Shame it wasn't the Titanic he helped her into, still shi t doesn't sink, it only floats
- Status
New to Tattle Life? Click "Order Thread by Most Liked Posts" button below to get an idea of what the site is about:
The paperback edition…
Obscure UK 80’s kid reference
Obscure UK 80’s kid reference
For days and days we couldn’t stop hugging the children, couldn’t let them out of our sight—though I also couldn’t stop picturing them with Granny. The final visit. Archie making deep, chivalrous bows, his baby sister Lilibet cuddling the monarch’s shins.
Sweetest children, Granny said, sounding bemused. S
he’d expected them to be a bit more…American, I think? Meaning, in her mind, more rambunctious.
Now, while overjoyed to be home again, doing drop-offs again, reading Giraffes Can’t Dance again, I couldn’t stop…remembering.
Day and night, images flitted through my mind. Standing before her during my passing-out parade, shoulders thrown back, catching her half smile. Stationed beside her on the balcony, saying something that caught her off guard and made her, despite the solemnity of the occasion, laugh out loud. Leaning into her ear, so many times, smelling her perfume as I whispered a joke.
Kissing both cheeks at one public event, just recently, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder, feeling how frail she was becoming.
Making a silly video for the first Invictus Games, discovering that she was a natural comedienne.
People around the world howled, and said they’d never suspected she possessed such a wicked sense of humor—but she did, she always did!
That was one of our little secrets.
In fact, in every photo of us, whenever we’re exchanging a glance, making solid eye contact, it’s clear: We had secrets. Special relationship, that’s what they said about us, and now I couldn’t stop thinking about the specialness that would no longer be.
The visits that wouldn’t take place.
Ah well, I told myself, that’s just the deal, isn’t it?
That’s life.
Still, as with so many partings, I just wished there’d been…one more goodbye.
Soon after our return, a hummingbird got into the house. I had a devil of a time guiding it out, and the thought occurred that maybe we should start shutting the doors, despite those heavenly ocean breezes.
Then a mate said: Could be a sign, you know?
Some cultures see hummingbirds as spirits, he said. Visitors, as it were. Aztecs thought them reincarnated warriors. Spanish explorers called them “resurrection birds.”
You don’t say? I did some reading and learned that not only are hummingbirds visitors, they’re voyagers.
The lightest birds on the planet, and the fastest, they travel vast distances—from Mexican winter homes to Alaskan nesting grounds.
Whenever you see a hummingbird, what you’re actually seeing is a tiny, glittering Odysseus.
So, naturally, when this hummingbird arrived, and swooped around our kitchen, and flitted through the sacred airspace we call Lili Land, where we’ve set the baby’s playpen with all her toys and stuffed animals, I thought hopefully, greedily, foolishly:
Is our house a detour—or a destination?
For half a second I was tempted to let the hummingbird be. Let it stay.
But no.
Gently I used Archie’s fishing net to scoop it from the ceiling, carry it outside.
Its legs felt like eyelashes, its wings like flower petals.
With cupped palms I set the hummingbird gently on a wall in the sun.
Goodbye, my friend.
But it just lay there.
Motionless.
No, I thought.
No, not that. Come on, come on.
You’re free. Fly away.
And then, against all odds, and all expectations, that wonderful, magical little creature bestirred itself, and did just that.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
Sweetest children, Granny said, sounding bemused. S
he’d expected them to be a bit more…American, I think? Meaning, in her mind, more rambunctious.
Now, while overjoyed to be home again, doing drop-offs again, reading Giraffes Can’t Dance again, I couldn’t stop…remembering.
Day and night, images flitted through my mind. Standing before her during my passing-out parade, shoulders thrown back, catching her half smile. Stationed beside her on the balcony, saying something that caught her off guard and made her, despite the solemnity of the occasion, laugh out loud. Leaning into her ear, so many times, smelling her perfume as I whispered a joke.
Kissing both cheeks at one public event, just recently, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder, feeling how frail she was becoming.
Making a silly video for the first Invictus Games, discovering that she was a natural comedienne.
People around the world howled, and said they’d never suspected she possessed such a wicked sense of humor—but she did, she always did!
That was one of our little secrets.
In fact, in every photo of us, whenever we’re exchanging a glance, making solid eye contact, it’s clear: We had secrets. Special relationship, that’s what they said about us, and now I couldn’t stop thinking about the specialness that would no longer be.
The visits that wouldn’t take place.
Ah well, I told myself, that’s just the deal, isn’t it?
That’s life.
Still, as with so many partings, I just wished there’d been…one more goodbye.
Soon after our return, a hummingbird got into the house. I had a devil of a time guiding it out, and the thought occurred that maybe we should start shutting the doors, despite those heavenly ocean breezes.
Then a mate said: Could be a sign, you know?
Some cultures see hummingbirds as spirits, he said. Visitors, as it were. Aztecs thought them reincarnated warriors. Spanish explorers called them “resurrection birds.”
You don’t say? I did some reading and learned that not only are hummingbirds visitors, they’re voyagers.
The lightest birds on the planet, and the fastest, they travel vast distances—from Mexican winter homes to Alaskan nesting grounds.
Whenever you see a hummingbird, what you’re actually seeing is a tiny, glittering Odysseus.
So, naturally, when this hummingbird arrived, and swooped around our kitchen, and flitted through the sacred airspace we call Lili Land, where we’ve set the baby’s playpen with all her toys and stuffed animals, I thought hopefully, greedily, foolishly:
Is our house a detour—or a destination?
For half a second I was tempted to let the hummingbird be. Let it stay.
But no.
Gently I used Archie’s fishing net to scoop it from the ceiling, carry it outside.
