Tag Archives: Christmas

The Night Before Christmas


vintagereindeer

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ Sandringham House,

Not a Middleton was stirring, not one single louse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

But none for Meghan Markle who wouldn’t be there;

The royals were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of taxpayer funding danc’d in their heads,

And the Queen in her crown, and Philip in his cap,

Probably muttered, “I’m too old for this crap”-

When all through the tabloids there arose such a clatter,

Prince Harry’s romance hardly a private matter.

Away to the press Meghan’s relatives flew like a flash,

Selling old photos and videos for quick easy cash.

The American actress on a scarcely watched show,

Was attacked on social media as a fame-hungry hoe;

When what on Blind Gossip should appear,

But a hinted campaign to portray Meghan as saint of the year,

With pr reps at the ready to lay it on thick,

That whole demure duchess candidate shtick.

Little had been known about Prince Harry’s new flame,

And rapidly she became 2016’s most Googled actress name,

A porn site had a 1430% increase in searches for the vixen,

Who has been called by some a modern Wallis Simpson:

“Divorced, American, sex scenes, not suitable at all!”

Critics proclaimed her social media posts took gall.

Instagram bracelets and the initials necklace really don’t fly,

For romantically involved adults in the public eye.

But at least Harry will be at Sandringham, unlike William and Kate, too,

Who will be spending Christmas at Bucklebury, breaking tradition anew.

But even as the Cambridges disappear out of sight,

It still won’t be as bad as when William made the staff watch Twilight.

holly

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

redheart

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Happy New Year!

Greetings!  My apologies for my absence, I’ve been sick and spent the  holidays with my parents whose WiFi was knocked out by some kind of wiring piggy-backing turf war between the phone and cable companies.

Unfortunately I didn’t get around to commenting on a tiara moment even more cringe-worthy than the 2015 Miss Universe winner mix-up, Kate Middleton in the Cambridge Lover’s Knot tiara given to Princess Diana as a wedding gift in a dress eerily similar to one worn by her deceased mother-in-law with the tiara.  The referencing has sailed past Single White Female and into Hitchockian territory to the point I wouldn’t  blame any guests of Anmer Hall  if they declined  to shower during their stay.  I can only assume Kate’s New Year’s Resolution involves blue eyeliner, shoulder pads and going blonde.

Instead I dumped the contents of my laundry bag into a suitcase and headed to the airport with my canine companion to spend the holidays with my parents.  In my 401 days of Nightwing, we’ve flown twice together.  Nightwing is too big to be able to curl up comfortably at my feet, plus he finds everyone and everything  the most amazing incredible interesting thing ever so I buy the seat next to me so as to not bother a fellow passenger with 67 pounds of a canine attention whore.  Nightwing loves the moveable feast of attention he gets at airports, especially from members of the armed forces traveling home for the holidays who will get down on the ground with him for proper kisses and cuddles.

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When I arrived at my parents’ home, my body lost its virus war and I wound up sleeping through my birthday which I’m pretty sure means I get to deduct one year from my real age and two years from my pretend age.  It’s a tradition in my family to have a real and fake age, at my great-grandmother’s 100th birthday party, she pulled me aside and coyly said, “I have no idea why they’re having this party for me, I’m only 90.”

While the Cambridges did their Christmas church walk with Prince Harry this year, my family celebrated a more low-key Christmas.  None of us had the energy to deck halls.  Nightwing also kept it low-key,  no Christmas Eve attempt to eat Christmas like he did last year when he was a puppy, now referred to as The Great Stocking Massacre.

Last night Nightwing and I embarked on the journey home to NYC, made even longer as the ripple effect of delays continued to impact flights around the country.

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Because of an airline mix-up, we wound  up seated  at the back of a small shuttle plane and Nightwing felt it necessary to greet each and every seated  passenger personally.  I apologized profusely and explained my dog  thinks he’s the mayor of the plane, fortunately the passengers found Nightwing’s affection-seeking antics amusing and indulged the plane’s self-appointed canine mayor as he made his way to his seat.

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I ran into the pilot outside and we joked about Flight Mayor Nightwing.  I told him I was surprised Nightwing didn’t scratch on the cockpit door to see if he could fly the plane.  The pilot laughed and said he would have let him.  Perhaps in 2016, the canine community will have another flying ace.

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Nightwing was quite exhausted from our journey and his newly acquired flight politician status.

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As 2015 takes its final breaths and the calendar resets with a new year filled with wonderful possibilities,  to quote Dolly Parton, “I hope that you have all  that you ever dreamed of.  Oh, I do wish you joy.  And I wish you happiness.  But above all this I wish you love.”

redheart

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