Ordinary People

I promised that my next post would cover the Royal Wedding. Rather than disappoint you, I will deliver on my promise.

Here in London the magic was palpable that day. For the first time in several days the air was clear and cool. There was a cloudy sky, the first in weeks that morning, and the high pollen count had abated somewhat. Consequently for the thousands who descended on central London to catch a glimpse of the wedding party the atmosphere was very British - very Wimbledon - very amenable.

For me, a hayfever sufferer, the day could not have been more pleasant. Watching the wedding from home and then the gym, enjoying the company of my neighbours at the Royal Wedding garden party, feeling united with my English brethren in a proud and historic celebration of love, community, majesty and family.

But in hindsight I think the truly amazing thing about the event - and indeed - perhaps the reason for my malaise over the next three days - was the almost story book quality of perfection around the occasion (not unlike my own wedding day...). Everything was just lovely.

For me, the fact that someone really quite ordinary snared the future king of England is though, one of the most profound aspects of this happy tale. And by "ordinary" I do not mean "common" as the British press and establishment love to call her. Nor do I mean to be disparaging - for ordinary is truly what most of us are.

No - the really wonderful thing is that unlike so many elements of monarchy, this wedding seemed charmingly democratic and accessible. Kate, by all accounts, is a sensible and poised woman. Unlike some pundits and posters who have comments to make about make-up and social climbing, her weight and her hair, I really can find nothing to criticise her for. Isn't she the sort of girl one would have been friends with? The sort of girl one would like one's daughter to be? A nice, ordinary, straight forward, committed, dedicated, sweet person?

Ok, so those qualities may not be entirely "ordinary", after all, but I can't help wishing and hoping that they were or could be.

But the magic lies in the fact that this young couple are so discreet and polite and measured. Unlike the B and C grade celebrities (and A as well, let's be honest) that festoon the headlines most weeks, there is no controversy, no tawdry gossip, no drugs or indiscretions.

While they may be royalty the very fact that she shops on the high streets and does her own make-up and that he plays a little bit of football in the public park on the eve of his wedding, makes this couple, this very famous  duo, breathtakingly regular and indeed - ordinary. She has worn the same thing more than once for the cameras!

This is not to say that their lives are ordinary, by any means. Nor is it to suggest that any ordinary Joe or Jane could or would swap places with them and assume their roles with even an iota of the dignity and aplomb with which they seem to carry off every public appearance.

All I mean is that it is refreshing and a little bit magical to witness a commitment and love outside one's circle of ordinary people that is just so nice and normal (despite the guest list and the budget for the wedding, the helicopter pickup the next day and the titles...).

The other thing that is so lovely and fresh, in this age where everyone has a website, a blog, a point of view, and in which so many mediocre and extraordinarily damaged and strange people harbour a yearning for fame and fortune, notoriety or celebrity, is that this couple to date has really said very little.

So yes, less is more. Silence is golden.

Where has she been all this time...

I am delighted to be back in London following a short but sweet visit to Australia to share in the nuptials of my brother. I made hay while the sun shone on me and crammed in some relaxation time sans Off-Spring. Many people nod sympathetically at the thought of 21 hours airborne in economy class to Brisbane. The truth is that 21 hours anywhere without the children is in fact a treat to be cherished. Much as I love and missed them, everything is better after an absence and I was sorely in need of a little absentia from responsibility when I boarded that jumbo jet...

It was a lovely visit "home". The wedding went beautifully, the weather was delightful, the time with family and friends meaningful and joy-filled (on the whole), the Off-Spring and Mr Springgirl made the most of some quality father/son time without me and I returned feeling, if not refreshed and restored, at least relaxed and refocussed (mentally that is - the physical toll is still being felt...).

When I last posted here I was in search of the Voom, I recall. I am delighted to say that I found a little bit of Voom down under in the form of a rather dashing and chic blue coat (French, of course) which I wore to the wedding over a shiny teal dress, teamed with a little bit of bling at throat and wrist and some sweet blue flowers in the hair. It was all quite Holly Golightly (or so one guest informed me) - which I interpreted to mean I looked Audrey Hepburnesque (rather than call-girlish).

The Voom was not too long lasting though as a weird bloodshot eye complaint came on the day after the wedding (eyeliner(!)), only to be followed by severe jet lag and sleep deprivation induced skin blotch breakout soon after that. I now find myself virtually ripping both eyes from their sockets in a melodramatic upstaging of King Lear due to the pollen and dust in the air. If any of you are at a loose end - please develop a hay-fever drug that works without causing massive mood altering side effects. Then again - maybe those mood altering varieties might help with that elusive Voom...

I do not want to make this post into a negative and whining complaint about pollen and long haul flights. I am missing Australia playing in the World Cup to write it, after all, so I had better not fritter this time away being a big old whingy pants, but I have to say that apart from the three weeks of Spring in which there is no pollen, the whole London summer experience is greatly overrated to my way of thinking. Sure I do love the long evenings of light and the glorious thrill of not knowing which climate to dress for on any day, but on the whole, the sheer discomfort of sneezing and itching one's eyes for several of those daylight hours, does detract from one's enjoyment of tea in the garden. It's like travel. It's a nice idea...  Of course one loves to go away, to share special occasions and memories, but one forgets how very gruelling long-haul travel can be. I take my widebrimmed stylish summer hat off to those cabin crew and pilots. How do they adjust to all those time zones, sleep at funny times and return to work so smilingly, with such pleasant and sunny demeanours?

In any case, as you can see, I am still, after several days back home in London, searching for my old sense of purpose and vigour. I do have several episodes of "my shows" to catch up on, it is true. Moreover, despite coming late to the "Madmen" party (in-flight tv drama thanks to Qantas), I now have another distraction to make time and space for. As a result, blogging, job-hunting, finishing the next novel and arranging for printing of the children's book have all gone on the back burner, together with the Voomless search for meaning in the myriad concerns of the multitudes. I shall have to make more hay until this sense of dislocation and malaise wears off. Perhaps three more days - just long enough to watch three episodes of "The Good Wife", restock the fridge and catch up on the sleep lost in transit...

So I apologise for my absence. I apologise for having nothing much to say here. I apologise for not keeping in touch. I apologise for whining. I apologise for not having a photo of myself looking so good at the wedding to share with you.

But - on a happier note - do you like the new template? I am not convinced. I want to like the Spring-like design and feel but a part of me wants to hold on to the past. Am I just embracing this change for the sake of it? Am I trying to distract you from the parlous lack of content in this post?

Let me know what you think.

I promise more gripping, amusing and scintillating dialogue in the next few days.

I actually have several ideas in the pipeline for posts. Really, I do. Come on - it's World Cup time, and Wimbledon around the corner! Who is reading my blog anyway?!