Wednesday, July 17, 2013

'Milla's Diary, week ending July 17, 2013

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 11

Where to start? The press is positively FEASTING on Preggy and the soon-to-be-heir-to-the-spare! Dear One getting a bit twitchy about all the positive press the Boy is of course getting as the soon to be Father of the Century. SWMNBN and her crocodile tears left the world thinking Dear One was a cold, uncaring father. Nothing could be further from the truth! If you heard him when days went by with no word from Haza in Afghanistan you'd know what a loving, caring father sounds like. That he didn't do stunts with his children to make himself look good also speaks volumes about him as a caring Papa. End of Sermon!

Well, anyway, he's a bit twitchy and that means time for relaxation, I always say! Lovely fun playing Cricket on the Wii last night. Got him well lubricated on that awful yummy fair trade organic wine he raves about (but wisely stuck to good old British G & T for yours truly). I was considerably ahead (all thanks to a very equality minded Headmistress who had us play Cricket instead of tennis unless the parents objected) when he decided it would be more fun to play "Conduct the Symphony" which one finds to be a tremendous drag. So I let him conduct away while the dogs and I snuggled and caught up the Street on the dvr. Apparently conducting did the trick! He was frisky as a colt when we got upstairs! Deicded to play Cops and Robbers! What a hoot. Then his "gun" misfired and he was suddenly tired. Shame, that.

July 12

Press in gleeful mood having unearthed film of some Great-Great-whoeveritwas of Preggy's greeting an actual royal. I had to giggle. Then laugh. What a hoot! HER dearly departed shook HANDS with one of HIS dearly departed. Hello? ONE'S dearly departed got a bit more personal attention than that!  Well, before you could say "Mrs. Keppel for tea" I passed the paper to Dear One and he too found it a Hoot! With no early morning engagement, and to recover from last night's disappointment he went straight up to the dressing room for a frock coat while I had that little Filippino kitchen maid lace me up into a corset Old Lady Grantham would find a bit too business like! Oh the jolly time of it! Dear One stepped smartly out the front door 90 minutes later and into that antique Bentley just like a BOSS!

Spent the rest of the morning nattering on with Sylvia about her endless divorce. Poor dear! Who knew old Reg had it in him--a father again at HIS age. Poor darling, she's such a lamb. Nipped round and ran her out to lunch, then got one of the older "younger" Equerries to take her to dinner. That'll show old Reg! Finally settled down to finish the street, when "Satisfaction" blared from my phone, jolting me back to reality. Off I went in the kitchen maid's old FIAT to take Pip to OAP day at the Cinema. He WOULD need the loo 40 times in 90 minutes, but it did seem to buck him up! I nodded off during the last bit and woke to find him gone walk-about. Before I pressed the Red Alert button, I sent an old dear into the gents to see if he was there. No luck. Finally, FINALLY, found him chatting up the little doll at the candy counter. What a relief! She gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek and he gave her 100 quid. So much for the "they never carry cash" theory. We'll see what the Mother-in-law says if anyone got a photo. I had him well disguised though--Barbour, cloth cap, NHS specs, discount chain store khakis, but he did nearly blow it with that Gatcome Horse Trials t-shirt. I chided him loudly for wearing Charity Shop gear in public. That seemed to get the OAPs from looking too carefully thru the tri-focals.

July 13

Spent the day rooting out "must-have" gear for the trip to Hell Balmoral. Wonderful, of course, once we're there, but OH the packing! Could the bloody Butler do his job? Could he? I ask you? NO! I FINALLY located Dear One's favorite fishing vest (in the boot of the Rolls if you must know) but have yet to unearth the sweater Nanny Whosits knitted in 1967 that's a must for fly-fishing early in the morning. My suggestion that Dear One simply time-shift and fly fish in the LATE morning was met with stone cold silence. Ala the mother-in-law. Made the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall, I can tell you! But, I saved the day by locating his electonic fish-finder that Haza gave him a few years ago. He was happy as a clam playing with it till the batteries went dead. Had a flash of inspiration and liberated the batteries from HIS wii controller and the day was saved!

Seeing how upset he was about the sweater going AWOL I had to give the kitchen staff the pep talk of pep talks and they managed to roll out a dinner of organic num-nums served on the best plate, with the best crystal. Personally I was simply PERISHING for an onion bahji (damned menupause! I crave things worse than when I was preggers!) but had to make do with creamed baby onions. Then Dear One got in a snit because they weren't POSITIVE the onions were certified organic. And onion is an onion, I always say! But, Dear One in a snit is not something I enjoy. I rang round the shops and finally got a manager, apparently at a wine bar from the sound of things in the background, who swore on his mother's 100th birthday card from the Mother-in-law that the wretched onions were organic and peace was restored.

