Mrs. Teabody Greets the Day

Good Morning from Chez Teabody where Mrs. Teabody sits admiring the barren woods of Meadow Grounds Mountain pasted against a background of pale blue mountains from her little perch in the east window. A few telltale crumbs are all that remain of a lovely buttery, ethereal  croissant purchased yesterday at the closing note of a truly memorable day-long visit in NYC with Mrs. Teabody's youngest sister, Lady Shumleywinks. In celebration of Lady Shumleywinks'  special birthday, Mrs. Teabody had purchased tickets to  "War Horse", that stunningly beautiful, award-winning play at the Vivian Beaumont Theatre in the Lincoln Center. And that is where Mrs. Teabody fell in love with a horse . . . Mrs. Teabody cries easily. At this stage of life there is little point in holding back positive emotions, and she made no attempt to restrain her feelings from the first sight of the foal getting his legs in the imaginary pasture field of pre-WWI Devon England. His ears twitc

In Gratitude for a Wonderful Life If life is a pie, Mine is four-fifths done But there's filling left And the crust still crumbs. If life is a ball game, The eighth inning's near But the best batter's up And the outcome's unclear. If life is a rainbow, The way's going down But it's so much easier And gold's on the ground. If life is a card game, The aces are played But left in my hand Are the queen and her knave. If life is a water glass, Mine's more than half full Surprisingly clear Refreshingly cool. Life is what you make it; Your outlook is key Let no one say ever Life was wasted on me.