Mrs. Teabody Gathers Momentum
Good Morning, My Darlings!
Mrs. Teabody is blindingly aware of her own smallest movement this morning. If you have an Encyclopedia Britannica, look inside the one with the letter "A" on the spine and turn to page 119 where there is an illustration of the human tissue system. Most pinkish. If you happen to have a red marker, draw an asterisk along every place the flesh meets up with other flesh. Put down your marker and have a look. That is how many places Mrs. Teabody hurts after ONE day at the gymatorium. Mon Dieu!
Mrs. Teabody mentions this as a warning to you and to herself, Gentle Reader, should you ever consider this sort of endeavor. Perhaps Mrs. Teabody has failed to mention that Lady Glass has swanned off to sunnier climes leaving Mrs. Teabody no recourse for their daily perambulation but to take a membership in a gymatorium. Mrs. Teabody should have been fine limiting herself to the walking machine had the enthusiastic attendant not encouraged various brisk and challenging movements using other massive machines. Gentle Reader, it was madness: lifting, stretching, bending, pulling. Mrs. Teabody glanced about to see how others were responding to their similar exertions. No where in the expanse of the gymatorium could Mrs. Teabody find even the semblance of a smile. Certainly not the kind of bonhommie one would find in the local public house or bistro. Mrs. Teabody has reservations about a future visit, but a delightful cuppa Adagio "Raspberry Patch" and a nice soak with Pre de Provence White Gardenia bath salts put the world to rights.
Gentle Readers, you may recall that the Teabodys received a little computing machine called the Fire at Christmas. For some days Mrs. Teabody has amused herself playing a game of skill called "The Angry Birds." Gentle Readers will be happy to learn that on nearly every attempt to catapult her birds well OVER the structure where the smiling green piggies reside, she has been successful. Mrs. Teabody remains resolutely at Level One (Hooray!) and she hopes her Gentle Readers do not find this claim too boastful. On a side note, Mrs. Teabody finds the game not especially challenging.
A light dusting of snow covers the ground, the sky is uniformly leaden, and the temperature hovers near twenty degrees. Winter truly has arrived. Why should anyone languish in the brutal elements when there is a tea room nearby where one can shrug off one's outer wrappings and wrap one's hands around a piping hot cuppa? Mrs. Teabody can suggest a very pleasant one, and she hopes to see you there, Gentle Reader, for elevenses.
Mrs. Teabody is blindingly aware of her own smallest movement this morning. If you have an Encyclopedia Britannica, look inside the one with the letter "A" on the spine and turn to page 119 where there is an illustration of the human tissue system. Most pinkish. If you happen to have a red marker, draw an asterisk along every place the flesh meets up with other flesh. Put down your marker and have a look. That is how many places Mrs. Teabody hurts after ONE day at the gymatorium. Mon Dieu!
Mrs. Teabody mentions this as a warning to you and to herself, Gentle Reader, should you ever consider this sort of endeavor. Perhaps Mrs. Teabody has failed to mention that Lady Glass has swanned off to sunnier climes leaving Mrs. Teabody no recourse for their daily perambulation but to take a membership in a gymatorium. Mrs. Teabody should have been fine limiting herself to the walking machine had the enthusiastic attendant not encouraged various brisk and challenging movements using other massive machines. Gentle Reader, it was madness: lifting, stretching, bending, pulling. Mrs. Teabody glanced about to see how others were responding to their similar exertions. No where in the expanse of the gymatorium could Mrs. Teabody find even the semblance of a smile. Certainly not the kind of bonhommie one would find in the local public house or bistro. Mrs. Teabody has reservations about a future visit, but a delightful cuppa Adagio "Raspberry Patch" and a nice soak with Pre de Provence White Gardenia bath salts put the world to rights.
Gentle Readers, you may recall that the Teabodys received a little computing machine called the Fire at Christmas. For some days Mrs. Teabody has amused herself playing a game of skill called "The Angry Birds." Gentle Readers will be happy to learn that on nearly every attempt to catapult her birds well OVER the structure where the smiling green piggies reside, she has been successful. Mrs. Teabody remains resolutely at Level One (Hooray!) and she hopes her Gentle Readers do not find this claim too boastful. On a side note, Mrs. Teabody finds the game not especially challenging.
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