Will it ever end? Entering a Tesco this week is done so at risk of being dizzyfied by Union Jacks strewn across aisles, smothering everything from Weetabix to dishwasher tablets. I fear for those 'Keep Calm and Get the Beers In' t-shirts. What will happen come a week on Wednesday when we're all a few pounds heavier and wishing we hadn't eaten quite so much coronation chicken and sausage rolls?
I'm not a party-pooper. I'm looking forward to our village 'do' which is being ably and efficiently organised as I type. I love a bit of patriotism every so often but, dear me, this has been going on for ages - since that wedding. Two street parties in two years? It would seem so.
I dreamt that Kwills were going to announce a pregnancy just to make the Jubilee complete. That way, we can have another street party when the next wee Windsor pops out. Might be a bit chilly on the streets in January/February next year but perhaps we can have indoor street parties in houses where they can afford to put the heating on.
So, here we go - paper cups and plates at the ready. Will the sunshine last? Will there be a downpour? Will we all have a good time?
I should jolly well think so.