Thursday, August 08, 2013

'Milla's Diary, week ending August 7, 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.

Copyright protected.


 

"Better a day late, than a pound short," I always say!

August 1, 2013

Simply MIRED in packing! Desperate for a fag cigarette and a drinkie, but soldiered on! Found the woolies Dear One likes for stalking--the pair that don't itch, of course, now it's off to locate that dear little "extra" flask he likes to fill with Old Grouse for the really, really rainy days. Then it's only the the navy to pack for the big bath tub up there and we should be ready for the off.

Simply EXHAUSTED by dinner time so I had them do up egg and chips and we watched telly. Dear One a bit grumpy over this as he'd gone to the trouble to dress for dinner. We WERE a sight! Me simply nackered from exertion in an ancient pair of shorts and a charity walk tee and Dear One done to the nines in Windsor Uniform, starched shirt and silk stockings, but thanksfully he saw the silly side of it!! I do so love it when this happens! Had a lovely time playing Lord-of-the-mannor and naughty chambermaid later! What a hoot! Just what I need to revive myself. After he'd nodded off I had a glorious soak in the tub with a positively antique Barbara Cartland I found wedged behind the box with Dear One's woolies.

August 2, 2013

Quite the kerfuffle brewing over the sprog's birth registration! Dear One on the line with the Mother-in-law and half a dozen QCs most of the morning. Apparently they put Yummy down as  "Princess," and of course she isn't. We're both of us merely duchesses--wives of HRHs. But the spectre of the imagined slight to SWMNBN reared its ugly head and before you can say "Sainted Granny" the nutters were out in force demanding an upgrade to Yummy's status. Seeing Dear One positively wilting with vexation on the phone I had the kitchen staff do up a rather grand luncheon--didn't tell him they sent the Filipino kitchen maid to nip round to a fancy restaurant and buy it all. Roast leg of organic lamb and all the trimmings. Dear One WAS impressed, I can tell you! In the newest economy drive, luncheon is generally beans on toast with one veg, fruit and water. We both tucked in like long-haul lorry drivers!

August 3, 2013

Lovely news this morning that Pip is alive and well again. Had a good chinwag on the mobile, brainbox firing on all cyclinders, all systems go for a change. So lovely. He's off to hell Balmoral to join the Mother-in-law and the dogs for the long holiday. Bit dicey, though, when he asked if I could get the twin Polish nurses onto the regular payroll somehow. Seems both are rather dab hands at the  sponge bath. Hated to disappoint him, but had to cry off. Didn't want to face the Mother-in-law when someone rats it out to her. They will, too. Those insipid little men who run her life. Rat him out for a bit of harmless slap and tickle with the bath sponge!

Finally had a few minutes to collect my own gear for the Great Trek North.. Barbour, husky, good riding boots, favorite cardi, woolies, extra woolies, long, warm nightie (for "afters"). Tossed a few cheap novels and my suduku books in for good measure and I'm set. Trying to work out a way to take the Filipino kitchen maid --she's so handy and its good to have an unmarked car to take out for little jollies when the Firm gets a tad oppresive. Word is Randy is coming. Haven't dared tell Dear One. Thankfully we don't stay AT Balmoral, so we'll have a little breathing room. HE, of course, has the room next to Mummy's, but then wouldn't he just? And little Edith, has the room next to Pip. Not sure where the wife goes. I wonder if they bring the props children? Might need to enquire. The one with the squinty eye sets Dear One's hackles up. Brings up all the horrors of his ears growing up. He's offered to pay, HIMSELF, to have the child's eye fixed, but the discussions go nowhere. Sad.

August 4, 2013

We're up at Granny's dear little Gothic bolt hole in the north of Scotland. Cold and Damp inside so we stay out doors where it's merely somewhat cold and damp. Of course, Dear One must have whinge about the demise of the yacht and the halcyon days of the family cruise up the coast to visit Granny. I can't imagine why he looks back on this fondly. From what old Nanny whosits shared with me on the last chartered cruise we were all forced to endure for family togetherness, it was up there with piles surgery in terms of joy-bringing qualities.  Randy and Edith vying for the parents' attention,  the OTH treating her hubby like an equerry (well, makes sense, he was one after all), the beasts corgis yapping and pissing and biting everywhere. Oh joy! Then add the Grands in and you've got something this side of a sink estate in terms of filial love and devotion. According to Nanny she took a valium and had a stiff drink approximately every hour.

Well, anyway, once I got him off the HMY Nostalgia for a while, I had a bit of a set-to with the Factor (yes, there's still a FACTOR in residence here) over the quality of the wi-fi. I'd been told it had been upgraded. I could have stood on the roof with frozen pie tin and got better reception than this miserable place gets. No Street. Hope the little Jap-lad in the garden got the dvr set right for me. I'd hate to miss an entire WEEK of the Street--could come back and find an entirely new cast....rather like Downton Abbey.


August 5, 2013

Off to Thurso on the Royal round. Not exactly lovely, but the visit was short. Dear One got to play with icing and do up cupcakes. Must remember to do this with the Grands! Looks tremendous fun. I always sent a Victoria Sponge and considered it duty done, but these days children expect ridiculous quantities of purple icing and their own little cake at each party. Such a lot of work! Can't imagine what one does to remove purple icing from an Aubusson rug, but I'm sure there's a note about it on Pinterest somewhere.




August 6, 2013

Lovely frigid morning here in the mists of the North! Two sets of woolies, my grandmother's substantial cadi (she was often up here at house parties), shooting socks, Wellies, a Husky AND a Barbour and a hip flask of something yummy and warming. Set for a good morning's walk. Lovely, nearly freezing rain, too! Dear One in his ELEMENT. Kitted out in kilts, huge sweater, stout shoes! Course he started whinging about the cold after approximately the second step. I did tell him the tweeds were a better idea. "No," he said, "no, this is SCOTLAND and Granny would expect me to wear my kilts." I suggested that since no one on Earth would be the wiser that he put on woolies and shove the legs up over his knees. You'd think Granny hereself had just reappeared! "If you wear something under it, darling," he said facetiously, it's a SKIRT." With that he flounced back into the house to have a long soak in the tub. The dogs and I had a glorious morning. What's a bit of rain? I always say.

Dinner couldn't have been lovely fresh salmon. Oh no! Sheep's guts. With a PIPER, if you please. Wanting to retch at the sght of the nasty thing harmony restored I made yummy noises and gagged the stuff down and for once quite enjoyed that nasty tasty organic free trade wine Dear One so loves. Since Dear One was still a bit put out over the woolies-under-a-kilt suggestion I had a grand time snuggled under four Eiderdowns with the dogs reading a racy old romance I found in the downstairs loo.

August 7, 2013

Another glorious day of fog and sog up here in the wilds of Northern Scotland. Dear One sulking. Apparently I somehow forgot the Fawlty Towers dvd. And, with no wireless, I couldn't save the day with the iPad. Seems Dear One and Granny always got squiffy and watched the German episode during these lovely little hols in hell. Can't wait. Yet another viewing. Oh hell, why not just shove Dad's Army into the antique VCR and be done with it. Too late I realized I'd said that OUT. LOUD. Yep, you guessed. All. night.long. Dad's Army. Without so much as a drinking game. I ask you? Is this grounds for divorce?


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

2 comments:

Susan said...

" ... both tucked in like long-haul lorry drivers" -- love it! You have the best phrases for Milla!

Jeanne said...

Can't wait to see what Milla thinks about Randy's wife accompanying him. What will Pip do? Hee hee. You are so naughty.