The Lord of the... whatever, Book I, Chapter 1:

A Long-Expected Parting

"So you're going to go through with it, then," Gandalf the Wizard said slowly.

"I am," Bilbo replied. "I've been planning this for a long time. It'll give the Hobbits of the Shire something to talk about for the next nine days - or ninety-nine, more likely. Anyway, at least I'll have my little joke."

"Who will laugh, I wonder?" Gandalf mused aloud, scratching his beard idly.

For weeks carts and caravans were coming from all over Middle-earth to bring provisions for the Grand Old Party, as Bilbo referred to it.

Wagons of food from the Dwarvish mines at Erebor, shiny rocks from the Sea-elves and fancy seductive packages from southern Mirkwood arrived daily, making the neighborhood generally more crowded and cluttering up avenues.
Even those who hadn't said anything bad about Bilbo before were starting to show their annoyance.

"Mr. Bilbo Baggins is starting to get a mite annoying," old Gaffer Gamgee grumbled, standing outside the pub.

"Queer goings-on, and no mistake. Why just yesterday a bunch o' pesky Wood-elves dragged their cart right acrost my yard and ruined my taters!"