Winter Tea

Good day, dear readers.
Today I, Pandy, shall take the reins of the blog (with Doggie’s enthusiastic blessing and the promise of post-posting snacks). Winter, as many of you know, is the season of coziness—soft blankets, fluffy socks, and, of course, the time-honored tradition of the plushie tea party.

This past weekend, I hosted my annual Winter Tea Party. It was a smashing success, if I do say so myself—and I do. Doggie called it “fancy snack hour,” but I assure you, it was much more. Allow me to take you through the highlights.

The Invitations

Handwritten on ivory cardstock, sealed with a pawprint wax stamp, and distributed via Mini Blue’s surprisingly efficient mail service. Guests were instructed to arrive at 2:00 p.m. sharp, wearing their “plushie finest.” (Doggie wore a scarf. It had cookie crumbs on it.)

The Setting

A lace-trimmed tablecloth, my personal teapot collection, and ambient string quartet music playing softly in the background (curated by Doggie, oddly enough—it was mostly Bridgerton remixes).

There were place cards. Doggie tried to eat his.

The Menu

Ah, the heart of any great gathering!
Savory:

• Tiny cucumber sandwiches (no crusts, of course)

• Mini cheese puff pastries

• Doggie’s contribution: “mystery meatball bites” (we politely declined)
  
  

Sweet:

• Honey-dipped scones

• Raspberry tarts

• Marshmallow tea clouds (Doggie’s favorite)
  
  

Tea Selections:

• Earl Grey (classic)

• Chamomile lavender (a crowd favorite)

• Paws & Whiskers Winter Spice (my custom blend)
  Doggie brought a “spicy hot cocoa infusion” which I believe was just cocoa with cinnamon and six marshmallows. Still, the guests enjoyed it.
  
  

Etiquette Corner

While we pride ourselves on a relaxed atmosphere, a few reminders were issued during the party:

• Napkins are not hats.

• One does not clink teacups like a toast.

• Burping after biscuits is not a compliment in our culture. (Doggie maintains it’s a sign of respect.)
  
  

Steamy Secrets Revealed

As the tea flowed and the pastries dwindled, the gossip began to percolate. I won’t name names (Mini Blue), but let’s just say someone’s been working on a surprise Valentine’s poem. Someone else may have a secret stash of lemon tarts under the couch. And a certain plushie (Doggie) believes he can read tea leaves.

He declared my cup said, “More snacks.” I couldn’t disagree.

Closing Thoughts

The Winter Tea Party reminded me that elegance and silliness can exist side by side—that laughter over lopsided tarts is just as meaningful as the perfect cup of Earl Grey.

If you haven’t had a tea party lately, I highly encourage it. Invite your plushies, brew your favorite blend, and enjoy the little moments.

With warmth and refined cheer,
Pandy 🐼☕

P.S. Doggie is lobbying for “Nacho Night” next month. I fear for my doilies.