Mrs. Teabody Greets the Day

Choose language Afrikaans Albanian Amharic Arabic Armenian Azerbaijani Basque Belarusian Bengali Bosnian Bulgarian Burmese Catalan Cebuano Chinese (Simplified) Chinese (Traditional) Corsican Croatian Czech Danish Dutch Esperanto Estonian Filipino Finnish French Galician Georgian German Greek Gujarati Haitian Creole Hausa Hawaiian Hebrew Hindi Hmong Hungarian Icelandic Igbo Indonesian Irish Italian Japanese Javanese Kannada Kazakh Khmer Korean Kurdish Kyrgyz Lao Latin Latvian Lithuanian Luxembourgish Macedonian Malagasy Malay Malayalam Maltese Maori Marathi Mongolian Nepali Norwegian Nyanja Pashto Persian Polish Portuguese Punjabi Romanian Russian Samoan Scottish Gaelic Serbian Shona Sindhi Sinhala Slovak Slovenian Somali Spanish Sundanese Swahili Swedish Tajik Tamil Telugu Thai Turkish Ukrainian Urdu Uzbek Vietnamese Welsh Western Frisian Xhosa Yiddish Yoruba Zulu Yesterday was a bad day at Chez Teabody

Home, Sweet Home Welcome to Chez Teabody. More than sixteen years ago we moved into the Aqua-colored cabin in the Meadow Grounds that forms the foundation of Chez Teabody. It was tiny, uninsulated, garish in color and inconvenient. We moved in and made it our home. Months passed happily with us paying rent and gradually making little improvements. In November of 2001 our landlord passed away unexpectedly and almost immediately we had a choice to make: stay (and buy!) or go. A few intense weeks of house hunting followed as we looked at homes in Mercersburg, Welsh Run and environs finding a halfway mark between our jobs. None of these visits proved satisfactory. Then one day I woke up and looked at the view I'd looked at every morning since we'd moved here - - the sun rising over Tuscarora Mountain - - and it dawned on me that I really didn't want to leave. As tenuous as my new roots were I was planted and thriving. “I want to buy this house,” I said. Mr. Tea