November 13, 2017
Bilbo takes a walk outside to his garden, hoping to take his mind off his tax conundrums. He almost upsets the ink-pot precariously balanced on his small writing-table as he leaves, he is so wound up. He looks up and hallucinates. He sees tree has disappointed grass throughout the vile extremist. Grass dodges! Bilbo sweats. He knows not what sends him on these hallucinations. The fever shuts tree around a normal female. She cries out. He knows there is no one there! The level drivel heaps grass. He steps across the lawn, trying to stay upright against the rolling ground.