Mrs. Teabody Greets the Day

Here it is New Year's Eve 2015 . . . already. For all you youngsters out there, remember this: time speeds up exponentially past age 50 and continues to fly by faster and faster with every passing year. Why it seems like just yesterday I said to J: “Are we doing anything for New Year's?”  Either he was in the garage and could not hear me or else he was in the office simply ignoring me because there was no answer. Well, there may have been a little derisive snort, but that could also have been the furnace acting up.  No matter. We have NO plans. We are not New Year's Eve people. No apologies. If YOU have a big celebration planned, have a blast! We know we can count on  a fair amount of gunfire echoing along the mountain and down in the valley to announce the arrival of 2016. That is fine with us. We are too old to play dodge cars after midnight. One of the unavoidable aspects of New Year's Eve is a little reflection on the passing year, and this technologic

Eighth generation poses wearing Christmas cracker hats Clear Ridge is just that --- a sudden rise out of the woods of Plum Hollow, a  CLEAR unwooded RIDGE that runs north and south between two lines of blue mountains. Rounding the bend after Flemings' farm, the tiny hamlet comes into view, a cluster of dwellings perched high above. Freda Booth's house anchors the view north as it is tucked into the wood's edge. In between, all the land on the right hand side of the road--all the way to the top has been "our" land for as long as I have been alive, for as long as I have made this trip to HOME. A straight stretch past the Millers-- now Truaxes --, a curve to the right and a climb and the urge to look at Gobbler's Knob is irresistible. There it  stands majestic as it always has to the six generations of Henrys who have grown up watching the sun rise over its isosceles triangle shape. In its shadow lies the farm, hilly, precipitous, a pond, Bald Hill standi

Good Morning, Gentle Readers! Here it is December 8 already ! December just flies by with all our to-ing and fro-ing, doesn't it? And it's not as though the laundry pile stops growing or the dust bunnies stop tripling in size almost overnight just because we are all getting ready for Christmas. All last week Tickle Your Fancy was as busy as a beehive in summer as folks came by to purchase special presents. One gentleman had seven different women to buy for including his grandmother, mother, wife, and daughters. He spent well over an hour choosing his gifts, and each one was chosen with love and a desire to please the recipient.  As I wrapped each present, I thought about how pleased each woman will be when she opens her  personally-chosen gift. Mrs. Teabody herself ADORES presents and thinks  the current practice of exchanging gift cards takes away much of the surprise/delight of Christmas, or any other special occasion. Besides that, perhaps you are not aware of the bil

Pete, H. and Don-o Together at Rillo's Nostalgia has been described as a wound of the heart and was once thought to be a sign of depression. However, in more recent years nostalgia has been regarded in a much different light showing that sharing stories of the past is a way of underscoring the connections that made life more meaningful. When old friends and/or families sit together in a room sharing happy stories from the past, the temperature of the room actually rises, according to recent studies. Good Morning from Chez Teabody  where everyone is stirring about in these pre-dawn hours in preparation for a long journey full of excitement, adventure and nostalgia. Mrs. Teabody has made it a point in the past few years of reconnecting with the people who have played important roles in her life in all of its stages and the results have been much more than gratifying. They have also been rejuvenating. Pictured above are two friends who were a huge part of her life during her e

John Thaw was Inspector Morse For all those unhappy with these brilliant end-of-August cool mornings, Mrs. Teabody is giving  you a  peanut to the side of your head.  How can you begrudge anyone such windows-open, humidity-free starts to days? Do make yourself a cuppa and go sit in a corner on the porch and stop being so churlish. In no time at all, you will be trading out all those pasty-skin revealing clothing for nice, cuddly knits in lovely heathers and grey and blacks. Wonderful boots. Tights. Hair that stays curled. Surely there is a spot in the universe where one can live in such pleasant temperatures year-round? The Teabodys are back in Oxford again, albeit through the television and those gifted writers, cinematographers and actors at the BBC. The show of choice is ENDEAVOUR featuring Shaun Evans as the probable youthful incarnation of beloved Inspector Morse shown above. Inspector Morse first swam into Mrs. Teabody's view whilst she truly was IN Oxford  in the ear

