Monday, March 13, 2006

Midsomer madness

There was only one murder in Midsomer last night. Or so I'm told; I fell asleep. For me, it passed its credibility level. I can believe that, on a regular basis, six people can be killed in two days in a small village in middle England; I can accept that if Inspector Barnaby's wife or daughter are involved in any sort of group activity, there will be one or two murders (I'm surprised he hasn't made the connection yet instead of arresting all the wrong people); but last night's episode took me one step in gullibility too far.

Sergeant Jones was sitting waiting in a car parked at the roadside. Barnaby came out of an office and ran - yes, ran - waving papers at him. Were these papers going to be significant? Was Barnaby excited? Oh, purlease. Can you imagine Morse waving papers? Running excitedly? In fact, Morse would have sat in the car, listening to loud opera, waiting impatiently for Lewis to come out of the office, and when he had, he'd have snarled and asked what took him so long. Morse was a proper detective.

So I fell asleep but not before being able to spot the baddie at fifty paces.

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Another bad weekend for Welsh and English rugby fans (Wales 18 Italy 18, France 31 England 6). We are not counting this year. This has been a mere blip on the pathway to next year's world cup. We will not be downhearted. Salty tears do nothing for keyboards.

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You might have noticed - with relief some may say - that my blog has been quiet: I've been away. Only for the weekend. We went to Derby for a wedding. It was in a hotel. The registrar was very nice but it was all over in the scratch of an ear.

Highlights: the groom's mother wore Dolce & Gabbana and Jimmy Choo's; actually can't think of any other highlights. Except maybe chocolate hearts on the table (it was a wedding and I didn't eat my pudding and, yes, I will regret it when I go for weighing tonight).

However I was paid my third compliment in as many days. A drunken 30-year-old complimented me on my 'crackers'. And not a wonderbra in sight. (At my age you take compliments wherever you can get them.)


Anna said...

You didn't eat your pudding??!

Since when are we putting apostrophes in plural words?

Jimmy Choos, missy.

Liz said...

I thought they were the shoes of Jimmy Choo?

There was a terrible new police drama on last night; the only good thing was that the main character was a grammar fanatic.

Anna said...

No, they're not Jimmy's shoes! They're Angie's! Silly.

Ach, why do they distort the letters like that? They make it difficult on purpose, I'm sure.

Tim Oakes said...

I can't believe you've done it again Liz - crackers?!

Liz said...

I hope it's my state of mind you're commenting on, Tim!

MaryB said...

Well, now you've ruined it for me, Liz. Do you mean to tell me that 4-5 murders in a bucolic English village in the space of, say, 2 hours or 250 pages is not realistic? Hmmph. There goes the plot of 99% of the stuff we see/read about England. How can a gullible American trust your mystery writers ever again?


Liz said...

Maryb, he actually said, 'yours are crackers!'

Sorry to disillusion you but our policemen don't ride around on bicycles two by two either. But they did not so long ago so keep on believing.

MaryB said...

Westminster Abbey? The Tower of Big Ben? The rosy-red cheeks of the little children?

Disappointing, because we, on the other hand, do ride horses and shoot people all the time.

Crazy-crackers? Shaped like crackers?

Chris said...

Welcome back, Liz.

I also thought that 'Mayo' was awful, like the name suggests - something oily whipped up in a couple of minutes. Afraid I turned it off after 15 minutes.

Sweet Shirleen said...

I was always disappointed in Morse on TV as in the books it was the contrast between a scruffy beer drinker, with a love of opera and vintage cars. Midsomer is totally unbelievable but pretty (apart from Barnaby), and gave that warm feeling that City life is ok it's all those villages that push the crime levels up!

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