Harry and Meghan #298 The half price Prince

[Anna2020]

MEG AND I WENT DOWN to the beach in front of the castle. Chilly day, but the sun was bright. We stood on the rocks, looking out at the sea. Amid all the silky islands of seaweed we saw…something.
A head. A pair of soulful eyes. Look! Seal! The head bobbed up and down. The eyes very clearly watched us. Look! Another!
Just as Pa instructed, I ran to the water’s edge, sang to them. Serenaded them. Arooo. No answer.
Meg joined me, and sang to them, and now of course they sang back. She really is magic, I thought. Even the seals know it. Suddenly, all over the water, heads were bobbing up, singing to her. Arooo. A seal opera. Silly superstition, maybe, but I didn’t care. I counted it a good omen. I took off my clothes, jumped into the water, swam to them.

Prince Harry,

 

[xvictoriax]

It’s like a bad romcom or Hallmark movie

If there is not a Spare the musical in creation then I despair. I’ve even got some of the tracks for the show.

The sun will come out tomorrow. (With stories about me and Meg)

There are worse things I can do, than shoot a taliban or two.

Just a spoonful of sugar, or some questionable other substance.

Memory, I don’t have one before age 12.

If I only had a brain

 

[Blessmyheart]

Second date with Meghan
This time I was already there—waiting. Smiling. Proud of myself. She walked in, wearing a pretty blue sundress with white pinstripes. She was aglow. I stood and said: I bear gifts. A pink box. I held it forward. She shook it. What’s this? No, no, don’t shake it! We both laughed. She opened the box. Cupcakes. Red, white and blue cupcakes, to be exact. In honor of Independence Day. I said something about the Brits having a very different view of Independence Day from the Yanks, but, oh, well. She said they looked amazing. Our waitress from Date One appeared. Mischa. She seemed genuinely happy to see us, to discover that there was a Date Two. She could tell what was happening, she got that she was an eyewitness, that she’d forever be part of our personal mythology. After bringing us a round of drinks she went away and didn’t return for a long time. When she did, we were deep in the middle of a kiss. Not our first.
Meghan, holding my shirt collar, was pulling me towards her, holding me close. When she saw Mischa she released me immediately and we all laughed. Excuse us. No problem. Another round? Again the conversation flowed, crackled. Burgers came and went, uneaten. I felt an overwhelming sense of Overture, Prelude, Kettle Drums, Act I. And yet also a sense of ending. A phase of my life—the first half?—was coming to a close. As the night neared its end we had a very frank discussion. There was no way round it. She put a hand to her cheek and said: What’re we gonna doooo? We have to give this a proper go. What does that even mean? I live in Canada. I’m going back tomorrow! We’ll meet. A long visit. This summer. My summer’s already planned. Mine too. Surely in the whole summer we could find one small spot of time. She shook her head. She was doing the full Eat Pray Love. Eat what now? The book? Ah. Sorry. Not really big on books. I felt intimidated. She was so the opposite of me. She read. She was cultured. Not important, she said with a laugh. The point was, she was going with three girlfriends to Spain, and then with two girlfriends to Italy, and then— She looked at her calendar. I looked at mine. She raised her eyes, smiled. What is it? Tell me. Actually, there’s one small window… Recently, she explained, a castmate had advised her not to be so structured about her summer of eating, praying and loving. Keep one week open, this castmate said, leave room for magic, so she’d been saying no to all kinds of things, reserving one week, even turning down a very dreamy bike trip through the lavender fields of southern France… I looked at my calendar and said: I have one week open as well. What if they’re the same week? What if? Is it possible? How crazy would that be? It was the same week.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.

Ask the bins Harry! They will tell you the right way!Look for a comatose lion!Roll in the snow ( no, not that snow, I mean the front undercarriage challenging snow),Kill a stag!
Shake the box of your mothers hair!

