Status: Has been on Hiatus due to the huge rush of uni life, but now first year is over, I'm going to do my best to give you lovelies the ending you deserve! =)
Diary of a Reluctant Ruler
Nose Plumage
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I fiddled temperamentally with the silver brooch attached to the lapel of my itchy skirt-suit. I could almost predict a ladder in my tights. And it would be big. Dad stood in front and to my left, also suited up, (when was he never?). To both sides of us a ‘Man of the Guard’ stood, dressed in traditional blue military uniform, hands resting on swords.
Casual statement about the swords there…
Realism dearie.
Don’t dearie me, it’s creepie.
Jade had sadly been rejected in favour of a more traditional guard. Personally, I thought she should get dressed up in blue, but Grandmother wouldn’t hear of it. So she was staying behind the curtain, dressed in black, ear-pieced into the security network.
I fidgeted my brooch again; the pin was now sticking into my collar bone.
“Ten seconds, your highness,” said William, standing by the door.
Good stewarding William!
Nice work, old chap, nice work.
Woo! Go William!
No need to get too over-enthusiastic.
I had to abandon my pin as the doors were flung open ahead of us. Our ‘glorious’ national anthem swelled around us, and we stepped forward into the ballroom, which had been furnished with staging and seating both. Those present rose to their feet…
Bet the older ones aren’t too happy about that custom.
…and we went forward onto the stage. The Chamberlain took up his position to Dad’s right once I’d swapped to his left, and proceeded to read off the first name.
Cameras flashed as ‘Mr Arthur Doyl’ now ‘Arthur Doyl OA’ received a handshake from Dad, and his shiny new piece of metal from me.
These pins are fiddly!!
Don’t drop it! I pleaded with myself. Don’t drop it… the sentence became a mantra in my head as I continued to fasten medal after medal. To make matters worse, the ‘Orders of Adria’ weighed about a tonne.
It was on the, well, I hadn’t counted quite that far; but we were into at least fifty, that I managed to drop not the medallion I was awarding, but my own brooch. The pin had worked its way out of pricking my shoulder bone, and had decided that floor was a better place than any to reside.
I gulped as it crashed to the floor as I leant forward to pin the fifty-something-eth badge to the lapel of a very elderly man’s new grey suit. My mantra suddenly changed to ‘Help, help, help, help, help!’. I pretended not to notice and finished pinning the badge.
Grimace.
Horror spread across my face as ‘Frederick Henderson OA’ bent creakily to pick up my badge. My mantra changed again, this time to ‘don’t get stuck, don’t get stuck, don’t get stuck’!
With another creak, Mr Henderson rose once more to his feet.
I smiled gratefully, and in a manner I hoped was royal, at the return of my brooch.
Never wearing one of those stupid things ever again.
But what if it’s code for a party?
Nope.
If your life depends on it?
Nuh-uh.
I slipped the brooch into my pocket, Frederick Henderson OA moved off, and Olaf Pearson was walking towards us, looking incredibly serious. I took a deep breath and smiled at Mr Pearson, fastening his medallion without a hitch.
It was a surprise I didn’t drop a hundred of them, let alone the one of my own!
Grandmother has assured me there were only one hundred and fifty of them, but she quite obviously cannot count, because there had to be at least a million of these people. And for some reason they all seemed to be elderly, balding gentlemen.
Elderly, balding, liver-spotted, with hairy ears…
Don’t forget the nose plumage.
Ah, no, the nose plumage. A well-cultivated shrubbery this gentleman has…
I tried not to stare at people’s ears. But after a while in a repetitive situation, you start to resort to dangerous tactics to prevent yourself from dying of boredom. Mine was to compare ear shape, size, and growth of hair.
Eternity would seem shorter than this…
I pondered my current situation, trying to sum up my blessings.
1. I have a wonderful boyfriend.
2. I have some great friends at school.
3. Freya is nearly ready to give birth and seemed healthy.
4. …I’m stuck.
I sighed, and then hastily covered it up as I attempted to fasten yet another, yes you guessed it, medallion.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I fiddled temperamentally with the silver brooch attached to the lapel of my itchy skirt-suit. I could almost predict a ladder in my tights. And it would be big. Dad stood in front and to my left, also suited up, (when was he never?). To both sides of us a ‘Man of the Guard’ stood, dressed in traditional blue military uniform, hands resting on swords.
