The Average Family Gathering

If, in the midst of organizing Christmas gatherings and accommodating various - sometimes contrary - characters in families, it is worth sparing an amused thought for Queen Victoria and the challenge she faced in the organization of her Golden Jubilee celebrations. Apart from the representatives from so many corners of her Empire, the more pressing concern was where to house and seat different members of her own family.
Buckingham Palace itself was bursting at the seams; the Duke of Edinburgh had offered the use of Clarence House, and the Prince of Wales was open to guests at Marlborough House. Nonetheless, it would require very careful and tactful planning to ensure that everyone was housed with 'suitable' companions.
Her grandson, the future Wilhelm II, was originally not invited, since his father, the future Frederick III, would be representing the Kaiser. 'Willy' however was angling for an invitation and, to keep Willy's mother, Crown Princess Victoria, happy, Queen Victoria agreed to invite him. He would have to be kept away from his aunt, Beatrice, and his cousin, Victoria of Hesse, since their husbands were 'Battenbergs' and, to Willy's mind, not sufficiently royal or 'of the blood'. His own sister, Moretta, was as that time, still hoping to marry a third Battenberg brother, Sandro - a notion which Willy and his paternal grandfather refused to even consider.
Willy's father, diagnosed with throat cancer, needed to be housed in a place where he could enjoy quiet after the celebrations; and then there was Willy's sister, Charlotte, who was known for making a scene and for whom, the Queen decided, the possibility of staying with her Uncle Bertie - with his 'fast set' - at Marlborough House was hardly appropriate.
Much as the Queen was looking forward to meeting Ella (Grand Duchess Elizabeth) again, she was certainly not so enamoured at the prospect of having to entertain Ella's husband, Serge.
On top of a myriad of other children and grandchildren and their spouses, were the Indian Maharajas and the splendid Queen of Hawaii (whose position in the order of precedence irked Willy, who ridiculously believed that a European prince should come before a black Queen!).
All things considered, the average family gathering is very easily arranged!

Marie-Antoinette's Breguet Watch

The ambitious Frenchman's self-winding watches fascinated Marie-Antoinette. Her husband, Louis XVI, was also impressed with them and owned several. One day the doomed Queen decided that she wanted a watch with a perpetual repeating calendar as well as a self-winding mechanism and challenged the watchmaker to craft one. Hearing of this, an admirer, perhaps Count Axel Fersen, commissioned probably the most famous watch of all time for his beautiful Queen - the Marie-Antoinette. This amazing watch had a perpetual calender, a chiming repeater, a thermemeter, a power-reserve indicator and a chronograph. It was also lovely looking.

Unfortunately, the Breguet watch wasn't completed until 1827, long after the Queen was sent to the guillotine.

Here is a video about the watch:
Marie-Antoinette Watch

Next Time: The amazing story of the theft and possible recovery of the Marie-Antoinette watch.

Merry Christmas!

Thank you to everyone who has visted this blog over the past year!

If you are visiting now, I wish you every blessing of the season and all the loveliness and beauty in your life that you long for!

Whether or not we have met, Merry Christmas to you!

With love,


A Fun Christmas Updo

Because really, I don't know what else to call this.

We did this little ditty on Sunday and I LOVED it. I curled it tighter because, well, I felt like it. Today the curls aren't as tight and I STILL love it!

Start by pulling the hair into little triangle ponytails. With Tess, I started on either side of her bangs and went to her crown, then from that ponytail (and the one on the other side) I went just beneath the ear. What was left, was one more so.
Then I pulled each ponytail into a knot.

A bit closer.

Next, I took each ponytail and combed it to the center. When I had them all in my hand, I went around to each ponytail and pulled a little hair out of either side. You can see them hanging down. The middle I secured in another ponytail that I didn't pull all of the way through. That's just a temporary fix for a minute while I do a few more things.

Curl each of the pieces that you had pulled from the original ponytails and then spray the heck out of them with hairspray (dumb humidity).

Now I pulled the ponytail all of the way through and curled the rest of the pieces. Then I tied a bow around the base and fluffed the ponytail.

Front French Braid into Two Ponytails

I love combining elements. In this one I did a Dutch braid (inside out French braid) from her part to her ear along her hair line. Then I curled all of the hair that was left down, parted it down the middle and pulled the Dutch braid into one half in a ponytail and pulled the other side into a ponytail. To poof it up, I held onto the elastic with one hand and pulled up hair at the crown...just a little, too much and she would have looked a little too boofy.

