Mrs. Teabody Gains Perspective

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 a fresh perspective. As  Mr. Shakespeare's Hamlet states so eloquently, "There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so."

Perspective. From MW: 1350-1400; Middle English < Medieval Latin perspectīva (ars) optical (science),  to look at closely.

Mrs. Teabody wishes to offer a brief anecdote about perspective from her post university years  when she had her every first experience of living on her own. Her ground floor apartment offered a shotgun arrangement of living room, kitchen, bath and bedroom. All the rooms were quite compact and Mrs. Teabody bought her first major appliance from her landlord: a used Frigidaire for about $15 which was transported and installed by  a group of friends.  What glee in filling the ice cube trays with water! With dashing down to the corner store to buy a loaf of bread, a bottle of orange juice! Mrs. Teabody felt very grown up because she owned a refrigerator. Other moving-in events followed: the scant wardrobe, two wicker chairs, a single cast iron bed. Somehow in all the hub and bub Mrs. Teabody lost a ten dollar bill. Mon Dieu! That was the rest of the money for the refrigerator as she had paid $5 down. Frantically she searched every room but to no avail. The doorbell rang and she knew it was the landlord come for his refrigerator money. In no time flat he was through the door and stood admiring how well his refrigerator worked in the allotted space. Mrs. Teabody was at a loss for words but finally stammered, "I am sorry. I seem to have lost the ten dollar bill I had for you." The landlord who had been leaning against the refrigerator laughed and said, "Is this what you're looking for?" as he lifted the purloined bill from atop the refrigerator. Such relief flooded over Mrs. Teabody. Because  the landlord was well over six feet tall, he saw things differently. He had a different perspective.

Sometimes hearing a new perspective challenges one's beliefs. Attend: Mrs. Teabody keeps the radio at Tickle Your Fancy set to "Siriusly Sinatra"  because it delivers a very comfortable play list, one that keeps her mellow, one that features music she adores and sings along with when no one else is around. Mrs. Teabody has come to appreciate Sinatra and his phrasing and his above average singing voice. Recently a newish friend challenged Mrs. Teabody's station choice: "Why do you listen to that gangster?" he asked. Was Frank Sinatra a gangster? Of course she knew about Vegas and maybe she remembered ties with the mob but Mrs. Teabody has always been able to separate the artist from his work. Think Mozart. Think Michael Jackson. The newish friend went on to explain some of Sinatra's shenanigans in Cuba and also attempted to topple the reputation of a President Mrs. Teabody  held and still holds in high regard. Mon Dieu! Mrs. Teabody was not comfortable with this new perspective but she certainly must allow for it. 

Yesterday Mrs. Teabody played host to some of her favorite out-of-owners at TYF including a couple from the Philly area who spend occasional weekends in a nearby hamlet even smaller than McConnellsburg. "What's for lunch?" Mrs. Teabody inquired. 

"We're thinking of trying to find what we need to make Reubens," the lovely Emily -- who longs to be a country girl -- replied. 

"Oh, my, Emily, that won't do if you are striving to become a redneck like me. How about some scrapple? You can buy it just up the street," Mrs. Teabody teased.

"I don't even know what that is," said Emily. The name frightens me. What's in it?"

Mrs. Teabody cleared her throat to explain: "Well it is mostly corn meal. You mix corn meal with cooked lean piggy and you add some seasonings. Then you pour the mixture into loaf pans and refrigerate it to set. Slice it and fry it. It's very good."

"Sounds a bit like a pate," said Emily, warming to the idea.

"More like fried polenta," said her husband.

Emily's beautiful brown eyes lit up. "Oh, I like polenta," said Emily. "Let's go buy some scrapple," she added enthusiastically, and the two left TYF in high spirits with a fresh perspective on scrapple--along with a bagful of GREAT tea.

Nearly an hour and a half has gone by in the time it has taken Mrs. Teabody to bring  you her perspective on perspective. The darkness has given way to the dawn; the skeletal black trees stand in sharp relief against the blue mountains, against the leaden sky. All of those features were there all along just an hour and a half ago but Mrs. Teabody could not see them. What are you not seeing, Gentle Reader?