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CEO Jack Townsend suspects he’ll regret it, but hires her anyway. He would never date his assistant, and he’s certain his principles can withstand her green eyes and curly, auburn hair.

Undercover reporter Riley Mattson has made it her life’s work to unearth corruption. Acting on a tip from a colleague that there are shady dealings at Jack’s bank, she worms her way into his office and goes after him with the conviction that there is only one way he could have risen to a position of such power.

Within days, she’s doubting that conviction. She’s also realized that his ferocious hatred of deceit is the very thing keeping her from telling him who she really is, why she’s really there, and that she’s really, really in love with him.

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Downton Abbey, Season 4, Episode 7

This episode is so busy, I’m not even going to try and make prose out of it. As the emperor once said, too many notes…

Off to see the piggies again, and Edith’s along for the ride. She’s looking at Mr. Farmer with a mighty obvious gleam in her eye. Is she thinking what I think she’s thinking? I like him. He’s real.

Isobel & Violet discussing American history: “bribery and corruption.” Isobel asks if Violet has ever met Cora’s erstwhile brother. “Once. At the wedding. And once was quite enough,” will likely be the line of the night, purely on the strength of Maggie Smith’s delivery. That woman is an (inter)national treasure.

Back in the bedroom, Anna finally tells Mary that Green is the villain in this piece. Mary’s reaction is exactly what I would have wanted. I love her when she acts human. Good scene for both of them.

Morphing Character Alert: It’s ludicrous that Mr. Bates would tease his wife about Mr. Green when he knows damned good and well he’s the culprit. I don’t care if it’s in service of confirming his suspicions—the real Mr. Bates would never be that cruel.

What is Rose up to? Is she trying to break barriers? Does she actually like Jack? Or is she just craving attention? I don’t know. But I do know it was fun watching Tom look gobsmacked as he spied the two of them in the tea shop.

“Miss Bunting,” eh? That’s a dreadful name. But she’s mighty interested in our Tom, even if he’s under the thrall of the local Milord.

Fashion moment: the clothes are grand in this episode, starting with the magnificent deep blue of Violet’s dress in her opening scene. But Edith’s taupe lace over burnt orange silk is simply divine. Wowza. And another marvy blue in Rose’s dinner dress.

Ah, Lord Gillingham has joined us at table. And is that a tiny bit of claw I see at the edge of his starched white cuff, as he quizzes Mr. Blake on his sudden expertise des cochons?

Mary, having been alerted by Tom, approaches Rose about her dalliance with Jack, and we learn why she’s pursuing him: to stab at Mummy. “I want to see her face crumble when she finds out.” That’s the first real emotion I’ve seen from that girl.

“A desire of suitors.” It’s always nice to see glimpses of humor in the upper class.

After last week’s no-shots episode, it was a relief to see Tom trundling through the fields in his open car, only to come upon an equally-charming and broken-down Miss Bunting. Nostrovya! I swear, one thing you can say for this show: you’re never in doubt about one character’s feelings for another, whether good or ill.

“I don’t believe in types. I believe in people.” And I believe Tom has become my favorite character on the show. He’s a damned fine man.

The Fabulous Blues continue, with Elizabeth McGovern’s eyes, and Edith’s dress for tea at granny’s. Who knew the 20’s could be so lovely?

Oh my. I can’t believe Edith told Violet. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Violet is taking it in stride. She’s always done her own thing, after all. I’m puzzled as to why first Rosamund and then Violet offer to pay for Edith’s French-improving Swiss jaunt. Is Mr. Blake right and the family is circling the financial drain?

I appreciated Mary’s scene with Jack. She seemed genuine when she told him she believed in him more than she believed in Rose, and he was downright heroic when he said he was removing himself from the picture. I’m not too sure that he won her over with his continuous comparisons between her and his mother, but maybe she was relieved to finally have a conversation with a man who wasn’t trying to work a wedding ring onto her finger.

The fashion hits keep on coming: that gray & white-with-black-stripe ensemble that Mary wore for her luncheon with Tony: mmmmmmmmm. As delicious as a sherbet on a summer day.

Lord G to Bates, whilst giving Thomas the stink-eye: “Did you miss me? Because I’ve certainly missed you.”

Well, Alfred & Daisy may have been silly little gits through most of the turmoil, but they ended it like grown-ups. Nicely done.