{I am SO sorry! I just realized that I have a bunch of entries that have no pictures! My computer went crazy for a while and I couldn't upload pictures to the net. I put them all on Photobucket and one day went stir crazy on that site and deleted a bunch, not realizing that they were linked to this site. I will remedy that soon.}

A Little More of Ella's Childhood Christmas

(From The Life & Tragedy of Alexandra Feodorovna by Baroness Sophie Buxhoevden:

"Christmas was celebrated partly in the English and partly in the German way, and was a family feast in which all the household shared. A huge Christmas tree stood in the ballroom, its branches laden with candles, apples, gilt nuts, pink quince sausages, and all kinds of treasures. Round it were tables with gifts for all the members of the family. The servants came in and the Grand Duchess gave them their presents. Then followed a family Christmas dinner, at which the traditional German goose was followed by real English plum pudding and mince pies sent from England. The poor were not forgotten, and Princess Alice had gifts sent to all the hospitals. Later, the Empress continued the same Christmas customs in Russia."

Grand Duchess Elizabeth's Childhood Christmas

From the letters of Princess Alice to Queen Victoria:

Christmas Day 1868:

"Louis [Ella's father] thanks you a thousand times for the charming presents for the children. They showed them to everyone, shouting, "This is from my dear English Grandmama;" and Ella, who is always sentimental, added, "She is so very good, my Grandmama." Irene could not be parted from the doll you gave her, nor Victoria from hers....We spent a very happy Christmas Eve, surrounded by our dear children and our kind relations."

December 23rd 1870 [in the midst of the Franco-Prussian War]

"This morning I have been at the Alice Hospital, which is prospering. I have been taking my gifts for Christmas to one hospital after another. Your two capes have delighted the poor sufferers, and the one wounded for the second time is very bad, alas! My wounded officer in the house is recovering, next to a miracle. For the two wounded in the house, the children, our household, and the children of our servants at the war, I arranged Christmas trees. We grown-up ones of the family have given up Christmas for ourselves. We have too much to do for others, and my parents-in-law, like me, feel the absence of the dear ones who are always here for Christmas."

Christmas Day 1872

"We gave all our servants presents - the whole household and stable - under the Christmas tree, which we made for the children; and when the tree is divided, the children of all our servants come and share it with ours. It keeps the household as a family and is so important. We have fifty people to give to!
...I am so glad Vicky gave such a flattering account of Baby [the future Empress Alexandra of Russia]. She is quite the personification of her nickname 'Sunny' - much like Ella but a smaller head and livelier, with Ernie's dimple and expression."

Half Twists

This one is really super easy.

Using the elements of THIS twist, part the hair down the middle and pull into sections to the ears.

Divide each section in half and twist to the ends. I temporarily held the first one with a clip.

Then repeat on the other side.

Take both twists and pull together. Decide where you want the twists to end and secure with an elastic.

Finish the hair how you would like. I really like this one with a flip and with curls. It's really up to you.

Then tie a ribbon, place a bow or a flower for the weight (this one has a tendency to flip funny).

The Christmas Tree

We did this for her Christmas party at school today. Start at the top with one ponytail. Her's is triangle shaped. Then do a normal smocking style until you get to the bottom. At the bottom divide it into two ponytails.

As far as the accessories, I bought some Christmas buttons and used Jenn's fun accessory idea. Loop the elastic through the button and put on top of the ponytail.

Dear Papa

On December 14th 1861, England lost the greatest king we never had, and Queen Victoria was plunged into mourning for the untimely death, at the age of 42, of her 'beloved angel', Albert.
The mourning continued for many, many years; his night shirt was laid out on his bed ever evening and his shaving water changed each day, and Queen Victoria withdrew from public life for so long - unable to 'face the world alone' - that public patience ran out and a sign was placed on Buckingham Palace gates, saying: "Situation Vacant".
In the immediate aftermath of his death, his second daughter, Alice - mother of Grand Duchess Elizabeth - was the one who held the family together and sustained her mother through those early weeks. Alice was particularly close to her father and resembled him in many way - both exhausted themselves in the service of their countries, and had an overriding sense of the responsibility that came with their privileged positions.
Two years after Prince Albert's death, Alice - now married to Louis of Hesse - write to her mother:
"Pray for me when you kneel at his grace - pray that my happiness may be allowed to last long; think of me when you kneel there where on that day my hand rested on your and Papa's dear hands, two years ago. That bond between us is so strong, beloved Mama. I feel it is a legacy from him."
Seventeen years to the day after her father's death, Alice - having exhausted herself caring for her family who had been struck with diphtheria, succumbed to the illness herself. She had been virtually unconscious for some days when, on 14th December 1878, she opened her eyes and murmured, "Dear Papa!" He had come to take her home.

