Thursday, February 06, 2014

'Milla's Diary, week ending 5 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.


30 January 2014

Things have gotten a bit shaky with this little Diary as we endured the family holiday. Now that we are back at the Mausoleum and on the Royal Round again I hope to be a bit more up-to-date.  I spent the day with a lovely group of old Dears (and a few young-ish ones as well) who give tirelessly to others. Really makes one proud to be British--this sort of "do.." Sadly, I came home to the children staff squabbling over nothing as usual. Dear One was out trumping up enthusiasm for that culinary malignancy, hospital food, so I was alone to sort out the various gripes, grieveances and pettiness per usual. It's always One who must sort things, isn't it? So while Dear One put forth a lovely sounding trumpet call for edible food to enable a full recovery for all hospital-bound patients, I went tong and bones with the Butler over the fact that, no ACTUALLY, he wasn't yet owed a mental health day. And, yes FRANKLY, it was more than fine to bring in his Union steward and, if he'd be so kind, to haul in the tea tray with him! Honestly, my children at the end of the long summer's hols were easier than this lot! Tea was cold, so just to be jolly I sent it back. He sulked. I preened. The Union steward had the cheek to ring my mobile. I told Scotland Yard it was a prank caller and they were at his door step in minutes. Seems the Butler is quite able to cope now. All thanks to One.

31 January 2014

Dear One a bit "chesty" as Nanny would say. Needed no end of jollying to get him out to the car this morning. Managed to get a smirk out of him as I read aloud the continuing story of the nutter who claims he's late Aunt Margo's love child, but nothing much else. Finally grumped his way to the car, where the chauffeur had the gaul to present him with a SPRING TIME lap robe, if you please! I have talked and talked with these people! But they will put their backs up and forget TRADITION. In the winter it is the Balmoral hunting tartan, if you please, not the white nanny shawl-ish one. Honestly! Holidays are simply not worth it when one must start anew at square one with the same staff that's been here since Ted Heath was P.M. You would think they would CARE just a bit? Apparently not. Not very Carson of them, if I do say so.

The Boy rang in distress after dinner. Yet another so-called "friend" selling his Mother out. We both spoke with him. It is so heartless to drag these young men thru this. It's no good saying "ignore them"--they simply can't. It's their mother. Plus he's on his agriculture course and Yummy and the Baby are jetting off for a holiday with her folks. A week of husbandly deprivation--never good with young husbands (or 60-ish ones, either). We, of course, invited him to come here for the time being, but it won't help. He spoke to Dear One privately for over an hour. Poor lambs. Haza hasn't phoned, but I know he must be hurting, too, and being stuck at a desk right now, his mind will have too much time to dwell on it. He needs action to distract him, our Haza. Only hope there are no disasters while he's brooding over it all. The press is so determined to marry him off right now--doesn't bode well. I told Dear One to get him round for tea and a lovely look-thru of the albums. He agrees it's likely time for some TLC. And, this is the man branded as not a good father! I ask you!

1 February 2014

Went down to the country for the weekend this morning. Lovely ride with Dear One though the weather was foul and his chest is still full. Horses wonderfully playful! Delightful morning. Had a lovely lunch a deux of organic-everything shepard's pie, mash and gravy. Dear One tucked in like a long-haul lorrie driver, which did my heart good. Then I tucked him up with a good book and something from Elgar on the sound system (or hi-fi as he still calls it) while I caught up the Street on my iPad. The grands sent me photos of their latest artwork--one of them really does have promise, I must say! But there you go--a proud Granny nattering away on the grands! What a hoot!

Dinner with old friends--just the four of us and too much wine. We watched "In Which We Serve" for the zillionth time. I have to wonder--did people just not WANT to see that Noel Coward had not the slightest chemistry with his on-screen "wife?" Of course today he'd out-do Sir Elton in the campy department. Talks so fast in the film I almost wanted the subtitles switched on. Afterward, we all took a stroll down memory lane with the album of Uncle Dickie's life. Lovely evening. So peaceful and reassuring for Dear One. Lovely to have such caring friends.

2 February 2014

Skipped Divine Service for a nice lie in and a full English breakfast in the morning room later. Dear One rarely eats all this--those ceremonial uniforms cost the Earth! but today he enjoyed the lot--both black AND white pudding--organic, of course. Yum, I must say! Of course I washed mine down with a stiff g & t since Sundays do tend to drag a bit. He was too congested for a ride so I headed out with one of the grooms. Lovely snot-freezing weather as the ex used to always say. Came home to find him setting up the tv trays for a pub-ordered lunch! Grand curry chips and huge lamb burgers. Marvelous with a pint of local stout! He's such a lamb...er, such a "dear" I suppose would be better considering the menu! Then of course he WOULD put on the Kumars yet again. Still, it isn't every day he does the tv trays, so I rewarded him by watching a full hour (to which I could recite EVERY. WORD. of the dialogue) before checking in on the Street with iPad and ear buds. We packed tea for the car and headed back to the city with the idea of being "in" for dinner. Good thing we had sandwiches, et al, in the car--we finally made it thru the nightmare of traffic and arrived home at 9 to find my dinner order had been "lost." Yes, "lost" was  the butler's word.  Mind you, he ASKED to be left in London, insisted the Under Butler have a turn at the country house, but he "lost" the dinner order. I got the Union Steward on HIS mobile at his mistress's flat and raised bloody hell. A pizza arrived shortly thereafter and was conveyed to us on a George III silver platter and served on the gold plate. Roasted veggie, in case you wondered, with that califlower crust that all the Pinterest Mummy's are so on about. Not half-bad. The bread sticks were limp and the salad was only iceberg lettuce with bottled slosh for dressing. Still, Dear One knocked back a few drinkies and declared it all delightful.

