Reading the Appendix and trying to reconcile the calendars, I have given up. In my Middle Earth, everyone is on the same day and month, even though Shire Reckoning, which Elanor uses for her Year, is different from Fourth Age, which is used in Gondor. I am going to make Yule the shortest day of the year and it will be the First Day of Yule, and there will be 12 days, corresponding to our modern (!) 12 days of Christmas. So I don't want to hear from any really picky Loremasters about this. I'm doing it my way and that's that!
December 5, 1436 SR: I have just a while ago come in, with the others, from a cold hike up to the ramparts and back. We went to watch the lights in the sky, the Northern Lights or the Aurora Borealis as Sir Meneldil calls them, great sweeping curtains of green and red and white that flicker and glimmer, covering all the Northern Sky. It was worth the cold walk to see such a sight, which is very rare here. I have seen it at home and not only in the winter, although that is when it is most commonly seen, but I have never seen such a brilliant display. Sir Meneldil knows what to call them, but he doesn't know what they are, nor does anyone else, I find. Even the Elf Legolas was wrapped up against the cold, and he was as entranced as the rest of us. It is very late, near the middle of the night, and I am usually in my bed and fast asleep by now. When we came in we had mulled cider and we sat around talking, it seemed dull and tiresome to come in and go straight to bed. Most of the palace was in darkness, and the man who let us back in was yawning and nearly asleep. But now I am wide awake and so I sit at my desk in my nightdress and wrapped in a feather quilt, writing in my diary. The other girls are probably all asleep, at any rate I can hear none of the usual laughter, with slamming doors and voices calling out "good night".
I have begun a letter to Mother and Father, but I am not going to finish and send it until after the Prince Faramir and Lady Eowyn are here. Father asked me most particularly to remember him to the Prince, recalling their first meeting in the glades of Ithilien. I was thinking about it the other day and I asked Prince Darius if Oliphaunts were common in Far Harad. He says they are pretty common, used there as beasts of burden, and as powerful pullers where great logs are cut and hauled out of the forests. He has ridden on an Oliphaunt many times, but he says only specially trained men called "mahouts" can control them, anyone else must be at the mercy of the "mahout" and the great beast under his command. Prince Darius prefers a horse, and he especially prefers Shathur, who has now had his saddle on and who has now borne Darius on his back. We all went to see this great event and I know that some of the Gentlemen were secretly (or not so secretly, maybe) hoping for some excitement of the nature of a thrown rider, or a runaway horse, but nothing of the kind occurred. The beautiful creature was not in the least surprised or displeased at having Prince Darius for a rider, and he went as sweetly as a horse could, floating, as he does, around the riding ring, his hooves seeming never to touch the sand. Pixie got her usual treat of carrots, and I talked to her for a while, and I think she wishes it was summer again and we were riding on the great plains or up on the bare moors.
There is a litter of puppies at the stable, the great black dog named Sable that lives with the Head Groom has had puppies rather out of season. They are adorable, little fat black sausages with shaky little legs, and we Maidens have fallen in love with all eight of them. The mother dog is sharing her duties with two cats, both Toms, who have always shared her corner of the feed bin. It is the prettiest sight to see the enormous black dog lying with her puppies nursing and the two Toms sitting watching and purring. When she goes to eat, they guard the puppies in the most amazing way, and no one would believe it who hasn't seen it. Firiel got her hand scratched when she reached a little too quickly for a puppy, the big orange Tom was quite savage with her attempting to touch one of his babies. The Groom is very proud of his dog and her babies, and they are all spoken for, as he says, because the dog is famous in the city for her intelligence and dutiful nature. She is nearly big enough for me to ride on, and would be a formidable foe to anyone who interfered with her domain. Someday when I have a house of my own I would like to have such a dog, but I am at one with the King and Mother on this, that such creatures belong outside. Narma's beastly little Sleeve Dog cannot help being what it is, but it is too delicate to live a natural dog's life. It is smaller than a cat and so fat it waddles, and it piddles wherever it likes. Narma doesn't care, her mother's servants have to clean up after it. But the few times she brought it to the palace she had to do the dirty work herself, on threat of death by Ioreth and Merien! Sable and her puppies and their two attendant Lords have a cozy corner of the feed bin, warm and out of the wind and they live quite content there, busy and happy in their own world. When the horses are led by on the way to and from the exercise ring they often stop for a moment and they lean down over Sable and her babies and they very, very gently nudge the puppies with their soft muzzles. Sable seems quite happy to have them do it, she will sometimes turn herself a bit so the puppies are more easily seen--I think she is showing them off to the horses!
Well, I am really getting very sleepy now. I just looked out my window and saw the guards who patrol the palace grounds, the moonlight reflecting on their armoured waistcoats and helmets. They have met at the gates to the park and are standing there stamping their feet, and I reckon they are cursing the cold and longing for their relief, so they can get into the wardroom and have "a drop of summat hot". My feet are getting cold, so, this is it for today!
