When last I posted early Saturday evening, I expressed that I was hoping my younger brother would remain with his girlfriend Bev and spend the night at her home.
However, just as he had the Saturday before that, he showed up here with her.
They both seemed to be in quite good condition ─ i.e., relatively sober. And they had brought home a mess of Church's Chicken fare.
I had already eaten, but there were always my two stepsons ─ neither of whom were then home.
Employing our T9 Android 8.1 TV Box, I summoned up a movie for us to try and enjoy ─ Clint Eastwood's The Mule.
I have made the decision that ─ due to the progression of that evening ─ when Bev is our guest, I am no longer going to select any movies that I would otherwise knowingly enjoy.
Bev's consumption of white wine overcame her good sense, and she was soon uncontrollable with incessant loud gab ─ usually asking questions insistently and in such volume that immersion into the movie was almost impossible.
And she expressed every little thought that occurred ─ even when it did not relate to the movie.
My brother clearly began to lose his patience with her, and started to loudly tell her to just shut-up and watch the movie, rightly declaring that she might be able to follow it if she wasn't blathering on endlessly.
Of course, that elicited profusely loud and extended sarcastic apologies that were every bit as annoying.
The movie otherwise was very much enjoyed by my brother and I, but he surprised me toward the end by voicing perplexity over something that I had also found to be glaringly inexplicable.
And apparently we were not alone, for I was led to make a Google search for clarification, and was only met with speculation as to what might have been intended in the film.
Specifically, Clint Eastwood's character had disappeared with over a million dollars worth of cocaine that he was supposed to be delivering ─ he learned that his (ex-?) wife was dying, so he aborted his delivery to go and be with his rather estranged family for her final days.
She subsequently died, and he remained for her funeral and memorial.
Then he got back on the job.
By then, the drug cartel were furiously searching for him with orders to kill him.
Two of the cartel did find him, and things looked bleak ─ until a brochure announcing the memorial for the dead woman fell out of Clint Eastwood's character's jacket as he was being roughed up.
When the foremost of the two cartel members demanded to know what it was, Clint Eastwood's character explained, and was nonetheless resigned that he was about to die.
Inexplicably, the two cartel members seemed reluctant to kill him ─ even while on a cellphone call with their leader, who was ordering them to go through with it.
The next thing we see is Clint Eastwood's character driving his fancy black pickup, and looking rather bloodied. The Feds meantime finally had him tracked down, and he was intercepted.
There later came a court scene in which it sounded like Clint Eastwood's character was being associated or connected with the death or deaths of one or more cartel members.
And this was where both my brother and I ─ apparently along with others who have seen the movie ─ found ourselves confused.
It was never clearly shown that Clint Eastwood's character was set free by the two cartel members who were supposed to kill him. It could only be assumed, since clearly the old man could not have fought his way out of the threat ─ he could hardly walk well, let alone fight anybody. At his age well into his 80s, he just sort of shuffled along.
So why would two cartel members go against orders and let him go free with just a bloodying derived from an essentially harmless roughing up?
And also that courtroom statement that sounded to many movie-viewers that Clint Eastwood's character was connected to one or more deaths of cartel members?
He was only ever shown in the presence of one body ─ that of the previous cartel head honcho who rather liked the old man he had in his employ. However, that cartel headman had been murdered by a ruthless underling with aspirations of becoming the top dog.
Clint Eastwood's character saw the body in the trunk of a cartel car, but that was his only involvement with it ─ the authorities could never have known he had been anywhere near the corpse.
But I am digressing too much.
What is my intention henceforth concerning Bev when it comes to watching movies anytime she may be here?
Obviously, I will simply not be selecting any movies that I know my brother and I would like to sit together and enjoy.
I shall let him know beforehand what I have in mind. The two of us will just have to settle for more frivolous and comedic light-hearted fare. The deeper dramatic and action-filled movies will have to be reserved for times when Bev is not a presence.
She is absolutely fabulous to have around during the Christmas season when we gather to watch Christmas movies ─ one after the other.
