her.
“Go on Auntie Prim,” Daisy giggled.  “We’ll talk later.”

Smiling Primula took Drogo's arm and the two walked off together.

Would you like to dance?” Drogo invited.
 
“Maybe later,” his wife said thoughtfully. “If I know my brother,                                                                   
he’ll have the dances go on for quite awhile. Let’s go check on Frodo
and then we can go for a walk, just the two of us.”

Primula glanced westward, where the last remnants of the setting sun were
still just visible above the horizon.  “After all,” she continued, with her usual
winning smile, “summer will be over soon, so we should enjoy the few warm
evenings left.”