Had a lovely soak with Dear One and the Navy, but the torpedo practice was scuttled owing to a hydraulics failure. Poor lamb. It truly is HELL getting older.

3 February 2014

B.P. [Buckingham Palace] has advised us (and the world) that the Mother-in-law and Pip will be attending the 70th anniversary of D-Day this summer. Possibly to be honored as the last living veterans of that august conflict? Dear One had his say on this, you may be sure. Pip spent most of the holidays being a burr under Dear One's saddle so then endless kudos to Daddy and Mummy just for continuing to live is starting to, well for want of a better word, rankle. Even though it is heartbreaking for him to see the funerals practiced, he'd just once like to be seen as WORTHY of succeeding them. Won't happen and I know it, but there you are. He said years ago that at no time in his life did he feel he was anything but a disappointment to Pip and scarcely more than that to the Mother-in-law. Given the way they feast on Randy and Edith's non-accomplishments, I'm afraid I must agree with him. So sad--so needlessly sad. But with his late Granny preening over him every second, as a parent, I can see how that would wear on Mummy and Papa no end.

To buck him up, I had the Fillipino kitchen maid slip the prize from my cornflakes box into his Musseli. He was so chuffed! It takes so little some days--and that's yet another reason why the situation with the royal 'rents is so frustrating. A word of simple praise. A WORD. But no.....

4 February 2014

News Flash: Mother Carries Child and Her Hair Stays Glossy! Honestly! Didn't we all live thru this when the Boy was a baby? Must we repeat the sins of earlier generations and turn Yummy into a Vapid Clothes Horse, too? SWMNBN WAS NOT such a being at the start--I know, I spent time with her. So why can't royal women (except yours truly of course--I dare you to find photos as bad of Yummy or SWMNBN as are routinely published of ME!) be seen as women--with a brain, a plan, a mission that is about more than hemlines of hairstyles? Leave that to the Spanish stick woman, if you please. Let our darling Yummy be the University-educated successful young Yummy Mummy that she is. The press are really on my list at the moment.

Randy phoned and instantly set Dear One off into one of Grandpapa's Gnashes. Maybe that tic-tock thing worked for Granny, but this wife has to sling massive quantities of expensive Scotch to tame one of those furies. The gist of Randy's call was that his darling daughters should be part of the Royal Round. He's only called with this, what? monthly? since, oh, 1991. It seems the eldest was not cut out for the city--imagine that, she has her father's brain! And the youngest has now upset Granny by being photographed with a relative of Elvis. (Personally, I'd put that on the plus side, but there you are!). So as Dear One, in his Patient Papa voice, explained to little brother for the millionth time that it simply WAS NOT ON, Randy flounced off the phone (yes, it IS possible, although normally it is Edith doing the flouncing) and in moments the Mother-in-law rang up. As the vein began throbbing in Dear One's head I thought of medical marijuana (so fun at my Deb parties!) but thought better of it and sloshed more Scotch into the William IV tumbler in Dear One's hand. Then I massaged his temples as he spoke VERY. CAREFULLY to Mummy. Remarkably, he won. She agreed. The Mother-in-law AGREED with her ELDEST son and heir! He noted it in his diary, I assure you. Not five minutes later Pip rang thru with his take on the whole thing. Joy. Rapture. Wins with Mummy, then surely will be shot down by Papa. No! Pip actually told him his argument was very sensible. "Sensible." What are the odds? We went upstairs to happily note that the hydraulic dysfunction had been sorted. What a hoot!

5 February 2014

It was all too good to last, of course. Initialed memo arrived in Red Box for Dear One who had spent the day touring flooded areas. "Remember Uncle David and the Miners." Cryptic to some, but dead clear to Dear One. Not another round of a royal promising "Something Must be Done." He slammed the study door and blared, to my complete amusement, The Rolling Stones on the hi-fi. I've never known him to listen to such music! Had no idea we owned it or I'd have played it when I was alone. About the 37th playing of "Satisfaction," though I begin to feel like the  Mummy of a raging teenage boy again. As I was headed for the breaker box in the cellar, he finally switched it off and came out quite jolly and boozy. His moment of parental approval had vanished as suddenly as it came. Things were "normal" again. It was time for "cozy." We had a lovely Downton-ish dinner on the George II china in the dining room with that tasteless superb free-everything (flavor free especially) wine he adores and a very nice bit of fish with a something- (kumquat? marrow?   juniper berries?) reduction and organic Canadian wild rice. I believe it was a Sainsbury's take-away, but I kept that knowledge to myself in the interest of a peaceful evening. We caught up Strictly, which languished over the holiday, and then popped off to sleep about 11.

2 comments:

Susan said...

Oh my, these are so fun! I wonder if "Milla" does sneak a peek at Pinterest now and then??? And I found myself thinking it was so sweet of Charles going over photo albums with the boys -- I hope that one's true! Agree that poor Milla has gotten some rough treatment from the press.

Hopewell said...

I hope it's true, too, about the album. From what we see, he does have a real and loving relationship with his sons. So much so that Earl Spencer said it was not "necessary' for him to take part in his nephews' upbringing.