Our Crowning Glory!

You know how I've been sort-of cleaning, Three Readers?

Well, I've put a lot of things in bags; I've moved the bags about; I've tossed some grimy bath toys and odd socks; and I've put other stuff aside to consider later.

As I was culling the clutter, I found this little fellow packed away with a scary knitted clown.

I bought him when I was misty-eyed and expecting Child 3.

He is a little Danish Prince rattle and I've named him 'Fred'. Which is good because Child 4 has a rattly doll called 'Princess Mary'.

 Everything is turning out fine.

 And the Danish Royal Family is our favourite because they're in the vicinity of Denmark, are moderately good-looking, and probably have enough kroner to buy as much Danish furniture and vintage Royal Copenhagen ceramics as they desire. 

And to that I say, "Gå i stykker jer artig genstand", which I was hoping to mean, "Go you good thing!" but when I re-translated it, it came out as "GÃ¥ to pieces you sizeable drink".

Anyway, you don't have to be a Woman's Day reader to know where this is headed, with some pomp and ceremony, Three Readers.

That's Right! To the Fisher Price Play Family Castle!

I still have most of the pieces ... see the little blue Prince and Princess? Predictably, the foam on all the beds has disintegrated.

The King and Queen are missing, sadly.

Remember the flag? It needs a clean. It makes a redolent 'doi-yoi-yoi-yoi-yoi-yoi' sound when you spring it back. 

And we have the coach ... but the horse is a bit low-to-the-ground because his hooves have snapped off, as the plastic's become brittle with age.

You'd go to the knackers if that happened and you were a Mattel horse ... but we know Fisher Price is more forgiving of foibles.

We're missing the armoured knight and his brown steed, but the footman and this stoic old cow informed me they were familiar with the Stanislavski Method, and were willing to stand in.

Huh! Who's that Machiavellian magician-type fellow lurking in the shadows of the hidden vault beneath the stairs? I suspect skullduggery's afoot .... straight to the dungeon with him!

Little does this tuxedoed-trespasser know, that with one ill-advised step, he will plummet to his death in the dungeon below!

Take that you top-hatted mischief maker!  

Gasp! Are the children unharmed?

Yes, thank goodness. They're sitting at their permanently laid dinner table, which is why they don't look like they miss their parents very much.

But sometimes they like to browse through old photos to remind themselves of happier, fuller days. 

Oh, where be the lovable dragon?

Good try, irrepressible horsey!