I was knackered by then, but could we just settle down and watch telly with a drink and the dogs? NO! New speech to practice. Being half dead with fatigue and half crazed with the bloody bahji craving, I wasn't listening too carefully. When one of the dogs twitched an ear though, I knew I'd better'd sit up and take notice. And good thing, too! Dear One, in a speech to some sort of community-harmony johnnies, was calling for a return to Tenement Housing Schemes. His term. I swear. No, I'm not making this up. "Sorry, darling, could you run that last bit again?" He did. He so did. Special Snowflake Mummy time again. Didn't even wait for him to ask, just grabbed the iPad and Googled like mad. Seems, who else? Granny told him people LIKED living like that! Distrusted toilets in the house it seems. Odd, but there you have it, she had said. I don't know--I just don't know! Was the old lady just barking mad?  Suggested he propose a scheme to give OAPs fridges with the freezer on the bottom--a drawer freezer actually. Grabbed the idea from a commercial I'd skipped on the dvr. He loved it. Had no idea why an OAP would need a freezer though. I told him it was to put the dentures in at night in case of swollen gums. He declared me brilliant and I finally, FINALLY got to see an entire episode of the street while he played with one of his swords (the plastic ones. I had to lock the real ones up after the incident with the drapes).

July 14
Slogged on with the Balmoral packing. Got the Filipino kitchen maid to help at least. Footman has a trick knee so couldn't help, Butler is covered by collective bargaining agreement negotiated separately so "packing" per se is technically OUT. Did point out the all purpose "other REASONABLE duties as prescribed by employer" clause, but apparently packing for Balmoral is NOT reasonable. So. Up to One. Again. And, of course, the Filipino kitchen maid. Guess which one is getting the lovely big check in the Christmas card. Not the Butler! And won't his toy boy be disappointed when it's a package ski tour this New Year's? I swear next year I'm simply booking at Butlin's with the Grands. Dear One now also "hopes" I can find the "dear little" camping tea pot Nanny gave him in 1957. 1950-bloody-SEVEN if you please! The things I do for England!

  
July 15

Oh honestly, the PRESS!! I said I HOPED, HOPED!!! the baby would be here by week's end. Now they're putting it about that it's official! Oh, my word! Happily the Boy and Preggy understand. Dear One VERY twitchy since that woman asked him how it would be to Grandparent a murdered woman's angel-grandchild. Yes, honestly. It IS sad she isn't here to see the baby and to be with the Boy, but honestly. Being horrid doesn't bring her back, does it?

Dear One, understandably, a bit low over this comment. Didn't help that someone shoved a tampax voucher at him again, either. He locked himself away in his study and went thru his photo albums, Elgar blaring away on what he insists on calling the "Hi-Fi." I finally got the master key from the Butler and went in to console him. Red eyed, book open to the boys' baby photos. Such a lamb. I was relieved to see a tumbler of Old Grouse for a change instead of that organic cat piss wine he so loves.  The dogs came rushing in and jollyed him up a bit, which is such a blessing.

July 16

Will this baby ever happen?????

Dear One in a tiff with Edith again. Lad phoned to complain book makers are betting on "James" as the baby's name if said sprog is a boy prince. Had the Boy forgotten that name belongs to Edith's son? Well since no one ever sees the child, only the girl, apparently we DID forget. But it's not likely to be James anyway, is it? After the way SWMNBN carried on with her Ginger-James, is it? Revive all that Tosh about Haza being his son! Utter nonsense! Have they never looked at the boy?? He looks like what would have happened if Dear One had had a child by his ex-father-in-law, I always say. But, people see what they want to see. Like all that guff about Randy being Porky or Patchy or whosits son! AS IF the mother-in-law would have..... Can't even say it! So duty bound she'd never.... Not even when the bloke loved horses so much. Devoted to Pip after all.


July 17

Still no baby. But truly, the family can't win with the press, now can they? Randy takes a chopper to go play golf and it threatens to bring down the government. The boy parks a chopper at home to get to Preggy for the birth and it's money well spent. Now I ask you? How many serving in the mother-in-law's forces get that little perk? Exactly. Rank hath privleges and Randy Hath No Rank. What a hoot! Gave dear one the best chuckle in weeks. Had to ring up the OTH and have a good long poke at the baby brothers! Hell hath no fury like older siblings, I always say!



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


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

1 comment:

Susan said...

Love it again :) Seriously, I bet packing as a royal is a serious pain! And lol at the tampax voucher! Keep these up!