First, let's select the tea, shall we? My son, David, sent me this box of tea from England when he visited a while ago.
Once the teabags run out, I guess I'll have to go in person to pick up another box. I can't wait to see my husband's reaction when I break the news to him.
How about Afternoon Tea? It seems appropriate.
I try to allow myself a small flower budget to supplement the seasonal offerings from my garden. Nothing picks up the spirit like fresh flowers.
And, when I can't get fresh flowers, I improvise. Even pictures of flowers can improve my mood.
His Highness follows me all over the house, especially he likes to be around flowers. There’s a perfect rock set for him in the backyard, at the base of the clematis vine, but the opossum that lives under our deck keeps knocking him off his throne, so, in order to save his crown, literally, I've brought him inside. I'm rather fond of him, you see, and I dislike bullies.
Once he settled in, the Prince invited other courtiers to follow him, and set up his court. He brought with him the Chief of Protocol . . .
Madame Pompadour Butterfly . . . His Highness can be quite naughty, and I had to remind him that this was a respectable house.
Miss Bee, the Lady-in-Waiting . . .
Perhaps I can get Miss Bee to bring in another cup for you . . .
Or perhaps not. I'm terribly sorry, but I've been overruled. Miss Bee complained that I didn't give her enough notice, and the Master of Protocol says you are not wearing a hat. No hat, no tea. He’s very strict.