January 3, 2016
Sundays have their rhythm here. At least during football season.
The Electrician mans the living room from the time Fantasy Football pregame stuff comes on until he goes to bed. I create a nest in the bedroom. Laptop, Kindle, remotes for the TV, cable and Roku. Snacks within reach. Two pair of reading glasses. Books. Pillows. Fuzzy socks.
Before The Electrician, I had no idea of how the vagaries of the Fantasy Sports world could cast a glow or a pall over a home. Today I am laying low. Offering snacks and soothing words.
For my part, I've rediscovered the variety of offerings on Hulu Plus. True to my nature, instead of watching something new, I've been watching Cranford. Everytime a commercial comes on advertising all the options on Hulu, I think I should watch some of those other shows. I don't get beyond considering.
Cranford though. I blogged about it back in 2008, back when blogging was youngish and freshish and definitely red hot.
Sigh. I so love Imelda Staunton in that role.
Eventually, my time in 19th century England came to a halt. Sophie wanted to use the Hulu account. Like the good
When we weren't talking football, The Electrician and I discussed the merits of drinking water. Tomorrow begins The Electrician's weaning from the Nectar of the Gods. Hold me.
While I think I'm making headway on convincing him that water isn't poison, I think I've lost the battle to engage him in the glories of Downton Abbey. Tonight the first episode of the final season premieres in the U.S. and I'm more than a little excited about it. I want to share the love of all things Downton.
But it is not to be. Football. Duh.
It's a shame really. I had big plans. A pot of tea with all the trimmings. A gown for me and a tuxedo for him. Alas no. He couldn't even be lured with promise of a smoking jacket and ascot. Pity. He'd rock that look.
Oh well. More teacakes for me.
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