I planned to go to Bree this week to see a friend, a big person, but she decided to visit me here in the Shire instead.

She told me that she was grateful to me for being her friend, because most hobbits don't trust her. It’s true that she is always telling tall tales.

She worked hard helping me bring in my final garden harvest. I must say she really knocked herself out. That’s right. She tried to walk through my burrow door. When she did get inside, she tried to sit on my sofa. She was floored when it broke under her.

When we were done with the harvest, we went to the tavern. My poor friend! She had to crawl the whole way. You see, it was foggy, and when she stood up, she couldn't see the ground. I hear that happens a lot to big folk.

I tried hard to show her a good time, because the poor woman has a tendency to get depressed. She had nobody to look up to. They were all beneath her.

I felt sorry for her. She had lots of trouble trying to find a career. She tried to become a comedienne, but her jokes went over people’s heads. She tried archery, but she always aimed high.She tried to play the lute, but she was too high strung. Finally, she decided to become a flutist. She just loves those high notes.

I enjoyed her visit, but after she left, I had to spend a whole afternoon removing head prints from the ceiling. I'm certainly glad to be a hobbit. We're just the right size!