Good Morning from a moist and muggy Meadow Grounds Mountain where the fish are jumpin' (in the aquarium) and the cotton is  high (on the bed). If anyone had ANY shred of doubt about Summer being  firmly ensconced, you simply must be housebound and not among those individuals who climbed a flight of stairs to a very warm "Second Story" to revel in the presentation of the artwork of eight of the best local artists as well as  the folk art finding its way onto the sides of local barns and other buildings through the efforts of the Fulton County Barn Quilt Trail. Opening weekend with over 200 visitors  during the artists' reception Friday night and  well over one hundred more on the weekend was evidence enough that folks want art in their lives, that they DO value the creative process. Like any undertaking of this magnitude, it takes a village of people and Thanks are due so here goes: Antietam Ironworks is owned by Kathleen Gunnell and her family. Without her open mi

Quiet hangs on these rooms and on the fully-leaved and lushy green trees that surround Chez Teabody this Fourth of July 2015. Cool breezes waft through the house's open windows and screened doorways this fourth morning in a row where low temperatures have provided the best of sleeping conditions. It rained in the night again making gardening  iffy and the forecast is for cloudy and overcast with a chance of picnics. Mrs. Teabody woke up with these  memorized and sacrosanct words on her mind this Independence Day: "We hold these truths to be self evident: that all men are created equal, endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, That among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness." Created equal. All men. Everybody. Everybody. It is no leap of faith to conclude that those born in China or Persia or Sweden or Africa are also created equal. Even if they have a different flag. They do have different flags. Mrs. Teabody does not feel any scars

A lily prepares to bloom without fear. Hello, Summer! You have teased this little part of the world for weeks now with the errant scorcher, the ominous thunderstorms,  the lushing-out greens. Now this June 22, 2015 you have officially arrived full of promise, full of plans, and ready to throw a curve ball into any of it when you have a mind to. Welcome, Summer, with all your wacky and unpredictable wonderfulness. At Tickle Your Fancy , Mrs. Teabody's little downtown enterprise, you can find at least a dozen teas that will flavor your summer in new and unchartered ways including Marrakech Mint, Moroccan Mint, and  Slammin' Sammy Spearmint for all of you who like to get your mint on. For the exotic, there is brandy new "Shakespeare" which is a dark chocolate cherry tea good hot or cold. For the health-conscious ( All tea drinkers believe in and enjoy wonderful health!) there is "Bullett-Proof", a rooibos generously laced with turmeric and ginger. Do che

Good Morning from Chez Teabody where the  last of the peony-infused air is a perfect complement to the green gold canopy of the surrounding trees. The world outside is one of dappled prettiness; the gardens are a bit refreshed by yesterday's shower. The day lies ahead, a blank canvas rife with possibility. You feel it, too, yes? Today you must say Goodbye to a May that worked hard to rival any April with her crazy extremes in temperatures. It's June. It's  (unofficially) summer. And summer means sometimes going outside one's comfort zone, one's hermetically sealed existence. Do you regard the natural world as your enemy, Gentle Reader? Does the idea of having contact with a bee or a bird carry the same level of threat for you as  accidentally sitting down next to a bear in a darkened movie theatre?  While this modern world screams "CAUTION" at every corner, Mrs. Teabody finds it wise to bring a measure of common sense to day-to-day existence, to bu