And all those pastel linens on the lawn during the bazaar…wow. They look like a dishful of butter mints.

Favorite moment: Violet staring open-mouthed at Lord Whomever offering to take Isobel home.

Downton Abbey, Season 4, Episode 6

Mary is mighty lordly (ladyly?) in her bed, worming the truth about what happened to Anna out of Mrs. Hughes. Cut to her asking Lord G to take Thomas with him to America, so Mr. Bates can remain behind and care for his wife. Mary says Thomas will enjoy it; he can admire the handsome stewards on the ship. Daddy asks her how she knows about such things. “I’ve been married. I know everything.” Glimpses of her sense of humor are rare, so I always enjoy them. I also enjoyed her stab at Mr. Blake when Cora says only the three of them will dine together. She gives good sarcasm.

After dinner, the fun begins. Mary learns how to carry a bucket. She looks kinda cute with her hair all bedraggled. However, I do not want to think about what might be mixed in with the mud he just slung across her mouth. Early morning claret and scrambled eggs (where, exactly did she learn how to do that?). Sounds delish. And a moment of realness shattered when Servant Ivy comes in and Mary reverts to Ladyship status. But maybe Mr. Blake isn’t so bad. We’ll see. I’m still Team Tony.

Speak of the devil. And still besotted. After his conversation with old war buddy Blake, it sounds as if Ms. M has not one, not two, but three possible suitors. What’s her secret? Don’t say “Shalimar.”

So, Edith plans to get an abortion and then if Michael comes back and still wants her, she will marry him. Aunt Rosamund says her entire life will be built upon a lie. What lie? That she won’t tell him about the baby? Granted, that’s a big deal, but how is it her “entire life”? But now it doesn’t matter, because she can’t go through with it. She’s going to have the baby and take her chances. I predict that Cora, being a Yank and therefore half barbarian, will take it in stride, but Lord G and Lady Mary will be apoplectic.

Meanwhile, silliness reigns downstairs, and Carson gets pulled into the middle of it. We are only saved from the entire evening being wasted by the arrival of the odious Mr. Green. Mrs. Hughes has a fine moment alone with him and his master’s boots, then…finally…Mr. Bates puts two and two together. Goody goody.

Some observations:

• Thomas acts nearly human in his conversation with Jimmy, saying he wants to find him courting a girl from the village on his return. Then he ruins it all by going back into Snidely Whiplash mode with his last words to Baxter that are overheard by Moseley. Shut up, Thomas. You sound ridiculous. But Moseley loudly asking at table what he meant by “a full report” was worth the moustache-twirling.

• Violet looks very fetching in her grey suit and hat, though it emphasizes the sacklike crap the rest of the ladies are wearing. Edith must be so grateful.

• As Robert drives away, I can’t help noticing how perfectly-spaced everyone is on the gravel. Like birds on a wire.

• Poor Mary. She can’t go for a simple walk with any man, without him throwing himself at her feet. Except Mr. Blake, of course. He thinks she’s aloof. Anna agrees.

• Hooray! The Violet & Isobel Show begins! This will be fun, although I would like to know how they got Maggie Smith to sound so genuinely wheezy. They do that with sound effects, right? And if there was ever any doubt, we have now established completely that Isobel can only be happy when she is being useful.

• Uh-oh. Jack & Rose in a boat. We know how that ended last time. I wonder if she’s planning to ask him as her date to her coming-out party?

• Well, well, well. Tom’s met a girl. He isn’t about to tell her his life story, but I get the feeling she’d like to hear it. She looks like a reporter.

Downton Abbey, Season 4, Episode 5

Poor Edith. Poor, poor Edith. To start with, she got the British nose. Then, she just had disaster after disaster in the romance department. Is it because she keeps picking older men? Does she have daddy issues? Or does she need daddy issues? Anyway, she finally settles on Michael, who seems awfully nice and acts like he likes her a lot ANDNEVERMINDHE’SMARRIED, and things seem to be looking up. Or, in Edith’s case, at least to eye level. And then….poof. He’s gone, like that Canadian cousin back in Season 2 was it?

But he’s apparently left her a little something to remember him by. How long can she possibly keep that a secret in this bustling house? Thomas will wet himself when he finds out. I hope Baxter keeps it from him on purpose, just to twist his knickers. He makes me tired.

