So after barely watching YouTube after my six-month sojourn sleeping on the floor in Cambridge last year when I did nothing but watch films noirs night after night, suddenly I discover The Barchester Chronicles and lose myself in period drama *of the highest order* - Donald Pleasence, Alan Rickman, Nigel Hawthorne as I've never seen him, Susan Hampshire and the one and only Geraldine McEwan as the first wife of Hyacinth Bucket's Richard of Keeping Up Appearances (look them up yourself) - all comporting themselves in exquisite costumes in a green and pleasant England where the sun always shines and the lower classes know their place down to the last correct missing haitch - who could ask for anything more?
Not me, now that I'm done with Barchester and working my way through He Knew He Was Right, not quite as compelling but compelling enough to keep me in bed all day yesterday watching it while Neptune cooperated fully and kept a soft and gentle rain falling, slowly turning the parched and barren land a spring-like green and - blimey, it's a very good thing Saturn's about to enter the picture and git me off to git my railings cleaned. More soon.
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