I’m so exited for the coronation, I can hardly breathe. Not so much the king stuff and queeny bits, but the thought that, after 70 years, we might get a new sandwich filling!!!

Coronation chicken was invented at Elizabeth’s coronation in 1953. The Queen fancied a quick sarnie before going off to the Abbey and they’d run out of cheese. And ham. Someone had cleared out the peanut butter jar and put it back empty!!! All they had was chicken. And the Queen hated chicken sandwiches. “Too dry for one’s palette, don’t you find?” Well, Your Majesty, how about if I put some salad cream on it, just a little too much? Oh, and a few raisins? Just swept them off the floor. “Hmmm…” said the soon to be Queen, “anything else in one’s larder?” Oh, just this, some curry powder. Shall I put some on?

And so, what sounds on first glance as a combination with positively emetic qualities, came to be. Such a wonderful combination that it was actually crowned.

So I have two slices of slightly stale, bland, white, cut-loaf sitting by the side of the telly. Ready. For the new one.

The actual coronation is the real deal though. I can’t wait to see… soldiers. Thousands of them. Horses. Hundreds. Uniforms. Millions. Then: “look mum!! More soldiers!!!” OMG!!!! More Soldiers!!!! And MOOOOOOORRRRE soldiers!!!! Etc, etc, etc…

I am no Republican. Nor an anti-monarchist. And I have to like Charlie, cos he’s odd. Always has been. And a man unyieldingly true and loyal… to his mistress. He’ll look lovely in ermine. So on Saturday morning, in his honour, I shall play tennis. But unlike my usual selfish, competitive and obsessive motivations, this time, I shall be playing FOR MY KING!!!

GOD SAVE THE KING!

A xxxx