Mrs. Teabody Weighs In
Well, Gentle Readers, the world stands poised to begin -- or for those friends in the Eastern hemisphere have already begun - - a brand new year. Network television news shows are flooding the world with images from the past three hundred and sixty-five days, and Mrs. Teabody cannot hope not to have an emotional response to this recent profoundly sad and moving history, particularly as Mr. Teabody is not in her company. Commitments will not allow Mrs. Teabody the luxury of being "profoundly sad" just now so "stiff upper lip and carry on" as Mrs. Teabody's mother was wont to implore when Mrs. Teabody attempted to languish in a fit of helplessness.
Mrs. Teabody distinctly recalls a day in her youth when she said to her mother, "Mother, I believe I must have an headache," to which her mother promptly responded, "No, you haven't!" And just like that, the headache--if that was indeed what it was-- vanished. Not many years later, Mrs. Teabody had the good fortune to embrace the works of Mr. William Shakespeare and among the stockpile of favorite philosophies is the famous claim Hamlet makes to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, " . . .for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. . ." By and large the sort of world one inhabits is shaped by attitude. Mrs. Teabody implores you to find a positive outlook, Gentle Reader.
Yesterday afternoon Mrs. Teabody had the most delightful dialogue with Lady Bennett in far-flung Arizona. Toward the end of the conversation Lady Bennett shared that she would like to tighten her mid section a bit . . . truly Mrs. Teabody has rarely met a woman who has not expressed the same sentiment. It was at this moment that Mrs. Teabody noted that her own midsection seemed to be taking up a bit more space than desirable. This morning with Mr. Teabody far, far away, Mrs. Teabody found the courage to step onto the new (accurate) scale. Mrs. Teabody's first response was to tell Duchess Ming to kindly step OFF the scale. Sad to tell you, Gentle Readers, that Duchess Ming was not in any way responsible for the alarming digits Mrs. Teabody witnessed. Waddling away-- terribly unattractive: "waddling" -- do you not concur, Gentle Reader? - -Mrs. Teabody has resolved to DO SOMETHING about this revelation.
In her usual sleuth-like manner Mrs. Teabody determined to find the cause of this . . . expanded waistline. Might it have been the copious number of White Russians shared with Peach? The divine brittle made one frosty December morning with Mr. Teabody? That glorious rum-spiked fruit cake? The pasta Alfredo Lady Cunningwit served at the solstice party? Those decadent chocolate truffles Lady Shumleywinks placed as a surprise in Mrs. Teabody's Christmas stocking? Mrs. Teabody hardly thinks that butter, cream, chocolate and spirits can be held responsible. No, it is far more likely that the two oranges and the half pear--- Mrs Teabody BELIEVES it was a pear - - that Mrs. Teabody ingested in December are the real culprits. Fruits cannot be trusted.
Mon Dieu! That is easy enough then. Mrs. Teabody shall forgo fruits for several months and all will be well. Mrs. Teabody exhorts you, Gentle Reader, to do likewise and soon everyone will be sleek as seals and ready for a holiday in Mexico. Mrs. Teabody is as puffed as a peacock on this shared wisdom. She hopes she shall not break her delicate hand from patting herself on the back. Mrs. Teabody thinks a nice cuppa chocolate chai with a spot of cream may be just the ticket to celebrate at Tickle Your Fancy shortly.
Mrs. Teabody distinctly recalls a day in her youth when she said to her mother, "Mother, I believe I must have an headache," to which her mother promptly responded, "No, you haven't!" And just like that, the headache--if that was indeed what it was-- vanished. Not many years later, Mrs. Teabody had the good fortune to embrace the works of Mr. William Shakespeare and among the stockpile of favorite philosophies is the famous claim Hamlet makes to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, " . . .for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. . ." By and large the sort of world one inhabits is shaped by attitude. Mrs. Teabody implores you to find a positive outlook, Gentle Reader.
Yesterday afternoon Mrs. Teabody had the most delightful dialogue with Lady Bennett in far-flung Arizona. Toward the end of the conversation Lady Bennett shared that she would like to tighten her mid section a bit . . . truly Mrs. Teabody has rarely met a woman who has not expressed the same sentiment. It was at this moment that Mrs. Teabody noted that her own midsection seemed to be taking up a bit more space than desirable. This morning with Mr. Teabody far, far away, Mrs. Teabody found the courage to step onto the new (accurate) scale. Mrs. Teabody's first response was to tell Duchess Ming to kindly step OFF the scale. Sad to tell you, Gentle Readers, that Duchess Ming was not in any way responsible for the alarming digits Mrs. Teabody witnessed. Waddling away-- terribly unattractive: "waddling" -- do you not concur, Gentle Reader? - -Mrs. Teabody has resolved to DO SOMETHING about this revelation.
In her usual sleuth-like manner Mrs. Teabody determined to find the cause of this . . . expanded waistline. Might it have been the copious number of White Russians shared with Peach? The divine brittle made one frosty December morning with Mr. Teabody? That glorious rum-spiked fruit cake? The pasta Alfredo Lady Cunningwit served at the solstice party? Those decadent chocolate truffles Lady Shumleywinks placed as a surprise in Mrs. Teabody's Christmas stocking? Mrs. Teabody hardly thinks that butter, cream, chocolate and spirits can be held responsible. No, it is far more likely that the two oranges and the half pear--- Mrs Teabody BELIEVES it was a pear - - that Mrs. Teabody ingested in December are the real culprits. Fruits cannot be trusted.
Mon Dieu! That is easy enough then. Mrs. Teabody shall forgo fruits for several months and all will be well. Mrs. Teabody exhorts you, Gentle Reader, to do likewise and soon everyone will be sleek as seals and ready for a holiday in Mexico. Mrs. Teabody is as puffed as a peacock on this shared wisdom. She hopes she shall not break her delicate hand from patting herself on the back. Mrs. Teabody thinks a nice cuppa chocolate chai with a spot of cream may be just the ticket to celebrate at Tickle Your Fancy shortly.
The new year tiptoes about. "Stiff upper lip and carry on," Gentle Readers. Mrs. Teabody adores it so when you smile.
Many of us may benefit from advice given in one of Mr. Shakespeare's plays to one Falstaf:
ReplyDelete"Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace... Know that thy grave doth gape wider for thee than for other (wo)men."