Mrs. Teabody Takes on April Snow


O, To be in England
Now that April 's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf         5
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England—now! ~ Robert Browning


Good Morning, Gentle Reader! There is just the faintest tinge of light in the Eastern sky, but Mrs. Teabody is feeling somewhat confident that the planned perambulation with Lady Glass and Duchess Ming at seven ayem will, indeed,  take place as the outdoors temperature already stands at a reasonable fifty-four degrees. Just two mornings ago it was below freezing. Today by noon it may soar to eighty degrees. Mon Dieu!  What is there to say about April? Truly. It seems harshly judgmental to say that April has clearly lost her mind, but what else can one think, Gentle Reader? Mrs. Teabody has lived ever so long and she cannot recall any previous time when her snow boots sat directly beside her gardening sandals  by the kitchen door.
April 23, 2012 Fulton County Pennsylvania


Monday, April 23, 2012 was a date Mrs. Teabody had looked forward to with the greatest anticipation as she would be venturing forth in her ancient motor car  bound for Gypsy's Tea Room in distant Westminster, Maryland to meet with her most esteemed group, the Mid-Atlantic Tea Business Association (MATBA). As the journey did not involve highways filled with speeding behemoths of the eighteen-wheeled variety, Mrs. Teabody had little or no trepidation until the weekend when the weather prognosticators filled her head with dread for an April nor'easter to commence Sunday evening. For once their dire predictions came to pass, and the Teabodys greeted a Monday filled with snow!  At dressing time, Mrs. Teabody looked at her carefully-planned spring ensemble with regret and bound herself instead into wooly tights, weather-worthy boots and other warm clothing setting out at seven ayem for the two-hour journey. Mon Dieu, Gentle Reader! What shocks lay ahead! What fears! What slips, slides and mild but, nonetheless, unladylike cursing! The mountain loomed shrouded in fog, covered in snow, tail lights sending their red warnings. What was there to do but  retreat? Truly.

The next half hour was spent in safety away from the April snow inside the toasty warmth of Chez Teabody with a rejuvenating cuppa Adagio Assam and as the tea worked its magic, Mr. Teabody made a most gentlemanly offer to chauffeur Mrs. Teabody to her destination, an offer which was accepted with  great relief as Mr. Teabody is  both a daring and adept driver in foul weather. 


Exactly one hour after the planned time of departure, the journey resumed. And even though the Teabodys were re-routed  away from the original planned route -- now "closed!"-- the Tuscarora Mountain was conquered, and soon enough Mrs. Teabody found herself  delivered to her destination all in one piece. What gratitude Mrs. Teabody felt and feels for her darling Mr. Teabody! Everyone should have a resident hero, do you not agree, Gentle Reader? One who will take arms against a sea of troubles or, at the very least drive one over a snowy mountain?  Edna St. Vincent Millay says in her poem,  Spring:
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

April has taken everyone on a journey this year, Gentle Reader, one filled with twists and turns, ups and downs, highs and lows, delight and despair, and when she arrives NEXT year, Mrs. Teabody strongly suspects she will be met in the manner one reserves for  a spoiled and wayward - - but much beloved - - child. 

Enjoy this April day, Dearies!




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