Mrs. Teabody Greets the Day

Christmas tree teeming with ornaments or·na·ment : a thing used to make something look more attractive but usually having no practical purpose: Synonyms: knickknack, trinket, bauble, bibelot, gewgaw, gimcrack, furbelow . Call it (them) what you will, Mrs. Teabody loves oranments, ornamentation and perhaps you do, too, Gentle Reader? The Monday after Thanksgiving was not one of those blissfully harmonious days during which Mrs. Teabody puttered around engaging in frivolous tasks such as Christmas card writing or Christmas present wrapping or poinsettia fluffing. On this particular Monday, Mrs. Teabody had a serious “to do” list which meant that Mr. Teabody could NOT be left to his own devices in the depths of the house to engage in whatever he does “down there” with his stockpile of no fewer than a hundred wrenches, a trio of band saws, many, many large pieces of machines with heavy electrical cords, wheels, car parts. . . No. Christmas draws on apace and while the front entra

Good Morning on this chilly Thanksgiving morning 2016, and I hope you started your day by sending up a Thanks to the Heaven who hears you for this day, this food-filled, family-enhanced, traveling-optional celebration of  gratitude. If you slept in a bed with a roof over your head, stopped by indoor facilities as your first stop of the day, and are now finding your way to your computer and your link to the interwebs, you already have PLENTY to be grateful for, don't you?  If you did not send up a Thank You when your eyes opened, do so now. Mrs. Teabody can wait. How will you commemorate this day of Thanksgiving, Gentle Reader? Mr. and Mrs. Teabody will be hosting family who always make all the work lighter and the food better by sharing in the preparation. The first course  will be served an hour ahead of the main event.  This will be some delicious soup made by the culinary genius team of Ross and Elaine from Orrtanna with side nibbles of healthy munchies brought to the event

“Going on pilgramage without change of heart brings no reward from God. For it is by practicing virtue and not mere motion of the feet that we will be brought to Heaven.” The Book of Lismore Cloister at Ballintubber Abbey Many, many decades ago, Mrs. Teabody sat in one of her upper level college English classes called “Chaucer: Poet and Philosopher.” Great, enduring literature has lost much of its charm for nascent scholars in the twenty-first century, of course, as it can be challenging and opaque. Recent interviews with potential high school English teachers reveal that this current crop “don’t like” Shakespeare or find Chaucer “boring.” In the 1960’s, however, folks still thought of college as a means to learning as much as possible about the world through its history and letters. A college education was not merely some sort of enforced residency and financial exchange for a few letters to place after one’s name on a job resume. Or maybe Mrs. Teabody is just ticked off that sh

We saw him playing rain or shine We sailed into Galway Sunday, September 11 as our first outing of our recent stay in Oranmore and Galway showed us the business end of her weather stick. On our return visit on Tuesday, she charmed us into thinking we never wanted to leave. Sunday it rained. Tuesday the sun shone. Sunday the wind blew so hard that it knocked one of the banners off its pins on Eyre Square. Tuesday folks played frisbee on the lawn in shorts in Eyre Square and dined al fresco, stood listening to the hurdy-gurdy man. Sunday the surf spat sand and water against houses one hundred meters away. (Okay, maybe not THAT far but a very long distance, nonetheless). Tuesday? I wore sandals. But my raincoat was in my backpack. That day and every day. Forty-eight hours can make a big difference when it comes to the weather in Galway. So can forty-eight minutes for that matter. Such is life in Ireland. Best learn, as the Irish have, to roll with it. As Hamlet advises, &quo

