The evenings this past week or so have been spent catching bits and pieces of Manor House--A show that was produced some eight-odd years ago. It was a new sort of reality show, where modern 21st Century people volunteered to live life as Edwardians in and Edwardian Manor house. I hazily recall my sister recommending to me at the time, but of course it was during a time that I didn't have cable, and it wasn't available online. Now, the entire show happens to be on Youtube.
As you might imagine, certain participants of the project enjoyed their three month experience more so than others. The scullery maid, the lowest ranking staff, proved to be the most difficult role to cast as most 21st Century women objected to washing dishes, cleaning the kitchen, and tending the stove 16 hours a day. I would recommend viewing it, if you are looking for something new to watch.
As we watched the show, Mr. F. and I couldn't help notice the similarities between the duties of the lowest ranking servants (the scullery maid and the hall boy) to the activities that take up most of our time. Mr. F., for example, comes home from work and then spends the next four hours cooking dinner, doing the dishes, starting the laundry, and cleaning the living room all before crashing in bed exhausted. His duties sound remarkably like those of a scullery maid. I, on the other hand, relate more to the hall boy. I have to clean chamber pots (clean the bathrooms, dump training toilets, change soiled diapers), make sure the young master of the house (Finn) is fed all meals on time, run errands, help in housekeeping, etc. Also, the Hall boy has the added bonus of not actually having a room of his own. He sleeps, get this, in the hall. As you may know, I spend very little time sleeping in my own bed, so I like to think that I can relate. I mean, having a bed in the hall would actually be more convenient because then I wouldn't have so far to travel in the middle of the night. Like the hall boy, after an exhausting day of looking after people, cleaning, running around, etc., I have "the remaining part of the evening [to] be spent at [my] leisure" which is pretty much code for "passing out in bed."
So there you go. Mr. F. and I are pretty much living the life of Edwardian servants. Brilliant.
Oh, and just for kicks, I took the "Snob Test" to see how I fared. This was the reply:
You haven’t quite cut that snob mustard, Lady Susan. Being 48% snob doesn’t make you properly stuck up but nor does it condemn you to burn in middle-class hell. Unless you want to hang in snob limbo forever, brush up on those P’s and Q’s, buy yourself some fruit knives and start lying about your education quick.
Must start climbing that social ladder!