[Pivli]

‘No more tea for me, Vinca! I’m all tea’d out this morning. Why if I had any more tea, I think I’d float all the way down to the Brandywine!’ Violet walked slowly over to the table, her cane thump-thumping along on the hardwood floor. She eased herself into the chair Cook had pulled out for her, straightening herself about until she faced the table proper. ‘Could use a wee tot of your dandelion wine,’ she said, smiling brightly at Cook. ‘that always’s goes down well, don’t it just? Makes me think of summers gone by.’

It was nice here in the Inn’s kitchen. Clean and bright and smelling of good solid Shire foods. Violet took off her bonnet and hung it on the side post of the chair’s back; her can she hooked over the top cross piece. Her bright black eyes gazed about the homey room lighting finally on Cook who stood leaning against the back of the chair opposite her, waiting it seemed for Violet to make known her wishes.

‘Awfully good to see you, Violet,’ Cook said, taking her apron off. She folded it carefully lengthwise and hung it over the back of her chair.

‘Don’t get out much lately,’ Violet offered in return. ‘These old legs give me fits sometimes, especially on the colder days – what with all their aching and paining. Not all that fun getting old!’ Violet laughed at her little joke, following it up with the oft heard rejoinder. ‘But then it’s much better than the alternative!’

She leaned forward and propped her elbows on the table. ‘I’ve come to ask about the Faire that’s coming up soon. I’m supposing there’ll be a booth for quilts, eh? I’ve a mind to show some of mine off this year. You think there’ll be room for them?’