My brain isn’t working in its typical brilliant way–the brilliant bit was a joke, ya’ll, in case you didn’t realize–and the doctors have concluded, after much pricking and poking and blood guzzling, that my vitamin D levels are extremely low. Apparently, at a certain level, depression, fatigue, cognitive problems, and interesting things like that can happen. And they are happening, right now, as I type, in my brain. I forget words. I cry. I feel wiped out, sometimes to the point where it’s hard to take care of the things I must take care of.
I only wish I could pop open my skull and take a look inside and see what shenanigans those chemicals are up to. They seem quite naughty. But I’ll have to be content with getting lots of rest and taking vitamin D3 supplements. It’s slowly getting better, but I doubt I’ll be a bundle of energy bouncing off the walls any time soon.
All of that to say, I’ve been struggling to write. But I thought I’d share a post that I enjoyed. Jeannie Prinsen wrote a moving essay on Downton Abbey and one particular character whose fate was a bit unsettling.
Spoiler alert! I don’t want anyone getting in a tizzy because the post ruined their entire life–or at least their favorite show–because it gave away a plot twist. Consider yourself warned. Onto Jeannie’s post.
Downton Abbey ended last weekend after its sixth and final season. Like millions of other fans of the show, I loved it, and I’m going to miss it. Yes, I still have my DVD’s, but it’s not the same.
The grande finale episode was very touching and satisfying. Still, I’m left with this feeling that the Crawleys and their staff are going on with their life without us, and we’re missing it!
In most cases I enjoy thinking about the characters moving on in life. Read the rest at Little House on the Circle.