Upstairs/Downstairs

Confession #451:
I haven't watched a single episode of Downton Abbey, Season 4.
(I'm sorry Alice! But you see, the NFL playoff games occur at the same time and I don't have the emotional energy to watch all of it.)

I HAVE been secretly working my way through Downton Abbey's "grandmother" series, Upstairs/Downstairs.  I call it the "grandmother" because Downton Abbey is a descendant of this show. In fact, the first season was astonishingly similar in plots and characters.

I didn't mean to get all involved in the Bellamy affairs!  I was in Bigfork for a week earlier in January, in a weakened state from travel and then a medical procedure, and agreed to try the first couple episodes of Season One.  By the time I left, I was hopelessly hooked.  It doesn't really make sense, either, because it's not a particularly riveting, action-packed show.  The characters are interesting, but not "J.R. Ewing"-interesting, if you know what I mean.  It's just...sort of like cheap chocolates; you can't really figure out why you keep going back to the box, because they aren't fabulous, but you just can't leave them alone!

Upstairs/Downstairs is set in a wealthy household in London at the turn of the century (1900's) and just like Downton, the viewer is seeing the drama of the prosperous family as well as the servants, often intertwined. At first glance, it seems as though all they do is drink tea and/or cocktails, and chat about society. But I'm on Season Three  Five, right now, and just went through a shocking episode that involved a former servant who ended up with a butcher knife and...
Well.
I can't tell you more.

The funny thing about BBC shows is that if you watch one episode, you're fine.
If you watch TWO episodes in a row, you'll answer the phone "Hullo? Oh, not a bit, old chap! I was preparing to have a cup of tea...would you care to join me, say, around 3? Veddy good!"
If you watch THREE episodes in one day...which you can only really do if you're bed bound and out of John Grisham novels...you'll be convinced you need to get a ladies maid (or valet, if you're a gentleman), and that celebrating Armistice Day this year wouldn't be a bad idea.
After tea, of course.