For several months last year (probably because I'd become addicted to my Netflix rental of BBC's Foyle's War series) I thought I'd like to move to Sussex County, England. It still appeals to me somewhat, actually. But this morning, while I'm grouting my bathroom floor, I've got the British Open golf tournament on television in my bedroom and I just checked out the broadcast from southern England. Result: It's blowing and raining in cold, driven spears there today. In high summer. Meanwhile, today in SB the weather is glorious, too glorious to be indoors grouting, but oh well.
An observation. On mid-day today there's a perfect sport on television to "view" from the other room, namely, football (soccer): the final of the Women's World Cup, to which the US team has (miraculously) qualified. I mean, you can hear the broadcast, but since nothing's happening except upon the occasional score--and each of those gives rise to a huge eruption of noise and are thereupon replayed at least five times--you can effectively see the whole match without having to watch it much, just by checking out the telecast a few times in two hours.
Now don't get me wrong. On occasion, soccer can be interesting, as with the women's amazing last-minute victory last week over Brazil to get them into the semi-finals. But its best function is as white noise in the other room while engaged in an absorbing indoor task.