Site Of The Week: Antoinette's Closet

Antoinette's Closet

This is an exquisite and very well-organised website about Marie-Antoinette's costumes - her real ones and those in the films. Full of beautiful photos and lots of info about the doomed Queen, it's well worth looking at. This will be one of my favourite sites!

Lily-Pie Clips Winner!

Congratulations Flutterbug! Please contact me at the e-mail address to the right with your address so I can get these darling clips to you!

Where Is Empress Elizabeth's Wedding Dress?

Franz Joseph, Emperor of Austria, fell in love with beautiful sixteen year old Elizabeth from Bavaria at first sight. He was meant to marry her sister, Helene, but to his dominating mother's sorrow, could not resist young and impulsive 'Sisi'.

The wedding was suitably splendid, but, unfortunately Sisi's wedding dress has been lost. It was a royal tradition to donate the dresses to a church - it became the property of the basilica Maria Taferi. Now only the silver embroidery which became part of a priest's robe remains. It is on show at the Vienna Sisi Museum.

Merry Christmas Giveaway---times up!

Have you ever had an "I must have it" moment with something? That is absolutely how I feel about this hair accessory!

I have to rave about this. Lily-Pie Designs is one of my FAVORITES out there! Her products are the absolute highest quality and you have never seen anything SO darling in a little girls hair!

Until tomorrow at 5:00pm MST, you have a chance to win one of your very own set of butterfly clips. They are pink with brown and white absolute MUST HAVE for your stocking!

Leave me a comment and then head on over to to find the perfect accessory for your sweetie pie this Christmas!
Oh, and the hair do?
Part the hair into three sections. I start at the ear and go across the head to the other ear.
Pull the top section into a ponytail on one side and the bottom one into a ponytail on the same side.
Pull both into the middle section and secure with an elastic. I pulled the hair into a messy bun.
Top off with some darling butterfly clips that are too cute for words!

Those Who Cannot Learn From History....

"Those who cannot learn from history," wrote George Santayana, "are doomed to repeat it."
In the wonderful BBC series: "World War II, Behind Closed Doors", more of the truth of what actually happened while hundreds of thousands of people were being killed becomes apparent. Of course, so vile a regime as Hitler's had to be stopped, but, as the programme shows the behind the scenes subterfuges between Roosevelt, Stalin and Churchill - often playing each other off against the others - there is the overriding sense of three power-hungry little boys moving toy soldiers around in a game. Sadly, the game is all too serious and not one of the three little boys in old men's bodies seems to have any care whatsoever for the millions who are dying. The usual presentation of immediate history is usually a gloss over a power-seeker's plans and the truth only come to light years after the event.
All of this really begs the question - how long before individuals stop being led by those playing out their games on the world stage? How long before we stop being told and start to think for ourselves?
Hitler could never have done what he did, on his own. Nor could Stalin. Nor, for that matter, could Churchill. And each of those people, in their own country, convinced the masses of ordinary people that they were acting for their benefit, for the good of the country and on their behalf. Supposing the people had just said, "We live our own lives. We have no reason to attack another country, or to be governed by another country. We just get on and do what we do - not told what to do, not telling anyone else what to do. We care for and respect one another." Then the boys would have had to return to their toy boxes.
Of course, that is so simplistic and I am merely naive. But to my mind the real naiveté lies in thinking we cannot think for ourselves. For centuries millions of people have gone to their deaths in someone else's cause - and the ultimate cause, when all the propaganda is stripped away, is usually some weakness in the leader, that he desperately tries to hide behind a mask of strength. Jealousy, fear, something from childhood he never outgrew. Millions more people have willingly handed over their power to other - we need to be told what is good for us, what is bad for us; how we should raise and educate our children...and who knows these things better than we do ourselves?
To return to the original point; it seems that history is now to be played down in Primary Schools. How will have any sense of identity, and means of learning from the mistakes of our forebears, any means of knowing who we are? Without history, we are like people with no idea where we came from; no past experience to guide us. Perhaps that's the plan - after all, in so many regimes where tyrants rule, history is re-written or wiped out altogether.

