We’ve nearly finished our first week without television, and I can’t say I’m missing it.

From the point that we decided that the new Casa Spinneyhead wouldn’t have a TV I started noticing just how little there really was on the idiot box. It’s easy to turn on and hard to shut down but rarely ever edifies.

What have we been doing? Listening to music, unpacking the rubbish we brought with us, reading, all sorts of things that wouldn’t get done if we sat down in front of 100 Least Interesting Things We Can Make A List Of.

I’m having to do without the Playstation, and Clare absolutely must go to the pub tomorrow to watch the cricket, but we’re not completely without moving images. The laptop plays dvds, and those movies start when we want them to at no extra cost.

I haven’t told the TV licence people yet, but I expect their reaction to be a more extreme version of the one from the Sky rep who couldn’t get his little head around the fact that I was cancelling the subscription and moving to a house without Sky-, digi- or goggle box.

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