 

[Anna2020]

We agreed that if we were serious about giving ourselves a chance, a real chance, we’d need a serious plan. Which meant, among other things, making a vow never to let more than two weeks pass without seeing each other.
We’d both had long-distance relationships, and they’d always been hard, and part of the reason had always been lack of serious planning. Effort. You had to fight the distance, defeat that distance. Meaning, travel. Lots and lots of travel.
The burden therefore would fall on Meg. In the early days, it would have to be her spending time on planes, her crisscrossing the ocean—while still working full-time on Suits. Many days the car came for her at 4:15 A.M. to take her to set. It wasn’t fair for her to shoulder the burden, but she was willing, she said. No choice, she said. The alternative was not seeing me, and that, she said, wasn’t feasible. Or bearable. For the hundredth time since July 1, my heart cracked open. Then we said goodbye again. See you in two weeks. Two weeks. God. Yes.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex

 

[Evangelina]

Ah, yes the nugget, thanks to @Anna 2020 for the work she does, from her post:

'' Yes, I thought. Yes. I saw the archbishop extend the rings, his hands shaking. I’d forgotten, but he clearly hadn’t: twelve cameras pointed at us, two billion people watching on TV, photographers in the rafters, massive crowds outside roistering and cheering. We exchanged the rings, Meg’s made from the same hunk of Welsh gold that had provided Kate’s. Granny had told me that this was nearly the last of it. Last of the gold. That was how I felt about Meg. The archbishop reached the official part, spoke the few words that made us The Duke and Duchess of Sussex, titles bestowed by Granny, and he joined us until death parted us, though he’d already done similar days earlier, in our garden, a small ceremony, just the two of us, Guy and Pula the only witnesses. Unofficial, non-binding, except in our souls. ''

BiB
And then, once upon a time:

A romantic tradition in the Royal Family concerns a nugget, of gold from Wales that has been used to make the royal wedding rings. A huge nugget, found at Gwynedd in 1923 was first used for the wedding ring of The Queen Mother. The jeweller who made the ring, Mr. Bertolle, bought the nugget, and then offered it to Princess Elizabeth at the time of her wedding to Prince Philip. Subsequently, wedding rings for Princess Margaret, Princess Anne and Princess Diana came from the same nugget,. By the time Prince Andrew married Sarah Ferguson, the nugget,had been used up. The Prince therefore bought a new nugget,, which should provide royal wedding rings well into the twenty-first century.
-Jeannie Sakol. 1988

 

[4FoxAche]

She was aglow???

Grab the fire extinguisher. Jesus Heck these people.

 

[JAR21]

My publishing friend said it has become increasingly common for UK publishers to use American spelling and phrasing in books that they expect to sell internationally.

They should use British English, because after all, it is our language!

Who can ever forget the spate of front-page stories making Meg out to be singlehandedly responsible for the End Times?
Specifically, she’d been “caught” eating avocado toast, and many stories explained breathlessly that the harvesting of avocados was hastening the destruction of the rainforests, destabilizing developing countries, and helping to fund state terrorism
. Of course the same media had recently swooned over Kate’s love of avocados. (Oh, how they make Kate’s skin glow!)
Notably, it was around this time that the super-narrative embedded within each story began to shift. It was no longer about two women fighting, two duchesses at odds, or even two households.
It was now about one person being a witch and causing everyone to run from her, and that one person was my wife
. And in building this super-narrative the press was clearly being assisted by someone or multiple someones inside the Palace. Someone who had it in for Meg.
One day it was: Yuck—Meg’s bra strap was showing. (Classless Meghan.)
The next day: Yikes—she’s wearing that dress? (Trashy Meghan.)
The next day: God save us, her fingernails are painted black! (Goth Meghan.)
The next day: Goodness—she still doesn’t know how to curtsy properly. (American Meghan.)
The next day: Crikey, she shut her own car door again! (Uppity Meghan.)

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.

This has definitely been written by 43%. All the way through, just like in the Podcast, she's 'correcting' what people have said about her.

