radiant fracture

The Hobbit-themed birthday party went off -- it wouldn't be swimmingly, as hobbits don't like swimming -- but very well indeed. (intertext may corroborate, if she so chooses.)

I styled the birthday my eleventy-first, since it is the 70th 80th birthday of The Hobbit this year, and that plus my age doesn't exactly add up to eleventy-one, but again I think hobbits would approve of fudging in favour of a party, and indeed of the mention of fudge in any capacity.

[ETA: calimac gently points out that I dropped ten years from The Hobbit's age in my first calculations. Enough fudge for everyone!]

Likewise, our numbers were not quite the full complement of fourteen, I don't think, but something like. I didn't run out of chairs, anyway (I had two extra from LB.)

(There were quite a lot of cross-references from LOTR, as my stronger and more recent hobbit memories come from there.)

The beautiful shed doesn't really need decorating to look like something from Middle-Earth -- only the high ceilings keep it from being a ready-made hobbit-hole.

Your Party Name Here

As people came in, they were offered my hand-crafted artisan Middle Earth Name Generator: a bowl full of paper slips. You drew three, and then arranged them as best pleased you to form your name (usually First Last1Last2). The slips are double-sided to offer some options within the draw.

For example (pulling slips at random):

Lucky/Riddle     Creaky/Slop     Wine/Worth

So you might decide to be Creaky Riddlewine, or Lucky Slopworth, or maybe you'd fudge (more fudge!) a bit and be Wineslop Riddlesworth.

I spent a disproportionate amount of my preparation time writing silly words on bits of paper (and cackling) so as to provide a satisfactory experience of divine randomness. Of course, this meant that some words still came up weirdly often -- "skulls" was one.

Now, the day after, I have... a bowl of words. I am too pleased with it to throw it away, yet I have no immediate imaginable use for such a specific set of random words.

Therefore, if you would like a present for my birthday, comment with a request and I will pull some slips for your party name.

An Unexpected Reading

The best bit was the reading. It will not surprise you to know that The Hobbit reads well out loud. We went round the circle and each reading was better than the last (I went first), as thought the energy were cumulative. I worried that the scenes were too long and people might get bored, but no -- even the digressions charmed the circle. From voice to voice, the book's mellow, rolling diction shone through like the grain of good wood.

We shared in a long section from the unexpected party. Then M. read out the meeting with the elves, and intertext and I did a dramatic reading of Riddles in the Dark (I was Bilbo and she was Gollum).

Then there was seed-cake! I'd made a honey cake that came out very dry -- more like honey-plaster -- so it was a great relief that M. had the foresight to make a proper seed-cake (and the tenacity to make a second one after her household dog jumped up and ate the first.)

The Victory of the Nazgul

Next we played two rounds of Werewolves/Mafia, but styled as Ringwraiths. I added a ring-bearer role, though this mostly served to make it easier for the wraiths to win.

(This is the game that destroys your faith in your ability to judge character, or my faith anyway, by hiding murderers among your sleepy villagers and then making you interrogate each other to find them out.)

The Nazgul won handily both times, but I think this was partly because we had too many wraiths -- two would have been better than three for our size of Shire. Anyway, we all dwell under the yoke of Mordor now.

Cards and presents rather made up for this -- it is great fun to get unexpected presents as an adult, and my folk gathered me such good wishes. I was really touched.

Here, I want you to have some too. Please take away a few felicitations with you, some wishes for love and light and happiness, and the blessings of magical owls. God knows we all could use them right now.

(Pocket some of C's cheerfully obscene well-wishes when no one is looking, if you wish.)

Things We Didn't Do

There was no screening -- I banned Jackson's films and we didn't get to the cartoon.

I had thought of having a craft corner where people made furry spats for their feet. I went so far as to buy elastic and some fuzzy bits from the thrift store, but then I had such a bad allergic reaction to my materials that I put them away. I think three things to do was best, anyway. A good solid magic number.

{rf}