The Dashing Prince of Battenberg

The Princes of Battenberg were among the most handsome princes in Europe - and none was more dashing that 'Sandro' (Alexander), who, at the recommendation of Tsar Alexander II of Russia, was briefly appointed as the Sovereign Prince of the newly-autonomous Bulgaria.
Moretta fell head-over-heels in love with Sandro and, during a visit to Potsdam, he reciprocated her feelings but - alas! - in the eyes of the proud Prussian court, Sandro, whose mother was a 'commoner' (albeit a brilliant one!) was not of sufficiently royal blood to become the husband of a daughter and sister of a future Kaiser.
For seven years, fluctuating between despair and hope, Moretta prayed that they would be allowed to marry but, the death of Sandro's advocate, Tsar Alexander II, and the turmoil in Bulgaria only added to the intransigence of the Prussian Court. It mattered not that Sandro's brothers had married a daughter and a granddaughter of Queen Victoria. Sandro was ousted from Bulgaria and, returning to Darmstadt, married an opera singer.
The death of Moretta's beloved father increased her despair, and, in her depression she decided he was 'too ugly' and 'too fat' to ever find a husband and embarked upon a drastic diet, bordering on anorexia. It was left to Queen Victoria to take her in hand, inviting her to England in the summer of 1889, with a view to restoring her to health.
And now, another Sando was suggested as a possible husband - the Russian Grand Duke Sandro Mikhailovich.
"I am thinking a great deal about this 'sailor-boy'," Moretta wrote to her mother, "I wonder if anything will come of it - perhaps by the time we meet, I shall know something.".....

Moretta's Mourning...

Moretta, I think, longed more than anything for love. She wanted something so simple, really - a husband and children - nothing more. She had no real interest in politics or even in being a princess. She loved her parents, was a very dutiful daughter, was born at a time of mourning - her father, the future German Emperor Frederick III, had left for battle, and her mother, Queen Victoria's eldest daughter, the brilliant Empress Frederick - was distraught over the death of her little boy, Sigismund. No wonder little Moretta had such a horror of old ladies in black dresses. I imagine that from her cradle, she was surrounded by women in mourning dress, frantic and broken-hearted, bringing with them an atmosphere of gloom which seemed to haunt Moretta for the rest of her life.


Among all the grandchildren of Queen Victoria, Moretta of Prussia is somehow close to my heart. Perhaps it is because she seems to be one of the forgotten ones who has no place in history. Her life was - in the great scheme of how things are written in history - insignificant. She wasn't a saint, she wasn't a heroine, she was, from the start, an also-ran, I guess, and yet I feel for her.

There is a beautiful book of letters from a few brief months of her life, "Queen Victoria at Windsor and Balmoral", edited by James Pope-Hennessy, which gives such a picture into her thoughts, and her thoughts are so touching. The letters are taken from a time when she was - possibly suffering from some kind of anorexia - staying with her grandmother, Queen Victoria. Over the next few days, I would like to write more thoughts about her.

The forgotten people - like the children in the mills and mines, or the members of royal families who play 'bit parts' in history - always stike me as so interesting.