Perhaps even that sort of romance-themed fare is also an option ─ not Christmas movies per se, but certainly the sort of movie that one would associate with Hallmark or Lifetime.
They can be enjoyable once one allows oneself to be drawn into them.
Suffice to say that Bev of course spent the night; and it was very early in the afternoon on Sunday when she and my brother headed off.
I did not expect our heatwave to end so abruptly ─ Sunday proved to be surprisingly overcast.
I had designs on getting out to do some grocery shopping during that latter afternoon; I had just rested up in my bed with that end in mind, and was inspiring myself with an all-women MMA programme and a hot caffeinated beverage.
And then I saw my wife arriving home.
She had only returned to Canada ─ probably Friday evening ─ after being away for over a month in Thailand to visit her mother. This was her first appearance home since before she left.
So much for getting out to do any shopping!
She was only here for a few hours, by which time both of her sons who had been present at her homecoming had each left home to go somewhere.
At least I believe that her youngest did wish her a "Happy Mother's Day," for such was the Sunday.
When I saw her off, she said that she would be back sometime today. It is 4:14 p.m. as I type these words, but there has been no sign of her yet.
My younger brother arrived home especially early yesterday ─ it was no later than 5:50 p.m., and I was home alone.
I had intended a bath, so I hastily got at it before he had yet shown himself ─ I did not wish to have to be operating our Android TV Box and have to forego that needed cleansing.
My brother doesn't know how to operate the Android TV Box, so that is my role.
Well, I had my bath. But when I emerged from the bathroom, I saw that my brother had already passed out in his favourite chair in the living room, with the news channel that we can receive via our T.V.'s basic cable package playing.
Fearing that he was too besotted to be worthy company ─ and because I was decidedly tired ─ I decided to just go to bed and not become involved with him.
It was not yet quite 7:00 p.m.
Nevertheless, I did manage to fall asleep without too much trouble. But by 10:00 p.m., I was awake enough to wonder on the time.
I felt rested ─ too rested to sleep any further, for I tried. And so I bided time, waiting for my brother to be done with T.V. for the evening and to then go to his bedroom.
He did so fairly early into the midnight hour.
I emerged from my bedroom and came here to my computer (which I keep in a small room next to my bedroom), and was soon at work on the day's content assignment for the post I have under construction at one of my six hosted websites.
My youngest stepson was still up, but he went to bed long before my work was done.
Believe it or not, it was just after 5:00 a.m. this morning before I returned to my bed. And although I did manage further sleep, I did not feel especially well-rested when I rose shortly after 9:00 a.m. while my brother was downstairs watching T.V.
I joined him at 10:00 a.m. and used our Android TV Box to summon up a movie for us. My selection was The Lost City of Z.
It kept my brother and I involved ─ me more than he. I have been aware of "Colonel Fawcett" since at least the second half of the 1960s, thanks to an interest my friend Philip David Prince and I had then shared about living somewhere in the New World tropical jungles.
The movie was long, and took us well into the noon-hour, by which time my brother was ready to seek some bed rest ere taking off for the afternoon.
Today was even more overcast than yesterday.
While my brother rested, I changed into cutoffs, a tank top, and runners in order to have some exercise out in the backyard tool-shed.
First, though, I weighed myself before going out there. Dressed exactly as described, I registered at least 193 pounds!
I really must do something about my accumulating weight ─ the mid-section bulge I am developing is both disturbing and something of a mystery to me.
I find the temperature to be rather unpleasantly cool now that the streak of intensely sunny weather has ended.
I want to post the last of the photos that were taken when a niece of my wife got married back on February 25, 2018 ─ the photos were probably taken in the city of Udon Thani.
The first two photos feature the bride and groom ─ but the first photo also features my wife, who is rather tall for a Thai woman:
I don't know who this little girl is:
I also do not know who these two ladies are:
It is a little past 5:00 p.m. right now. I am going to have a rest again, and then see if I can mobilize and get away on the shopping expedition I have been wanting to do.
It is a walk of at least 1¼ miles to get to the store I have in mind; but if either my wife or my brother show up here at home before I can get away, then I will not be going.
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