Dear George,

How have you been?

All’s well with us, and we’re still loving life pottering around the house. We’re surrounded by nice people, but it’s good to be home again after all that baby cooing yesterday, and back to our own desk. We are in the heart of it all, and things are really heating up. In fact, it’s getting quite hot in here.

It’s been a while since we wrote you a proper letter and so much has changed, in fact we really don’t know where to begin.

Gosh we’ve just been leafing through our scrapbook and are tickled to note that old foul bunch-back’d toad Richard III, whom we finally managed to despatch this year, was crowned King of England 532 years ago, preceded by Richard the Lionheart 826 years ago today.

Goodness, there’s a little smudgie where the ink got on my finger. You’d think it would stay in the nib, but no! Naughty nib.

We are still so grateful to you for charging to our rescue early last year. The thing is we’ve got something that we need to get off our chest.

We want to tell you about our figure. It’s getting bigger. It’s quite a lot bigger than twelve months ago, and even the year before. It’s certainly bigger than three years ago, and in fact, it might be the biggest it’s ever been.

We are simply delighted to hear that you will be setting out on Wednesday to protect people like us who may want to downsize, but are worried that their families will miss out on the benefits of your new proposed tax break.

How time flies – did you know it was 480 years ago to the day that Thomas More, Lord High Chancellor, was beheaded for treason?

Let’s meet to discuss this soon. We want you not to worry. We must dash to get the post.

We loved the tie you wore in your interview with the BBC yesterday. It was so blue. Blue blue blue. We hope you got to talk about other things than Greece. Did you get very tired doing it? Those chairs are so small for a well built man.

Keep it up.
Elizabeth.