it’s high time

Sometime in my early childhood on my first family trip to England my mother took me to high tea at Harrods. I’m sure we dressed up and thought we were prim and proper and perfect. I remember being dazzled by the tiers of treats, the clotted cream and the milk in the warm tea. I’m positive I loved it. Then, I bit down on a scone, smothered in cream and jam I’m sure, and out came a tooth. That’s right, I lost at tooth at high tea at Harrods. It’s a milestone I’ll not soon forget and today it all came rushing back to me.

We headed to the Jefferson for our 3:15 teatime. It was my sister-in-law, her mother, and my very soon to be five year-old niece. We walked around and gawked at the chandeliers, the stained glass, the staircase used in Gone With The Wind. Needless to say, we settled in quickly and felt quite fancy. My niece was the reason for the occasion. Her birthday beckons from only a few days away and tea at the Jefferson had kept her up at nights in anticipation. She loved the three tiers of finger sandwiches, cakes, chocolate covered strawberries, Madelines, scones, clotted cream, jam, and our very own individual teapots. She ate the sweets first having only a bit of a cucumber sandwich late in the affair. She was quiet and shy throughout, an opposite personality for her. I think she was a bit overwhelmed, the feeling of grandeur being so new. . She settled in though and walking around with her mother after our tummies were full of Enlgish goodness she said, “I don’t want to go. Can we stay here.” We think she was ready to move in. I understand, high tea can have strange effects on young girls.

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