Being under the weather for more than a week following our trip to Italy has had a tendency to tarnish a wonderful experience. Upper-respiratory infection aggravated by allergies, energized by the exhausting 27-hour day coming home, and the effects of jet-lag on any attempts to rest, have come together to create a unique way for really feeling crappy.
Early this afternoon, we wondered where the plume was coming from as it stretched across our backyard. It turns out that a sudden breeze had lifted oak pollen off of our roof as well as the neighbor’s. I’m staying in!
Sunday at noon, here in St. Louis, “Eyes on the Prize” is being shown in three two-hour segments – one segment each Sunday. I can’t recall how many times I’ve watched many of the six segments, but the whole thing remains gut-wrenching. Watching the series is well worth being kept aware.
I’m hopeful for a program on the middle passage where anywhere from 16 to 60 million Africans died during their transport on slave ships. Their was apparently indifference in the record keeping to have an accurate number.
In a dim light... 