Things I want but know I’ll never have.

As I sit here trying to decide what I want for dinner I’m thinking why not kill a couple of birds with a rock and also write a Howdygram post. So here I am, throwing rocks. My first order of business is a short list of things I want but know I’ll never have, a fantasy that frequently comes to mind now that I’m a senior citizen with false teeth and a cane.

1. A teeny helicopter.
2. A gated driveway.
3. A SodaStream machine with accessories.
4. A moat.
5. A whole Sara Lee cherry cheesecake with a quart of milk and a spoon.
6. Servants in uniforms.
7. Size 7½ feet.
8. My own cactus pear ranch.

This list doesn’t depress me, however, because I can always fill the emptiness with “Hardcore Pawn” reruns — easily the best show on television — and my adorable, attentive and entertaining husband, Sam. Also Mongolian chicken. Not necessarily in that order.

Yesterday I watched a couple of PBS specials about Britain’s monarchy that taught me a number of exciting new facts about the Windsors, two of which I’ll share with you here.

To begin, this week marks Britain’s annual “swan census” — correctly known as swan upping — during which several crews of silly dudes with fancy outfits and royal canoes patrol the entire length of the River Thames to count swans, which all belong to the Queen, because God forbid a swan should go missing. The chief silly dude is David Barber, Royal Swan Marker. I wonder if he uses a Sharpie.

I also learned that the Yeoman Warders — sometimes called “Beefeaters” — are the Queen’s ceremonial bodyguards at the Tower of London. The key word here is “ceremonial,” since most of these dudes are overweight retirees too old to tie their own shoes. Historically their primary function has been to keep an eye on the crown jewels and look after prisoners, although the latter have been in short supply since 1799. There’s also a Yeoman Warder Ravenmaster whose full-time job is to babysit six ravens. According to legend, if the ravens ever escape the Tower and monarchy will crumble. Even though this is obviously horseshit, the Queen feels justified to pay all of these doofuses a generous annual salary and dress them up like a bunch of cartoon characters. Their positions and uniforms date back to 1485.

The most sought-after career in Britain has to be milliner. Learn how to make hats and you’re set for life. Holy crap.

And now I think I’ll take a hot shower and watch a few of the aforementioned “Hardcore Pawn” reruns. A new episode is airing as I write this post but Sam and I will watch it together when he gets home from work along with this week’s episode of “Deadliest Catch.” Thank you for reading this.