Middle Earth

He has no perceivable form of income.

Yet, he resides in a hillside property which, if profiled on Zoopla, has an estimated market value of one and a half million pounds. It is a grand design of a place in the true sense of the word.  I suppose it is conceivable that he may have remortgaged it or even sold it and has a rental contract to occupy it on favourable terms, hence the impression of self sufficiency in monetary terms that comes with being cash rich and solvent.

He may have invested the capital receipt in return for an annuity. I cannot hazard a guess as to his age, perhaps anywhere between 30 and 120 years old and he could be drawing a pension if in the latter part of that range.

His impression of affluence may be based on an inherited fortune from his family but apart from a bit of agricultural activity there is not really any sustainable employment in the immediate area of the local shire.

I am aware of some great wealth on his mothers side, herself a great character and benefactor in the countryside, villages and towns and much admired and loved for all that. Although to all intents and purposes a self made man and with more than enough leisure time at his disposal he keeps himself active and engaged with his neighbours and friends, although one and the same.

A small circle of longstanding and trusted acquaintances regularly call in at the house and are well received with cups of tea and home made buns and cakes. There is no faulting his sense of occasion, tradition and hospitality. It must be difficult, however, for him to be truly at ease with a degree of local celebrity because at heart he is a very shy, retiring and private person.

The philosophy by which he leads his life is just to be kind and receptive to others as you would expect yourself to be treated by them. On warm, sunny days he can be seen sat on his terrace with a well stoked pipe and obviously enjoying the precious moments afforded by his status.

His eccentricities are characterful whereas in others they would be regarded as fairly revolting. Shoes have never dressed his feet and from the tramping of many miles the soles are leathery and hard and the uppers with matted, dusty and very, very thick hair. Fashion wise he just blends in with the locals , tweed and check dominate in his attire. The cloth is of exceptional quality but nevertheless shiny and threadbare to the elbows and knees.

You could set your pocket watch by his routine and behaviour not just to the second, minute and hour but to the decade and not beyond the imagination, to the century.

It was therefore a bit of a shock to me when I called around to his house to find a note to the effect that he had left on an adventure.

That was most unlike my good friend Bilbo Baggins.