Mrs. Teabody Greets the Day

Good Morning from Meadow Grounds Mountain where vestiges of that  memorable blue moon still scatter  a little candle power over the lush August foliage. Mrs. Teabody came to full wakefulness when her little cellular phone launched a wake up call at 4:30 A.M.. This alarm was set for an event two weeks ago, and one would think Mrs. Teabody would have the brains to remove the alarm.  One would be mistaken in that thought, however. Today Mr. And Mrs. Teabody will climb into the ancient motor car and head to Clear Ridge for a family gathering. On Mrs. Teabody's lap will reside the cake pictured above. The cake pictured is a Bonnie Butter Cake, made from a recipe in the Betty Crocker Cookbook which served as a sort of culinary bible in the late 1950's when Mrs. Teabody and her three sisters were given free license to bake their little hearts out. After all Mrs. Teabody's mother  was famous for creating bread that would rise to the heavens on a weekly basis, for d...

Did August take you by surprise, Gentle Reader, coming up as it did on its little cat feet   -- an abundance of breezes and civil temperatures, a sun at once bright but not scalding, lush greenery instead of wilted splendor? Mrs. Teabody has many, many acquaintances in her peer group and not a single one can recall such an enchanting summer. Perhaps you are one not in favor of non-blazing days, and to you Mrs. Teabody sends her regrets but little else. A placid time. Truly. Many irons are in the fire at Mrs. Teabody's little enterprise, Tickle Your Fancy, and tomorrow marks the one hundred and fourteenth birthday of the lovely Albert Stoner Building shown above. Chez Teabody has seen a flurry of activity this afternoon with batters and beaters and sugars flying about and the resulting birthday cupcakes and fine iced tea will be not more than an arm's length away from all who come to hear Michael Henry talk about his latest novel, UNCLE TOMMY SQUATCH at noon tomorrow. Do...

Joie de vivre*  (joy of living) is a French phrase often used in English to express a cheerful enjoyment of life; an exultation of spirit. Is July taking its toll on your joie de vivre , Gentle Reader? Forcing you indoors away from gardening projects? Forcing you to start your day in crisp white linen only to find yourself a sodden mess of accordian pleats at day's end? Forcing you to think about packing your bags and relocating somewhere else -- somewhere where it is not so wretchedly and relentlessly hot? Because that is how Mrs. Teabody feels about a July as hot as the current one. Mrs. Teabody long ago abandoned visits to public pools for reasons that would be patently obvious were you ever to catch her in a bathing costume - - AND YOU WON'T - - (Mon Dieu!), but she is remembering with great fondness being able to plunge into a pool to cool off on the hottest of days and perhaps that is your way of staying cool. Whatever your method of bringing your core temperature ...

A Shropshire Lad II: Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide. Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again, And take from seventy springs a score, It only leaves me fifty more. And since to look at things in bloom Fifty springs are little room, About the woodlands I will go To see the cherry hung with snow. ” from A.E. Housman,  A Shropshire Lad  (1896) Good Morning, Gentle Reader on this second day of July in a summer of exceptional wetness and weediness and storms that send even the bravest of souls scurrying for cover. The gardens at Chez Teabody are serving as battlegrounds between what is planted, cultivated and desired and what is uninvited, aggressive and undesirable, and Mrs. Teabody's peace-keeping missions are ofttimes short-lived, sad to say. In spite of al...

The following poems were written during the final year of my father's life. How I wish you all could have met him. I love and miss you, Dad! A Trio of Poems for my Father 1 Look how small I am. Soon I will fit in a suitcase Look at my  alabaster skin Soon I will be transparent Look at my wispy white hair Soon my pate will gleam Look at my ruined skin My poorly-drawn blood blotches Look at my .  .  . Hands like scurrying rabbits  . . . Like chasing rodents . . .  Like vices What do hands do? What in God’s name do hands that always did . . . do? When there is nothing to do but:  - grab at the air for another part that’s come undone - grab the rail and dream of ships and hay wagon hitches and motorcycles and levers  - grab the knees and dream of plunging into a summer stream  -- the shock of cold water heart-stopping - grab invisible food and dream of hotdogs with mustard and onions - grab offered hands and dream  o...

Good Morning, Gentle Reader on this calm but overcast June morning where the scent of roses encapsulates Chez Teabody like bargain shoppers encapsulate WallyWorld on Black Friday. A heady time, indeed. Today Mrs. Teabody will swan off to the International Tea Expo in Las Vegas where she will be schooled in all things related to tea. Imagine! Four DAYS of nothing but tea education. Why Mrs. Teabody shall soon have her PhD in tea. Perhaps some venerable not to mention piratical institution such as Phoenix U. already offers such a degree? No doubt.  And while Mrs. Teabody welcomes the opportunity to learn, learn, learn, she is not much enamored of temperatures so high that one's eyeshadow is soon slithering along one's bosom, and what better scenario can one imagine with temperatures predicted to reach 112? Mon Dieu! But to the topic du'jour: Wanting a Kewpie Doll! Or more specifically wanting you, Gentle Reader, to want a kewpie doll. To want something so much you just wi...

Mrs. T. and Chaffinch share lunch at Sissinghurst Good Morning from Mrs. Teabody's favorite side of the pond - the USA --where she and Lady Glass have just returned home after spending eight happy nights abroad in easily the most captivating city in the world - - London. Having made more than two dozen trips to London across a twenty-year period, Mrs. Teabody has had many hotel adventures from the rabbit warrrens near Russell Square, to the rental apartment with a kitchen big enough for 1 in Bayswater, to high rise tourist meccas in South Ken, and  not forgetting the single most alarming  accommodation near Euston Station run by a madman and/or possible murderer. But Mrs. Teabody digresses. Copthorne Tara (CT) has won over Mrs. Teabody's future business for several important reasons which shall be listed here in order of their importance. 1. Safety and quiet. At the end of the day, one desires tranquility, a place to regain one's stamina and wits. The location of...