The Beatles were at Buckingham Palace in London, England being knighted by Prince Harry and Meghan Markle for their work at the Abbey Road studios.

The Queen was on holiday in one of her territories in the caribbean. Probably jet skiing or parasailing. I think those are the preferred pastimes of nobility. Could take in a quick whale watching tour. Not sure if those are quick. I guess if the whales are agreeable that day.

I usually envision my vacations going that way but usually winds up lightening out of the clear blue sky, while on the beach stuck in seaweed and algae. Instead of vacationing I am sitting in the salon getting my fingernails painted while reading a People Magazine from 2014 and eating a stale blueberry muffin and a bottle of $3.99 champagne from Winn Dixie.

We live on a wheat farm in the country. I thought I saw a rubber chicken under the house, turns out it was a real chicken. Just dead. So we had to get a contractor to come out to identify how the chicken got through the crawl space to begin with. Apparently we don’t have a foundation problem, we have a chicken problem. The chicken hated our feed so bad it clawed its way through the wood between the bottom of the house and cement. How much you need to hate your food to break wood so you can find a place to die in peace. Dramatic. If I am going to protest the food I am going to die where everyone can see me, just to prove a point.

Speaking of proving a point. We live on a wheat farm because my husband Bucky wanted to prove to me he could raise wheat. Not sure if it’s raising or growing wheat. I don’t go outside. Not my dream. My dream was to be one of these classy ladies on the 2014 People Magazine. Living in a beachside house in Malibu. Sipping a really expensive Mai Thai before going to Nobu. Not sure if Nobu is short for something. I am sure classy people know that answer.

I had such dreams. Now I live in Tupelo, Mississippi where dreams come to die. If they were even allowed in the first place. I was actually born, raised and never left Tupelo. Even on a vacation. No one in Tupelo gets the luxury of a vacation. Maybe a day trip to Jackson, if you’re lucky. Elvis was so fortunate to get out. I really would have liked to meet his mother, and ask her what she was thinking when she named one son Elvis and the other Aaron. It’s like naming your twins Alanife and Michael. Or Aaron and Elvis for that matter.

Bucky and I don’t have kids, he’s been so focused on the wheat. It almost seems like the wheat fields are his children, or at least that’s all he has the capacity for. He checks on them every hour. Brings coverings if it’s cold. Says goodnight like clockwork at 10pm….can I have 4 more champagnes please!