Goodbye Queenie.

My mother used to refer to her as Queenie and the same name tag always stuck in my mind, just as she was always there, in the background of our lives as we weren't royalists. I'm still not, and pay small attention to the comings and goings of the UK's most high ranking family. I think I was painting the side of someone's house during the wedding of Charles and Diana, and I recall looking at early hifi equipment in John Lewis with Mum when some other huge royal event during the 70s was taking place.

But as so many others must feel, it is so odd to realise someone who has always been there as much as a parent always is has finally left us. All those angular handbags and matching outfits as bright and striking as Gerbera daisies, all those times I wondered if the Queen craved beans on toast or wished to disguise herself and wander around a car boot sale on a Sunday, all those times I asked myself what it would feel like to hear the announcement that she had passed on.

Farewell Queenie.

                                                                           Getty images

How to

I just had to write this down.
Through the WWWeb we can access anything, well not guided-missile routes or The Queen's supper menu for next Wednesday, but most other useless/useful information we care to ask of Monsieur Google.
Our aged 'fosse septique' - personal sewage pit - what the hell is it called - I'll just look it up . . . (opens new window) - septic tank, is proving a tad tricky, or the loo/pipes, whatever . . . so I consulted The Net: How to. Before I could get to 'blocked' I was offered:

How to: Tie a tie
              Kiss
              Boil eggs
              Lose weight
              Make money

Odd that tie-tying comes before losing weight or making money. Kissing seems fairly straight forward, or maybe it isn't at the beginning - I can't remember that far back. Boiling eggs? Is it not sad that this should be the third most asked about topic according to predictive phrase guessing? I suppose most people don't require information on how to roast swan or stuff grasshoppers, eggs being more popular.

Then I added the word empty (septic tank) and got:

A pool
A Catheter bag
A pond
A Septic tank (ah-ha)
A water bed - what a disgusting thought.

Someone once came round and insisted on doing a hoover demo for us despite the fact I said I would never in a billion years buy their ridiculous system that cost about 3,000 euros, anyway, she hoovered our mattress - just a small area then deposited the contents into a small square white piece of cloth. It was unspeakably horrible. Grey, greasy dust - lots of it - skin and stuff . . . Just imagine what would appear in, say, ten-year old fluid from a water bed. Or maybe you have to do it every month. Just picture the water bill. Anyway . . .

Must look up 'how to stop procrastinating'.

                                                      How to kiss and empty a waterbed

I knew it . . .

The Queen and my Aunt Lily are the same person.

Aunty L didn't really pass away, she just moved from her bungalow in Poole to Balmoral, taking with her the hearth rug, the electric fire, all the knic-knacs, her white perm, a range of nice cardigans and her black handbag.
I don't remember her being quite so formal with folk generally though, more a quick peck on the cheek, leaving a dob of bright pink lipstick and a whiff of cologne.