My aunt Elanor is keeper of the Red Book. The Thain and the Master of Buckland, the old ones, not uncle Farry and uncle Borry but those who was their dads, had copies too, but those ones are in Gondor now or some other far-away fairytale place. I know where my auntie El's is, though, because me and my cousins Goodwill and Firiel found it one time when we were treasure-hunting. They live down near the sea and they've got no pirate treasure, it's a terrible shame.
But, anyway, my Mam don't like the Red Book. She says that it's all well and good as far as stories go but that folk should have a knowledge of what really went on. Lady Hope who's married to Mr Borry says so too, because she's all interested in history. History's a book-learned thing, so I don't really much have an opinion on it. There's too many things going on outside for books.
My Mam's in the Book, in the back with the family trees, back when she was still called Daisy Gardner. She's Daisy Bracegirdle now, on account of my Dad being Mr Bracegirdle, only everybody calls him Cob because that's his name as well. My name's Lo, it's supposed to be Lobelia but nobody calls me that except my Mam's uncle Frodo. I've got an uncle Frodo as well, he's nearly as old as Elanor but he doesn't live down near the sea where the air smells all salty.
See, in Elanor's book (and in the ones in Gondor too, I expect), there's all sorts of things left out. My uncle Sammie's not in there, which means there'd be no Cora and Dora and Lora for me to play with! And no Drogo to play jokes on. And aunty Aster would have to marry somebody else, which would be boring because it's bad enough to have to pick one fellow to put up with all the time, but having to go through the mess twice just because a book tells it wrong seems a crying shame.
So my sister Verity and me have a plan, we're going to ask Mam and all her brothers and sisters and friends, and granny Rose and gaffer Sam and Mam's uncle Frodo and everybody else what remembers the olden times, and write down all the things they say (even the kissing parts, yuk) and make a special book all of our own. I want a purple cover but Verity says that's too much like red and votes for green. She is stupid and she smells bad because she's a baby. But the only books we could find that weren't written in were blue, so that settles that I suppose.
I want to call it 'the Pretty Good Year and What Happened After', but Verity says we should call it 'the Proper And True Account Of The First Years Of The New Age'. Which is stupid. I am going to put worms in her hairbrush when she is having her bath. Mam will say I am incorrigable and then she will send me to bed without supper but Verity will have been taught a lesson and that is more important than bread and dripping and a cup of sweet tea. And Dad will bring me some when Mam is not looking anyway.
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