I guess I should stop checking my mailbox for that invitation to Will and Kate's wedding; I daresay there was a royal mess-up in the royal mailroom, else I would have received it in a timely manner.
Despite this egregious oversight, we will still toast the newlyweds in style, albeit with tea and not champagne (it's still too early in the day for this Yankee to be sipping sparkly beverages).
We got a jump on the teatime festivities when extended family came into town last week for Easter. Splitting along totally non-PC but who-cares lines, the males went off to trek through Discovery Park while the females tucked into the delicious fare at the Queen Mary Tea Room.
The tea room is a floral frenzy stuffed with glittering teapots, jewel-like jams, and baubles related to all that is tea-cozy and cute. It's a delightful oasis in my adopted homeland of Polarfleece and Birkenstocks, Inc. Even the sugar in the bowls is lovely.
Which of course is just as it should be. It is always nice to discover that it is tea o'clock.
Today, on the actual wedding date, the women in my craft group got together to knit, sew, and felt while dining on sweets, ostensibly in honor of the royal event: lemon curd tarts, miniature muffins, wheatmeal biscuits, cucumber sandwiches, and butterfly-shaped cookies. There weren't 70 teas on offer, but there were at least seven. And sparkling sugar. And cream. Being the good Seattleites that they are, however, most people first headed straight for the tankard of coffee.
Despite this egregious oversight, we will still toast the newlyweds in style, albeit with tea and not champagne (it's still too early in the day for this Yankee to be sipping sparkly beverages).
We got a jump on the teatime festivities when extended family came into town last week for Easter. Splitting along totally non-PC but who-cares lines, the males went off to trek through Discovery Park while the females tucked into the delicious fare at the Queen Mary Tea Room.
The tea room is a floral frenzy stuffed with glittering teapots, jewel-like jams, and baubles related to all that is tea-cozy and cute. It's a delightful oasis in my adopted homeland of Polarfleece and Birkenstocks, Inc. Even the sugar in the bowls is lovely.The dainty foods speak for themselves: grape-sized servings of vivid sorbet--mango, coconut, passionfruit; triangles of chicken salad sandwich; petite slivers of chocolate cake; puffy scones; razor-thin slices of apple and pear; a tiny quiche that would make a nice lunch for a pair of Beatrix Potter mobcap-wearing mice.
Not to mention there are tiaras for your use. And about 70 types of teas. (If you shun alcohol and sing a long and complete song about tea while wearing a tearoom crown, you would be a tea-tiara total-tea-aria teetotaler.)
If you're wondering whether it's time for tea, just check out the clock in the lady's room. According to this clock, it is always teatime.
Today, on the actual wedding date, the women in my craft group got together to knit, sew, and felt while dining on sweets, ostensibly in honor of the royal event: lemon curd tarts, miniature muffins, wheatmeal biscuits, cucumber sandwiches, and butterfly-shaped cookies. There weren't 70 teas on offer, but there were at least seven. And sparkling sugar. And cream. Being the good Seattleites that they are, however, most people first headed straight for the tankard of coffee.
What a fantastic sounding shop - are there really tiaras? Ooh. What an excellent idea. I sympathise with the loss of your Royal Wedding invitation. If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't just you.
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