Foyle's War

Two years ago we got Netflix, and despite their PR debacle last fall, we have had uninterrupted service since then and I have not regretted our decision. Our decision was originally born out of two factors: to assuage the guilt we knew was entirely possible in buying a Wii and Wii Fit, and, having watched all of the BBC period pieces at our public library, to keep a continuous stream of British drama for our insatiable appetites. Long after the guilt over the Wii Fit has disappeared, Netflix remains, continuing to offer us a feast of British shows.

Our newest discovery on Netflix is a show my sisters had recommended to me years ago but which just arrived on Netflix instant streaming: Foyle's War. One of the minor bummers of last week's storm was that we had just watched the first episode the night before the storm knocked out our power, which prevented us from watching more until this weekend. We are three episodes in now, and I am already disappointed that there are only 22 episodes.

My semi-addiction (already) has got me thinking about why I like it.