You may think a tea cozy is a quilted teapot cover, and if so, may I recommend the knitted pineapple cozy found in Jane Brocket’s inimitable The Gentle Art of Domesticity. But I’d like to introduce the idea that a tea cozy is also a gathering of bliss wherein tea plays a part.
My first tea party was at friend’s house, and it was given in honor of our dolls, with a tiny painted metal tea set. The dolls had tea (water) and raisins, and were quite happy with their fare. After all, they got to sit at a little red wooden table in matching chairs, and be served. To this day, that is one of my all-time favorite teas cozies.
Such cozies may occur on quilts in the backyard with toddlers, peanut butter and crackers, a great book(s), and of course, tea. Tea may be nice and hot in a thermos if fall is hinting at winter, or it may be iced to be enjoyed with berries picked alongside the road as you hike to a clearing under a nice big oak tree.
Other lovely tea cozy ideas include but are not limited to:: making breakfast special with tea, history teas, tea parties on a budget, literary teas, dress-up teas, teas on the balcony amid falling snow, slumber party teas, If-I-Could-Travel-Anywhere teas, Christmas teas, and tea parties for no particular reason (I think of these as conversation teas).
The only rule for a tea party is: Conversation must be kind and intelligent. Tea is a most excellent place to teach etiquette, and in fact when the kids were small I often brought a favorite etiquette book to our gatherings, Manners Matter by Hermine Hartley.
Now if you don’t have etiquette books, tea sets, knitted tea cozies, and a variety of gourmet teas, don’t be discouraged. Have a coffee cozy (I use swiss water decaf mostly when having coffee with kids), or serve milk and cookies and call it a milk. A milk? Maybe a milk cozy. If it’s cool outside, heat the milk and add honey and maybe some cinnamon and nutmeg.
There are endless possibilities, but the bottom line is simply this: always be on the lookout for a tea cozy opportunity. Bliss!
One day, a few years back, Seth and Rebekah asked to go to the creek and “do school later”. I said they could go, paper and pencil in hand, and to bring back something they’d written–a story, a thought, a drawing, poetry.
Here is Seth’s offering:
I have a cathedral of willows over my head
The sound of the creek in my ears,
A hoodie under my back.
I will try not to fall in the creek.
All this comfort, all this wonder,
I’ve claimed a little nook.
Yet all the while I wish I’d brought a book.
Rebekah wrote me a love letter, and some of her thoughts, as well as this “Spring Poem”:
The creek laughs happily over stones
I hear birdsong and breezes.
But something else is talking –
Tis neither wind nor birdsong nor the creek.
Remember field trips–the best part of school? It didn’t matter where you went, just that you got to go outside!
Since the kids were small I have seized opportunities to go outside–school on a quilt in the back yard; school as we pulled the littlest child on the biggest quilt in the red wagon. We didn’t call it school as we ate dusty blackberries picked from the roadside to enjoy as we read Timothy Tattercoat by Maryel Chaney.
But oh, the lessons learned. Years later we didn’t call it school when we climbed and scooted and grunted our way to the top of the tallest rocks in the mountains behind our house, and stood reaching for the sky and talking of dreams.
I certainly don’t call it school when I demonstrate the ultimate in relaxation. Sometimes, no matter how enthralling the book I’ve chosen to read on my quilt atop an aspen leaf/pine needle carpet, I fall asleep in the sunrays shining through the trees. Whiling away afternoons celebrating the short but glorious Rocky Mountain summer is a lesson in, well, does it always have to be a lesson?
There is nothing difficult about any of this “schooling” – watching butterlies and humming forgotten tunes, telling stories of my childhood, experiencing my children. Perhaps more than wondering what the lesson is for my children, I should consider the message: Life is wonderful.
A Freeschooled Bookwyrm is a child educated at home in a natural and evolutionary manner, in order to develop a child who is all their Creator intended.
Such a child will be like a fingerprint – unique in all the world, unique in all of history. And . . . uniquely qualified to make the world a better place.