Casual statement about the swords there…
Realism dearie.
Don’t dearie me, it’s creepie.
Jade had sadly been rejected in favour of a more traditional guard. Personally, I thought she should get dressed up in blue, but Grandmother wouldn’t hear of it. So she was staying behind the curtain, dressed in black, ear-pieced into the security network.
I fidgeted my brooch again; the pin was now sticking into my collar bone.
“Ten seconds, your highness,” said William, standing by the door.
Good stewarding William!
Nice work, old chap, nice work.
Woo! Go William!
No need to get too over-enthusiastic.
I had to abandon my pin as the doors were flung open ahead of us. Our ‘glorious’ national anthem swelled around us, and we stepped forward into the ballroom, which had been furnished with staging and seating both. Those present rose to their feet…
Bet the older ones aren’t too happy about that custom.
…and we went forward onto the stage. The Chamberlain took up his position to Dad’s right once I’d swapped to his left, and proceeded to read off the first name.
Cameras flashed as ‘Mr Arthur Doyl’ now ‘Arthur Doyl OA’ received a handshake from Dad, and his shiny new piece of metal from me.
These pins are fiddly!!
Don’t drop it! I pleaded with myself. Don’t drop it… the sentence became a mantra in my head as I continued to fasten medal after medal. To make matters worse, the ‘Orders of Adria’ weighed about a tonne.
It was on the, well, I hadn’t counted quite that far; but we were into at least fifty, that I managed to drop not the medallion I was awarding, but my own brooch. The pin had worked its way out of pricking my shoulder bone, and had decided that floor was a better place than any to reside.
I gulped as it crashed to the floor as I leant forward to pin the fifty-something-eth badge to the lapel of a very elderly man’s new grey suit. My mantra suddenly changed to ‘Help, help, help, help, help!’. I pretended not to notice and finished pinning the badge.
Grimace.
Horror spread across my face as ‘Frederick Henderson OA’ bent creakily to pick up my badge. My mantra changed again, this time to ‘don’t get stuck, don’t get stuck, don’t get stuck’!
With another creak, Mr Henderson rose once more to his feet.
I smiled gratefully, and in a manner I hoped was royal, at the return of my brooch.
Never wearing one of those stupid things ever again.
But what if it’s code for a party?
Nope.
If your life depends on it?
Nuh-uh.
I slipped the brooch into my pocket, Frederick Henderson OA moved off, and Olaf Pearson was walking towards us, looking incredibly serious. I took a deep breath and smiled at Mr Pearson, fastening his medallion without a hitch.
It was a surprise I didn’t drop a hundred of them, let alone the one of my own!
Grandmother has assured me there were only one hundred and fifty of them, but she quite obviously cannot count, because there had to be at least a million of these people. And for some reason they all seemed to be elderly, balding gentlemen.
Elderly, balding, liver-spotted, with hairy ears…
Don’t forget the nose plumage.
Ah, no, the nose plumage. A well-cultivated shrubbery this gentleman has…
I tried not to stare at people’s ears. But after a while in a repetitive situation, you start to resort to dangerous tactics to prevent yourself from dying of boredom. Mine was to compare ear shape, size, and growth of hair.
Eternity would seem shorter than this…
I pondered my current situation, trying to sum up my blessings.
1. I have a wonderful boyfriend.
2. I have some great friends at school.
3. Freya is nearly ready to give birth and seemed healthy.
4. …I’m stuck.
I sighed, and then hastily covered it up as I attempted to fasten yet another, yes you guessed it, medallion.
♠ ♠ ♠
Eeek! The International Hat Day page on Wikipedia has been proposed for deletion! Support the cause and wear a hat on the 11th of December! I know it's ages away but I'm panicking.Please don't hunt me down and kill/ eat me.
Miss Madness, I love your vocabulary.
Oh, and sadly, due to exams, I'm cutting back to one update a week. We should return to normal some time in the future... Though at the moment the end of exams seems a long way away.
Ivy, xXGreyWingsXx (c) 2008