Wednesday, July 10, 2013

'Milla's Diary, week ending July 10

NOTE: This is affectionately written fiction. Any resemblance to royals, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This piece is copyright protected.

Need to catch up or know who is who? Check out the first installment of 'Milla's Diary

July 4

Belgian King abdicated. Too old or some such nonsense. Set off a a major you-know-what here! Dear One whinged on for LITERALLY HOURS about "Mummy this" and "Mummy that" till I finally just told him I couldn't listen any more. Well. That shut him up! Next thing I know I find him in the cupboard under the stairs having a moan on his mobile to Tiggs [boys former nanny]. Mind you, it turned out her cell battery died somewhere in hour one of the call and the landline was ringing off the hook as she tried desperately to get back in touch. Poor thing! Both her sprogs were sick and her Finish au pair had the day off. Gave her some good Mummying advice and then got Dear One back for her. Such a sensible girl.

Well had to then go into warp speed to SAVE THE DAY. Good knickers, Downton Abbey din-din and all the rest. Had to appease Dear One for my brutally honest rant. But, honestly! I can't MAKE her retire, now can I? Of course not. He just has to wait on the queue like always. Well, seeing the heavenly display of unnecessary china and crystal as well as uniformed flunkies behind our chairs really did perk him up, I can tell you. I didn't try to catch up the Street and even ignored the dogs--poor lambs. Got Dear One upstairs early and had a nice time playing Casulaty Nurse to him as patient!

July 5

Doctor Who!! What a hoot! Dear One in 16th Heaven! Came home from the visit to the set so jolly we went straight upstairs and played in the bubbles in the tub! Really good to see Dear One so relaxed. Poor lamb, he does need these little jollies! And, best of all he left me to watch the Street and even asked questions! But then he did rather go on a bit about old Nanny Whosits loving the "Archers." Happily I thought to remind him of the documentary he wanted to watch on...what was it? Oh yes! Antique methods of grotting windows, I think. Whatever it was he was soon blissful and I got a full two episodes of the Street in. We both went straight to sleep--not even a quick good night tickle.

July 6

Big celebration for Haza getting an upgrade on his flying quals. He really does work very hard at it all. Doing very well at polo this year as well. Sent him a rude e-card to celebrate and he twitted tweeted the silly thing to half the world. Such fun, but then soldiers always are, I always say! Dear One chuffed at the boy's success. Sent him a lovely Shakespeare quote--you just KNOW the boy was thrilled with that, but he is used to his Papa and a thank you WAS promptly received!

Just as we were sitting down to a tasteless lovely glass of that organic free-trade wine Dear One so loves his phone blasted Hail to the Chief and Darling David was all settled in for a long natter over something to do with the environment--specifically something he did not want Dear One discussing publicly anymore. Just as I was cuing up the Street on the DVR Dear One let out a HOOT of laughter. Seems Larry the Cat landed claws first on the 10 Downing Street Jewels.....Dear One had to hang up. He laughed so hard I fetched a bin in case he lost his wine! Too funny! Anyhow, he's now thinking of getting a cat for Randy for Christmas.

July 7

Dear One gnashing teeth after command performance visit to Mummy and Pip. Edith was there, swanning about riding the Glory Train after accompanying Mummy to Scotland. Then I suggested he call OTH (sis) and they were soon off to the races, having a good giggle over Randy being Not Wanted on Voyage and little Edith being tapped. Of course, you know the Mother-in-law WANTED darling Randy, but as it was to fill in for Pip HIS boy got the nod. Well, after Dear One and his sister got done picking the meat off the baby brothers' bones, he was so jolly we had a game of strip Battleship in the bedroom. He does enjoy this! Makes such wonderful bomb noises! I won and so it was supposed to be my turn to pick what came next, but he had a snit about wanting to play submarine so I gave in with way too much good grace and off we trooped to the tub. It's always the tub these days. My hair's a wreck. But, he was so happy! And it was such fun getting to scream "DIVE, DIVE, DIVE" and giggle and grab that "periscope." Reminds me of why we got together in the first place.

