Dear Majesty,
As you may know, I am on an extended holiday here in your glorious kingdom. I am on a house swap with a couple in Newbury in West Berkshire – not all that far from your country digs in Windsor -- and am enjoying myself very much indeed.
I’ve seeing some new sights, revisiting many venues that have impressed me in the past, and soaking up as much of your delightful British culture as possible in my five weeks here. For example, last week I took my friend Susan, a first-time visitor to the U.K., to the city of Bath and the Rothschilds’ estate at Waddesdon, both of which she loved, and to St. Paul’s Cathedral, which failed to impress her (“the ceilings are too high”). Last night we attended the London Welsh Men’s Choir Festival at Royal Albert Hall featuring a 600-voice mass choir. Imagine! A choir of SIX HUNDRED MEN! Susan’s reaction was less than overwhelming (“Why can’t they sing everything in English?”). For myself, I was blown away (600 men!!). There’s just no predicting people’s reactions, is there?
On another trip up to London one day last week, Susan and I attended an after-hours activity at the Queens Gallery right there at your house. I’m sure you’ve seen the current exhibit – Love and Passion: The Art of Victoria & Albert – which features art purchased by your great-great-grandparents during their marriage. It’s a beautiful display and certainly dispels the theory that Victoria was a prude. Who says she was opposed to nudity?!
Anyway, this ticketed “do” had been promoted as a behind-the-scenes look at the exhibit, with mini-lectures by members of the Curator’s staff, plus refreshments. The staff were certainly knowledgeable and gracious, and their presentations were really interesting. I particularly enjoyed hearing music of the era played on Victoria and Albert’s own decorative piano, which is part of the royal collection on display. I hadn’t known that Felix Mendelssohn taught Prince Albert to play the instrument, and that Albert himself composed songs.
The Curator and his staff mingled with guests all evening to answer questions and make us feel closer to the fascinating couple who had collected these objects. So far so good.
However, I feel it is my duty to report on the sad, sad issue of the refreshments.
Lilibet, honey. This function was held in Buckingham Palace. One would have expected certain Standards to be upheld!
Would it have broken the royal kitchen’s budget to come up with a plate of cheese and fruit? Maybe a little pate with some nice crackers? Some chilled shrimp would have been nice.
Alas, what we got were some disspirited, off-brand corn chips (sans salsa), a few pretzels and some potato chips. IN PLASTIC BOWLS. Susan and I agreed that we ate better snacks at slumber parties in 7th grade. We were not amused.
You own some of the finest china in the world, and these serving vessels were straight from Dollar General! I’ve seen better ware in WalMart.
It appeared as if somebody had made a quick run by the local budget supermarket, grabbed a few cellophane bags and some boring, plain white paper napkins and called it a day. I wouldn’t have even minded the crisps (we call 'em potato chips) if they had been presented in a nice silver or Royal Doulton bowl. Or had the napkins been embossed with the Windsor crest, suitable for a commoner's scrapbook. But plastic and paper?? Tacky, tacky, tacky! And there wasn’t even any onion dip.
I feel it is my duty as a wannabe subject to let you know of these embarrassing oversights.
On the other hand, I am all too happy to allow you to make it up to me. I'm available for dinner at the Palace any evening this week. Don't go to any special trouble. Whatever you and Phillip are having (on the royal china) will be fine with me.
I remain at your command,
Your loyal lifelong fan,
Emily
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