Mrs. Teabody Is Held Hostage (by a book!)

Good Morning, Gentle Reader! It is that most magical of all days: Monday. Small, unfunny jibe. Here on the mountain, everything has been dusted lightly with snow, and while there are clouds scudding along the horizon, the glorious sun most assuredly will shine today. Mrs. Teabody notes the ever-lengthening days, forsythia buds that will most certainly burst in a matter of days and then the host of gardening chores that will demand attention: specifically rose pruning and fertilizing and the application of 'barrow after 'barrow after 'barrow of mushroom dirt. It is these days when Mrs. Teabody has close acquaintance with the business end of a shovel that she questions the ambitiousness of such extensive borders, Gentle Reader. However, restraint is rare in most things Teabody and especially when it comes to rose gardening.

What a fine few days at Tickle Your Fancy! The entire village was buzzing with commerce Friday and Saturday and many new friends  as well as tried and true ones were kind enough to stop by to share tea and chat whilst selecting gifts for their fortunate friends. Mrs. Teabody is always delighted to catch up with real world events and she is most appreciative  when such an intriguing and inventive selection of humanity passes its time with her.

This is Mrs. Teabody's dear friend making a Super Woman landing on an holstein.

On Saturday afternoon after all the teapots, cups, and paraphernalia were sorted into the dish washing machine, Mrs. Teabody donned comfortable clothes, made herself a nice cuppa Teatulia "Lemon Grass," found her throw and reported to a spot on the verandah in the sun to start a book she'd purchased some time ago, BELIEVING THE LIE by Elizabeth George. Mrs. Teabody ADORES this gifted writer, and from the very first paragraph, Mrs. T was enthralled. So enthralled in fact that she more or less dropped out for the next thirty hours or so, following a compelling tale of mystery and intrigue playing out in Cumbria/Windemere. Mon Dieu! Luckily, Mr. Teabody rescued her for long enough to spend a few delightful hours with family at the ancestral home where Lady Shumleywinks held forth with a scrumptious repast, but once returned to Chez Teabody, the reading marathon continued to its  anticipated but nonetheless satisfactory conclusion. With great regret. Sigh. Luckily an uncracked VANITY FAIR awaits.
Gentle Reader, Mrs. Teabody knows you yourself love nothing so much as being enthralled by a compelling story else you would not find the momentum to carry you through Mrs. Teabody's  "barbaric yawp," so do visit your favorite library, bookstore or maybe a long neglected bookshelf and choose a tome to hold you hostage in the most delightful way imaginable. Ta for now, Darlings!

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