So I sent a letter this morning to those rotten bastards who have been giving my beloved such grief :
Dear Persons who so Misuse a Fine Hobbit,
I have grown weary of hearing the finest hobbit in Middle-earth--my Iorhael who is your Frodo Baggins--returning home from work each night with tales of suffering the most egregious abuse at your hands. I have decided to take matters into my own hands then and have locked him in our bedroom for his own good. My beloved is so used to leaving at 9:00am sharp to join your malevolent ranks that there seems to be no way of breaking him of the habit, but by force. So consider him hobbit-napped, for health reasons, and on indefinite leave. And I hope you shall take this time away from your Frodo, this jewel among hobbits, to consider your past treatment of him and whether or not you *can* bestow upon him the respect he deserves. Ponder this well.
Bingo Bolger-Baggins, Esq.
And that is that.
My dear Elanorelle made us the most delightful breakfast this morning--always such a dear to me. I hope I made clear to Gil-galad how much we want him to be here as often as he can manage--he seems so shy for such a great lord. In other news, I heard Uncle Bilbo tell a marvellous story today; it was as if he were his old self again; even as if he might still be alive . . one can always hope. And I do hope I'll hear from my attorney's at Grubb & Burrowes today about Samwise's dilemna. And lastly, I hope I made the right choice in meddling in and trying to solve my love's little problem, and haven't over stepped too far the bounds of his own independence. I'm not used to being in such a close relationship, I suppose. Oh dear.