 

[Chilli pepper 19]

Our dinner guests were my cousin Euge, her boyfriend Jack, and my mate Charlie. The salmon turned out perfectly and everyone complimented Meg on her culinary talents. They also devoured her stories. They wanted to hear all about Suits. And her travels. I was grateful for their interest, their warmth. The wine was as good as the company, and there was plenty of it, and after dinner we moved into the snug, put on music and silly hats, and danced. I have a fuzzy memory, and a grainy video on my phone, of Charlie and me rolling on the floor while Meg sat nearby laughing. Then we got into the tequila. I remember Euge hugging Meg, as if they were sisters. I remember Charlie giving me a thumbs-up. I remember thinking: If meeting the rest of my family goes like this, we’re home free. But then I noticed that Meg was feeling poorly. She complained of an upset stomach and looked terribly pale. I thought: Uh-oh, lightweight. She took herself off to bed. After a nightcap I saw our guests out and tidied up a bit. I got into bed around midnight and crashed out, but I woke at two A.M. to hear her in the bathroom, being sick, truly sick, not the drunken sick I’d imagined. Something else was going on. Food poisoning. She revealed that she’d had squid for lunch at a restaurant. British calamari! Mystery solved. From the floor she said softly: Please tell me you’re not having to hold back my hair while I’m vomiting. Yes. I am. I rubbed her back and eventually put her to bed. Weak, near tears, she said she’d imagined a very different end to Date Four. Stop, I said. Taking care of each other? That’s the point. That’s love, I thought, though I managed to keep the words inside.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex

It's always fucking suits. Do I need to buy the box set?

 

[Autisteuse]

Love the shade we Brit’s throw

Another thing Hazzard has somehow forgotten: when we’re faced with anything from melodramas to public tragedies, we rip the piss out of it. For years. Forever.

 

[EnjoyingTheShow]

REMINDER!!

https://opencorporates.com/companies/us_de/7691065

This is Meghan and Doria‘s ultra secretive corporation, based in (ultra secretive!) Delaware, U.S.

Journalists, stop snooping here and start doing your jobs. Bust this corporation wide open and reveal its filings!!!

 

[Anna2020]

DAYS LATER THE pregnancy was announced publicly. The papers reported that Meg was battling fatigue and dizzy spells and couldn’t hold any food down, especially in the mornings, all of which was untrue. She was tired, but otherwise a dynamo. Indeed, she felt lucky not to be suffering severe morning sickness, since we were embarking on a hugely demanding tour.
Everywhere we went, enormous crowds turned out, and she didn’t disappoint them. All across Australia, Tonga, Fiji, New Zealand, she dazzled.
After one especially rousing speech, she got a standing ovation. She was so brilliant that midway through the tour I felt compelled…to warn her. You’re doing too well, my love. Too damn well. You’re making it look too easy. This is how everything started…with my mother.
Maybe I sounded mad, paranoid. But everyone knew that Mummy’s situation went from bad to worse when she showed the world, showed the family, that she was better at touring, better at connecting with people, better at being “royal,” than she had any right to be. That was when things really took a turn. We returned home to jubilant welcomes and exultant headlines. Meg, the expectant mother, the flawless representative of the Crown, was hailed. Not a negative word was written. It’s changed, we said. It’s changed at last. But then it changed again. Oh, how it changed.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.

 

[Libbie]

Perfect!

 

[Youonlyliveonce]

Wonder if big god-daddy Tyler is her shining knight again and whisked her to his new Georgia pad, mind you he might not want Aitch using it as his pot house again!

Just remembered another part of the document that annoyed me! The part where Meghan calls him, crying and begging for help saying she's scared. The undertone is that the RF had a hand in killing Princess Diana and that Meghan is scared the same thing is going to happen to her. Also the part where Tyler is asked to be Lilis godfather and he says he will do it as long as he doesn't have to come to the UK and mix with 'those people' meaning us and the RF.

 

[ResidentMerkin]

Having burfed in Chelsea &Westminster (nhs, not Kensington wing) and also portland, tgis woman is absolutely incorrect. My OB ONLY worked in St Eliz, st mart's and portland. Even if paid a jillion bucks, he couldn't be my doctor at Chelsea &Westminster. Also, I had to have an emergency c section for my 2nd child. At the portland. That happened literally o the same floor where I had been labouring for 23 hours.

What is the lie is the face up baby, the harry being ok with that part of the process and the epidural &water birth. Not possible. You cannot walk


and it simply doesn't happen for hygienic reasons












bQ

 

[mira2]

Keep one week open, this castmate said, leave room for magic, so she’d been saying no to all kinds of things, reserving one week, even turning down a very dreamy bike trip through the lavender fields of southern France… I looked at my calendar and said: I have one week open as well. What if they’re the same week? What if? Is it possible? How crazy would that be? It was the same week

Amazing coincidence, just amazing. Hmm, just think, one day when the kids are off their hands, they can sling a phrase book, a Rick Steves Guidebook to Clichéd American Secret Not Secret at All Getaways and a change of sundresses in the saddlebags and pedal off through the lavender fields in homage to the beginning of their greatest love story. Ahhhh.