Freedom and Learning from History

In the ancient days of 'O' levels, it was necessary to learn dates and names - The Treaty of Vienna, the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk, the Treaty of Versailles; Hastings, Agincourt, Edgehill, The Somme...So much of it was made up of battles - who won, who lost, how the boundaries of countries were redrawn.
Behind the dates and facts were outcomes and it was very much like the old cliché of 'history is one damned thing after another.'
Eventually, social history was introduced. Out went the battles, the treaties and the maps, and in came what was basically a history of 'the poor'. In came factories, children at work, inventions, railways, unions, schools: a kind of history of 'the people.'
It is my firm belief that the only way to learn from history is to understand the individuals - not 'children at work' not kings and rulers or politicians, but individuals: their motivations and psychology because the more we looks at these things, the more we seem them played out time after time.
How many insane rulers have dominated societies? And, more the point, how many millions of people have listened to those rulers, believing themselves powerless until it came to a point where they could stand it no more and the outcome was either a bloody revolution or a war? It seems that throughout history 98% of people have wanted to be led. They did not want to look into psychology or motivation - their own or anyone else's - to see beyond the appearance of things and so sleepwalked into their own abyss. They did not ask, "Why does this man want to rule us? Why do we need to be ruled?" Instead they said, "He is the king/president/Fuhrer/Caesar and he will change everything and make everything wonderful for us!" Perhaps he is a wise king and does his best. Perhaps he is an avaricious power-seeking person. Perhaps he is completely insane ..It doesn't matter what he is - what matters is that people have forgotten that they have the ability to choose their own course, make their own decisions and have entrusted their lives to him.
The bad news is (to my mind) that person can never deliver the expectations.
When they wake up to this fact, the response is anger and a sense of betrayal. If the ruler is a good man, wanting the best for his people - like Tsar Nicholas - they destroy him. If he is a power-seeking individual, like Stalin or Lenin, he destroys them.
The good news is (to my mind) we can learn from history and the biggest lesson is to realize that no one is going to change our world and make it great and make everything right. Only we, as individuals, can change our own lives. There isn't anyone to do this for us. I would venture so far as to say - from a religious perspective - Jesus and all the great spiritual leaders, handed power back to people and what did they do? They ran after him saying, "Saviour! Saviour! Save us!"
King, Tsar, President, Fuhrer, Comrade, Saviour....They never deliver and we kill them are allow them to crush us. Our choice is to wake up and say, "We no longer need to look outside ourselves to someone else to give us freedom or prosperity or hope. It is all within us and there is no one to blame, no one to depend on and no one to deceive us." Freedom comes when we stop expecting it to come from someone else.


The docu-drama, "World War II, Behind Closed Doors" shows the manipulation and endless one-upmanship between Churchill, Stalin and Roosavelt. Sometimes it seems as those three men sat down and played a game of chess with people's lives. The masses of ordinary people were the pawns in the game, all believing they were fighting for the good of humanity.
When the programme shows interiors of the Kremlin Palaces and shows Stalin walking down those corridors, I cannot help but think how history wrote of 'Bloody Nicholas' - a man who loved his people, who abdicated to prevent a civil war and so as not to abandon his allies - and compare it with the really bloody butcher, Stalin, who for his own aggrandizement murdered millions of his own people as well as the thousand of Polish officers and, basically, anyone who stood in the way of his plans.

Dear Nicholas II never wanted to be Tsar. He never asked for power. He did not want to rule and took his place because he felt it was his duty. What came after him? Greedy, selfish, envious power-seeking Lenin and Stalin...

At the signing of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk, Nicholas - then in captivity - said, "And they call me a traitor!"
Seeing Churchill, Roosavelt and Stalin, you have to think, "And they call him 'Bloody' Nicholas"????

Being Left-Handed

I never saw much in being left-handed; no one ever made anything of it (apart from people saying, "Don't you write strangely?" but I know of other people for whom it was a major issue. It was amazing to me that, according to a recent TV documentary, George VI's stammer came from his father insistance that he write with his right hand. Maybe our brains work differently, or maybe nowadays something is being made of something that is of no significance.

Having grown up in a right-handed world, I can't use left-handed scissors or many of the other things which are now created to accommodate us left-handed people. The biggest thing for me was being unable to sew or knit until I read something about how these things are taught to us by right-handers and we are trying to battle against something that comes naturally to us...But I guess my brain has been so busily working to be right-handed that these things are just too befuddling for it.

A few famous left-handers include - Leonardo Da Vinci, Lewis Carroll, Franz Kafka, Thomas Carlyle, Bob Dylan, Prince William (good for him!) etc. etc. It's fun to be different..a bit like those people who have a different blood group...and that's another story....

I'd like to hear of other people's left-handed experiences....

If Shakespeare knew the Romanovs...

Shakespeare's model of writing, grounded in Aristotle's formula - the tragic hero/protagonist who had to be noble and whose destiny was wrought by his own fatal flaw, and who met a tragic end, is something so timeless and inspiring.

When it comes to writing of the Romanovs, all the elements are already in place: the king, (or Tsar), the glory (Imperial Russia), the secret tragedy (Alexei's haemophilia), the fatal flaw, (Nicholas' trust in other people) and the ultimate tragedy (the massacre of a family - a massacre so tragic that it is far more powerful than the end of Hamlet, where everyone is slain) . The Romanov story fits Shakespeare's and Aristotle's pattern to such a degree that I often wish that Shakespeare were still here to write their true story with his depths of understanding of psychology and motivation, and his own brilliant command of language!

