Not the Perfect Victorian Woman

It's not as if my feelings are hurt. After all, if you choose to let people read the words you write, you must expect the occasional flesh wound, or worse. I toughened up in that regard a long time ago.

That said I'm still sometimes taken by surprise. The current issue of Sweet Willa's Review, my almost monthly newsletter at GLily.com, features a piece I was especially pleased with, Searching for Tea High & Low. As a matter of fact, I'd go so far as to say "I think I handled the material brilliantly."

However, one of my readers is, in no uncertain terms, in complete disagreement with my assessment.

Upon closer examination it appears her problem is that I even make mention of my attendance at the tax day tea party in Fort Myers.

The British were enraged by the 1773 Boston Tea Party. Understandable perhaps when viewed from that side of the pond at that moment in time. But what, I wondered, am I missing here? I simply cannot fathom why anyone would waste perfectly good outrage over my attending a twist on such an event.

The more I thought about it - and with all political thoughts cast aside - I think the problem was that I had agitated this woman's view of who she thought me to be.

It's rather like the time another woman called to place a book order and expressed surprise that it was me who answered the phone. She said, "You're probably sitting there in a beautiful Victorian gown drinking a cup of tea, aren't you?"

The truth is I was sitting there in my swim suit top and capri overalls with a baseball cap sitting backwards upon my head. I was also busily discovering the remains of my lunch - the peanut butter on my chin. With all the graciousness of a true 19th century woman, I demurely replied, "Well...almost."

In this first instance I was able to preserve the aura I have apparently created but, alas, my secret is out. I'm not the perfect Victorian woman.

FYI, I'm nowhere near the perfect 21st century woman either but that's a topic for another day. And no, I likely won't share the details of the evening I briefly became the Chocolate Mar-Tea-Ni Lady.

All I can do now is cling to the words of Laurel Thatcher Ulrich. "Well behaved women rarely make history."

I best go. The kettle is singing and I feel compelled to make yet another origami swimming suit.

To read Searching for Tea High and Low go to:
http://www.glily.com/sweetwillasreview.htm
Sooner or later this piece will be saved in the Sweet Willa Archives.