****** The dream, however, works especially well during the dull, long, gray days of winter here in New England, a time when we immerse ourselves in the carefree pleasure of monitoring and measuring falling snow and/or sleet, playfully shovelling the stuff, driving through blinding blizzard conditions, all the while maintaining a cheerful demeanor and light-hearted good will toward our fellow man.
****** Lately, the most effective method I use to fall asleep very quickly is the fantasy that I am Her Majesty, the Queen of England. Talk about unobtrusive staff, performing all sorts of tasks merely because I raise an eyebrow or wiggle a Royal digit. I am and have been a devoted fan of the Monarchy since I sat rivetted beside my radio at an ungodly early hour, listening to the voice of the BBC commentator describing the November 20, 1947, Westminster Abbey wedding of Her Royal Highness The Princess Elizabeth to Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten. I was ten years old.
****** Sorry about the size of the photograph. I haven't a clue how to enlarge it.
****** Her Majesty was photographed hundreds of times while on a Walk-About commemorating her 80th birthday. She chose to wear bright, cherry red, a brilliant idea. She's radiant.
******
****** Without the use of OTC or prescription drugs, I find it amazingly easy to fall into the gentle embrace of Morpheus, usually just as I'm about to see to the Corgis or confer a royal decoration for outstanding service to Queen and Country.
****** It occurs to me that simply reading this post has quite possibly caused you to glide into a light doze. Have a nice nap.
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