Speaking of Baxter…I hope they don’t string out this “I got you the job now you’d better give me what I want or I’ll have you fired” crap because it’s obvious she has merits of her own and is doing swimmingly for Cora. She should tell him to leave her the hell alone or she’ll go to Cora first and tell her what an ass he’s being. Then we won’t have to listen to these stupid tête-à-têtes and Thomas can go find something semi-interesting to do. He can, can’t he? Or maybe just GO.

I sense a friendship in the offing between Violet & Isobel. That would be riotous. Dr. C can make a third at bridge. Oh dear, that won’t work, will it? Perhaps Sprat (what a dreadful name) could make a fourth. No, I don’t suppose the times have changed quite that much, regardless of whether or not Cousin Rose is kissing *ahem* foreigners in the scullery.

There is one curious item to consider: if Michael never resurfaces, just how much power did he leave to Edith in that document she so blithely signed? Enough for her to take over his magazine?

Some observations:

Piggies! They’re getting piggies! That will be fun.
Rose has decided to bring her musical friend to the house as a surprise for Lord G’s birthday. Won’t they make a fine pair: working man Jack and aristocratic lady Rose. Huh. Where have I heard that one before…?
Isobel has been reading Nancy Drew. Next, we’ll have her deciphering codes in the rhythm of kitchen knives chopping sausage.
I suspect that the Dowager Countess’ man Sprat may be cousin to one Peter Pettigrew. Watch the two of them discussing the missing netsuke. I swear his nose is twitching.
Anna & Mr. Bates have gone to dinner at the very same “frightful hotel” where Lady G and her committee are dining. How conveeeenient. And…..bottoms up!
Favorite scene: Isobel, Mary & Tom in the nursery, remembering their lost loves. Such sweetness.
It was a good night for the writers:
Isobel: “I’m not your ladysh—never mind.”
Violet: “Let him remove his boots if it will soothe your nerves.”
Carson’s on fire:

Jimmy: “What’s he got to be nervous about?”

Carson: “You’re nervous because you’re intelligent, Alfred. Only stupid people are foolhardy.”

Mrs. Patmore: “I like that Rudolph Valentino. Ooh, he makes me shiver all over.”

Carson: “What a very disturbing thought.”

Blake: “Then you’re a sentimentalist who cannot face the truth.”

Mary: “I’m not often called sentimental.”

Bugs Bunny: “Truah woids was nevah spoken.”
Lady Violet (about Isobel): “Some people run on greed, lust, even love. She runs on indignation.”

Downton Abbey, Season 4, Episode 4

A tenant’s funeral is imminent, and Tom & Mary are both quite prepared to take on the deceased’s farm as soon as he’s in the ground. Lord Grantham, OTOH, hedges. He thinks their plans are cold, and he’s right, but Mary is also right: they’re losing money they can’t afford to lose. But lest we think too harshly of her, she is immediately driven to near-tears by her father’s passing along the notice of Tony’s engagement. Poor kid, but she has snoozed and lost and must now deal with it.

Lord G is such a soft touch. He offers to lend the amount needed to bring their tenant Mr. Drewe’s debts into order. We then cut to a luncheon table with some truly fabulous color around the snow-white cloth, as Tom admits he’s on the tenant’s side, and Lord G informs Mary that she will be the one to bring Mr. Drewe the good news.

Mr. Napier, a former suitor of Mary’s reappears, this time on behalf of the government, which wants to know how the great houses are weathering the post-war years. And he seems to want to know how she’s weathering widowhood. Poor Mary. Being rich and beautiful certainly makes it difficult to have a few moments to oneself, doesn’t it?

Mary seems quite bereft at the prospect of losing Tom, and I agree with her. It would be a shame to lose him. America doesn’t need another Irishman nearly as much as the Abbey needs a manager with some common sense.

Dr. Clarkson talks Isobel into finding a place for a young man. She goes to Violet to ask if she’ll hire him on as a garden boy. Violet muses, “I wonder your halo doesn’t grow heavy. It must be like wearing a tiara ‘round the clock.” And Isobel simply pursues her original question. This is one of my favorite running bits in the show.

But of course Lady V’s condescension brings problems. A precious paper knife is missing, and now the plot doth thicken. Where does Dr. Clarkson find the time to tend his patients, I wonder?

