If it’s past midnight then it must be the blogging hour. I’ve been battling a cold virus for the past week and a half and I’m ready to be free of it. The worst was seeing my son Justin coughing and hacking. He would look up at me and point to his eyes and then say “eyes” to let me know that his eyes were irritable. At times after a particularly racking cough he would look at us with a crooked smile as if to say, “shit, this is no fun!” He’s gotten through the worst of it. In fact, he’s become quite cranky in the last day or two, which just proves that he’s feeling better.
I was so sick last week that I ended up missing one of the Wednesday lectures that I’ve been enjoying so much (Religion, Politics & the Modern America Presidency.) The last of five lectures is this coming Wednesday. Plus there’s going to be a little book signing party on campus before the lecture. I had planned on picking up Professor Domke’s new book anyway. I might as well get a signed copy and have the chance to chat with him a little. I’m also hoping to get out to a matinee Tuesday or Wednesday to see I’m Not There, which is still at the Varsity. So having a phlegmy cold is cramping my style.
Tonight I watched The House Without a Christmas Tree, which was originally broadcast on television in 1972. I remember the film having quite an impact on me and I ordered a copy as soon as it was release on DVD. It’s the kind of intelligent family drama that doesn’t get made for broadcast telelvision anymore. The acting by Jason Robards, Mildred Natwick and especially young Lisa Lucas is exceptional. It actually quite a melancholy movie, but it earns its heartwarming ending. I was disappointed to see that it’s not carried by Netflix. It’d be a great disc to send my parents. Christmas will be here in just over a couple of weeks and I haven’t had to go to the mall once. I’d like to decorate the house a little, including a Christmas tree. This year I think we’ll be erecting a barrier around the traditional tree. I’m hoping that the plastic fencing will keep both Justin and the cats out of the tree. Sometimes hope is all we have.