The Proclaimers

I would question the wisdom of televising the journey of the Queen’s coffin from Balmoral to Edinburgh. 

Do we; the people, really need to see hours and hours of footage of that? I suspect not, but I daresay that some will have been glued to their screens for the whole affair.

While all that was going on, LadyV and I were in surprisingly good fettle despite the copious drinks from the night before and begun the day with a mooch around the boot sale, which was at The Eldest’s school just around the corner. It was a very surreal atmosphere once more, so calm and still. I thought I was imagining it but she felt it too.

We needed a couple of things from town, so wandered in, whilst making sure we had time for cake and again enjoying some late summer sun. We bumped into ayearinthelife (who was looking remarkably chipper following his rocking out and return home in the early hours of the morning) and his good lady who informed us of the forthcoming proclamation at the town hall. 

We decided that as it wasn’t that far away, we’d go and take a look. It was a little bit of history after all. Quite a sizeable crown had gathered to hear the proclamation and I must confess that a shiver went down my spine when the ceremony ended with a shout of “God save the King!” and the assembled band struck up the national anthem as the gathering crowd struggled with the force of habit to substitute the correct pronouns mid-song. An older lady behind me announced in a surprised voice to no one in particular that she felt a little choked up. I knew what she meant.

We walked home (fortunately a lot less than 500 miles) and crashed out on the sofa as the effects of the booze from the night before caught up with us. 

Sunday afternoon spent doing exactly what they were designed for: casual napping.