Edith is getting worried about Michael vanishing in Germany, and the question can’t help coming: is he missing by his own choice, or circumstances beyond it? Remember, we’re talking about Edith here. She tends to lose men faster than Barrow loses interest. But she’s going to London and Alfred shall hitch a ride with her. While he’s at the Ritz being tested, she’s going to Michael’s office—perhaps, I suppose, to do some of the tasks he entrusted her with in the document she signed so blithely in the last episode.

But no. She walks up the steps to a doctor’s office. Could it be? Of course it could. We’re talking about Edith here.

Mr. Bates takes his lonely walk from the cottage, more or less using his cane, and is waiting for Anna at the base of the stairs. Again he asks her what is wrong, and again she dodges, but he’s getting testy. I can hear it in his voice. He won’t stand for this much longer.

Anna and Mrs. Hughes have a short talk in a long hallway, which Mr. B overhears. Hallelujah! And skoal!

While Anna is in Ripon, her husband finally makes his move. He lowers an ultimatum upon Mrs. Hughes, and of course Mrs. Hughes folds like Monday’s laundry. And we get to see some nicely controlled rage, as well as a breakdown, from Brendan Coyle.

He finds Anna polishing shoes at midnight and tells her that he knows. When she finally confesses that she feels unworthy of him, he responds exactly as he ought: “You’ve been made higher to me, and holier, because of the suffering you’ve been through.” He’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be, but he’s also quiet. And you know what they say about the quiet ones….

They seem to be back on track, though, as they pass each other in the hallway and turn to smile. Ahh, this is more like it. Now perhaps Anna can begin to heal, with her husband at her side. Mrs. Hughes is pleased also, and tells Mr. Bates how glad she is that they’re moving on. But his reply leaves little doubt that Anna guessed right all along, and was therefore right in her adamant determination not to tell him who the culprit is.

Mr. Green, you are indeed a dead man.

Some thoughts…

Isobel: “I’m not a ladyship. Just Mrs. Crawley.” And the doctor’s eye roll was priceless.


I’m trying to figure out why Thomas is being so transparent in his desire to have Baxter spy for him. And to what end. He’s been many things in the course of the show: annoying, sneaky, cowardly, even—for one brief moment—heroic, but now he’s just being silly. Time to graduate from junior high, old bean.


The Best of Lady Violet: “The only poet peer I am familiar with, is Lord Byron. And I presume we all know how that ended.”


Fashion moment: Edith’s outfit when she goes to see the doctor in London: the gold-trimmed navy coat & coral dress. Mmmm-rowr. And the hat suits her beautifully.


I don’t know why they couldn’t have had someone in the costume shop tutor Baxter in the use of a sewing machine. Why remove the thread to put it away? You’ll just have to re-thread it when you need it next time, which is very time-consuming. Leave the damned thing on there. Once she removes it, what the heck is she snipping at with her scissors? There’s nothing there to snip. And don’t tell me she could fix the tear in Mrs. Patmore’s apron with that thing and have it not show. Ha!


Does little Sybbie look like a poster child for Irish tourism, or what? Those cheeks! That curly hair! I have a sudden urge for a Jameson.


Alfred is puzzlingly silent in the impromptu kitchen quiz portion of the Ritz test, seeing as how the recipe for the dish in question is written on the chalkboard at the front of the room.


I’m surprised Edith seems pleased to hear Mr. Napier is back on the scene, since he was the one who ratted her out to Mary when she ratted Mary out about the dead Turk, and Mary then spoiled her marriage to Sir Anthony in revenge. Perhaps she’s forgotten. It was such a terribly long time ago, regardless of how little they’ve all aged. Ahem.

Downton Abbey, Season 4, Episode 3

Aww, Lord G truly is a sweetheart. I’m going to start calling him Tony, because he deserves it. He even told Lady Mary, sotto voce, that he doesn’t much care for his valet. For an aristocrat on this particular show, that is some damned fine perspicacity. He’s just a good man, and quite besotted by Our Mary. We are enchanted.

In London, he throws himself at her feet again, but she pushes him away. I don’t understand why—what’s not to love? Is she just rebelling against Mama & Aunt Rosamund? That would be too sad and silly for words.

Tony: Will you marry me?

Mary: Tony, you don’t know me.

Tony: How can you say that? We’ve known each other since we were children.

Mary: Yes, but with a very long gap in the middle. We only met properly a few days ago, and now you want to spend the rest of your life with me.

