I had a visit from Missus Hopmead! I thought I had been hearing some hammering and such from across the village, and now I know why. Turns out the Crow's Claw has been fixed back up and re-opened! I asked her if she'd take her job back, and she said she would oversee things but she weren't coming back altogether. She is so blimming happy on the farm with all the children and grandchildren hanging off her apron, she said she couldn't bear to leave them. But she'll be popping into Knotwood here and there, and I told her if she didn't stop by for tea, I'd never forgive her. It's good to have the inn open again. I miss going there for supper when I had some extra coin. And if these three beds here at the boarding house ever fill up, folk will have another place to stay without trodding all the way to Bree.
Speaking of, there's a peculiar man what's been hanging about. He's very tall and wears a hood and is dressed like he's about to travel a hundred miles, or that he's already traveled it maybe. I saw him hanging about the Soothery's front yard the other evening and he just jumped over the stone wall like a goat and walked up and started talking to me. Saw him again last night, he crept up behind me and scared the living daylights out of me! I don't know how a man so big can be so quiet! He didn't mean to, though, and he just sat himself down like we was old friends and kept a-talking. How odd is that? That someone who isn't even a Bree soul would be so easy and friendly to strangers? He's been staying at the Soothery, he said, being looked after for a burn of some sort. He asked about beds in the boarding house, but I don't think he wants to take one. I'm not sure he'd even fit in one, he's that tall.
And speaking of that, moving right along! There's a young farmhand from the same place Missus Hopmead's been working, what's been coming around the past few days. Jerry, he calls himself. I saw him in the village square, where he swooped in and picked up a loaf of bread that I'd dropped from my basket, like the clumsy ox that I am. He said he knew who I was as Missus Hopmead had been telling them all stories of the lame girl she were so fond of before the fire at the inn made her leave to find other work. I thanked him for saving the bread, even though it got a bit crushed, and I went on to finish my errands. But every time I turned around, he was still there and he'd grin and keep chatting me up. Asked me how I liked the boarding house and how I liked Missus Hopmead and all sorts. I was a little nervous at first, as I don't really trust folk that push in on a soul. But after a while, he seemed to sense that and he got more quiet and stopped grinning like a rake and asked me more about myself. And he listened in a way that...well, I don't know how to explain it. It felt respectful. I didn't feel pity like so many folk seem to feel for me when they meet me or hear about me. We ended up sitting on the bridge and talked for I don't know how long. He said something about a harvestmath party coming up soon and asked if I were going. I told him I didn't think so, no one's asked me to go and I don't have any kind of proper thing to wear to a party, just old farm dresses and most of them have stains and patches. I hoped he weren't about to ask me to go, as I'd be so nervous on the spot, I'd have to just tell him no. But he didn't ask. He said he would look for me next time he were in the village, and I admit, I'd like to see him again.
I wonder if I could slip into the harvest party without causing anyone to notice me. It might be fun to have a little pie and maybe hear some music and watch folk dance and have a good time. If they don't turn me out for not having a fancy dress, that is.
