Without intending to, Rob and I have a summer thing when it comes to watching TV; we pick a show we've never watched before, and devour however many seasons exist by consuming several episodes at a time, while lounging around lazily once the kids settle for the night.
In the summer of 2010 we made it through five complete seasons of Friday Night Lights. Texas wasn't even on my radar then, and high school football was far away from my idea of fun, but now I want to know more about both. To this day, I think it's probably the best show I've ever watched, and I'd be lying if I didn't admit to feeling verklempt when the fifth season ended. Oh, and when I grow up I totally want to be Tami Taylor.
Last summer it was all about How I Met Your Mother. I have no idea how we chose that show, but it was so darn good we plowed through a whopping six seasons in two months, staying up far too late in order to watch "just one more episode" when it was well past our bedtime.
This year, we're finally embracing Mad Men. A few years back, we watched the first three episodes of the first season three times each (say that five times over!), and just couldn't get into the show. It seemed so uninteresting and slow, and I couldn't see the appeal. When we recently decided to cancel our cable, we connected Netflix, where the first four seasons of the show are free for the watching. I refused to see those same three episodes yet again, so we started with the fourth one, and in less than three weeks we're now smack in the middle of the third season.
Which brings me around to happy hour. With no evening activities on our calendar for the next two months we're taking a cue from the 1960s, and sharing finger foods and drinks Chez Scott semi-regularly around 5:30pm. The food is nothing fancy as you can see. Last night we shared sangria and cold beer paired with tiny toasts and pistachios. But next week I'm going to up the ante, and chanel my inner Betty Draper, by setting out cold chicken salad on Ritz crackers. Oooh, this is going to be fun.