Special thanks to his majesty, Prince William of England, for guest writing this post.
When Isaac asked me to write this post, you can imagine that I was chagrined. How could the peasantry of the world not know, from our repeated example, how to drink water with ice in it? "Surely," I said, "You must be joking." Of course, he was joking, but by the time he told me that I had already dictated these directions in their entirety to my personal scribe, and you know how I hate for anything to go to waste. Willful waste makes woeful want. That's the saying. Anyhow, as it is that I've provided these directions already, and Isaac assures me that they will be useful to somebody -- but who? oh, please, who? -- here they are beneath, and I hope this will not be all too educational. After all, one must hold the hope that there are some manners left in our world, civilized as it is.
You will require:
*A chalice or glass of some sort, obviously. Really, Isaac, do you think this section is necessary? Yes, of course I understand the value of tradition. You were present at my WEDDING, were you not? It just seems like...oh, if you insist, then.
*Water. Any water will do, really. Sir Chandlehorn tests all of my water for clarity, consistency, flavour, and personality -- a family business, I'm told. Sometimes I think he tests more than is really necessary. It's not as though he has a difficult job, is it? How much water does a person need? Honestly. If his parents hadn't met their death of slow poison, I would fire him altogether. Present circumstances considered, I don't think the poor man could handle the strain. Ah, well...
*Some ice. Of course...you know how ice is made, don't you? It's as simple as reducing the temperature of regular water. Now aren't you an educated fellow! I can't say that I've ever seen such a thing done, but I'm assured that it's an entirely natural process.
*A large vase. I do hope I'm not embarrassing the readership of this fine blog. Isaac assures me that every little detail must be spelled out. I'm trying very hard to humor him.
Directions:
1. I suppose you'd start by putting the water into the glass, wouldn't you? Be careful not to fill it too full.
2. Now add the ice. Try to do so gently, so as not to splash water on your robes. Madame Longbury always has a few choice words for me when I've wet my robes. They're dry-clean only, you know.
3. Oh, dear! I seem to have forgotten the proper preparations. Usually they're performed for me. How embarrassing. Before you set down for a meal, your servants must position the vase in your dining-room. You won't want it anywhere too conspicuous. Being raised properly, such as I was, I most prefer to keep the vase in a far corner, where no one will trip over it. However, certain of my subjects prefer it close to the table, for easier access. In any case, the important thing is not to forget it.
4. When drinking water with ice in it -- and I hope not to be too indelicate -- you must open your mouth just a few centimetres wider than when drinking water without ice. Of course, some of the ice will slide in. That's quite all right. Send it gracefully into the vase with a discreet, dignified puff of the cheeks. As I've mentioned, being raised properly, I can usually make my mark with the vase in a far corner of the room. I'm often praised for my gentle, practiced arc. There's nothing to it, I assure you.
5. When the vase is full, the servants will replace it. During the interim it is best not to drink. My father is fond of telling the story of his first visit to Finland, as a child, when he failed to observe the removal of a full vase and was forced to hold an ice cube in his mouth for upwards of five minutes. Oh! I do think I will die of laughter! What a sorry child he must have been.
6. After the meal is over, the servants will take the vase and clean it. I know of a few who prefer to leave the vase if it is under half-full, and replace it at the next meal. Allow me to speak openly on this. Such a practice is unsanitary and also conducive to a rather sickly stench. There are a few whom we no longer invite to parties, and this is the reason.
7. That's quite enough on the matter. I think you've got the idea -- though, again, I must say it's quite absurd that such instruction is needed. The thought of it!
