Just a quick question. Anyone ever substituted toothpaste for moisturiser? So tired getting ready for bed, last night – and I had been to the dentist – I thought I was putting my Baby Lotion (yes, cheap and does the trick) on my face when I noticed that it was slightly on the thick side. I suppose the fact that even my eyes were smelling toothpaste gave it away! I must add that I was standing at the mirror in the dark – helps – as, when you turn on the lights in the bathroom, the fan makes the noise of a Boeing 747! So, how is my face this sunny morning? Perfect. Watson, I may have fallen upon the next discovery of great significance. Should I patent it now?!
The dentist. A follow-up appointment following up half of a back tooth falling down the plug hole at New Year. Apparently, it’s an age thing! Anyway, believing it was a relatively painless job, I was not prepared for what followed. Suffice to say, returning yesterday, I thought it was just a case of popping the porcelain top on. Surely no injections were necessary, this time? Well … find it better to anaesthetise just in case. Had he had a baby?! I know, once upon a time, that would be an utterly ridiculous question laced with humour but welcome to 2021! I can’t even bear to think about it. Hope Meghan’s mates aren’t among my readers. They’re everywhere, you know. Azerbaijan, Uganda and now Saudi Arabia!
Back to the dentist. A day out. I should be grateful. Actually, it’s like venturing into a parallel universe, the stringent measures in place before even entering the building. If I had ever wondered what it would feel like to have the plague, I now know … Making it as far as the waiting room – where each chair had been assigned an area denoted by masking tape – I could hear the conversation at reception. There was a couple discussing a future appointment who were, then, about to leave. Help! There was another body making his/her way upstairs. Quick! What to do? Seriously?! Now, totally convinced I am a visitor to a planet I once knew.
Lucy had very kindly tacked on a hygienist appointment prior to my seeing the dentist! Ever grateful. Just how one wishes to spend one’s only day out in months. An essential visit. So, no great shakes. I could do that. Well … apart from colouring my teeth purple to highlight any problem areas – and being subjected to spray the equivalent of which I can only cite as being that to which one is vulnerable on the edge of Victoria Falls – it was absolutely bearable! Just a case of wiping down and re-applying make-up. Make-up? Day out, remember …
Such fun! Actually, the most fun one can have is chatting to Roddie on the phone. Just come off. An absolute tonic, as ever, he cheered me up no end – although he does have a tendency to reel off old friends from childhood, all of whom have ‘married terribly well’! Not sure where I come in? Anyway, ‘Lots of love, darling. Promise I’ll write. Written 250 letters so far …’ Way down, obviously!
Ah, it’s the little things. Moving on … I just popped out into the garden to pick some snowdrops and miniature daffodils to fill my little glass jars. Love ‘wild’ flowers. Nearly froze to death, though. It is baltic out there. Suppose it is only March but still. Heating on and back to Meghan Markle … Many other topics I could address but, much as she is infuriating – toxic, even – she is trivia in comparison. Let’s keep the mood light!
Dear Meghan …
Well, you’ve done as you intended, you had your say
The fallout was inevitable, the Family in disarray.
I wonder if you’re happy, feel vindicated at last?
You have Harry where you want him, at sea without a mast!
So predictable, nay so rehearsed, no greater part to play
And Oprah was the perfect voice to reach the audience you craved.
First sympathy must be procured, look dewy-eyed, downtrodden
For unprotected, unprepared you reached the very bottom.
None of this was of your doing, you tried your best, you say
Kind to all, without a doubt, just the victim of racism at play.
You lost your voice, your passport, your life was not your own
The press attacked you for no reason, you wanted to go home.
The wedding cost a fortune, you were granted every wish
Prince Harry, the country’s favourite, what could possibly go amiss?
Who was to know you wanted it all, renouncing hierarchy and tradition
Ambition and fame, it’s all about me, haven’t you heard the news, I’m Meghan!
Meghan gets what Meghan wants and Harry proved the key
Beloved by all, I’ll play along, the perfect wife I’ll be.
I’ll stick it out for just a while, but I am definitely no Kate
No life of service, not a chance, subservient, I ain’t!
No photographs of Archie, no details of the birth
Privacy is what I crave, I know exactly my own worth.
The tide has turned, the honeymoon over, butter melting, that’s a fact
Time to play poor little me, racism is where it’s at.
No protection, no security, concerns about Archie’s colour
What happened to the title, deserving like any other?
Did we say we wanted privacy, to lead a normal life?
Don’t be ridiculous, I want it all, I’m Meghan, Harry’s wife!
Enough is enough, it’s not going my way, call the private jet, let’s go
Friends in high places, deals to be made, Oprah is waiting, don’t you know?
It’s all about thriving not just surviving, right? I need to tell my truth
The greatest fairytale of all time, I call it, and that’s a fact, forsooth!
What about Harry? Oh, yes, he I married. He’s happy, I told him so
For what he’s lost, look what he’s gained, the privacy to grow.
Netflix, Spotify, private jets, 16 bathrooms, he can’t complain
His family, his brother? Well, they’re in the past, our fortune will ease the pain.
This is Trish, signing off.