soggy popcorn and sappy romance

I have a little addiction.

And it's not popcorn. What you are seeing here is a very pretty, failed attempt at kettle corn. It was only meant to accompany my addiction.

What I am actually addicted to is 19th century British romance.

And maybe Alan Rickman.

It started with that gateway drug, Jane Austen. Then I couldn't get enough of the Brontë sisters. I got through the books, and the movies, and still had cravings. Then I found these miniseries. 

Each one offers about 4 whopping hours of beautifully accented romance. Each one leads to more recommendations on Netflix.

There is always a heroine who is too outspoken for her time. There is always a hero, who is gruff, but so sensitive at heart. (Why can't she see it?!) There are English gardens and rolling green hills. There are bonnets, and tea, and dresses, and dances.

So after a strange and stressful weekend, this Wednesday found me in my pajama pants on the couch, munching on soggy kettle corn, and pleading with Molly to just tell Roger how she feels.

Highly recommended.


  1. Omg. Me too. I have a sappy British period piece on pretty much constantly in my neck of the woods...and I think they inspire just about everything else in my life! Oh, the moors of England!

  2. Sheesh. We'd better just buy a house in England and move in together already.


Thanks for making me smile. =)