Another bare and dreary Abbeyless Sunday night, so I think a little tribute is in order.
Awhile back, I came across this article on the ever popular Huffington Post, and I’ve been meaning to share it with you ever since. In it, the journalist explains how today’s working women can learn valuable lessons from the women of Downton Abbey. The writer is, if you can believe it, not being facetious. She was completely serious. (I am laughing as I’m writing this. She was serious! A Serious Article for a Very Serious blog. It’s just too good.)
So, though I hate to beat a dead horse here, I’m left with no choice but to sit back, take a breath, and ask the same question I asked in my last Dowton Abbey post, which is: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
Funny, I thought Downton Abbey was a silly pseudodrama about a life of unfathomable luxury, but apparently the oh-so-believable travails of the oh-so-believeable Crawley women provide guidance for us all. One of the first things the writer points out is how we can learn to manage money in marriage from Lord and Lady Grantham–Lord and Lady Grantham! The Lord and the Lady are going to show us how to deal with our money woes. Do you think they use the Dave Ramsey cash system?
Okay, alright. In fairness, I should point out that two exceptionally sound points are made in this article:[sociallocker id=”9134″]
1) “Choose your marriage partner well.” I would have never, ever thought of this if weren’t for Downton Abbey (and the Huff Post for so kindly pointing it out to me.) I’m gonna print this out and paste it to the inside of my girls’ backpacks.
2) “Have breakfast in bed.” Except the writer didn’t tell me who would make the breakfast and bring it to me while I sat in bed. I think Anna might be busy with Lady Mary.
Pearls of wisdom, to be sure. Tell me, friends: how are things like this getting published? I don’t know. But I do know that this brilliant article recommends “bringing in outside help for housecleaning and garden maintenance” to ease marital stress. Certainly a cue we can all take from the Dowager. Why hadn’t this occurred to me before? If it had, I’m quite certain, dahling, that Derrick and I would be getting along with each other swimmingly. Just swimmingly.