Finally!

My dear godmother and occasional commenter, Tante Rose, has been gently nudging me to watch a movie. A particular movie, one not showing in our local multiplexes. (The news, by the way, that a 14-screen movie theatre is coming to town, to downtown rather than the exurbs, is thrilling me lately.) She mentioned it last about a month ago, after I got snarky about Walk the Line and Ray. I put it at the top of the netflix queue, and it turned up--and then sat on the top of the chest where our TV resides for, well, almost a month. Sigh.

Gearing up to see a two-and-a-half hour movie, in Czech, took a while. If I started after Nick went to bed, it would be midnight before I could turn in. If I started while he was still awake, and had to interrupt it--well, that didn't bear thinking of. And then, the captioning meant knitting would be hard, and I really do like to keep my hands occupied while watching TV if at all possible.

Excuses, excuses.

Last night Mariah had a babysitting gig and Nick and Mark were out at Y Guides and I watched Zelary. Finally. And it was indeed worth the wait. A lovely, poignant movie about making the best of the worst, and having it be, well, better than expected. Do see it, if you get the chance. Remember, I know all the reasons you'll have for skipping it.