My grandfather built his own TV for the coronation, a story which I have told before, and they all sat round with neighbours to watch the seven inch screen. It was therefore, with a fine sense of tradition that I sat down and watched the Coronation on TV. Not quite all of it. I missed a bit at the beginning. And a bit while I made brunch. After that I watched more, napped for a little, made afternoon tea (including Coronation Chicken sandwiches), was shouted at for snoring and eventually saw the Royal Family on the balcony. I didn’t actually want to watch the ceremony, I just like the medals and uniforms. I like to say that as the shop’s medal expert I need to keep up with these things, but really I’m just a small boy trapped in a crumbling body.
This is good tradition.
My father, who was still the Royal Navy in 1953, stationed at Chatham, lined the Coronation route. It rained and he got wet. I briefly thought of him, but confess that I felt no need to follow in his footsteps. I’m sure King Charles will do fine without the presence of a wet Wilson by the side of the road.
All in all it’s a day to relish tradition. Everyone is keen to tell us how out of date and second class we are as a nation, but for just one day it would have been nice to sit back, be traditional, ignore the bits I didn’t like and relax. However, I wasn’t allowed to, as a lot of the comments from one of the BBC team, a history expert, hinged on how times were changing, always tinged with reproach. This is how life is these days, no matter what you do, somebody always wants to criticise.
I don’t have a picture suitable for a coronation, but let’s face it, nothing says celebration like a nice piece of cake. I used Battenberg in the top picture because it has a link to Royalty.
Sticky Toffee Cake
A big day! The coronation chicken seems to be a big deal, so I looked it up. Did you use dried apricots in yours? That seems a stretch to me. People are always sneaking grapes into chicken salad over here and I am not a fan. I think I would like apricots even less.
I think the recipe generally uses sultanas. I, of course, cheated and bought it from the shop. I only wanted one sandwich and it didn’t seem worth the effort of making it. I quite like dried apricots in things – less sweet than many other things.
My ambition is to live in a country which is imbued with a sense of responsibility for the well being of others and is well run in the day to day business of life. Whether the coronation contributed to either of these aims is open to debate. It appears that the current official response to these dreams is to suggest that I should go and live elsewhere.
If you find a place, let me know.
All countries have faults, and the older I get the more faults I see. It is a sad thing, becoming old and cynical . . .
You are such an optimist! Sense of responsibility and well run? These things seem to exist mainly in theory . . .
I still believe that if the right people were running things, we would all be better off. Am I crazy? Does being the one “running things” turn you into a monster?
I have a feeling that the ambition to reach the top doesn’t leave much room for compassion. I’m sure they mean well when they start, but it doesn’t seem to follow them all the way.
My mother was a WPC in the Metropolitan Police in 1953 and like your father was one of the many lining the route and got soaked to the skin.
She’s had an interesting life hasn’t she? I imagine it was a lot harder being a WPC in the 1950s than it was in the Navy.
It was difficult some of the time. The role was quite new and some policemen remembered when women had been used to inform on the men’s behaviour. Most of her male colleagues were absolutely fine and great fun too. Fortunately, spying on colleagues was no longer part of a WPC’s job which in those days was dealing mainly with women and children. Her first few weeks of training were a real eye-opener for her as she had had a very sheltered upbringing. She loved being a policewoman and only left when she found she was being encouraged to go for promotion which wasn’t what she wanted. She was very fortunate in the timing of her police career. There was the Festival of Britain, the King’s Funeral and then the Queen’s Coronation all within months of each other.
That’s a lot of history in a few short years. promotion can be a very tricky thing, a little bit removed from the main job each time, with more paper and politics. I think this is where we often go wrong.
Exactly right.
🙂
So cool!
Thank you, Jodie!
Life continues to roll along, ever changing in form and content. I agree, there is far too little news that does not include rampant criticism, or worse. A far cry from the Huntley-Brinkley and Walter Cronkite days of news in this country.
A good viewpoint, Quercus. The Battenberg link was fun
A social history told by cake could be a good book project for my retirement. 🙂
So it would. A blog series at least
I will look into it. 🙂
I’m happy with tradition. We don’t have a whole lot here so we do borrow yours from time to time. And having a King who has no real power makes it harder for a dictator.
I agree with that. And to be honest, an elderly man in ermine and a crown is a lot more impressive than a portly man with a ssh like we had in South Africa, or a lounge suit and a quiff like Trump.