All week my next door neighbours (yes THEM!) have been teaching the local kiddies songs for the coming street party: 'God Save the Queen', 'Rule Britannia' and 'Land of Hope and Glory'...
... well, I'm supposing it's for the Royal Wedding... they could be setting up a Facist Toddlers Group!
Yes, you say, but your local kids are burning tyres, graffiting walls and nicking fags from the corner shop. I should be grateful. And there's an outside chance all this jumping up and down will demolish their new patio - now rising a good metre above ground level.
I'm neither rampantly for or against the royal family and 'the wedding' and I don't work Fridays anyway. I suppose it must be doing the British tea-towel industry some good, but I wouldn't recognise Kate Whatsit if I fell over her in the street - which seems fairly unlikely unless she's planning a hen night in Slinkies.
But I'm not going to the street party and frankly the only reason I'll be getting out of bed is because there's no telly in my bedroom and I want to see if anything exciting (by which I mean 'unplanned') happens... like she has the good sense to change her mind about all this marriage malarky.
Yes, I'm grumpy this week. If you want to cheer yourselves up:
- get your Royal Wedding Freebies stocked up
- read the Poet Laureate's regrettably uncynical take on it all
- dunk your Kate & Will teabags in your Will & Kate mug
- or even knit your own 'Big Day'
I shall be drinking and snacking and assuming my usual position at weddings*- sitting at the back in black, muttering: 'It'll never work.' It's what I should have done at my own.
* Although, strangely, I rarely get invited to any.