My British Invasion

It's official: The Brits have conquered my summer, and their victory has nothing to do with the London Olympics Games that officially started today.

This is is not my first Anglo-fied summer vacation. Since moving to my cute little cowtown, my free minutes between school stuff, Relief Society stuff, Institute stuff, library stuff, and family stuff have been filled with Colin Firth movie marathons and my yearly rereading of the Harry Potter series.

But this summer has been different.

My own personal British invasion started before the school year ended when my dear pal Val and I decided to end a fabulous girls-night-out with a DVD she had borrowed from a former kidlet.

We were just going to watch one episode of Downton Abbey... and four episodes later, somewhere around 1 a.m., we were still cheering on Mr. Bates and chastising Lady Mary from our perches on my couch. (What do you think, Val? Is it too late to give Bonnie some extra credit for the use of her dvd's?)

But the upstairs, downstairs drama of of Downton was only the first wave of attack, the infiltrating force that softened up my already squishy start-of-summer brain.

The real shock and awe campaign came when I bought Homely the 2nd season DVD's of Sherlock. He and my mother insisted I watch the first season with them and, only one 90-minute episode in, I knew I was a goner. Nothing else on TV could compare.

At least, nothing on American TV...

Since watching all six Sherlocks (They only film three every 18 months! That is three episodes every year and a half! Not getting any new Sherlocks until the Spring of 2013 might be grounds for a replay of key revolutionary war battles!), I have relinquished control over my precious little free time to the BBC. I have surrendered to the accent. I have capitulated to the dry wit. My short supply of summer free time has been completely given over to British TV.

Val (I'm beginning to think she might be on the British payroll) recommended a very clever show about a doctor with a fear of blood (I think the character must have been based on one of my British relatives).

And then my sister got me hooked on the campiest, silliest show in the universe. I only started watching Doctor Who because the co-creators of Sherlock act in  and/or write for The Doctor, but it has earned my love and respect on its own since then. I watched the first season on my Kindle while I sat in the baking sun and soaking rain during the library book sale, so I kind of feel like The Doctor and Rose saved me right along with all of those other clueless earthlings.

I am trying to get as many episodes watched as I can before school starts, but it is kind of difficult to make progress when I want to go back and rewatch my favorite episodes. I am anticipating a lot of late nights come the middle of August. And perhaps the use of a few sick days come September...

Of course, once I make it though all of seasons of Doctor Who, I will still have to wait until spring of 2013 to get a new Sherlock fix, so hustling through might not be in my best interest. I may have to spend Thanksgiving break in Washington so that Charlotte,  my dearest darling mission companion who lived in England while earning her masters degree can educate me on BBC-detox procedures.

Anyway... if you catch me humming "God Save the Queen" or pricing plane tickets to Cardiff, don't be surprised.  Of course, if you hear me speaking with an English accent at any time, feel free to slap me.