Ges on the Box; Heaterless bathroom is bubble trouble

ON the odd occasion, my innate idleness results in a little gem the more active among you would have missed.

Thursday’s telly schedule being what it was, I booked myself in for a long soak and an early night. But not until I’d seen the unfortunates on “Masterchef” burn, undercook and weep their way through to the quarter finals.

Between you and me, I have high hopes for myself here — until you’ve tasted my walnut-infused cous cous with roasted aubergine and Scotch bonnet chilli served with a warm puree of raw cod and Chocolate Orange, you’ve tasted nothing.

Anyway, you know me and reality shows: I do love a good one. Which is why I eschewed “Big Bother” for bubbles. Verne and LaToya (aka Michael) aside, none of them are worth watching.

And if I don’t start making inroads on the Christmas bulk delivery of bubbles, I’ll not have room for this year’s shipment. Currently, I smell like a wild rosehip with a hint of chocolate vanilla and an overtone of brandied peach. I wouldn’t call it exactly pleasant, but Him Indoors keeps trying to lick me, so I could have discovered a new aphrodisiac.

Or maybe I should just try cooking him something for tea.

Anyway, “Masterchef” is finished, with the delightful Dennice getting her rum, coconut and lime confection through to the quarters. So that just leaves me to heave my bulk off the settee and into the bath.

It’s cold in there (Him Indoors doesn’t do centrally-heated bathrooms. He’s tough). So I procrastinate. I even read my bank statement — it was a weepie but the tissues were just out of reach on the coffee table, next to the remote. I lie there telling myself to “get up or else you’ll regret it when you have to shower at 5.30am in the cold bathroom.” And I nearly did. Honest.

But just then, a new series, “Victorian Farm”, started. Well, it’s rude to rush away when you meet new people so I hung around for a while. And, as a sort-of reality show, it wasn’t half bad.

It’s about a bunch of historians living the high life as Victorian farmers (see how the theme and the title sort of link in quite neatly there?) It had a lot of bed bug-searching, piccalilli-making, fireplace-building and mutton-boiling in it.

Not, generally, my kind of show. Too close to hard work. But after watching the hapless Alex (or maybe it was Peter) chase an independently-minded ewe escapee, I was hooked. That and the shire horses, of course.

I’ve already pencilled in this week’s episode to watch (Thursday, BBC2, 9pm). And yes, it was freezing in the heaterless bathroom at 5.30am, Friday.