The Half-noticed Habits of Hobbits
Torech Besruth, Falathlorn, Lindon
2 Coirë in the Reckoning of Imladris
The gentle dusting of snow that fell only yesterday has largely vanished, with only scant patches in the shade of trees and buildings to mark its passing. The air remains crisp and cold, and this is a time still for enjoying the warmth of the hearth.
There is a worn trail upon the floor of The Lair, which shows where myself and guests have walked from the comfortable chairs of the salon to the scullery, wherein can be found the makings of hot foods and especially coffee. That superior drink I discovered on my sojourn with the Dwarves has become a habit of mine, rising almost to the level of a vice. My late betrothed learned early on my delight in the drink, and prepared it daily, keeping me in good supply.
I cannot help but keep thinking of him.
Just a few weeks ago, I took up the offer of my dear friend Lancogard and visited him at his burrow (the quaint word the Halflings use) in the small village of Dunfurlong in the Shire. Lance showed me elaborate hospitality as is the wont of the Halflings, even donning what he thought was "suitable attire": he dressed in formal waistcoat and shirt of a crimson hue! After a very substantial meal, we retired to his sitting room where we sat by the fire warming our feet, sometimes in pleasant talk, sometimes in companionable silence.
After a time, Lance reached for and produced his pipe and weed, and lit his precious pipe to enjoy the smoke. Now here I must confess, I have been in the company of Dwarves, Halflings and Men who enjoyed the pleasures of the pipe (so they describe it to me) and I have grown accustomed to the aromas of same. But it was Lance who first explained the differences and the variations between the practitioners of the art (as he named it). The varieties of leaf are what lend pipe-smoking its pleasures, as the smoke of each different leaf can produce different tastes, aromas and even the colors of smoke!
It was at this point that my curiosity, and my skepticism, were aroused. I politely scoffed at the notion of flavored smoke, and the idea of variety in general. In reply, Lance issued a challenge: "Well, Your Ladyship, why not experiment for yourself, and see what I mean!" And he produced a second pipe from his voluminous collection, packed it with pipeweed, and handed it to me as a chef might pass a ladle for a taste!
"Now take this taper," Lance explained, "the same as one might light candles, and hold it in your other hand, so. Place the pipe between your lips, there, that's right! Now touch the flame to the bowl, there. Draw a breath through the pipe, watch me now. Mmm, (puff) mmm, (puff) there, you see? Just short draws is all that's needed. Now that the weed has caught, take one longer pull, it doesn't have to - no, no, too long! Let the coughing jag pass, and try again, shorter this time. There, there now, draw it in then blow it out.
"Now to really get the taste of the weed, take a pull, then breathe it out through your nose, like you were smelling a pie. That's right, short, not long. There, you have it! Can you taste the aroma of the smoke, like a perfumed fireplace all at the tip of your fingers!"
What followed was a series of samplings of the different pipeweed varieties that Lance kept in store; he had obtained several different brands of the leaf from across the Shire and into Bree-land. I had the opportunity to taste quaint names like Old-Toby, Longbottom Leaf, Southern Star, and something called Southlinch, a leaf grown in the Bree-land. Each taste and aroma, I discovered, was indeed noticeably different from the next, with Lance having his preference to Southern Star. He then entertained me by blowing smoke-rings, delightful ring-shaped puffs of smoke that floated between us until it vanished up the chimney; I tried to copy his motions, but failed utterly.
That visit to the Shire was a delightful time, indeed. I have come to appreciate the Halflings' delight in the simple pleasures of table and company - and they include the art of smoking as an integral part of their pleasures. My two halfling friends, both Lancogard and Applecider, have so much to teach me in these regards.
And on this cold morning, I cross back to the salon, where I open a hidden compartment on a bookshelf, and pull out a book with a hollow case - and I find a pipe and a pouch of leaf - and I sit by my own fire, and practice blowing smoke rings with Old Toby.
Next Entry: Adventure Awaits - and Can Wait
