Morning at Everett's

Since Tuesdays are a long day at the office, when we are often there till 7 o'clock (when the digital files get sent to the press; the paper comes out today), I have been coming over to Everett's to spend the night. He made cheese tortilla wraps for supper last night and had bought Dad's goodie rings to nibble on while watching Doctor Who. We generally take in two episodes; I have an entire season, or more, to catch up on.

Everett gets exasperated with me. I don't like the cybermen, the daleks, or any threatening space creature. I prefer, he says, shows with no conflict. I should watch Teletubbies, he says, rolling his eyes.

Kid's got me pegged.

I was enjoying the Downton Abbey period drama series until they introduced violence and rape to the storyline. It turned my stomach. I don't watch TV to have my stomach turned. I  watch it for entertainment, relaxation. I don't want to get my adrenalin pumping, thanks very much. It's fine in its everyday state, there when it's needed, not artificially stimulated by a little square box in my living room.

That said, I love it when the evildoers get what's coming to them. And that only happens on TV.

Evening at Home ~ north of driveway ~ looking south ~