Anyone for a Sussex Royal potato?

Earlier this week, we accompanied our daughter-in-law, Hannah, to her British citizenship ceremony, she having passed the necessary tests. (Hannah is American, from the great state of Montana. She retains her American citizenship.) She had been offered the opportunity of attending a free ceremony with about 20 others, but this fell on the due date for her second baby. She was not allowed another date unless she paid £100 for a private one. This means, in theory at least, that the authorities could earn £600 an hour if they moved fast. So there were only four of us — Hannah, my wife and I, and our granddaughter Elizabeth, who is nearly 18 months old. We were received by a very friendly woman registrar in a dreary council building in Crowborough and waited briefly while she warmed up the room. The ceremony was simple. Hannah stood near two Union flags and a photograph of the Queen and swore the oath of allegiance to the latter and ‘her heirs and successors according to law’.