A right Royal knees-up


A nation holds its collective breath as one half of the country is gripped by Royal Wedding fever and the other decides to use the extra day off work to go shopping.

It’s a bit like that in The Enchanted Village. There will be those of us who will ignore all the fuss this Friday and instead climb up to Bluebell Hill. Our souls will vacuum up the carpet of loveliness in between the beech trees. And then we'll gaze out from the Scots pine to the sublime view across vale and sea.

I’d like to think that would be me: free spirit, free thinker and not even a conservative with a small ‘c’. But that’ll be the Sheepwash household then. A family of principles and no time for tosh.

And then there will be others, like the Griggs, the Bancrofts, the Champagne-Charlies and the Putters who will be rah-rah-rah-ing it in the village hall in the afternoon. We’ll have bunting, union flags and jelly and ice cream.

We’ll drink from pretty teacups collected by the elfin Tuppence, using teapots provided by Mr and Mrs Pope. There will be hats, mad hats, and general frivolity. Posh Totty ought to be there, in killer heels and a frilly frock, Mr St John in freshly-pressed shorts and Mr and Mrs Loggins in matching cummerbunds.

There’ll be a raffle with prizes provided by me – a bottle of Lambrini, fridge magnets, Easter eggs and commemorative mugs, including this little beauty, below, on the left.

Look closely...


...it’s showing the wrong prince.

I’d like to say I’m above all this royal-ness. I not too keen on the privileged few and certainly don’t like the hangers-on and have absolutely no time for silver spoon mentality.

However, this mad hatter’s tea party is actually my idea. I love any excuse to get people together, and Mr Grigg rises like a colossus when the word ‘party’ is mentioned. He is the host with the most.

And whilst I’ve been convincing myself I actually won’t be watching the Big Event in the morning, I shall be taking a sneak peep every now and then. I shall tell everybody I’m not that interested and only watching it to spot the dress made by my brother-in-law for a very important guest and seeing if I can make out my dear niece’s boyfriend banging on a side drum with the regimental band in the courtyard of Buckingham Palace.

But everyone loves a good wedding, don’t they? And this is history in the making.

So mad hats off to Wills and Kate. The cast of The Enchanted Village wishes them well.

That's about it.

Love Maddie x

Comments

  1. Could a british event ever be taken seriously without the presence of tea and jelly?

    ReplyDelete
  2. I was watching documentaries on the royals today in between studying for Spanish. I won't be getting up to watch the wedding (I imagine it'll be on replay for the whole of May), but I have been intrigued by the whole thing. I guess because of taking a western civilization class last year; I like to compare how the royal family has changed and stayed the same over the years.

    ReplyDelete
  3. How awful to be linked with one's brother-in-law for ever on a mug.

    I will be watching (like you, off and on - I don't think I could sustain the repetition involved in listening to the commentary every inch of the way) because, whether we like it or not, the pageantry, the crowds . . . all sorts of things I wouldn't take part in myself . . . are part of our history. Even grumbling about it is a tradition of our nation. It's one of the things which makes us . .

    . . . stupid? (British.) (No, English) . .

    ambiguous.

    Glad I'm not a prince.

    Esther

    ReplyDelete
  4. So the "wrong prince" ought to be a collectors' item at the very least, oughtn't it, if not an outright book or movie title?

    ReplyDelete
  5. They showed the wedding today at my daughters' US high school. Interest is high in the United States.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

And it's goodnight from me - I'm closing The World From My Window for the last time

Just like the Durrells, we moved from Dorset to Corfu, but eight decades later

Batten down those hatches, it's recycling day