The moo-cows,baa-lambs and Grundies were dreary. Don’t let the wets winI’m not certain that I can withstand another year of the Helen and Rob trade. I’ve never listened to the dreary old Archers before, but now that it’s not so dreary, or listening is mandatory. It has just been Archers,Archers, Archers for months: long car journeys with Archers chat only, or visitors insisting it be switched on while they’re here,and I may not phone Rosemary at 2 or 7 pm, who still loves it after nearly 50 years of listening.It is no discriminator of persons or class, or ” says she. “Like worms and nits.” And now I am sort of hooked,although I don’t want to be. Same with Fielding, because we’re both enmeshed in too many other series: Saturday Scandi-noirs, or Undercover,Line of Duty, Blue Eyes, and (only for me) EastEnders. We have barely a night off,and Fielding is getting frightfully muddled. He no longer knows which headless-body/serial-killer/paedophile-ring/female-detective-with-hopeless-private-life belongs to which series. And now we have to cram in the Archers.
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Source: theguardian.com