It may be slightly sad and horribly wrong to admit it publicly, but I loved the Royal Wedding.
(this does make me chuckle so)
Having accidentally booked the caravan site for the second Easter week, it subsequently occurred to me that that particular weekend included the Royal Wedding. Following a brief moment of panic, calm was restored upon the realisation that we were going to be in Bushmills, merely 5 miles from the motherland (Mummy’s birthplace and the home of her siblings). Thus it was decreed that I would visit Auntie Dora for the morning of the wedding and take full advantage of her widescreen tv.
So at 10 am on the 29th of April, (Hello magazine assured us that the princes would only be leaving Clarence House at 10.10) Beatrice and I arrived at Auntie Dora’s brandishing Kate and Wills buns, two union flags and dressed in our party frocks.
(not a bad caravan production)
The following three hours passed in a whirlwind of “oooh, look at her, she is beautiful”, “I think that’s one of the Spencer girls” and “Wow, that dress is divine...very Grace Kelly”. Just for the record, I loved the trees in the Abbey “echoing the gothic arches”, with the 6 Field Maples meaning humility and reserve and the hornbeam symbolising resilience. I thought her bouquet was understated and perfect with THE dress. I loved that sprigs of the myrtle came from both Queen Victoria’s garden and the Queen’s own bouquet. I loved that Pippa didn’t carry any flowers, her hands were too full with Kate’s train and the little flower girls.
Of course the ceremony itself was gossiped over and Bea did give us her rendition of “Hail to the Princess Aurora” during “Jerusalem” while standing in front of the tv to secure maximum attention.
We had a lovely party (OK it was lunch with cocktail sausages, but that was how I temped Bea in from the garden and the delights of playing with “the boys”) and hung around to see THE kiss. Then it was off for more holiday adventures...
Naturally on Saturday I bought both the Daily Mail and the Express (one for the pictures, the other for the journalism) and purchased the Sunday Times to feast on the photographs until I could buy Hello.
Our return from the caravan was heralded by warm windy weather, so within one afternoon I had all of the clothes washed and dried. All that remained was the mountain of ironing. The BBC coverage of the wedding, which I had of course Sky +ed was selected, and as the iron warmed up, I relived Friday on Monday. As the pile of ironing shrank and the piles of ironed grew, I absorbed all of the detail and inconsequential information shared by the well researched presenters, I amazed my husband with my knowledge of lesser royals and European monarchs and I submerged myself in pomp and pageantry. I loved every minute of it.
So here we are a week and a day beyond the “historical nuptials” and they have arrived....the little plastic Kate and William created by the ELC. Beatrice has played with them all day. I have acted as both Queen and cheering crowd simultaneously. The little people have lined up to celebrate and reenact the wedding. They have been transported safely to Granny Gina’s and back home again. Husband and I even papped a few pictures of our own.
(The Baron and Baroness of Carrickfergus with their guard, followed by the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh, followed by the minor royals in the mini bus.)
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