OK, confession time.
I bawled from the minute it started until three hours after it ended. I was a sniveling, snotty, simpering hot mess of I don't know what. I must have needed a good cry, because I just could not get a grip and enjoy the entire loveliness of it all.
A Sopranos ending, this was not.
(I will hereby reveal that I went completely off the deep end when THAT particular show ended, too, but I was so frustrated yet amazed by its ending that I didn't have the wherewithal to bawl.)
But this time it was different and I felt like I was being gently shown to the door with a polite "Thank you for visiting"... but I still had my teacup in my hands and I wanted to spend just one more day or week or month behaving nicely and ringing for Carson.
Lovely, lovely, lovely. Watching Downton Abbey was a good scrubby bath after all of the crazy filth that I usually watch by way of Housewives and Vanderpumps. I always felt like it was the equivalent of a healthy sensible dinner on a Sunday after a week of greasy burgers and fries.
Well, I suppose that I had better suck it up and get on with it. There's always Pinterest and the commemorative books and dvd's to be had, I'm sure.
No stitching last night, obviously, but Stewey has suggested that we spend some time on the back patio today. It's warm and lovely and methinks some fresh air might do a body good!