Harry and Meghan #298 The half price Prince

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toomuchstuff

toomuchstuff

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vp79 said:
The gravy stopped bubbling?? oh god no, the inhumanity of it all.

Stupid British gravy, obviously just racist like the calamari.
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On a lighter note having eaten Aussie gravy and UK gravy - Aussie gravy is far far better.
 
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9

9Pine

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Plantagenet said:
All of these snippets from the book just convince me more that she wrote them or dictated them. This is written like a bad romance novel to be made into a bad movie of the week.
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Maybe Smeg was into Barbara Cartland fiction when she was growing up.
 
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NoIAmNotAHorse

NoIAmNotAHorse

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Anna2020 said:
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
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I do wish that he had continued to “keep his words inside!”
 
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Goldilocks3108

Goldilocks3108

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Anna2020 said:
I STOOD AT THE ALTAR, smoothed the front of my Household Cavalry uniform, watched Meg floating towards me. I’d worked hard to choose the right music for her procession, and ultimately I’d landed on Handel’s Eternal Source of Light Divine. Now, as the soloist’s voice rang out above our heads, I thought I’d chosen well. Indeed, as Meg came nearer and nearer, I was giving thanks for all my choices.
Amazing that I could even hear the music over the sound of my own heartbeat as Meg stepped up, took my hand.
The present dissolved, the past came rushing back. Our first tentative messages on Instagram. Our first meeting at Soho House. Our first trip to Botswana. Our first excited exchanges after my phone went into the river. Our first roast chicken. Our first flights back and forth across the Atlantic. The first time I told her: I love you. Hearing her say it back. Guy in splints. Steve the grumpy swan. The brutal fight to keep her safe from the press. And now here we were, the finishing line. The starting line. For the last few months, not much had gone according to plan. But I reminded myself that none of that was the plan. This was the plan. This. Love. I shot a glance at Pa, who’d walked Meg down the last part of the aisle. Not her father, but special just the same, and she was moved. It didn’t make up for her father’s behavior, for how the press had used him, but it very much helped.
Aunt Jane stood and gave a reading in honor of Mummy. Song of Solomon. Meg and I chose it.
Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away…
Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm;
For love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave…
Strong as death. Fierce as the grave. 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.
We were grateful for every person in and around St. George’s, and watching on TV, but our love began in private, and being public had been mostly pain, so we wanted the first consecration of our love, the first vows, to be private as well. Magical as the formal ceremony was, we’d both come to feel slightly frightened of…crowds. Underscoring this feeling: The first thing we saw upon walking back up the aisle and out of the church, other than a stream of smiling faces, were snipers. On the rooftops, amid the bunting, behind the waterfalls of streamers.
Police told me it was unusual, but necessary. Due to the unprecedented number of threats they were picking up.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
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Ahhh, their first roast chicken….
 
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wibble

wibble

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Anna2020 said:
PA WANTED TO HELP choose the music for the ceremony so he invited us one night to Clarence House, for dinner and…a concert.
music.
He wholly endorsed our desire to have an orchestra rather than an organist, and he played an assortment of orchestras to get us in the mood. After a time, we segued into classical, and he talked about his love of Beethoven. Meg spoke about her own deep feeling for Chopin.
Meg evoked so much in him, qualities I’d rarely seen. In her presence Pa became boyish. I saw it, saw the bond between them growing stronger, and I felt strengthened in my own bond with him. So many people were treating her shabbily, it filled my heart to see my father treating her like the princess she was about to—maybe born to—become.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
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"I like Chopin's Rhapsody in Blue: I do."

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toninottony

toninottony

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Anna2020 said:
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
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This sounds so high school
 
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toninottony

toninottony

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I’m just curious in these book excerpts he keeps calling his father “pa” is that normal? I keep getting a ma and pa kettle movie or little house on the prairie vibe from that 🤭🤭🤭😆😆😵‍💫😵‍💫🤪
 
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