Sometimes I end up doing strange stuff when I’m at my parents’ house (like I am right now). And I’m not just talking about going to Mass like this morning (breakfast was delicious, by the way).
For example, I went to the driving range this afternoon because my mom wanted to. Not that I have anything against golf or hitting at the driving range (except I’m terrible at it), it’s just not something I usually do. And I know I’m going to pay for it tomorrow. Golf is one of those activities that don’t feel particularly strenuous when you’re doing them, but afterwards your muscles yell at you. I was using my late grandmother’s clubs (can’t use my mom’s because she’s left-handed) and I’m sure she was disappointed in me. But I can only get better, right?
I also watched my first-ever episode of Downton Abbey this evening. I know everyone (including my parents) raves about the show, but I just tend to forget about Masterpiece programs that aren’t either Sherlock or adaptations of Jane Austen novels. (Speaking of which, I first saw the two Jane Austen film adaptations I just bought from Amazon on Masterpiece.) I enjoyed the episode, but I can almost guarantee that I won’t watch next week; it’s just not in my normal TV-watching routine. I also enjoyed the mental game I made up of Harry Potter, Doctor Who, or Robin Hood in which I tried to ascertain why I recognized a particular actor.