Anyway, I finished up Downton Abbey, but somewhere in the midst of it, I decided that I would've excelled at being British Aristocracy in the early 20th century. M and I have always joked about being born a part of the wrong generation.
Yesterday, without Downton Abbey to fill my hours, I sat down with the Masterpiece version of Emma. It was quite good, and I love Jonny Lee Miller and Michael Gambon so much that I almost forgot that I love the Gwyneth Paltrow version almost strictly because of Jeremy Northam.
In all this Downton Abbey and Jane Austen hullabaloo, I've just about decided that I need to live on a large estate in the British countryside. I'm sure I can afford it. Right? Jolene? Right??
Until then, I'll happily devour a Jane Austen book this evening while M works late, and I'll dream of a future of verdant hillsides and great houses with old names. I might also have tea. And a biscuit.