There’s a rat-a-tat-tat on my door.
I open, and there you are, standing on the front doorstep, a potted plant in hand, a sweet smile on your sweet face (a face as sweet as yours is uncommon; you are especially sweet).
I step back, allowing you to step inside.
Hellooooo, you say. Congratulations!
You extend your arm, offering me your celebratory gift. I accept with a toothy grin.
Hellooooo, I say, my face shiny and flushed (I’ve been baking hard ALL morning). Thank you. This green is beeeauuutiful. I’m so happy you could make it!
100! you say, I can’t believe it.
I know, neither can I.
I’m talkative today, choof-choof-choofing through my sentences with breathless excitement.
I go, then I slow, then I stop. I run, I walk, I crawl, then I fall asleep and snore. But it’s still my favorite thing ever. It’s all MINE, MINE, MINE. Sit down in that big armchair. I’m pointing to the wing-back, the best seat in the house.
Let’s drink gallons of tea, eat cake, and work our tongues (no, I’m not going to French kiss you). I’m good at tea and talking, but I haven’t had cake* in a while. I’m looking forward to it iMMENsely.
MantisWheel is a Happy 100 Posts Old! This wee post doesn’t count as a dinkum post. Cups for Flying Saucers was the milestone.
Thank you for being here, for the houseplant, and most of all, for reading what I write and loving me to bits for it … or in spite of it.
Here’s a cheeky-cheek kiss …
+ a big hug …
+ a hot cup of tea in my fine china …
+ a whopping slice of cake …
+ a Butterfly Blessing …
Eat, drink, be merry. You can talk with your mouth full, I can talk when you’re not talking and even when you are. Let’s go.
xxx ❤ TeaShell Michele
* That’s a fib. My older brother visited for a few days, and I had the most delicious slice of carrot cake. Want to know where? At 101 MEADE.