Tony: Yes. That’s exactly what I want.

That’s some pretty dreamy stuff there. Nicely done.

And we finally learn the whole story. Mary is still in love with her dead husband, and too decent a person to string along another decent person even if she’s pretty sure she could come to love him in time, because she can’t love him now. So she must let him go to Mabel. Nuts. I’m sad.

I remember when Tom first showed up at the abbey. Despite the fact we share a surname, I found him tiresome. Now, he’s one of my favorites. I just want to enfold him in a mom hug, and I’m thrilled his surrogate mother, Mrs. Hughes, was able to step in for me and send that harpy packing. (Did you remember to take a shot when she found Braithwaite’s book on avoiding pregnancy? Delicious.) I also enjoy watching Mary and Tom together. There’s a great mutual respect there, decent brainpower, and genuine affection. It’s so refreshing to see a man and woman in a real friendship with no subtext or innuendo.

Meanwhile, back in the servants’ quarters… as I started to write, I realized I have no idea what Mr. Bates’s Christian name is. Not that it matters, as even his wife is holding him at arm’s length right now. These two are one of DA’s great love stories, and here she is flinching when he touches her. It’s nearly as painful to watch as the rape.

I suppose I should have expected Anna to feel unworthy of her husband now. Too many societies, ours included, make it out that a rape is the victim’s fault, so why would we be surprised if the victim often feels that way as well? Yet another reason why it’s one of the most monstrous crimes on the calendar. When Anna told Mrs. Hughes she’d kill herself if she came up pregnant, I had no problem believing her. I hate that she won’t tell her husband what happened, so I take what comfort I can from the show giving her a viable reason for doing so, instead of a wussy one. I only hope things between them are resolved before he begins to think she has regrets for marrying an older man.

Daisy and Ivy and Jimmy and Alf. I’m trying to keep these four straight. Daisy’s in love with Alf, Alf is in love with Ivy, and Ivy’s in love with Jimmy. Jimmy’s in love with himself but perfectly willing to dally with Ivy. Have I got that right? I also need to figure out why I should care about a bunch of 17-year-olds, when such weighty other matters are bearing down upon my eyes, but never mind. Ivy’s about to be kissed behind a door! Heavens! She’d best be careful, or Daisy’s going to be slipping some slivered glass into those amuse-bouches.

Some observations:

Why is Mrs. Hughes shooting Gillingham’s valet the evil eye? Of course he deserves it, but how does she know it was him? Did Anna tell her when we weren’t listening, or did she put two and two together?


Fashion moment: Mary’s purple velvet is delicious, but is it proper for morning? I’ll have to look that up.


“Don’t be transparent, Mama. It doesn’t suit you.” –Lady Mary


In a grand case of counting one’s chickens, Edna barrels right in after her night with Tom. She must be very young, and not have a clue about the ways of the world, if she thinks demanding his hand in marriage is going to work. They have laundries for girls like you, chickie, and don’t you go thinking that “washing things clean” is merely a metaphor.


“I am already full of regrets. There is nothing but regret in me.” –Tom


Jimmy says he wants to spend his life having fun, dancing with beautiful women, and drinking champagne. I wonder if they’re leading him in the obvious direction: Hollywood.  He’s got the looks for it. And the attitude.


And…another female servant stalks away in the dark.


A question: you’re a maid to a titled woman in 1920’s London. How, exactly, do you tell your employer that her niece returned at 6am from an assignation with a MARRIED MAN*? Just curious.


One of the things I love about Boardwalk Empire is the authentic sound their singers produce. Would that I could say the same for Downton Abbey. I’m all for tossing Jack Ross into the mix—he has a great smile and hey! He’s a Yankee! Let’s hear it for the home team! But does he sound like he just stepped out of the same studio as Al Jolson? No, he does not. And their choice of material for him…ouch.


Does a “black bandleader” rank above or below “an Australian singer” on the Carson Snob Scale?


Fashion moment: Edith’s wearing her All Hallows’ toga again. But Mary’s also in her plum hat. Ye gods, why must they torment me so?


Violet & Isobel seem to be working their way into a genuine friendship. Proof that perhaps old dogs—never mind.

* I continue to be, apparently, the only one concerned about this fact. Lord Grantham is perfectly happy with him.

