Happy New Year to everyone. Now that it's over I can tell you what I did. I spent it with one of my dearest friends in the world. You know her as tthe Queen of England. I know her as LIz. We had a wonderful time hacking about the bush at Balmoral with the corgi's or sitting around a roaring fire with mulled wine sharing stories about Margaret. Last night, New Years, Liz got a little into her flagons and became very serious. I thought I would share her story with you. This is what she said in her own words.
Recently,while accidentally on purpose monitoring my family's telephone conversations,I overheard my son Edward talking to a gentleman friend in New York about barebacking. I was completely staggered,as you could imagine. Riding a horse without a saddle is terribly dangerous. The steed could come to a sudden halt and before one can say Christopher Robin,there's another Christopher Reeves. Or is it Reeve. I never know. Edward's friend spoke about some sort of circuit where everyone goes au naturale, and barebacks,apparently. I don't know what circuit he's referring to but Ascot's certainly not on it. The English are not meant to be nude in large groups, which is why the Holocaust for us would have been not only horrific but embarrassing as well. There's nothing wrong with thinking about barebacking. I think about it all the time. I think about having people killed, too. Certain members of the press. Elton John. Diana, again. But we don't, because I can't have any fun. It's the law. I'm not even allowed to ride a horse like a regular person. We must ride side-saddle. It takes away all the enjoyment of riding for a woman. We're afraid the only position a Queen may straddle is a political one.
Heaven knows, it's been a difficult year what with that horrible Queen movie with that dreadful Helen Mirren creature desparately trying to humanize me. No I didn't cry on camera when the D word died. So cut off my head. I won't be the first relation to suffer that fate. Maybe I didn’t cry but I did look sad. I addressed you in a sweater. I refrained from using the B word. Buddy you know I've changed. I came about on the love that dared not speak it’s name and gave a Knighthood to Ian Mckellen, even though he wanted to be Dame. But this barebacking thing has got me all in a dither. It's just so unnecessary.
I admit that I used to bareback all the time when I was a young girl but that was before we knew the dangers. Nanny would wake me in the dead of night and we'd sneak out to the stables,me in my bare feet and Nanny in her wellies. I'd always ride Daedalus, a huge black stallion with the bloodlines of a champion. We'd ride till dawn and then I'd put him away wet. I still think of Daedelus late at night when I'm alone in my big bed with no one around but the Corgis. I think about riding him bareback over the moors wearing nothing but a tiara and we think and we think until we fall asleep.
And with that she did just that. I covered her up with an armful of corgi's then wrapped myself in an ermine cape and fell asleep on the floor with my head on a snoozing bloodhound. Goodnight. Sweet Dreams. Buddy and Liz