I am Gandalf,
Dear Bilbo Baggins of Bag-End of the green hills of the Shire at the end of the long lane as marked by the short stubby trees along the way, which often flower in the Spring, as long as the winter wasn’t too harsh, and the winds are breezy enough, since they carry pollen in order to bloom the trees that line the walkway leading to your door,
What’s up?
— Gandalf
P.S. I think you’d make a fantastic burglar
Wrote this as a means to keep myself awake in history class, and it made me laugh. Imagine the title he’ll have after his adventure!
Woolgathering 