Oh, this might be good

Or maybe bad. As in, I have no idea what's going to come out of this brain today.

It'll be blatherific.

Today's pointless photo, by the way, is of hoar-frosted spiderwebs. We had fog yesterday, you see.

Speaking of fog, I did my taxes last night. Would you like to hear all about them?

Yeah, I kind of figured. Oh well, at least they're done for another year. I have to admit that even after a few rounds of netfiling I'm still not entirely used to my financial situation depending on a simple confirmation number, though. I keep thinking that some official looking person in a suit is going to pop up one day with a half-metre's worth of paperwork, a scowl on his/her face, and a button that says, "Did you honestly think we were serious about the electronic nonsense?".

I do have that slight problem with paranoia, however, so I wouldn't worry about it too much.

Let's see... what else have I got? Well, there's last night's dream about the nature centre's snakes, I suppose, but that was so much a work dream that I'm not sure it bears analysing. I knew exactly what it was from the moment I woke up, so I don't think there's a whole lot of point in hashing it out again.

Besides, I understand that there are a few people out there who don't like snakes for some reason.

Ok, I think I've got one. I said a few days ago that I was going to explain why my love of British entertainment boggles my father a little, and then I never got back to it. It's probably not nearly as interesting as I thought it was going to be, but it'll fill some space.

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First off, let me state outright that I'm under no delusion that everything on UK television is absolutely wonderful. I know that there's a lot of crap out there (as best I can know, that is, having never been over there to see it in person), just like there's a lot of crap over here. I also know that there are some things that British television does very well, and I happen to be a fan of those things.

To be fair, there are also things that Canadian television does well, and I'm a fan of those things too. And, of course, there are things that American television does well. Fill in the rest of the statement yourself. By now you should know how it goes.

Right now we're talking about what British television does well, however.

We could start with costume dramas, I guess, but I have to say that as much as I watch them and enjoy them I do find a lot of them completely ridiculous. I suppose it's because I have an interest in social history, and some of the ways the modern scriptwriter has to twist behaviours and situations from the past to make them seem right to a modern audience appeal to both my ability for righteous indignation and my sense of the absurd. Want an example? Hmmm. Let's see. All right, how about the simple act of kissing? Back in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries it would never have happened in public (scandalous!) and, seeing as how dental hygiene wasn't what it is now, wouldn't have been nearly as... um... sought after? as it is today. Frenching a mouthful of rotten teeth isn't quite as romantic as you might think. Erm, not that I know from personal experience. Anyway, today's audience (should I say female audience, or is that being too clichéd?) expects a love story to end with a full-on tonsillectomy, so no matter how preposterous it might be that's what we get.

So much for costume drama. I do like it, though, even if it's kind of silly.

What I really enjoy about British television, actually, is the comedy. I was Pythonised at an early age, but it's since branched out in a big way. I prefer sketch comedy (probably suits the short attention span the best), but I definitely have my favourite sitcoms and... I was going to say quiz shows, but does QI really count as a quiz show? I think maybe it needs a category of its own.

I have a fair amount of stuff on DVD, but I'll watch what comes up on PBS or on the specialty channels. And, of course, nowadays I catch what I can through the internet. I'll sit down here in front of the computer for longer than I care to admit laughing my fool head off at whatever my random (ok, not always terribly random) searches have managed to pull up and wishing that some of our local television providers could see that they should be rebroadcasting this stuff in Canada. Just to please me, yes.

All of which puzzles my father a bit.

There's somewhat of a mental block there, I have to say, and it might not be the one you're expecting. I know that some of our more "clever" rednecks like to make fun of nancy British accents and wonder why so many of the men seem to like dressing up in women's clothing, but that's not the trouble for my dad.

He was born in England, you see. A war baby. After the war my grandma, a war bride, came to Canada to start a new life with the Canadian soldier she'd married. I've no doubt that she was homesick, and since her husband died when my father was in his teens she more or less found herself stuck raising three boys in a strange country.

As a result, my father grew up hearing how great England was and how things would have been different there. And, you might imagine, resenting it. As a result, his tendency as an adult was to avoid most things English.

Ending up with an anglophile daughter confuses him a little, I think.

It doesn't confuse me. Combine a taste for the English sense of humour with a curiosity about my own family's history and add in the fact that I never had to live with having another country valued over my own, and it seems pretty natural that I'd seek out English things.

And if I'm going to be honest I think I may have won him over to Fry and Laurie at least a little bit.

However grudgingly.

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And with that, boys and girls, today's novel is officially more than long enough. Happy Easter to those of you celebrating, and if I happen to not be near a computer tomorrow (haven't quite decided what the plans are yet)... you know, I have no idea how I was going to end that sentence. Happy day after Easter?

Yep, that'll do.