Review: Downton Abbey, Season 4, Episode 2*

*Technically, it’s Episode 3, as One & Two were shown back-to-back last week, but everyone in the blogosphere appears to be calling this Episode 2, so I will as well.

A house party. Who doesn’t love a house party? Mrs. Patmore, I’m guessing. And it’s a very busy house party at that, but not so busy that I don’t find myself asking one big question: it’s perfectly fine for Edith’s MARRIED BOYFRIEND to present himself at the abbey for the week-end, but both Lord G and Carson can get their knickers all twisty over the presence of a world-famous opera singer????? Not for the first time do I find myself thinking these aristocrats have some mighty interesting notions about the world. And on this, Lady Violet apparently agrees with me.

We gather for tea and exposition. Among the new faces are apparently one Mr. Sampson, who Lord G knows from his club and sounds as if he’s invited himself; young Lord Gillingham, whose father has recently died; an elderly lady who gets off winningly with Tom by informing him how he must miss his late wife; and Carson noting that things were different before the war (just in case we’ve forgotten). Edna gets lippy with Mrs. Hughes and I’m thinking I’d like to see her pert little face covered with a cream pie right about now.

Hmm. Mary’s going up the stairs with Young Lord Gillingham. She’s barely into mauve, and we’re already moving in a new suitor? At least he seems like a very nice fellow. Not so sure about his valet, though. He’s being too fresh with Anna. Watch it, buddy. Her husband looks like a mild-mannered chap with twinkly eyes and a lovely smile, but he’s got a bit of past, he has.

Sounds like Lord & Lady G are hedging their bets where Mary is concerned. Not only Lord Gillingham, but Sir John Somethingorother AND Mr. Sampson, have all been brought ‘round to get an eyeful of lovely Lady M. It becomes clear pretty quickly, however, that only Gillingham will remain in the running: John can’t pry his eyes off Cousin Rose, and Sampson, well, Sampson appears to have something other than women on his mind.

Don’t Lady Mary & Lord Gillingham look charming on their horses. And having such straightforward conversation, complete with advice on handling the estate. She’d better grab him, before Lord G uses his astute business skills to arrange them all into homelessness.

And Lord G’s business skills appear to be second only to his poker skills. He seems to be good at lying to his wife, though, only squirming a little when she pronounces losing one’s fortune at cards to be “stupid.” Indeed.

The cards are also flying thick and fast in the servants’ dining hall, where they have enough to time to kick and squeal and throw them around whilst Gillingham’s man persists in being too chummy with Mrs. Bates.

Mrs. Patmore takes ill and Alfred steps in to make the sauce. I’d forgotten that Alfred had a secret yen to escape the hot, screaming kitchen of Downton for the hot, screaming kitchen of a major hotel or restaurant. Meanwhile, I suspect Mr. Gregson is up to something with the winning Mr. Sampson. Whatever could it be? Maybe while he’s wheeling and dealing, Edith will get to talk to someone else for a change. You would think the two of them were trapped underneath the Cone of Silence.

Lord Grantham sneaks off for a nip before the concert, and comes as close to a father-son chat with Tom as I can ever remember the two of them having. Of course, being Lord G, he would need for Tom to have a sign around his neck saying, “HELP ME I’M DROWNING” before he would realize the poor man is suffering. And we would all need a dozen less storylines and 40 fewer people to be able to pay any sort of attention to what he’s going through. All we need to know is that he’s feeling low, a fact that will undoubtedly be preyed upon before too long, most likely by a pert, red-headed maid who fancies herself too grand to remain among the servants.

Speaking of prey, oh my, Anna, grab something! A spoon, an iron. Anything! Her screams are drowned out by the powerful soprano upstairs, singing about a girl who wants to kill herself if she cannot be with the man she loves. I hope that isn’t a sign of things to come.

Upstairs, downstairs. As Anna has her quietly happy life ripped apart by a ranting bastard, Mr. Gregson suddenly shows himself to be not only an adept card player, but something of a gentleman as well, earning his (presumably) future father-in-law’s eternal gratitude by cleaning out Mr. Sampson. Good. Sampson has weaselly eyes. We’ll ignore the fact that Gregson may have a more checkered past than we’ve been led to believe (still-living wives remaining aside for the moment). I’ve got a new DA drinking game: every time a handy coincidence saves one or more members of the family from ruin of one sort or another, you take a shot.

