My Royal Day

It's a day like any other, but not really. It may have started the same, first my bike ride which lasts a half hour, sometimes more. Still, it's 5.30 A.M. as I tread the pedals on the cycle path. I always cook my breakfast, half a dozen vegetables, perhaps a feta omelette to go with it and by 6.30 or so I have ridden sufficient to get my heart pumping, cooked my breakfast and eaten it, and I am back on my bike riding again. I try not to use a car as much as possible, as the exercise is better for me than sitting behind a steering wheel. Most weeks I might use it only the once, that's winter and summer alike, so my average car mileage is 3,000 or so per year, about half what would be likely for me because I go twice as far in my short trips that I likely would not do with a car. The long trips I cannot do any other way clock up the miles, it's not the local ones.

As I ride along the meadow, the birds crisscross my path like darting arrows, surprised by my silent shadow because nothing has disturbed them yet. Not too many people walk the paths I take at this time of day, but when they do, they too are jerked into reality, but the ringing of my bike bell was not silent, they silenced it with plastic ear buds that make them utterly unaware that they are interminably obstructive as they poke fingers at their phones and wander disoriented from side to side on the narrow path of their unconsciousness. Their accusatory glare always suggests you should sound a warning bell, even though you did, many times in reasonable succession.

A cormorant lifts from its spiked stake and drops in a dive head first. I pull over for a second to see where he pops up. 20 feet from where he went in, he comes up and swims before lifting off and then gathers speed on strong wing beats into the rising sun. The cuckoo arrived a couple of weeks ago. I'm assuming the same one I always hear from the same wood, a short-distance away. The air is fresh and clear, the sky, a clear span of bright blue, ever so slightly tinted to green by the yellow of the sun, and I am thinking about this day in particular. I am on my way to my morning tea in a coffee chain shop called Costa. It's a pleasant spot where I sit in the window and write for an hour or two each morning. From there I ride to my second coffee shop that's always my favourite. I meet my friend, nod my hellos and catch up on our chitchat, until I start to write again. It's still tea1

This particular morning, I make two dovetails to finish an episode of the coat cabinet for my those learning real woodworking with me on woodworking masterclasses and Sellers' home. This concludes two episodes ready for Natalie to edit. I am sure you will recognise her craft in editing and making video content to be exemplary of careful crafting. She's a gem.

By the end of this project there will be about 14 sliding dovetails of different type, two half-lap dovetails and two housing dadoes; not one of them will be visible when the cabinet is finished. I also made a French cleat yesterday (got it the wrong way round but kept the mistake in the video) and soon I will be ready to hang it in the house.

My next non-woodworking tasks are to clean my dressier black shoes, take my suit from its protective hanger bag, find my passport and a utility bill and retrieve my invitation to the Palace. Yes, this is my visit with royalty day. What started out as very usual for me will end up being very unusual. Rosy is not too impressed with my shoe shining objective.

I am two hours from driving into Oxford to meet my daughter-in-law. We'll take a taxi to the station and catch the train to London's Paddington Station. From there it's a taxi ride to Buckingham Palace and the very unfamiliar territory of Royalty, and we join the swelling ranks of those invited there too

My reason for telling you all of this is not to boast or just fill in a blank space, but to take you all with me. No matter anyone's belief, political, faith or whatever, the reason I am going is that the King wants to recognise those from Britain who have invested substantively in education and training in various spheres to pass on knowledge and skills to a future generations of the people of Britain. Without you, I would not be going.

When the gates open, we walk in to the back of Buckingham Palace. Everything so far this morning went very smoothly. I did get my dovetails cut and fitted just fine, after which I needed to change and dress into my suit. Hannah commented, "Wow, so smart. You brush up pretty well, hey?!"

Of all the events I've found myself involved with, the coordination and benefit of this one far exceeds the best of the rest. It was by far the best coordinated of all, but much more than that, I cannot imagine how so many people in one event could ever have been more respected. The King's support, every man and woman, served every person there and went out of their way to make certain every detail was taken care of.

Of course, it's worth mentioning here too, I will never have met so many creatives in one three-hour event and with such a beautiful backdrop, and I doubt many elsewhere in the world will have either. To say it is an honour to be there is one way of putting it, but, feeling as I did for the full three hours, I really prefer to say I was simply and very much honoured being here. Some 7,000 guests were invited, so 3,500 involved in education and skills teaching and training at least. Katrina and I met and chatted to people as we sat or walked through the carefully managed areas.

I had not envisioned actually meeting the King, he would be busy meeting as many people as he could, but I was within a few feet of him as he passed through the crowds surrounding him. Mostly he listened to what people said to him, but he did ask questions and made comments. He spent about two hours exchanging conversations and making connections. He was so at ease with everyone, too. There was a standard no one let slip for a second. He was very respectful.

And then there is respect for and from the LTDA (London Taxi Drivers Association) who coordinated the delivery of hundreds of taxis to remove 7,000 people from Buckingham Palace at the end of the event. Twenty minutes from queue to a taxi, and we were on our way across London to arrive with ten minutes spare to the train from Paddington train station.

My closing thoughts on this special day were feeling loved, respected and cared for throughout every single minute of my visit.