Thursday, February 27, 2014

'Milla's Diary, week ending 26 February 2014

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.

19 February 2014.

Randy's Birthday, in case you forgot! Still time to rush him a pressy.

Can't believe how muddled my brain gets these days! Completely forgot to record Dear One's departure for the Middle east on Monday! For once the stars aligned and he went off on his solo Middle East tour without a grumble! He really is such a lamb! The valet had the super cool, sweat-wicking pants all packed so he wouldn't, hopefully, acquire any more unsightly rashes like on our trip to India last year. Took ages for THAT one to clear up, I can tell you! I normally hate to send him to face the wolves a foreign tour alone, but I simply don't shift gears between English winter and intense Equatorial  heat as well as I may have once done. Plus, who down there will miss an aging second wife? They don't miss their own, do they? Not very P.C. of me, but there you have it!

With Dear One away I spent the evening babysitting the Grands. What fun!! We read bits of storybooks, watched bits of videos, had a few wobblies and generally had a marvelous time. They are growing up simply too, too fast! How many times did I try to call them by one of my own children's names. Life goes by too fast! Scrummy dinner left by my son and some fabulous wine! So fabulous I polished off the entire bottle myself and debated texting for permission to open bottle two, but declined. What if one of the Grands had a true emergency? Of course my protection officer would drive, but I don't need that sort of "abuse of privilege, old broad's a boozer" trip in the press, do I? Once the Grands were down for the night, I caught up the 'Street and played Suduko on the iPad. I do so LOVE that game! Wonderful stress relief and even more fun when one is a few shades to the wind--one no longer cares what the real solution to the puzzle is! What a hoot!

20 February 2014

Edith and the wife put their feet into the fire. Really! When even the Boy and Yummy can fly commercial you'd think the 8th, 9th, and 10th (or whatever they currently are) in line to the throne could simply do so? You would, wouldn't you. But you'd be wrong! No, our Edith flounces out onto a private jet to go for a ski holiday like he was a film star! Hate to be Pip this morning when the paper hit the Mother-in-law's breakfast tray. Scathing comments on the web at least (which is where I get my news, of course. The iPad is so handy when one is jugling a fag cigarette, morning tea and an eggy toast soldier).

Went over the BP to take the dogs for a long ramble in the gardens, then parked them with the equerry's room and went up to see how Pip was faring after the Edith debacle. Surprisingly, he and the Mother-in-law were in one accord! "Bloody stupid" was all I got out of him. Not a long visit as they were heading off to Windsor early for the weekend. Good to see them taking time for each other. The Mother-in-law was ranting at him to get a move on and he was ranting back about the car not being ready yet and so forth. So marvelous the interest the still take in each other. Really restores one's faith in marriage.

21 February 2014

With Dear One taking an extra day on the tour, I grabbed the mobile and arranged a flying visit down to my bolt-hole to visit friends. Made it down to the village to lunch with Sylvia at the pub. All sorts of old friends had been tipped off to come for lunch and a nice long natter. So reviving to see REAL friends and just be myself. Spent the rest of the day with the Grands--off for a long jaunt with the dogs, leading reign rides on a borrowed and very agreeable pony. Heavenly! For dinner I did a grand fry up of just about anything British and Breakfasty and we all tucked in with true gusto. No idea what wine goes with a fry up so we had gin! What a hoot! Once this lot of grands departed, Syvia, Jane and Marilyn (whom I have not seen in literally DECADES---husband is foreign office, you see, they've been in some Godforsaken place for years apparently) came round to watch a video and drink even more! We sent out for pizza, but it took ages to coordinate the pizza selection with everyone's medically ordained diets, what doesn't "agree" any more with aging tummies, or what the personal trainer prefers one to eat. Finally just said "sod it" and got one loaded with everything bad then threw caution to the wind and got a double order of chips too!  Best night I've had in YEARS!

23 February 2014

Forgot to record anything yesterday. Enough said, I suppose on the day!!

