A proposal for the Royals

You must have seen the news today that Harry and Meghan’s home, Frogmore Cottage, in Windsor has been renovated at a cost of £2.4m all funded by the taxpayer. Apparently the Duke and Duchess did pay for some fittings – the bath taps etc. The former ‘Suits’ star must be thinking that this Royal family gig is a right proper wheeze. The property, which is actually 5 separate cottages,  has been converted into one substantial home. It was given to them by the Queen. Gratis. And now all the cost of the work to knock down and install new walls, replace rotten timbers, roof repairs, a total re-wire, and new electricity, water and gas supply, has been paid for by, well, you and me.  And this is on top of the £4m cost it took to create an apartment for them out of offices at their last home in Kensington Palace, also provided her Maj. Clearly that wasn’t good enough for them but let’s hope this place will be, once it’s all finished (we still have to pay for all the external and internal paintwork, garden re-landscaping, new driveways etc of course!)…

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Royal flush

Ah now look at that. There’s a picture of the Queen, laughing for a change, and the reason was that her horse, Estimate, had just won the Gold Cup at Ascot. Now I’m not much of an avid royalist as regular readers will know but I can’t be alone in thinking that the media went overboard with its royal adoration at this momentous event.

not so dumb royals

I think I told you earlier that I’m helping out at my super son-in-law’s super film company a couple of days a week. One of the nice things about the assignment is that our offices are superbly located virtually overlooking Buckingham Palace, home of course to Phil and Lizzie Windsor and their dysfunctional brood of liggers. You musn’t let my affection for our wonderful Royal family get in the way of a good view. You see whilst I am responsible for dragging the average age in the office up from a youthful 23 to something closer to 50, I was very lucky to have been assigned a desk by the window. Old man’s privilege. And over the last few weeks I’ve witnessed several Changes of the Guard and thousands of ordinary people dolled up in their finest togs waiting patiently in line to join Her Maj at one of her garden parties. But those queues are nothing compared to the ones which have begun this last week to go and visit ‘that dress’.

unlikeable lassies

I think most people who know me will appreciate that there aren’t many women I don’t like – as a sex I find them fascinating. Men are simple souls and it’s easy to know who’s good company and who isn’t; who I like and who I don’t. I’ve got around 20 good friends who are blokes and that’s pretty much as many as I need. Women though are different; they’re subtle, complex, vulnerable but strong, deep, generously-spirited, engaging and v different. Not sure I’ll ever fully understand women but I like them. Clothes shopping and watching major sporting occasions with them is trying (and being married with 3 grown-up daughters means I’ve done a lot of that) but I still wouldn’t want to not have women in my life for longer than an hour or so. So why is that that some women drive me nuts?

national dirges

Is it just me or are most national anthems just awful and uninspiring? I think that’s been the problem in the RWC for some of the teams. They get all pumped up in the dressing room, hearts pounding, full of Churchillian words from the coach and they burst out onto the pitch and …..then have to line up to sing the obscure words to some bloody dreary dirge with a roving camera stuck in their faces. It’s got to be deflating, embarrassing and bloody annoying unless you’re a true patriot and can sing reasonably well.