Alert: this post contains a Downton Abbey Spoiler.
Season three of Downton Abbey has ended for our clan, a few days later than for most others. We have been recording it and watching it on Wednesday evenings with Shauna. Mostly, she has come to the old folks' place, and so it was tonight.
The program was proceeding at a slower pace than usual, but, although I had tried to avert my eyes, it's difficult to avoid coming across some Spoilers in the social media. Therefore, I knew that something major was impending. Ever since Sunday, as soon as I saw that a Facebook post, for example, had something to do with the program, I desperately tried to move on without reading, but I glimpsed something about Matthew one time and something about a death at another time, and ... well ... I'm not as stupid as I look. ;)
I did manage to keep my guess a secret, so, although the ending didn't shock me, it certainly shocked and disappointed both Sue and Shauna.
What I really wanted to share with you, however, is how funny the three of us are after any given episode. As we collectively rise, particularly from the two hour episodes, we sigh, groan and grumble, greatly resembling a trio of Bates (the somewhat crippled servant for the non Downton crowd). You see, all three of us tend to hobble about. As seniors, Sue and I have every right to limp and gimp after a long sit, but poor Sha also totters on bad feet.
You see, around the time of her fortieth birthday a few months past, the girl developed a major case of plantar fasciitis. Oddly enough, that is exactly what happened to me around the same time of life. I am happy to say that after twenty-five years of wearing orthotics, my heel spurs are no worse now than they were then and probably somewhat better. But Shauna seems to have at least as bad a case if not worse. Yes: worse, I think.
Perhaps we three should invest in Bates-like canes.
PS: If you haven't watched Downton Abbey, just what have you been doing with your life?