Today's sunshine and fresh snow reminded me of the times I visited Tasha Tudor at Corgi Cottage. Canaries and the chorus of the other birds, parrots, diamond doves, floated upstairs to where I slept in her canopy bed, covered with a lace spread. I really didn't want to leave the comfort of the feather bed, but I also wanted to be a helpful guest. Because I kept goats, chickens, oxen and sheep, I wanted to assist with chores or at least throw more wood on the fire. So I hopped out of bed, threw on my dress, patterned from one that Tasha gave me, and added an extra petticoat.
Of course, Tasha was already up, milking her goats and the oatmeal was simmering. We always ate near her fireplace, so I set the small tray that served as a table. Sometimes Tasha would ask me to feed her canaries, other times I hauled in wood, one of those never-ending jobs that also tracks in sawdust and wood chips. Hense a good sweeping follows a filling of the wood box.
And soon Tasha and I shared breakfast, hot oatmeal and brown sugar, and steaming cups of tea. She liked her with warm milk, but I prefered mine black. Sometimes we made plans to go to town, or to search her trunks for a certain piece of clothing so I could make a pattern. Compared to my life at that time where every weekday I jumped into home schooling my sons, visiting Tasha offered me a delicious calm, filled with her wisdom and laughter.