Oh, for another Shakespeare to write this story! Often I think that when Nicholas and Alexandra were in captivity, these words from King Lear might well have been something they could have shared:

"We two alone will sing like birds i' the we'll live,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too,
Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out;
And take upon 's the mystery of things,
As if we were God's spies…"

And the death of the beautiful Tsarevich Alexei...wouldn't Shakespeare have written,
"Goodnight, sweet prince, and flight of angels guide thee to thy rest..."

Ah! For another Shakespeare to tell their tale!

Technique---Curling with a flat-iron

Finally! A new post, and a tutorial to boot! I have had many, many, many requests for this. My apologies. I have been waiting for my husband to be home long enough to take pictures. That hasn't happened...he has been a little busy with a work project, so I pulled out my handy dandy tri-pod and my old camera with a remote. Unfortunately, the remote wasn't working. You really need both hands to do this so I hope explain it well.

I put in some Garnier Curl Sculpting Creme and went to work. When I curl their hair with a flat iron, I usually curl the ends under first. I can't always get the ends the way I want and this eliminates that frustration. So start at the base of the hair and slide the iron down and when you get almost to the bottom, twist the flat-iron just ever so slightly to get a nice bent under shape, more if you want more curls.
Like so.

Take a section of hair and separate it from the rest of the hair. Clamp your flat iron on the base of the hair. I take the end of the hair and wrap it around the flat iron, if only to give it direction and keep it going in the same movement. This is where the bevel on your flat-iron comes into play. You are basically using the bevel to curl the hair. So after I clamp onto the hair, I pull the hair on the bevel in the direction I am curling. Now, keeping the iron clamped, slowly slide it away from the base of the hair towards you. As you are sliding it out, you slowly twist the flat iron like you would when wrapping hair in a curling iron

See how I have my hand holding onto her hair and it is wrapped around the iron? That is not a necessary makes for more control AND it keeps the hair together to make more of a ringlet. If you don't do that, the curl ends up being unpredictable.

Here is where I am twisting and sliding at the same time.

Follow this same fluid movement to the end of the hair.

And let go.

This second one shows more detail than the first.



Twisting and sliding

Now I find as I get towards the end that sometimes the hair gets tight, so I loosen my grip on my flat iron.

Like so

Then pull your flat-iron out of the hair towards the ground.

Finish the hair

All this took me two minutes, tops.

But I didn't want to leave ringlets, so I ran my fingers through the curls.

And separated them by pulling the top from the bottom.

Then sprayed

And scrunched


I hope this helps for those who have questions. When my husband gets home...a video as well.


I love statues - I try not to, but I can't help it.

Our cities are filled with statues most of which we pass by, never knowing anything about what or whom they represent. It's lovely to see the instantly recognizable Queen Victoria in most English cities, and then there are forgotten soldiers and heroes of wars that are now politically incorrect but who mattered once, and occasionally are moved or hidden away, according to what is acceptable in any given age. Churches are filled with statues that bear no resemblance whatsoever to the lives of the saints they are supposed to represent - gentle smiles and uplifted eyes as though they suffer nothing in the midst unspeakable torture! - and all the same, I love statues - they tell stories.

One day, I went to Westminster Abbey in search of the statue of Ella - Grand Duchess Elizabeth. After searching every nook and cranny (and finding some amazing stories but unable to find Ella) I gave up, disheartened, went outside and, sitting in the sun (a rare sight that summer!), looked up at the sky and saw her among the other 20th Century martyrs above the West Door. It took me by happy surprise - always looking the wrong place and then finding what I was looking for when I gave up trying. There was something poignant about that, too...the thought of her being out of sight, in second place...a bit like those statues that are lost beneath leafy glades and overgrown parks - a footnote in history. And there is something that I think she would have appreciated about that - the kind of statue that says, "Yes, I did what I did. Maybe I made a difference for some people and I don't want to be centre-stage."

It rather reminds me of children running through poppy fields besides war memorials. The busy world goes on, we walk past statues and whether they are heroes, kings, villains or saints, it all just goes to making up life today. Statues make me think of the athletes in races who hand on the baton. Statues seems to say, "Okay, it's your race now...go on and take it up from where we left off...."

I wonder if, when Ella walked into the Abbey for her grandmother's Golden Jubilee celebration, she looked up at the door and had any inkling that one day her statue would stand there. I doubt she did and I'm glad it does.