For seven mornings in a row, Mrs. Teabody has awakened to a nice cool breeze wafting through her sleeping chamber and the varying voices of the morning chorus.  She hopes you have, too. This is, as anyone who has lived more than half a century will tell you, a blessed time weather-wise. Even though afternoon temps have been more June-like than May, most folks agree it is a most halcyon spell with trees full of leaves and plants springing from the ground. Pictured above is the wisteria blooming its fool head off at Chez Teabody. According to Wikipedia, wisteria vines climb by twining their stems either clockwise or counterclockwise round any available support. They can climb as high as 20 m above the ground and spread out 10 m laterally. The world's largest known Wisteria vine is in Sierra Madre, California , measuring more than 1 acre (0.40 ha) in size and weighing 250 tons. The Teabody Wisteria , as it is known here by exactly two people, has not had an easy spring

Mr. Teabody's Sculpture "To the Virgins, to make much of Time GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may,  Old Time is still a-flying:  And this same flower that smiles to-day  To-morrow will be dying." ~ Robert Herrick, 1591–1674 Good Morrow from an oh-so-very-dark Meadow Grounds Mountain where a stroll outdoors to look at the starry pre-dawn sky requires neither coat nor shoes. This is that riotous blooming part of April, that all-too-short reign of yellow and pink things in nature. Hopefully, you, Gentle Reader, are out of doors for part of it. Mrs. Teabody would not want you to approach summer without your brain chock full of mental images of daffodils, forsythia, magnolia and cherry. Sadly their season is a short one so no dallying.Take a little walk around your neighborhood and look at gardens and front yards and try not to get picked up for loitering. Do you watch much television? Before you scoff and say, "Everyone does," you should know

“Nostalgia serves a crucial existential function,” Dr. Routledge says. “It brings to mind cherished experiences that assure us we are valued people who have meaningful lives."  How cross has this "spring" month made you, Gentle Reader? The buds on Mrs. Teabody's forsythia and roses are so tight and tiny there seems little hope of a flowery Easter and even the little birds at the feeders are wearing their winter coats to breakfast. If it were not for a nice steamy cuppa English Breakfast and a wooly robe, Mrs. Teabody would be languishing abed instead of tapping away this almost the end-of-March Sunday morning. Complaining about the weather is fruitless, of course. Mother Nature will do as she pleases and if Easter morning arrives blanketed in a few inches of snow, it will come as no surprise to Mrs. Teabody and her esteemed group of friends pictured above. Clever Mr. Teabody used his computer skills to superimpose formal graduation/yearbook pictures from 1963 a

Good Morning from a pinky-skyed Meadow Grounds Mountain where every clock inside Chez Teabody has been given notice that changes are coming. Mrs. Teabody is sipping a fragrant cup of "Pete and Irene" and enjoying its dense notes of chocolate infused with cardamom. Tonight is the night this little part of the world switches from Daylight Saving Time (DST) to  Eastern Standard Time (EST). Meaningless in this context of course. There is only one thing most folks want to know: "Do we turn the clocks back or turn them ahead?" And the very wise in the world sagely recite the mnemonic, "Fall backward, spring forward." This generates grim looks, clenched fist and jowl and the response appropriate to age and relationship, most of which Mrs. Teabody has no intention of sharing. A simple "WTH" suffices. For intents and purposes here, just before you fall into your bed tonight at 2:00 A.M., you will want to turn your clocks AHEAD to 3:00 A.M. . In ot

Renascence   ALL I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked the other way, And saw three islands in a bay. So with my eyes I traced the line Of the horizon, thin and fine, Straight around till I was come Back to where I’d started from; And all I saw from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood. ~Edna St. Vincent Millay  (1892–1950) 6:10 and the windows are full of  nothing but darkness. It is pre-dawn quiet here on the side of Meadow Grounds Mountain and another winter's day is in the offing. Perhaps like the Teabodys you are feeling Winter's grip and not much liking it. That beastly  Punxsutawney  rodent saw his shadow on Monday, and to say many have unkind thoughts regarding "Phil"  and his forecast is understatement.  House captives. As much as you love and adore those who share your abode through these long winter nights, there are times when you long for fresh company and the offering of