I’m so glad this is the final season of Downton Abbey. Sloppy, tired writing seems to be the order of the day for the final series.

The characters have become monstrously tiresome. I find myself spending 90% of the episode willing Lady Mary, Anna and Cora to fall down a well,
or for Mrs Patmore to poison everyone with her cooking, ‘Tooh-dehhhh we’re cooking vole penis in a nice jellied sauce of endocrine gland fluid,
with fresh, steamed garden vegetables’.

I won’t* tell you what I was willing to happen whilst watching Carson marry Mrs Hughes.

*But I can give a hint . .

It involved one of Mr Carson’s unwashed socks, the wedding cake, Mr Bates walking stick, and Lady Mary’s prize winning pig.