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.
September 19, 2013
Another glorious day hibernating with Dear One, the dogs and the Street. Got Dear One to go for a lovely long ramble in the afternoon when it was only a lovely rain and not near sleet, which for some reason he always finds off-putting. I never have understood it. Other than that he's suitably mad for the out-of-doors like any good Englishman or Scotsman.
After he went up to the Castle to visit with a dignitary I had a lovely scrounge in the attic and unearthed a first edition of a Barbara Cartland's first ever novel! What a hoot! Dogs gave it a very long sniff, then a very wide berth but it's good so far. Had to cut off the fun and run up to the Castle for tea, meet-and-greet and ultimately a very bad and very dull dinner with a the premier of some ex-colony in the Antipodes--not sure which. New Zealand? Who knows unless you're told to rub noses. His was running, poor lamb, so I was a bit grateful we were stuck in our own culture.
September 20, 2013
Traumatic day. Dear One now the oldest heir to the throne ever or at least in ten centuries or some such. Tried to cheer him up by having breakfast in bed with him in my best tiara and that filmy royal purple nightie he's so found of. Apparently the Kiwi dinner left him a bit indisposed though so he had to rush madly to the loo. Poor lamb. Shoved matches under the door for him, opened the windows and pressed on as though nothing was wrong. Let him wallow on my boobs for a while and got the horrid pink liquid nanny swore by for tummy trouble down him. Agreed to watch Mummy's Coronation film again. Bores me to tears, but he was so sweet in his little white silk shirt! Of course he had to whinge, all these decades later, about the horrid haircut he'd been given which necessitated all the shimmering hair goo that held his cowlicks down.
He did get a tremendous kick out of some rag calling the new grandson the most "influential person" in London. Rather like that time as a preschooler when he was put on the world's best dressed "men" list! What a hoot! He had quite a jolly from it.
September 21, 2013
Dear One up at the Castle shooting grouse with the Kiwi so I slipped off down the pub. Nice crowd down there. Sat at the Grannys table again. Muriel had new snaps of the Grands down under--daughter immigrated I understand. Smashing snaps.
Dear One home rather quiffy and very tired after shooting with his father. As predicted, Pip was on form and handed round, What Else???, the dreaded Cherry Brandy. He is like that! Gnaws a joke to death, our Pip. Dear One forced to take it politely due to the official visitor.When he got in we shared a lovely hot bath with the entire navy at sea amongst us. Did him a world of good.
September 22, 2013
D-Day! Downton Abbey premier. We dressed to the nines, had the best champers and a lovely bit of rare roast beef and all the trimmings for it. Dear One in his lovely Windsor Uniform, me in a favorite evening gown and masses of jewelry ala old Queen Mary. Simply grand. Cried buckets over darling Matthew.
Dear One though got a bit sidetracked. He feels things so deeply, you see. Some servant or someone in one of the last workhouses in one scene. Really does take a while for the trickle down to penetrate his brain sometimes. He honestly was ready to mount yet another call for their return. I ask you? Work houses? Not in the mood for a special snowflake sermon I simply said "lovely, darling" and cranked up the volume a notch or two. Well! He flounced out like poor Sir Anthony at his wedding! Since it was being digitally recorded, I went after him and found him bristling as he hunted through his vinyl opera lps seeking the right one for what he insists on calling the "hi-fi..." (A step up in language, I suppose, from the Gramophone!). Finally gave in and listened like a loving wife to his little diatribe even though the vein did begin to throb. (Must remember to slap on new nico patch in the morning and count the estrogen tablets again.) Got him back in good humor, with the promise of a little naughty-naughty on the backstairs later on. He does love Costumed anything bless him.
September 23, 2013
Haza rang. He's been rather quiet. Off to a wedding with Mummy's side it seems. Lovely knees up apparently. Wants help in case a little darling called "Samantha" or "Cassandra" or something like that follows thru with a threat to send Dear One photos. They, apparently, were photoshopped. Doesn't want Dear One popping an artery at him again. Really, his trousers were on and fastened. Well, at least the were as long as he was coherent. Soldiers! One does so want to Mother him! Such fun he always has. We decided less said, soonest mended. He's promised to pop round and watch an episode of something Shakespearean with Papa as his penance. Good lad.
September 24, 2013
Off on the Royal Round today, opening a lovely new cancer unit. So wonderful to see the work people do. Sincerely damned hard working people our nurses. Deserve much more than they get, too.
Later I took Pip down the cinema for OAP day. It was "Mama Mia" yet again! They were all waving their walking frames and singing along. What a hoot!! Pip, as always, trotted back and forth to the loo and the old Dear on the other side of me had gas that would put a race horse to shame, but it was a grand time. Found Pip chatting up the manager of the place--a youngish woman of about 35, blonde, busty--just his sort. She'd made him a cuppa and was listening to a description of some naval battle in the war. Must have been tired today. A Cuppa and the war isn't his usual approach to such women. Got him a lovely sarnie on the way home and one of those big fizzy drinks the mother-in-law disapproves of so heartily. After two gulps I understand why. Won't be doing that again. Of course he excused himself each time--he is a gentleman--but all that belching.....after the gas attack in the cinema. Didn't apologize, just ran the windows down and gunned the car for a while. Noticed his lips going blue and teeth chattering and figured it was safe to put them up at last. Makes me miss Daddy, these little outings.
September 25, 2013
Spent the morning mostly on the mobile. Dear Ceilia has received divorce proceedings from her Reg. Unbelievable. Married in 1970 and he's found, get this, a younger woman. He's close to 80! Younger means....50? No--37 if she's a day. And stacked. Apparently she's enceinte! Old fool believes it's really his! Dear One did hilarious imitation of the supposed conception at bedtime. Drops in my knickers--he's killingly funny like that. Then we got on to hilarious birth control devices of the past and finally to a conversation he overheard as a boy of about 13. Mummy threatening to remove a part of Daddy apparently. Well, I ask you? It's a rare wife who hasn't had that thought, isn't it? Good for the m-in-law, I say! Must have been when she discovered dear Edith was on the way.
Spent the rest of the day snuggled up in bed with Dear One having a rare mid-day snorefest, dogs between us, ipad and ear buds for the street and the rest of the Barbara Cartland. The Masuleum and the royal round loom large, so I spent part of the evening doing the initial packing. Sent the jewelry down to the palace with the mother-in-law's red boxes and got the fishing gear stowed away since Dear One announced he was done for the Season. Got the good kilts to the Cleaner's in town since they do us a lovely discount and have BOGO vouchers for the Indian place. Convinced Dear One his tummy was ok again and we could have a lovely madras curry and naan for dinner. Worked a treat! Watched the Kummars for the zillionth time--the one with the caldron of Sanjeev's nappies--always my favorite Granny Kummar line!