What a splendid Golden Jubilee weekend! And what a smack in the chops for the minority who said it would be as exciting as cold porridge.

I am amazed my TV set did not spontaneously combust as it sat in the corner from dawn to well after dusk pouring out its little heart as I watched every possible combination of programmes to ensure I missed as little as possible of the razzmatazz on offer.

My heart went out to the poor policemen whose feet must have been killing them by the end of the day and I did hope some of the crowd offered them a drink when their bosses were elsewhere.

The Queen looked absolutely stunning in her array of outfits. She presented her own personal rainbow as she moved through the day and even achieved what I imagine must have been a first when she changed into the brilliant scarlet outfit.

Guildhall can never have witnessed such a sight and I doubt it will ever occur again.

Some folk complained the Queen did not smile enough but my guess is that because she has schooled herself to show no deep emotion in public, she was very close to tears on many occasions and since laughter and tears are close companions, she was keeping a tight rein on feelings.

When the cameras did catch her smiling it was magic. No one will ever know what the celebrations meant to her but they were certainly heartfelt and she must have felt greatly uplifted by the public reaction.

Of course there are the cynics among us who say: "Well, it's all right for her, she has it easy." People seem to forget she is not a young woman any more and is still carrying the burdens of State.

All her family problems are carried out under the remorseless gaze of TV cameras and newspapers but she still comes through with grace.

The community processions were a wonderful idea. I was thrilled to see the Notting Hill Carnival so wonderfully represented, as for many years my daughter, who lives in Notting Hill, has been involved with the parade. My son-in-law, a professional steel band player, plays in competitions.

The amount of organising and the enormous effort that goes into producing those wonderful costumes has to be seen to be believed.

The fireworks were an eye-opener. An old friend of my generation said to me: "Do you remember the boxes of fireworks we used to buy for about half-a-crown, a Catherine wheel or two, one rocket (which often didn't go off), some golden rain and a few sparklers and we thought that was pretty good when we joined up with a couple of neighbours and it was all over in about five minutes."

I bet the Lewes firework societies were biting their nails in anguish when they saw that little lot go up in smoke!

For people of the Third Age who can remember previous celebrations, it was an amazing show of what progress has brought to such occasions.

People all over the world could join in, in a happy and personal way and possibly (dare I whisper such a thought) envy us a way of life which will undoubtedly be under threat if the EU start issuing those Directives and Daughter Directives (Parties and Celebrations - Rules for the Use Of) which would engender such a load of paperwork that the powers that be have probably already started on the forms - to be filled in in triplicate, of course.

We can look back on it with pride and great congratulations to those who organised the whole thing. And if you think I'm a royalist, you'd be right!