We just had hail here in Maine. Little icy balls bouncing off the bare trees and smacking against the window. If I was a born-again American, I might think it announced the end of spring. But I’m Welsh, and only superstitious about the English.
You know, I wish people would write this about me: “Too ambitious, too sexual, too divorced, too pro-German, and too American.”
Just between you and me, I liked the “American harlot” Wallis Simpson. She shook up the fusty monarchy and made a snuffling king into a man. And whatever can be said about the Duke of Windsor, I admire him for giving up his royal duties all for the love of a woman. Now that’s Eros. Shame about the Hitler thing, though. They would have been better off dining with Goering and his dead stags!
What’s all this interest suddenly in the philistine English monarchy? Must be that movie about the stuttering Bertie and now the upcoming matrimony of Prince William and Kate (who sound a bit like TV characters from an episode of All Creatures Great and Small).