And now a break from our regularly-scheduled, 30-day challenge for an actual entry! (Also because this way the days of the challenge will match up with the days of the month and numbers are hard.)
Today, Miri and I decided to pack our bags (much lighter than on our trip to Nen Harn) and meander on down to one of the local Shire pubs. Today’s fare: The Floating Log Inn.
|Race you there!|
We saddled up our trusty inn-going steeds: Miri on Stanley, her Prized Ale Association Goat, and myself on Slosh, my Prized Inn League Pony. Packed with enough kegs to last a fortnight, we steered our tipsy mounts down the hill to Frogmorton.
|Lovely little place, isn’t it?|
Now, a lot of you may be wondering, “Of all the taverns to choose from in the whole Shire, you picked The Floating Log?” perhaps with an air of incredulity. The only answer that we can provide, however, is, “Yes.” We are nothing if not adventurous, after all.
|Yay, we found it! Best hunters ever!!|
After taking the obligatory pose-cheesily-in-front-of-the-sign picture, we ventured up to the quaint little inn. Perhaps not the most ideal location (being on the edge of a swamp filled with toads and snakes), but we are of the opinion it lends the place a sort of rustic charm.
|Ready for this, Miri?|
We wandered up to the bar and were greeted by the cheerful innkeep, Ponto Hopsbloom, who seemed to be suffering from a slight headache caused by an incessant banging from the roof. “They’ve been doing repairs for months now. You’d think they’d be finished!” he complained.
|Yeah, yeah, we’ve all got problems. What d’you got on tap?|
Turns out the menu is fairly run-of-the-mill, featuring only one unique drink among the usual fare: The Toad’s Tongue Ale. Intrigued by the name and the slightly oily sheen, Miri and I ordered a double round. Time to get drunk! ...er, sample the alcohol and give a properly educational critique, I mean.
After getting past the...interesting aftertaste, Miri and I thought to sample some of the local food as well. The pub only had one option: pork and...veggies? We’ll get back to you on that last one. Miri refused to touch the pig (stuffy elves and their borderline vegetarianism), but I found it good, if slightly tough. The unidentified veggies tasted mostly of butter and reminded me of something Mum used to make, though these were slightly less mushy.
Though not very crowded tonight, the patrons all had something to complain about in regards to the roof repairs. You’ll all be relieved to note that we did not, in fact, find any plaster in our mugs. Rest easy tonight, Middle-Earth.
|More unidentified veggies and a sloppy spill. Where are the bussers in this place?|
We found the décor to be in keeping with the rustic aesthetic previously established, if a little repetitive. After all, why fix it if it isn’t broken? Some of the tables were in serious need of being cleaned, however, and we found ourselves a little cautious where we placed our hands on the furniture.
|When all else fails, drink!|
Nothing a little more ale couldn’t cure, however! Please note the highly artistic portrait behind Miri. Credit to the artist!
|Little known fact about hobbits: they have no sense of the time of day. It’s the middle of the night, how on earth could you be hot?|
Having gotten slightly more sloshed than necessary, Miri and I followed our time-honored tradition of climbing on top of things while tipsy. Time to investigate these roof repair complaints! After successfully bothering all three workers, we hung out on the gutter and watched the sun rise. Good times!
So. Time to see how you did, Floating Log.
|Final Score: 3.4, Brandywine Award!|