Blast it. There’s no time for Mrs. Hughes to argue with Anna, to give her a hug, to ask her whodunnit. She can only scurry off in search of a comb, as Anna huddles in the corner and braces herself to lie to the man she loves because of course if a crime is going to occur, one Bates or another will be in the middle of it. Excellent work by Joanne Froggatt, however.

I wish I could say the same for the writers, who are allowing Bates to exhibit exactly 1/1000th of the awareness he would and should have of just how upset his wife is. I hate it when character gets sacrificed to plot contrivance and convenience. Or how Anna says he’s a convicted felon. Is he? I thought he was found innocent when a witness came forward. It would be a small matter to have her say, “He’s already been accused of murder once. Do you think they’ll let him walk away from the same charge again?” Keep your notes straight, folks.

Well, this must be the major event that had the Motherland all in a tizzy when the season first ran over there. I wonder how the states will feel about it? (According to the Twitter at 9:04 CST, not happy.)

They have a Gutenberg Bible? And selling it wouldn’t solve all their tax problems?


“If I were to search for logic, I should not look for it among the English upper class.” –Lady Violet


Oh, excuse me. Dame Nellie Melba isn’t a world-famous opera singer. She’s an Australian singer. Which is obviously far worse, if your name is Carson. My good man, you are such a snob.


Tom looks constipated.


Why is Jimmy here? What are his redeeming qualities? What sort of nincompoop tosses a full jam jar in the air after barely putting the lid back on?


Ah, Molesley. How are the mighty fallen, eh? I guess Carson isn’t the only snob at Downton. And I now know that wearing gloves while playing footman is on par with being an Australian singer.


Cora to Lord G: “You will have her next to you at dinner, AND YOU WILL LIKE IT.” Lord G to Carson: “I blame you.”


Fashion moment: Edith’s crescent moon barrette makes up for another droopy halter neckline.


Poor Dame Nellie. No one wants to listen to her sing. It looks as if Mary knows what that last song is about, however.


Isobel prefers Bartok? How subversive.

Review: Downton Abbey, Season 4, Episodes 1&2

Downton Abbey has always been a glorious, soapy mess, and this season looks to be no different. O’Brien’s escaped! Isobel takes in a stray! Edna’s coming back! New nanny! No new nanny! All of this in a mere 69 minutes.

We begin with Lady Mary acting out of character. She was never a starry-eyed romantic, even whilst dancing in the snow with her new love, so I have a hard time buying her still being in a funk after six months of widowhood. I mean, this is the girl who rooked her mother into helping her  sneak a corpse out of her bed in the middle of the night. I can, however, totally get into her Mrs. Danvers impression on the stairs with Edith. More snark, less sobbing, if you don’t mind, Lady M.

Speaking of snark, Mr. Bates gets off the episode’s best dig, jabbing at Thomas’ supposed “shock” upon learning he’s only a servant. But Bates quickly makes up for this moment of real-life manhood by reverting to form on Valentine’s Day and sneaking a kiss with his wife while on duty. Ahh, semi-young love.

I think I know why Mrs. Hughes forgot it was Valentine’s Day. She’s too busy sticking her nose in other people’s business, that’s why. Going into the workhouse, where you can practically see the tubercular bacilli crawling on the benches, just so she can drag Mr. Carson’s partner back into Mr.  Carson’s life, whether Mr. Carson wants him there or not. Or maybe it’s so Isobel will have something to do? I’m not sure, except to say I’m confident it’ll turn into a rat’s nest before all is said & done.

Oh for God’s sake, Mary, cheer up! And Lord G is no help. Dude, she’s a widow, not a stroke victim. How much “rest” does a healthy twentysomething need? Carson gives it a go: “You’re letting yourself be defeated, milady.” Carson 1, Pouty Mary 0

Meanwhile, back in the scullery, Daisy is all over the new mixer. I don’t blame her. Considering the elbow grease that goes into whipping egg whites until they form stiff peaks night after bloody night, so the upper classes can toss off a murmur about “delicious mousse,” I’m surprised she wasn’t dancing a jig when that contraption showed up in the kitchen. Brace yourself, Mrs. Patmore. Lady Violet herself has admitted that times are changing.