Its legs felt like eyelashes, its wings like flower petals.
With cupped palms I set the hummingbird gently on a wall in the sun.
Goodbye, my friend.
But it just lay there.
Motionless.
No, I thought.
No, not that. Come on, come on.
You’re free. Fly away.
And then, against all odds, and all expectations, that wonderful, magical little creature bestirred itself, and did just that.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
Wasn't it height of covid pandemic aswell? LA/California had strict rules because they had it bad. So Abigail came round to visit a baby and a pregnant woman during a time most people were scared? Was Harold allowed in the hospital when most other people could only go alone?
Thank you to all the professionals, medical experts, and coaches for keeping me physically and mentally strong over the years.
Dr. Lesley Parkinson,
Dr. Ben Carraway and Kevin Lidlow, and also Ross Barr, Jessie Blum, Dr. Kevin English, Winston Squire, Esther Lee, John Amaral, and Peter Charles.
Also Kasey, Eric Goodman, and the two Petes.
Special thanks to my U.K. therapist for helping unravel years of unresolved trauma.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex. Spare
Finally THE END
Dr. Lesley Parkinson,
Dr. Ben Carraway and Kevin Lidlow, and also Ross Barr, Jessie Blum, Dr. Kevin English, Winston Squire, Esther Lee, John Amaral, and Peter Charles.
Also Kasey, Eric Goodman, and the two Petes.
Special thanks to my U.K. therapist for helping unravel years of unresolved trauma.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex. Spare
Finally THE END
How could this be when it was prerecordedMust be exhausting, all that collapsing and weeping.
This photo from the article made me lol, waving to fans, more like waving at nothing, I would say...
View attachment 1873455
I love my Mother Country, and I love my family, and I always will.
I just wish, at the second-darkest moment of my life, they’d both been there for me.
And I believe they’ll look back one day and wish they had too.
This sounds abit foreboding.
I just wish, at the second-darkest moment of my life, they’d both been there for me.
And I believe they’ll look back one day and wish they had too.
This sounds abit foreboding.
I'm making a mental note to avoid those therapists.
Take a bow, Anna. You have done magnificent work.
Remind me to never seek help from any of the professionals listed in Harold's thanks.
Last edited:
Regarding the Bridesmaid dresses.
I am no tailor but there is such a contrast between the finished dresses in the HM wedding ( Charlotte top left) and the others. Top right Pippa Middletown’s wedding. Bottom left Eugenie and Jack’s. Bottom right Kate and William’s.
Kate, if she did send that text, would have known every wedding detail would be scrutinised and was right to mention it.
I am no tailor but there is such a contrast between the finished dresses in the HM wedding ( Charlotte top left) and the others. Top right Pippa Middletown’s wedding. Bottom left Eugenie and Jack’s. Bottom right Kate and William’s.
Kate, if she did send that text, would have known every wedding detail would be scrutinised and was right to mention it.
Attachments
My take away from this….
’Ah well, I told myself, that’s just the deal, isn’t it?’
About as deep as a puddle.
As an Irish person I don’t believe he has tarnished the brits at all. He has done a lot of damage to himself. He is the vile one
Yep well done @Anna2020 thank you
If Megatron could afford a first class ticket from
Mexico to the UK, she could afford to pay for a full price sofa from sofa.com
Mexico to the UK, she could afford to pay for a full price sofa from sofa.com
Thank you Anna, you’re a marvel 
So in summary:- he’s a deluded, mentally unwell manchild obsessed with “the Press” even though most people don’t read papers now or give a tit about royal exploits. He’s being gaslit by his wife, who quite probably framed the whole relationship to self service, and clearly wrote herself as some kind of divine, sage protagonist throughout the whole book.
Rather than written as overbearing and regimented as intended, the RF and particularly Willy strike me as thinking Harold is in serious need of mental help and have covered his arse for years (which Sparey Spice has come to think is somehow owed to him).
He’s sick, damaged and dangerous and I really hope he fucks off for good now with his equally sick Hollywood creepy and decadent cronies.
So in summary:- he’s a deluded, mentally unwell manchild obsessed with “the Press” even though most people don’t read papers now or give a tit about royal exploits. He’s being gaslit by his wife, who quite probably framed the whole relationship to self service, and clearly wrote herself as some kind of divine, sage protagonist throughout the whole book.
Rather than written as overbearing and regimented as intended, the RF and particularly Willy strike me as thinking Harold is in serious need of mental help and have covered his arse for years (which Sparey Spice has come to think is somehow owed to him).
He’s sick, damaged and dangerous and I really hope he fucks off for good now with his equally sick Hollywood creepy and decadent cronies.
Later he says they could have used his inheritance but it’s for Archie and Lilibet!
They took a mortgage out for their new home!
Thank feck for that!
And Neon "wild applause" signs only visible in the studio. my husband apparently was snickered at when he recounted (to some work friends) things I've said about haz to him. they seam to like the duo. When the applause started on the show, Mr butterfly said "sorry honey, but they seem to like him". He almost slept on the sofa last night.Except audiences on all talk shows are given instructions on how they are to respond guests. Nothing is spontaneous. Even placards are held up to remind them to clap and shout as if it were the Second Coming after a guest is announced. Partly to build up the guest and partly to show how awesome the host is by getting such a catch to appear on his show.
American showbiz, folks.
DearmGod in Heaven, and all the Saints, please stop the nsanity of the whole situaton. Stop Markle and the Ball-less Wonder from their path of destruction.
Thank you Anna you deserve a mention in the honours list
That? That is not a Spare?
ROFL- this is beyond laughable. He's acknowledging his own uselessness.
Got to hand it to her- she's good.
- Status