The "Times" Book of the Queen Mother

I remember this book, I remember the feelings I had when I looked though its photographs, and thinking about my grandmother's courage in face of adversity, in terrible conditions that today nobody seems to understand or even talk or think about in these parts. Here people pride themselves on being "tough", and laugh when one observes that this is how "desperadoes" or adventurers talk. It shouldn't be that way. After all, this country has already been more than 200 years old already, and the West has already been "won" and "settled". Isn't it time for another type of national identity discourse? Certain definitions are not yet well understood, nor educationally optimally imparted, it seems, and this gives rise to a lot of hurt feelings. Well, for a country whose citizens pride themselves on being tough, they sure seem to have wimped out lately and/or are obsessing too much about hurt feelings and various petty complaints, when they should rather pull up their sleeves and use the most basic civilized tool that their own wonderfully conceived and designed Constitution has bestowed on them, and that they seemingly take for granted in a casual manner: the vote. I do admire the United States, but I am surely somewhat disappointed by some of its current generation role models, and the dearth of such role models as presented in the general media. Which makes me worry about the next generation a little. What will this generation teach its offspring, what will it impart to the next one? Well...this is not exactly a review...it's more of a draft, anticipating a possible future review. All I wanted was to say that I DO remember this book, I do have fond memories associated with looking through its pictures, and I definitely did miss my grandmother very much while I was in the United States. This book helped me at the time with this type of feelings, because I could look at some beautiful photographs, and I could take example from the resilience of our grandparents' generation. Queen Victoria herself would have been surely proud of my grandmother and would have decorated her herself in person if their paths would have somehow miraculously and improbably crossed at some point at the beginning of the 20th century. That much I KNOW for sure. However, unfortunately, Victoria was not alive anymore when my grandmother was born. She had just recently died. They missed one another by a very small amount of time, quite insignificant under a historical scale, actually. In the Western part of the United States there are a lot of people who actually do believe in the transmigration of souls, however silly this may sound. I truly think that from their point of view, it would maybe console them to think, in times of stress or distress, that parts of queen Victoria's soul entered queen Mum's frame as one was dying and the other was being born. I do not personally believe in such things, and I let Royal Historians and archivists do their jobs in peace without confusing thei