July 8

Nice day at home with the dogs catching up on the Street! Ran up to visit Pip who is chafing at the restrictions put on him something fierce. But the Mother-in-law has SPOKEN and he is to stay put. He may be Lord High Admiral, but she's just plain QUEEN. He's parked in front of the telly with the sports blaring 24/7. Had a nice long natter and managed to get the Equerry to pop out for some grub. Poor man is barely hanging on to life on the ridiculous fare he's given. Organic lamb chops? Tiny egg and cress sandwiches? I ask you! 92 years old and nearly all of it in our service and he gets grub like that. Equerry knew just the place. Lovely Naan bread, a firey mutton curry (at least THEIR mutton can be digested unlike Dear One's organic variety) and all the rest. He needed some jollying along and this did the trick. Well, that and the one-day substitute for the crochet-mad nurse. Tatiana, I think she was called. Any who she turned the trick I suppose I shouldn't say! What a hoot! Sponge bath of all times, I gather! Got the old blood pressure back into the normal range at last.

Back home to raise a glass to OTH's [One True Heir, hubby's sis] coming grandchild! Nice to know there'll be someone for the boy's sprog to play with at the big dos other than Pushy's [mil's cousin's wife] grand-sprog. Dear One all nostalgic so phoned Nanny Mable for a nice cozy chat. Did him a world of good! So like a Mummy, their Mable. Always bolsters Dear One up for the next round with the Mother-in-law, too.

July 9

Masked Ball here in the mausoleum last night in aid of one of Dear One's charities. It should have been a lovely bit of fun. Should have. We've an entire ARMY of people to make this little "do" come off without a hitch. An ARMY. So who is stuck dealing with everything? One of them? Of course not! One. It was up to ONE, for example, to unplug the downstairs loo since none of them could decide whose turn it was. It was up to ONE to nip out to the off-license for that special request that was, of course, forgotten. I ask you! How hard is it to remember to order organic Brazilian kumquat liquer for a major donor? Haven't these people been to staff training college or at least watched a single episode of Downton Abbey? Here I am, in my hose, girdle, bra and an ancient Pony Club Camp tee and the Butler--the bloody Butler!--knocks on my door to announce the loo is overflowing. I'm not making this up. So DOWN I GO exactly as I am if you please TO MAKE MY POINT. I grab the plunger, give it a go and "whoosh." Butler should not look for another place setting of Spode from me this Christmas and I think the little Jap lad in the garden can have the extra Opera tickets this year.

I was just back up to my room, ready to peel off the tee when a maid knocks and tells me the komquat drink has been "overlooked." That was her term--"overlooked." I supposed D-Day was canceled the first time because someone "overlooked" the weather? I threw on yesterday's jeans and a pair of flip-flops and grabbed my purse. I used the Filipino kitchen maid's gunged-up old Fiat and nipped round to the off license. Stopped for a smoke and natter with the lads who run it--they just KNEW from the way the vein was throbbing away so visibly. So, financial ruin for whatever charity of the night was staved off by ONE. Rushed upstairs to dress and met Dear One. "You aren't wearing THAT, are you darling? OF ALL THE BLOODY NERVE. "Of course, darling. I"m going as the wife who is putting this little soiree on." He looked stunned. He sputtered. He played with his cuff links. He locked his hands behind his back like Pip. "Milla. Darling. Really. Just a simple frock. It's masks, not costumes remember?" He didn't even talk "special snowflake" simply uncomprehending Victorian.  "Joke, darling," I said, lamely as I pushed past him and locked the bedroom door. Thank the Lord the rest of the evening was a little bit more jolly. Raised simply pots of money for whoever-it-was and Dear One was such a lamb. Wanted to play Punch and Judy with the masks afterwards. What a hoot!

Previous Diary Entries can be found here, here, here and here

More Royal humor: What if Charles HAD married Camilla in the 1970s?


Susan said...

These are so great. I think THEY would make a great book! Course, I don't know anything about lawsuits/copyrights etc. when you write about real people, and royals at that ... These just ring so true! And they reinforce to me how Dear One and Diana would never, ever be a match :)

Hopewell said...

My model is "Dear Bill" the fictional diary of Denis Thatcher. No, there was never a relationship between Dear One and SWMNBN