I went to work on my Pocket Realm, modeling the first piece I am assembling on a place that was very dear to me. I just set down the foundations when I became quite weary, and now, experienced enough to know that this was a signal to stop for this bout of Making or over expend myself, I returned to the smial elated with my accomplishment. But I had a visitor, one I had long ago gave up any . . . I don't know--hope, fear, animousity?--about ever seeing. And there he was. Rollo Bolger. My father. And my nemesis, I fear.
I fear it. But I am going to have to deal with it, aren't I? And poor a'maelamin is dragged into all this with me. So I must buck up, for both of us. And we have so much we need to tell our smial mates about.