Well, we are here, and I am in bed in a very splendid hotel in Windsor.
It is very splendid indeed. Also I have had quite a lot to drink and am feeling a touch wobbly. I think this is a nice feeling. Also I am very tired indeed, so this might be a) a bit dull, and b) short.
We have eaten so much I am feeling most rounded, which is an unaccustomed feeling lately. I have been living on raw carrots and water melon, which has made no difference whatsoever to my actual roundness, but which leaves me with a feeling of unassailable virtue. After the last spoonfuls of chocolate pudding washed down with Prosecco, this feeling had completely vanished.
I hope I can fasten my dress tomorrow.
I have brought another, especially loose-fitting dress, just in case.
Actually I have accidentally brought all the clothes we own, just in case. I must have been in a bit of a state when I was packing. I was astonished at the weight of the suitcase when I tried to lift it this morning, it is a good job Number One Daughter does weightlifting.
It has been a very splendid day. As you know, we woke up in the camper van, which we followed with coffee and breakfast chez my parents, at which I drank so much coffee that I felt wobbly then as well, even though it was only ten o’clock and I was not intoxicated then.
Driving down was an adventure. I do not think I have ever ridden in the back seat of my taxi before, and suddenly I am not exactly surprised that occasionally customers are sick. I was not sick but that was because I had only had coffee, not six Jaeger Bombs and a couple of vodkas, and it was not the middle of the night down a very windy country road.
Somebody was sick out of the window on Saturday night. Mark washed it off the passenger door when I got home. Sometimes customers are not loveable.
I spent the time answering emails and arguing with the bank, which made the journey go so fast I hardly noticed it at all, and in any case it was only three hours, which compared to the trek up to the Arctic circle for Gordonstoun was practically across the road. Then we were here, and to our very great happiness, half of the family was already thoroughly settled in the hotel’s sunny back yard, having already finished their first Malbec.
We did not even bother to unpack. We just joined in.
It was lovely. Number Two Daughter is here from Canada. She arrived with my brother. They went to Legoland first and sent us a picture so we would think they had gone to the wrong place, and I was in such a state of flappiness it took me some time before I realised it was a joke.
Number One Daughter arrived afterwards, with Number One Son-In-Law and Ritalin Boy, and then there was the nicest thing. They had brought flowers and home-made cakes for us. Number Two Daughter had helped to make the cakes last night, and they were so staggeringly beautiful you would never have believed that they hadn’t been hand made by the King’s own pastry chef. The flowers are in a sort of hat box shaped tub, and I keep looking at them anxiously in case they are getting too warm, because it is very warm here in the south, but they are not wilting. They are small and pretty and perfect.
I have got very splendid children. I have been marvelling at this, quietly to myself, all day. I think I am very fortunate indeed.
It is very warm indeed. We are going to be melting tomorrow.
By this time tomorrow I will have watched the King give a medal to Number One Daughter, although I expect he won’t say Please thank your mother for all of her letters, and indeed, we don’t even know if it will be the King or his very nice sister, or even poor Prince William, who has gone bald far too young. You can tell in the morning because the castle flies the Royal Standard if the King is there, but only if it is windy. It is not windy so we will just have to guess.
I am going to go to sleep.
Tomorrow I will tell you all about it.
