I just finished watching the second season of Downton Abbey. I’m happy–things are mainly going well–and sad–it’s over.
“I’m watching it for the hats,” my mother claims.
I’m watching it because I love plot, I love how much of it derives from Upstairs Downstairs, and I love that it is predictable but not totally. Heiress runs off with chauffeur–perfect Nancy Mitford. Central but not too central character dies in flu epidemic–vintage Upstairs Downstairs. (Which I watched again recently after so many years. A bit more episodic than I remember, but still the UR source of so much Masterpiece Theater).
My mother and I were chatting about life. She said something clever, I remarked “You’ve gotten very smart.”
Then we chorused: “It must be Downton Abbey.”

2 thoughts on “Upstairs/Downtonstairs

  1. I am certainly in a funk now that Downton Abbey is over for this season. I don’t have a butler like Carson to organize my household or a footman or a chauffeur to run away with, alas, but that’s not the issue. I, too, will miss the elegance, the clothing, hats, Cousin Violet’s wit, Matthew’s astounding eyes.
    But I hear grandmama from America is coming — in the guise of Shirley Maclaine (sp?). … so let’s keep a stiff upper lip and carry on until next season … burn victim heir or not? new baby boy heir? Irish war of independence? Meddlesome grannies. Mary and Matthew home from their honeymoon and bored… So much to look forward to.

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