A New Elizabethan

I was thinking, sitting here in warm and almost-sunny Redmond, what does it feel like to be British? I get asked some wonderful questions by Americans I meet that lead me to think that they are far more patriotic than I am - and I'm talking Royalty.

I dig deep to recall why, having fought a civil war and established a republic, we went back to crowning somebody. I may have embellished my story-telling somewhat, for which I apologise, but Regicide, Restoration, Glorious Revolution and Abdication were all a long time ago, and I am a little fuzzy around the edges when it comes to facts. But, you know, I get by: nobody  complains.

My late father, whom I loved deeply and miss terribly, was a red-hot socialist and would hear nothing good said about Monarchy, but nevertheless, when Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth Ii visited Gloucester in 1955, we were lining the route. I was lifted up to see this lovely lady in a sea-green coat and hat, waving a gloved hand in my direction, smiling broadly... . 

I could take you to the very spot, opposite the war memorial and monument to 'The Glosters', adjacent to Gloucester Park.

But I wasn't impressed. I was only four years old, , but I remember bursting into tears and yelling, 'She innt a queen! She annt got a crown on!' 

At school, we were pretty much all enrolled in a 'National Savings Scheme'. We bought savings stamps. The shilling stamps had the face of the boy prince, Charles, on them, the sixpenny ones, the adorable  baby Princess Anne, with a head full of bubbly curls. I envied those curls, but console myself that she grew up to look like a horse, and I didn't.

I was born a Georgian, actually, in 1950, becoming an Elizabethan when King George VI died in 1952. That Royal Tour of the new queen, is one of my earliest memories. 

Jean, in her forties, lives in a specialist care home for adults with learning difficulties. She adores the queen and regularly writes to her, with the help of my husband who tutors her. 

Of all the stories of the diligence and dedication to duty that are told about Queen Elizabeth II, HERE's one to add to it... 

Jean writes to the Queen about everything that affects her, and the Queen writes back! Can you believe that? To be more accurate, one of her Ladies in Waiting does - a personal message, from the Queen's office, to a lady whom hardly anybody cares about, sad to say. 

That's what keeps me from being a Republican. We have a Head of State that has time to read Jean's letters. 

I was there!:

http://www.britishpathe.com/video/gloucester-acclaims-queen-and-duke/query/37+55

Born To This

It's Sunday, and I'm catching up on my emails. Thankfully, I am no longer being offered enhancements to a member I do not possess, or low-cost pharmaceuticals that I do not need, and it's even been a while since an over-familiar Nigerian has attempted to make me a wealthy woman.

I say, 'thankfully', but on the quiet I am a little disappointed, because much of the colour and interest has gone from my epostal existence.

I am left to muse over the offerings I have freely signed up for, and am thinking I could, if I totally lost my senses, sign up for a few more... But, there's fun to be had with what I have:

"Have you ever felt like the world simply isn't ready for the work you were meant to do? Like the role you were born to fill simply isn't considered possible by society?"

Oh YES!! I am pretty certain the world isn't ready for the work I was meant to do. There is one, no, there are two, good reasons why the world isn't ready.

One, I no longer wish to do any work at all, and two... Heck, I've already forgotten what 'two' is, I'll get back to you on that one.

But what a lovely thought! I could, at the click of a mouse and a complete rethink of my philosophy, become so utterly egocentric as to believe that the world gives a green fig about what my life's purpose is!

That this rethink in my philosophy is to be nurtured by bunging $300 in the direction of th e sponsoring organisation is neither here nor there, as I do not splash out on enlightenment. I am as enlightened as I can handle at the moment, and I'm profligate with it, and all for free!

I am intrigued though. WHAT role could there possibly be that, 'Isn't considered possible by society.'?My mind boggles. I am racking my brains... I have to assume that this reputable group isn't tempting me to anything deadly or illegal, so what's left?

I did, for a brief spell last Tuesday, consider getting the gear out and dancing in the streets to test that Iranian cleric's assertion that under-dressed and over-stimulating women cause earthquakes. Frankly, it was too cold, and I have my chest to think about.

I waited in all morning on Thursday to invite the Jehovah's Witness in for a chat, but none turned up. On Friday, I walked round Gloucester Park looking for the oak tree planted by Queen Mary in 1902 ( I WILL find it!) On Saturday, I planned to walk with the National Trust on May Hill to listen to the dawn chorus, but dropped out on the grounds of a hangover...

'What conclusions,' I muse, 'Am I to draw from the random aimlessness, and haphazard failure, of my enterprises this week?'

None. None whatever. I may very well have found the role I was born to fill in society. That of just being, just doing, and then sitting down on Sunday and having a good laugh about the beautiful pointlessness and glorious absurdity of it all.