Setting down into green perfection When my head hit the pillow at 8:30 P.M. on our first night of a two-week vacation in Ireland, I knew I would have no trouble sleeping. After all, our group had been in active transit since 2:00 P.M. United States time on the day before and aside from snatches of semi-sleep aboard the plane I had been awake more than twenty-four hours. All seven of us had. Mon Dieu! It was a twenty-four hours that had gone smoothly: a nearly five-hour luxurious van ride from home in south central PA with Unique Limousine to JFK, a drop-your-bags curbside and head straight for security—TSA approved arrival! – which went as cleanly as a hot knife through butter; follow this with a perfect supper of a gorgeous Cobb salad and glass o’ Pinot at Blue Smoke and an almost flawless Delta flight which terminated in a problem-free Shannon arrival. Painless. Bags full to bulging and spirits high, we sailed into the arrivals hall only to be greeted by our handsome and affab

A friend, a foe, a gift, a beau, a journey to go... Outside of the Christmas season, nothing can stir the fires of anticipation and imagination as much as a journey. My uncle was fond of saying most folks possess a tumbleweed gene that looks at the whole world as somewhere else to be. Yes, I also have friends and family members who assert they plan never to fly again (or ever!), that they “didn't leave anything over there”, that anyone who ventures off their street is just asking for trouble. Point taken. And understood. However, Mrs. Teabody's friends and associates seem to be mostly of the tumbleweed variety, the kind who look at the next horizon and wonder what adventure awaits. Through their travels this year alone in the safety of the TYF tearoom, Mrs. Teabody has visited her favorite cities, London and Paris, the longed-for Amsterdam, the glories of far-flung China, riotous India, onion-domed St. Petersburg, other-worldly Iceland. Through the stories and ph

Bee's Knees, Mango Twister, Vodka Cobbler Busy schedules and varied pursuits often find even the best of friends scrambling to spend quality time together so it's no surprise that a once-a-year outing for a trio of loosely-knit friends – all food-fondies -- ended up in a new-for-us restaurant. Tuesday evening took us to Family Meal, an odd and misleading appendage for a very trendy joint. Want to find it? Drive to Hagerstown's Valley Mall on Halfway Boulevard and hang a right on the circuit road—the one toward Macy's and the theatres. As soon as you see Toys-R-Us, heads up, and there it is tucked away in a corner-- all low slung and brandy new with ample parking. It's cool inside, clean and minamalist and we were quickly led to a booth, food-menued and bar-menued by a peppy youngster and no sooner were small squatty water glasses in place than our attractive and friendly “Ali Layne” dropped by. “Give us two minutes and we'll order drinks,” we said perusing t

A detail from Robert Thom's painting depicting Babe Ruth’s “Called Shot” in the 1932 World Series, is part of the Hall of Fame’s collection of artwork. B-325.76A (National Baseball Hall of Fame) Good Morning from Chez Teabody where  all the Sunday morning chores have been  attended to prior to breakfast at 8 at the Teabodys' favorite local breakfast club, FOVA/VFW.  The VFW donates  thousands of dollars every single month to worthwhile projects affecting folks who live here in Fulton County. They do awesome work. The employees who work there are just terrific and treat us like family. The food is wonderful. On our way to breakfast, we soaked up all the glory that is the brand new, huge-and-not-a-penny-spared-anywhere Dollar Store. This project has been a clinic of sorts for any would-be, "dream large" entrepreneur. It's not enough to properly lay a foundation, to erect a massive building with admirable speed and precision, to establish attractive boundarie

Every August  there comes a moment that lets us know that summer has entered its final phase and it's time to do everything we have back-burnered quickly before it's too late: wear that sundress, eat that fresh tomato, plan lunch with working friends before school starts, see the ocean and get some sand between our toes. Even though this will be the SIXTH August I haven't had to deal with the queasy gut that comes with the start of a new school year, there will probably never come an August that I don't recall a phone call out of the blue in August 1976 that changed my life forever. I was living solo in a tiny apartment in Carlisle -- working one full-time job and two part-time jobs, loving life and having a good time. It was the Bicentennial of 'merica and a year that  had its share of ups and downs just like this year is having forty years later. Stick with me and I'll show you EXACTLY how much August 1976 and August 2016 have in common. In 1976 the Tall