Tag Archives: Downton Abbey

Quiz, happiness and more food

And so they lived happily ever after. With my fondness for happy endings, I was more than satisfied with the – somewhat – cheesy romantic solutions at Downton.

The big question now is, what on earth do we watch in its place?

Between eating too much Christmas dinner and attempting to finish off the food from Christmas Eve for supper, we did some quizzes again. Daughter had bought a new edition of the pub quiz book that saved Christmas a couple of years ago. It can be fun to discover how much you don’t know. Or how silly some of the questions are. (At least I recognise the lyrics to Lola, and House of the Rising Sun, despite never having heard of some of the newer names in the music business.)

This year was an unfortunate time to assert Harper Lee’s one-novel status. But, these things happen. The second quiz book, on trains and stuff, turned out to be mostly a one-horse race.

And I’ve not read a thing.

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Trunks

A Facebook friend mentioned she found it useful to put all her child’s essential items for university in a traditional trunk. Whereas we are all suitcases, rucksacks, cardboard boxes and rubbish sacks chez Bookwitch, reading about this trunk brought back memories.

Not that we have a trunk. But we used to. When I married him, the Resident IT Consultant owned a large silver coloured monstrosity of a trunk. It was vaguely useful as a table. Storage, less so. It began to smell, and when we ran out of somewhere to keep it, we came to the conclusion it would have to go.

We lived in Brighton at the time, so I put it outside the house on collection day, hoping my nice and friendly binmen would take pity on me and just take it. But when I heard them outside, discussing the trunk, and I caught the words ‘old man’, I decided to stick my head out and plead with them.

They wanted to look inside the trunk. Once they were satisfied my ‘old man’ wasn’t in there, dead or otherwise, they took the trunk and chucked it in the van.

I gathered – too late – that Brighton has a reputation for putting deceased husbands in trunks for disposal. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t even have tried.

Anyway, back to the black rubbish sacks of the present. Today it’s Daughter’s turn to flee the nest, as it were, and there is a tremendous number of bits of luggage going with her. The Resident IT Consultant always tries to make out he merely took a change of clothes and a few books on the train to his university, and that was that. Likely story! (Hang on! I just told you about his trunk. He must have taken loads of stuff…)

St Andrews

There are around twenty books of fiction in amongst the teabags and pillowcases and whatnot. Daughter said the other day that she needed to take books by her friends. (That’s you lot.) So we went through my shelves and (cherry) picked some reading for her. She has said she’ll return the books to me. I should think so! Some of them are even signed.

Not that she’ll have time to read. There will be ‘lessons’, and there is always Doctor Who and Downton Abbey. And some important person at the university has sent the students a copy each of Linda Grant’s The Clothes on Their Backs for everyone to read and then meet to discuss. She wasn’t sure about this, until I described Linda as someone who often comments on Facebook. ‘Oh, that Linda Grant!’ I think that means she will give it a go.

Excuse me. I’m off to cry a little.