 

[tobehonest]

We agreed that if we were serious about giving ourselves a chance, a real chance, we’d need a serious plan. Which meant, among other things, making a vow never to let more than two weeks pass without seeing each other.
We’d both had long-distance relationships, and they’d always been hard, and part of the reason had always been lack of serious planning. Effort. You had to fight the distance, defeat that distance. Meaning, travel. Lots and lots of travel.
The burden therefore would fall on Meg. In the early days, it would have to be her spending time on planes, her crisscrossing the ocean—while still working full-time on Suits. Many days the car came for her at 4:15 A.M. to take her to set. It wasn’t fair for her to shoulder the burden, but she was willing, she said. No choice, she said. The alternative was not seeing me, and that, she said, wasn’t feasible. Or bearable. For the hundredth time since July 1, my heart cracked open. Then we said goodbye again. See you in two weeks. Two weeks. God. Yes.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex

After four dates

 

[StSaturnindeLucian]

This is all so... exhausting.
I have a relative like that. Gregarious, fun and great to catch up with.
Until one day he flipped and suddenly came out with grievances and comments about family stories/situations going back YEARS and I realised he'd been keeping tabs of slights and grievances that no-one else had noticed.
It was quite chilling.

In Harry's case there is a mix of self-pity, self-righteousness and utter ego which is so charmless.
He's clearly utterly jealous his brother but insists that it's the other way round.

 

[TheCutiePatootie]

The man who re-did the dresses says: 'We had to work tooth and nail for four days, four of us working until 4 am three nights in a row, to make them fit'.

It goes to show that Kate was right, the dresses needed to be completely redone. And they lost a whole day of work and had to work till 4 am because Peg was ignoring Kate's messages.

“kissing her soft neck, inhaling her perfume” I was skim reading thinking he was talking about Megz but he’s actually talking about Diana I shit you not, why is he so creepy and weird about her. Has anyone else ever thought to themselves their mam has a soft neck?! :/ This is one very very weird obsession he has.

I noticed that too and chose to ignore it.

I have already seen too much.

My brian can't handle what came into my mind when I read that.

 

[Anna2020]

WE ARRANGED A SECOND summit with Willy and Kate.
This time on our turf. December 10, 2018. Early evening.
We all gathered in our little front annex, and this time there was no small talk: Kate got things rolling straightaway by acknowledging that these stories in the papers about Meg making her cry were totally false. I know, Meghan, that I was the one who made you cry.
I sighed. Excellent start, I thought.
Meg appreciated the apology, but wanted to know why the papers had said this, and what was being done to correct them? In other words: Why isn’t your office standing up for me? Why haven’t they phoned this execrable woman who wrote this story, and demanded a retraction?
Kate, flustered, didn’t answer, and Willy chimed in with some very supportive-sounding evasions, but I already knew the truth.
No one at the Palace could phone the correspondent, because that would invite the inevitable retort: Well, if the story’s wrong, what’s the real story? What did happen between the two duchesses? And that door must never be opened, because it would embarrass the future queen. The monarchy, always, at all costs, had to be protected.
We shifted from what to do about the story to where it came from. Who could’ve planted such a thing? Who could’ve leaked it to the press in the first place? Who? We went around and around. The list of suspects became vanishingly small.
Finally, finally, Willy leaned back and conceded that, ahem, while we’d been on tour in Australia, he and Kate had gone to dinner with Pa and Camilla…and, alas, he said sheepishly, he might’ve let it slip that there’d been strife between the two couples…
I put a hand over my face. Meg froze. A heavy silence fell. So now we knew.
I told Willy: You…of all people…should’ve known…
He nodded. He knew. More silence.
It was time for them to go.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.

 

[neroli]

Everything is from the book.

You are going to need some serious detoxing after regurgitating all this Crapus Harribilis ,Anna..