My current position is sat on a train with Daphne on my lap travelling to my parents. I do love the fact people talk to you when you have a dog. Sadly I’m not a big talker in these situations. But I get why they can’t resist a chat and a cuddle with this beast.
I have a secret. Don’t tell my mate Amy but I cheated on her last night. I watched Nashville. I know, I know, it’s our thing. We watch Nashville and eat carbs and react to every melodramatic moment and mock the accents and moan about how irritating Scarlett’s squeaky nasal whine is. It’s our “thang”. But I couldn’t wait. I’m weak. Wasn’t it odd? I mean, OMG I love it, but odd nonetheless.
So we spend an hour rooting for our downtrodden First Lady of Country to pull through. We hear so much about #prayforRayna that we are sinking to our knees and asking our heavenly lady Patsy Cline to look down on Rayna and help her recover. Then shock horror she pulls through! She breaths, she sighs, she recognises Maddie and Daphne. She smiles. Hurrah!
Then oddly she is on a terrace and says she has been coming out here for weeks. Deacon is being released. She is going home soon. The end. Umm, where’s the drama, Nashville? Where is the cliffhanger? What’s going on ? I need me some fire!
I’m still obsessed. Uh-hub-sessed. I bought cowboy boots from Jones the Bootmaker years ago and until Nashville never had the guts to wear them. I love them tho. And I have so many pairs of bootleg jeans waiting for the skinny jean thing to end. I’m hoping that Nashville will achieve this for me. I mean, country is the soul of the Southern states. It’s about grit, determination, love, loss and strength. I’m all about at least one of those things. Determination. The determination of one man with chunky thighs hoping to be able to wear a looser trouser and cowboy boots. My word if that isn’t a life affirming tale what is?
Anyway, nearly at Birmingham New Street. Time for a train selfie.
Blog soon folks x
– Fuelled by Waitrose, inspired by Ina, Team Nigella since she deep fried a Bounty