God Save The Queen (and my blogs, if you wouldn’t mind)

Honestly, I’ve just spent 30 minutes writing a spoof of The Queen’s diary. It was pretty funny, if I say so myself. Somehow, between buying a fake bamboo plant on ebay (to cover up stains from wet plaster which the builder’s labourer insists he doesn’t know anything about) and making a cup of tea, I’ve lost the scoffing lot. I’d just finished! I thought words were saved every nano second on here. It’s just vanished. I am considering typing it all out again. Or not bothering. Oh, I’ll give it a go. I spoil you, no?

Liz’s Appointments Diary – Monday 28 May

9.00am: Up to Solihull for the opening of some new hospital wing for transplant stuff. Thankfully Phillip had brought along a change of gloves. Everyone from the nurses to the CEO could be rife with MRSA. Am not taking any chances, I’ve got the Jubilee next week!

I’d have opted for my usual cotton gloves, but not on a hospital visit. You’ve got to be joking!

10.30am: Throw the gloves out of the window of the Bentley as we leave the hospital. Use the hand sanitiser which Kate thoughtfully slipped into my handbag this morning. The Thermos flask has kept my tea nice and hot, so treat myself to a couple of Rich Tea biscuits. Onwards and upwards.

‘Her Majesty just called. She’s polished off the last of her Rich Tea in a hospital car park in Solihull. Can we get this batch out to the Palace before end of play?’

11.30am: Arrive in Milton Keynes. Am reminded that I’ll be sitting through a school recital. Really? How original. I wish to God that these teachers would think of something interesting for me to watch. Can I not use the time to catch up on an episode of Home & Away on my i-pad? Cameras at all angles, so eyes front, as usual. No chance.

‘Helloooo! Just one episode? Please?’

12.30pm: A quick stop off at Newport Pagnell Services for a Double Whopper, fries and a Fanta. Bodyguard dressed in civvies today so nobody any the wiser.
2.00pm: Arrive back at the Palace. One of the corgis has pinched my slippers. Ring house keeping for another pair. Order cottage pie for tea tonight. Kitchen is out of Worcestershire sauce. The cracks are beginning to show. I sincerely hope they are on the ball for next weekend. FFS.
2.30pm: Nap time, and long overdue. Curl up with the dogs on the sofa having slipped out of my prissy dress and coat, and into some comfortable slacks and a cashmere twin-set. Much better. Phillip rubs my feet as I doze off.
2.35pm: David Cameron’s on the phone. Something to do with Greece. I tell him to talk to the Germans. They’ll know what to do. No use asking the French, is it?

‘The Greeks, right, apparently they’ve got no money AT ALL, Liz. Nothing!’

4.00pm: Catch up on two episodes of Home & Away. Have a cup of Earl Grey tea and renew the corgi’s insurance. Phillip always forgets and you can bet your life there’ll be an accident the minute their cover runs out. Only last week one of them did a wee on my crown! It took the laundry master four hours and a whole bottle of Dettol to get rid of it.
6.00pm: Cottage pie, and very nice it was too!

Cottage Pie

7.00pm: Watch the news. Can’t bear Jon Snow. William sends me his usual news summary via Facebook. Much easier to digest.
8.00pm: Phillip’s happily wrapped up in World of Warcraft – he’s on level seven – so I decide to retire. Laugh at the irony – if only! I’ll be opening bloody hospitals and sitting in school assemblies until the day I drop. I’ve got some plans for the Thames Pageant to go over, so take them to bed. Apparently that Ben Fogle chap is going to be rowing. I heard he did his Atlantic trip naked. How exciting. Must let Camilla know. If we stand up the entire time we might get lucky, we have an overhead view after all!

Her Majesty: ‘No bloody sign of Fogle, Cams. I’ve been stood here for hours. Where is he?’
Camilla: ‘Just keep smiling, eyes front. I think he’s due in about 15 minutes. Bet he’s wearing bloody clothes anyway. Waste of time us being here, if you ask me.’
Her Majesty: ‘I know. How many kayaks can one wave at? Seriously? Is there a buffet, at least? Please tell me there’s a buffet.’
Camilla: ‘You’ve got a Scotch egg in your bag. Have that.’

10.00pm: Gave the dogs some M&S Jubilee shortbread. Had a little nibble myself. It really is rather good. And their commemorative tin is delightful! Well done, M&S. Shame your gloves aren’t quite up to scratch.

Loving this!

I go over tomorrow’s plans – three appointments! One in Glasgow – I’m not sure that’s safe? – one in Cardiff and one in Bromley. Where’s Bromley? If I haven’t heard of it, surely it can’t be important enough for a visit. I’m 86 years-old, for goodness’ sake, these people need to PRIORITISE.
10.15pm: Lights out (someone does that for me).

The Queen’s Bedroom, yesterday
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