Royalty + antiquity

 

Yesterday. It was an enormously busy day for a Saturday. I wolfed down a cup of coffee, two croissants with blueberry-lavender jam. There was just enough time to get dressed and out the door to Casa Loma. Once there we spent two hours at a Queen’s Own Rifles reception in celebration of the regiment’s 150th birthday. After about an hour and a half the many attendees were able to meet HRH Princess Alexandra.

Since this was an army event, I assumed it would be very orderly. I thought that we would all be lined up in a receiving line to meet Her Royal Highness. It was considerably more ad hoc and as a result, somewhat anti-climatic by the time we actually met Princess Alexandra. She was lovely. Soft spoken. And then it was time for the honour guard which took place outside. Crowds gathered curiously to see what was going on. I snapped a few photos.

Following our early afternoon at the Castle. We set out to Ikea to pick up some frames and furniture. I proceeded to spend the rest of Saturday assembling our new tv stand and the dressing table now in our bedroom. As I was putting the final touches on the bedroom, Mike left his essay for a few minutes to take a peek. He was intrigued by my idea to position our existing mirror horizontally above the new dressing table.

Mike then proceeded to share a story about the mirror. Explaining that the mirror had come from his old house and used to be his grandmother’s. Oh my how old was it then? Since she had been gone for 13 years and it was not “new” when she got it, he estimated it could be anywhere from 20-30 years old. I was quite surprised to hear this. I had painted the frame black earlier in the year and suddenly felt like I should have asked permission to alter something which had been his grandmother’s.  I explained that I had assumed it was just some mirror from Walmart and that painting it over would be fairly insignificant. Anyway, after he had shared this whole long story about the mirror I suggested he turn it over and see if there was a stamp of some kind on the backing that would give us a clue as to how old it was or where it was bought. There was no stamp. There was, however, a barcode sticker that said “Walmart Canada Inc”.

We both burst out laughing.

So I guess this wasn’t his grandmother’s mirror. For the rest of the day, Mike would pick up random objects in the house and ramble off a made-up story about its historical origins. My favourite remains the mirror story.

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