And apparently the sands of time have tossed another bit of flotsam on Downton’s doorstep, and it’s bound to end badly. Heh heh. Edna will be returning in triumph, and I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that she will rapidly become Thomas’s new partner in crime. And O’Brien barely off the shores o’ the motherland…

Mary shows a spark when talking to her father, maybe the ice is breaking up! Ah, she’s going to see Carson! Ah, she’s sobbing in his arms! Excellent. Yes yes yes. The old steel spine is showing as she seats herself at the tenants’ luncheon table and it’s a good thing, because apparently she will be served nothing to eat.

Episode 2

A box is delivered from Matthew’s office, addressed to Mary. Lord G opens it in case there’s something inside to upset her, and a letter drops out. Kind of like a god dropping from the sky…

Excellent. Mary is to be Matthew’s sole heir. To heck with the kid. Lord G splutters, but his mother sees through both it and him. And it would seem that Carson’s past with Grieg may not have been all beer, skittles and bowing to cheers in the limelight…

Lord G needs to get the stick out of his arse. He knows his daughter is more than capable of assisting with the estate, and his blustering objections are ludicrous. Either he truly is the medieval chauvinist his wife accuses him of being, or he’s afraid that Mary is smarter than he is, and will run him off. If that is the case, he has reason to be nervous, because I’m pretty sure she is. It’s obvious that Branson agrees with me.

And it looks as if Isobel is regaining her footing as well, she’s back to meddling in others’ lives, and pissing off Carson at the same time. Bravo!

Off we go to lovely York. I can’t believe Anna has agreed to help Cousin Flippertigib—I mean, Rose, in her attempt to cause Lord G’s next apoplectic fit. And while his wife is off dancing with Jimmy, Bates adds another crime to his resume: forger. But it’s for a good cause, albeit a convoluted one. But then, this is Downton Abbey. And since this is Downton Abbey, the dance ends in a brawl with Cousin Flippert—I mean, Rose, at the center. Half the fun of watching this show is guessing which plot points will end in delicious disaster, and which ones will be dropped and never heard from again.

Did Tom just call Lady Mary a horse?

It threw me for a second when the servant asked Edith’s fancyman if there was any more gin, then I remembered the Brits weren’t indulging in that bit of silliness. Just us.


The best of Lady V: “Just because you’re an ‘old widow,’ I see no necessity to eat off a tray.”


Why Jimmy, are you implying what I think you’re implying about yourself and Lady Anstruth?


Mrs. Shackleton! You will always be Fanny Dashwood to me, and I’m thrilled your clipped delivery is still intact.


How kind of Professor McGonagall to stop by and give Mary a pep talk. It appears to have finally done the trick.


Fashion moment: Nice slit in that green dress, Edith. I suppose kissing in public couldn’t have been far behind.


How does Mrs. Hughes have time to ferry ex-vaudevillians about? Doesn’t she have a house to run?


As Cora & Thomas walked off celebrating his prescience regarding nasty Nanny West, I thought Bates was going to give us a repeat view of a vomiting servant.


I suspect Mrs. Patmore often feels as if her first job is to herd cats.


Lady Mary: “Now it’s going to smell like a tart’s boudoir in here.”


Fashion moment 2: Lady Mary’s plum hat. Not a fan of ‘20s fashion, but that hat is marvy.


Fashion moment 3: I take it all back. What in god’s name is that Halloween monstrosity Edith has double-draped across her torso for her tête-à- tête with Herr Gregson?


“Nothing’s as changeable as a young man’s heart. Take hope—and warning—from that.” –Mrs. Patmore

Christmas gifts for booklovers

I split my time pretty equally between wanting to kiss my computer, and wanting to pitch it into the nearest landfill–if such a thing were still legal, of course. This definitely falls into the “kissing” category:

http://www.litographs.com

Those little boxes full of transistors & capacitors & whatever, are pretty clever when they want to be.

“Impossible Dream” now available

She had The Sight, but she never saw him coming…

Detective Alex Quintana has a plan: promotion to lieutenant before he turns 30, captain by 35. But first he has to make sergeant, and there’s no way he can do that with his life being invaded by a Cajun gypsy who thinks she’s psychic.

Dulcie Beaujolais may make her living as a fortune-teller, but she doesn’t think she’s psychic. She doesn’t want to be psychic either. She just knows she is.

And she knows things about Detective Quintana that are going to turn his carefully-calculated life into a mess only magic can mend.

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