Need to catch up or know who is who? Check out the first installment of 'Milla's Diary.
I'll say this for
All set for a lovely lie-in this morning, when Dear One, who had got up hours earlier, came in DEMANDING I get up at once and come glory in the sunrise. I tried to grab my dressing gown, but he was rushing me and I was a teensy-bit hung over from last night's little drinking game. We were watching some
Word finally trickled thru the bush to
Tea was a giant grizzle. Dear One saying everything out of the corner of his mouth in that annoying gangster style. Couldn't understand a word he said. Didn't really matter. The 'Rents weren't listening. They never do. Not to him. Shut his speaker off years ago--both of them. Pip had the cricket going full volume on the big screen, while the Mother-in-law was watching Three Day Eventing on her iPad. Dear One sniffed a bit too often (it's the decades of dust in the place, you see) and Pip lobbed a linen hankie at him fiercely and said "For F___ Sake BLOW!" You can imagine the rest.
On the way out I sneaked Pip a care package to tide him over. A new girlie mag, one of the raspberry-filled chocolate bars he loves and couple of packets of smokey-bacon falavored crisps. God knows what the Gestapo is feeding him currently. Poor dear!
What a splendid day! Lovely rain--just perfect for a picnic. Dear One whinged a bit about being cold and snuffled adorably to try to get out of it, but I held firm. Off we went! The dogs ADORED it! Lovely puddles to play in and all Mummy's attention to bask in! Such a nice family day. Then Haza rang Dear One to tell him not to read a certain tabloid. Dear One's face got that look. The look he inherited from the Mother-in-Law. Bang goes the lovely picnic. Dear One in a rage over the idiocy of the press, the need for certain people in the family (nameless of course) to grow up and not even a wonderful cup of whiskey-laden boiling hot tea could calm him. Back we went to the house so he could scream at the PR Johnny over the secured landline till he was puce in the face. Well, I bathed the dogs--got them all nice and clean and warm, then settled into bed for a nice catch-up on the Street. Just as it was all getting juicey, Dear One stormed the room as though part of an invasion force, threw himself on my boobs, snuffled and screamed. Once I'd got his nose wiped and sang him the lovely little song about the Lady From Kent Whose Husband's Was..... he began to calm down. They really MUST listen to him. They are PAID. No one NO. ONE. pays him the slightest heed.
Well, I wasn't having the whole holiday sabatogued so I led him down to the study, took up the reciever and gave that PR Johnny a piece of my mind. With more than 30 years as an Army wife, Eton Mummy and Pony Club Officer I took no prisoners. It was suddenly VERY reasonable for them to listen intently to the bloody HEIR to the bloody THRONE for once! After we got his nose all wiped off again and I put on the Teddy Vaporizer that Nanny Whosists Swore by, then he got down to business on the phone as I patted his hand.
They must REALIZE that these weeks are the key to my SANITY. I don't "do" staff problems on holiday, I do staff firings on holiday! The PR chap shouldn't count on that new BMW next year--the payment scheme could become tricky to keep up with!
The holiday is officially over. Holiday from HELL now. The investigation people looking into the new conspiracy claims called and kept Dear One on the phone for HOURS. He was perishing for a drink, a pee and a a red pill all at once. Finally got that over with and the Mother-in-law calls. Lovely long lecture on leaving HER government alone. I swear she lets this stuff build ALL. YEAR. LONG. and then, THEN, when the poor lamb has five minutes of peace she just can't stop herself. She just has to show who wears the ermine in this family!
Got him tucked in with the PROPER Pooh blanket and Thomas the Tank Engine on the bedroom dvd for a jolly good sleep while I took the dogs for a nice walk. Ran into very worried security chaps. Pip has gone walkabout it seems. No one can find him. Had they checked to see if he'd taken a vehicle? Not allowed keys, I was told. I couldn't see that stopping him. After all the lass who keeps the spare keys at the estate office is comely, about a size 0 with boobs like mellons and he's good with that type. If it wasn't for ONE, how would these people solve problems? Sure enough, there was Pip, down the pub with the key girl. Relief flowed, especially after they learned she'd driven and wasn't a drinker. It was a World War II sing-song night for the OAPs so I stayed and got teary-eyed as Pip led them all in "White Cliffs of Dover." Kept asking where Maureen was--no clue. They do a fab curried chips down that pub and have excellent wi-fi. Our wi-fi works, but at the speed of an OPA with new trifocals. And, to top it off, they had a grand Sherry Trifle and, since it was OAPs and they're so all about anything free--they raffled off a dear little electric heater. I was hoping Pip would win and I could nip it into our car as soon as he forgot it (downstairs loo is an icebox), but some old dear with a blue rinse on her thinning hair won it. Pip got up to present it. Told her it was an MBE and she said how she was "ever so proud." Such a lamb.
Nanny arrived for her visit. Poor old dear, wasn't sure if it was Dear One or Randy. Really sad to watch them slip, I always say. Did Dear One a world of good. She read him Winnie the Pooh all afternoon and they had Ribena and biscuits after. So cozy. Cozy is always best for Dear One. He gave her a lovely new diamond pendant. Funny, seems last April all the Mother-in-Law got was a card and some of that Corugette Chutney that was marked down in his farm shop. I could be wrong. I didn't SEE another gift. I gave a her a lovely cardi from Harvey Nicks. Saw it later on a lady in waiting, but I made the effort, didn't I?
Had a lovely long natter on the mobile with my children--and the Grands, of course! Such lambs. Then a good long gossip with Haza. Hilarous stories that boy finds. Soldiers ARE such fun though. Nothing from the Boy and Yummy. Still playing Happy Families and instagramming nappy changes I suppose.
Day of Gloom--and an understandable one, too. 34th Anniversary of Uncle Dickie's murder. Dear One locked in the study with photo album and what he insists on calling the wireless blaring an opera broadcast. After an hour of that I was desperate, super-patch or no, for a