Tamarie is living in a hobbit hole. A really nice one. Spacious, airy (as airy as an underground hole can get), lovely views of an apple orchard, hobbit-sized round windows and doors, the whole nine yards. Like all other engaged women of the world, she has been given a charge card with an endless limit, the only caveat being that all of the charges must be wedding-related. But in the dream, I notice that she is putting all kinds of non-wedding related expenses on her card, like her nice, spacious new hobbit hole, and her four shiny new leather sofas. I call her on it, and her eyes fill with tears. "But I do need these things for the wedding! I do! Can't you understand that?" I feel like such a cad.
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