Mrs. Teabody Eats Cake
Good Morning, Gentle Reader! What a nice surprise to see the forrest floor illuminated with snow! One would not fear venturing out into such a landscape, would one? After all, where could the wolves, bears, coyotes, wolverines and other animals bent on human dining possibly hide? No, the forrest would be ever so much less frightening, do you not agree? Pity it is too cold.
Mrs. Teabody has had an exceptional dream in which things went very badly for her. Of course, Mrs. Teabody's bad dreams are never of the magnitude and horror of others who routinely find themselves being shot while driving their cars or trapped beneath an avalanche ! Quelle horreur! On the contrary, Mrs. Teabody, every two years or so, dreams about showing up at a largish social function inappropriately dressed or, as was the case in last night's dream, being dreadfully inconvenienced. Attend.
Mrs. Teabody was ensconced at a well-placed table in some hotel lobby in some indeterminate city enjoying the decor and possibly a wee dram of some spirits. Hearing a sound--possibly gunfire in some other person's dream?-- she rose smartly, inadvertently tossing her cellular phone to the marble floor where it burst into no fewer than a dozen pieces-- three of which appeared to be watch batteries. Suddenly there appeared for her aid the hotel concierge along with two of those diminutive but, nonetheless, wicked minions of Fagin, the Artful Dodger and Charlie Bates. Gentle Reader, have you already arrived at a conclusion? Oui? As you suspected, Mrs. Teabody's handbag/purse/pocketbook was plucked clean by the duo of all its money-accessing plastic, not to mention the miniature passport card and government-sanctioned social program cards. After allowing herself a soupcon of despair over her hopeless state, Mrs. Teabody left the unpleasant dream behind. As one should.
Mrs. Teabody strongly suspects the dream was inspired by an overindulgence in a beautiful and delectable cake. That cake decorating goddess, Lady Lindsey Miller of The Batter Bowl, appeared in the forenoon bearing an extraordinary masterpiece for Mr. Teabody's birthday. If you visit the Facebook page of Tickle Your Fancy, you will see a photograph of this. In the meanwhile do have a look at one of Lady Lindsey's dazzling confections:
Gentle Reader, isn't hers a noteworthy talent? Mr. Teabody's cake was every bit as exceptional and at the little fete to honor his birthday, the cake sat in a position of prominence throughout the meal. By the time Mrs. Teabody took a knife to it, guests were slobbering into their bibs in anticipation. Mrs. Teabody is delighted to report that the flavor matched the beauty; it was form AND function. Delightful. The only thing that could have made it better was a nice cuppa, and sadly the tearoom was half a mile away.
Mrs. Teabody has had an exceptional dream in which things went very badly for her. Of course, Mrs. Teabody's bad dreams are never of the magnitude and horror of others who routinely find themselves being shot while driving their cars or trapped beneath an avalanche ! Quelle horreur! On the contrary, Mrs. Teabody, every two years or so, dreams about showing up at a largish social function inappropriately dressed or, as was the case in last night's dream, being dreadfully inconvenienced. Attend.
Mrs. Teabody was ensconced at a well-placed table in some hotel lobby in some indeterminate city enjoying the decor and possibly a wee dram of some spirits. Hearing a sound--possibly gunfire in some other person's dream?-- she rose smartly, inadvertently tossing her cellular phone to the marble floor where it burst into no fewer than a dozen pieces-- three of which appeared to be watch batteries. Suddenly there appeared for her aid the hotel concierge along with two of those diminutive but, nonetheless, wicked minions of Fagin, the Artful Dodger and Charlie Bates. Gentle Reader, have you already arrived at a conclusion? Oui? As you suspected, Mrs. Teabody's handbag/purse/pocketbook was plucked clean by the duo of all its money-accessing plastic, not to mention the miniature passport card and government-sanctioned social program cards. After allowing herself a soupcon of despair over her hopeless state, Mrs. Teabody left the unpleasant dream behind. As one should.
Mrs. Teabody strongly suspects the dream was inspired by an overindulgence in a beautiful and delectable cake. That cake decorating goddess, Lady Lindsey Miller of The Batter Bowl, appeared in the forenoon bearing an extraordinary masterpiece for Mr. Teabody's birthday. If you visit the Facebook page of Tickle Your Fancy, you will see a photograph of this. In the meanwhile do have a look at one of Lady Lindsey's dazzling confections:
Gentle Reader, isn't hers a noteworthy talent? Mr. Teabody's cake was every bit as exceptional and at the little fete to honor his birthday, the cake sat in a position of prominence throughout the meal. By the time Mrs. Teabody took a knife to it, guests were slobbering into their bibs in anticipation. Mrs. Teabody is delighted to report that the flavor matched the beauty; it was form AND function. Delightful. The only thing that could have made it better was a nice cuppa, and sadly the tearoom was half a mile away.
The sun is now well above the horizon and Mrs. Teabody can see the wind kicking up whirlywinds of snow so she shall not venture into the woods on such a day. She shall report to Tickle Your Fancy and put on the kettle in anticipation of your arrival to join her in a cuppa. The wolverines and wintry blasts shall stay in the woods where they belong. You, Gentle Reader, shall drink hot tea and eat cake -- even if it is only of the cyber sort.
Au revoir, Darlings!
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