I woke up on Sunday morning and turned on Radio 4 to hear some news. Instead, I got a church service which informed me that for sixty years I had benefitted from the queen's unstinting dedication to her job and that, really, she was just an ordinary person (a bit like me, I suppose) and had a good sense of humour. Good to know. A few patriotic hymns later, I turned over to the World Service where there was seemingly endless discussion and comment on the queen's impending trip doon the watter. 'Flotilla' was the word of the day. And the word was being used wrongly! A flotilla is a small fleet. As there were reportedly about a thousand boats, the word of the day should surely have been 'fleet'. Anyway, they were all going to float down the Thames and one or two people wondered about the significance of it all.
After about ten minutes 'flotilla' was becoming deeply etched into my brain cells. What does the word rhyme with?
An unwell gorilla
joined the flotilla
and got decidedly illa.
The sports news brought a kind of relief from matters maritime. A commentator with the fine name of Philip Studd announced that 'Andy Murray's back problems seem to be behind him'.
Over on Radio 2, Louis Armstrong was saying to himself that, indeed, it was a wonderful world (or woild). And so, informed and refreshed, I finally got up to face another day.
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