A week early.

I was intent on making a proper English tea for the finale of Downton Abbey; scones, just like the ones that Mrs Patmore served His Lordship and the Countess Cora in episode eight, lemon curd, raspberry jam, clotted cream and a decent pot of tea, not my usual tea bag in a cup.

It’s the day of, and with just about everything ready including the homemade vanilla bean scones, still sinfully warm from the oven, I find out that the final episode of my all time favorite TV show has been thrown over for the narcissistic, classless, gigantic group hug that is the Oscars. What? Do the people at PBS think that the faithful viewers of DA would prefer to watch the Oscars and all of its post modern childish irony?  How ridiculous, but what could I do when we are at the whims of the broadcast corporations?

The scones are in the freezer, I’ve eaten most of the lemon curd and the cream will keep. And the count down is on (again.) I’m sad to think that this time next week I won’t have “the Family,” as Mr. Carson would say,  to keep me company. I’ll be forced to somehow navigate a world where mediocrity reigns and people are paid well for it. At least I can bake a batch of scones and make a decent cup of tea, someone has to maintain the standards.



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