Michael brought the bag of tresse (we still retain the Swiss word for braided, egg bread) to Peter's office this morning, where I was eating breakfast and reading Tuppence to Cross the Mersey. He settled in cross-legged and asked, "At the end of his birthday party, Bilbo starts to talk like Gollum, you know, saying "My precious" about the ring. Does the ring have some kind of power that it gives off? Is the same thing happening to Bilbo that happens to Gollum? I noticed in the sword game that it attracts the ring-wraiths and that also makes me think that it
does." He knows too much.
Peter's back from Oberlin, but arrived home so late that we barely registered his presence. This morning, Michael didn't quite believe that Peter had woken him up to say hello at midnight. The exception was Josie, who wriggled out of her crate in the dead of night to wag her hindquarters wildly and press her ears tightly back against her head for him. Same thing this morning (perhaps she thought she was dreaming last night).
(Now it's Peter talking.) Josie perceived me at my arrival at midnight, in spite of the blanket that covers her crate overnight. I couldn't resist opening the crate and having a love-fest with her. I'm afraid it must have woken up our downstairs renter, because she was utterly beside herself, and when I wrested her to the ground and pet her there, her tail was thumping hard and rhythmically on the floor...
In the car this morning Michael was asking me the same questions about LOTR -- a great pleasure to watch him engage and perceive so much about it. Tolkien teaches more about all that is right and honorable in the world -- as well as the pernicious force of the lust for power -- than anything other than Scripture. Sorry to offend legions of Harry Potter fans -- and it may be comparing apples to oranges -- but LOTR leaves HP in the dust when it comes to redeeming value and artistic genius.
I've only read the trilogy once (and have seen all three films in their extended versions numerous times), while Pat's read it probably about twenty times, literally. So for the more complex questions, about how and by whom the ring was forged, and the nature of its original power, I referred Michael to the expert. Elizabeth too chimed in about her reading, about a cat and other animals that talk to humans.
Josie is growing and adding all kinds of new coloration to her coat. I hope that she retains lots of the black, even as the brown and white patterns continue to incur upon it. Incur, get it?
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