Dear One arrived and came straight out to the country to rest. I hated to leave my home, but ours is very comfortable as well. Cleared up the mess from the grands and the girls and headed over to make everything ready for Dear One. A new ship for the navy to christen (always a lark!), the usual comforts--Teddy, the proper Pooh blanket, the Kumar's dvds and Elgar cds were all at the ready. A lovely luncheon ordered from a local well-regarded free-everything type place ordered to spare myself a big staff drama-fest, myself with hair under control and a neat trouser suit on instead of my usual jeans and fleece. Dear One so very happy to be home, but still shivering visibly from the instant change back to winter. Whisked him straight up to the tub for a good long soak and the bottle of bubbly for Christening HMS Louis of Battenberg. He loved it! Thrilled literally to bits, but the torpedo practice wasn't on. It just wasn't. Poor lamb, tours are SO exhausting. Lunch went down a treat with the Kumars, but he nodded off before the pudding. I covered him up with the proper Pooh blanket and left the Kumars to continuously play and went for a lovely walk with the dogs.

Came in as the under-Butler was trying to rouse Dear One to speak to Edith on the secure land line. I swear the poor man really has 4 children, not two--Randy and Edith are always on to him if there's trouble with Mummy and Papa. I woke Dear One, then ripped into Edith while waiting for Dear One to have a pee and grab a stiff drink. Just who did I think I was? He asked in that very flouncy tone of his. "You know damned well." He sniffed at this! Sniffed! I ask you! Probably had his hand the wrong way on his hip as he said it. Dear One took the phone and his side of the conversation was something like "I see" and "yes, I see" and "well, if you think that's wise....." Turns out the lad had got both barrells from Pip for his little private jet ski jaunt. Honestly, what did he think would happen? The press Johnnies are screaming about "carbon footprint," "waste of taxpayers money" and all the rest! Why the OTH took HER children on package ski tours every year and they had the sort of trip children that age enjoy! Dear One, still saying "if you say so" and the like well into hour two shook his glass for more and I rushed him the bottle. Finally rang off and said words I rarely hear from his mouth and a bit too blue to reprint here. Then he started to laugh. And then bark with laughter and then squeeze the scepter and run for the loo he was laughing so hard. The "Little Prince" as he often calls Edith, had had his orbs nailed to the wall by Mummy after Papa had worked him over. So fun! We celebrated right there in the sitting room--what a hoot!

24 February 2014

Gave the staff a holiday so we could have peace. I made us a lovely fry up--Dear One usually doesn't touch the stuff, but given the night we'd had he enjoyed it. Slipped a bit of vodka in the orange juice and it perked him up no end! We went for a long ride, very well bundled up of course, then came in to read by the fire. Lovely. Dear One gave himself an hour of pleasure reading then started in tackling all the official stuff. Later we worked together on our prep for the upcoming joint visits. Rather like Sunday evening prep at boarding school, but pleasant enough at our age.

As we were setting in for a pub lunch (delivered, of course) the phone rang. Not good. Since it was the "bat phone" from the Palace I covered the food and he answered  it. Pip, with brain box out-of-gear was ringing to see when Dear One was coming down from school. To say Dear One looked shocked was an understatement. "Papa?" was about all he said. He motioned for me and I took the phone, but Pip didn't understand. Finally a terse female voice said, "Give me that!" and the Mother-in-law came on and told us to wait. In the background we heard her calming him so sweetly. Bringing him gently back to the present--he really IS in the present nearly all of the time, but at 92 the gears just slip, don't they? Finally he remembered who, what and where and asked why she was holding the phone--hang it up already! Relief, Pip was back. The next line was even more of a shocker, "So sorry to bother you [Dear One] darling. It's only Papa having a 'moment,' sorry to intrude on your Sunday. Lovely job on the tour, dear." And with that the line went dead. It's so hard  when they age, isn't it? We may fight tooth and nail with the parents but in the end they ARE the parents. Dear One went off to his study to shuffle papers and recover. I comforted myself with calls to my brother and then to my sister and my children.

25 February 2014

Called Pip and he was back to normal. His mother's birthday. So sweet that even at 92 it is still meaningful. Haza phoned at breakfast--papers are going to say he's engaged, someone tipped him off. Dear One tries to stay out of Haza's romantic life, remembering all too well the machinations of his own family in his. Still, it is a good time in his Army career to marry--he's stuck at a desk for a few years and that will give time to settle in, but I really don't know. Dear One looked tense after the phone call, Still, they haven't even moved in together, and that's almost a requirement today. But, Dear One WILL worry.

Spent the afternoon trying not to drink, but smoking a packet of fags cigarettes to prepare for my dinner speech. It went well, but I was completely knackered by the end. Dear One very sweet about it all--he knows I hate speech-giving. On my pillow were lovely gourmet chocolates and a new Pound Shop suduku book! What a lamb!

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