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Who am I?

I am an obscure great-great-grandson of Oscar Adolphe Barcelo & Eugenie Beaudry of MontrΓ©al.

And I am an equally obscure great-grandson of George Henry Leandre Barcelo & Sarah Anne Bird of Winnipeg (Manitoba) and Langdon (North Dakota).

Sunday, 17 May 2020

A Sound Glimpse into My Younger Brother's Financial Status



What a difference this morning was from yesterday morning!

Due to my folly succeeding the publication of yesterday's post, I had a bath far too late ─ I started it well after 7:30 p.m. By the time I was done, my younger brother was home and watching T.V.

I was obligated to join him and put our T9 Android 8.1 TV Box into service (he is unable to operate it). I tuned in an episode each of three of the series we watch, and then I took my leave and went to bed.

However, due to the aforementioned folly, I felt myself needing some drink as we watched T.V. ─ I was to have an ounce or two of liquor, and a can of strong (8% alcohol) beer.

It may have been just after 11:00 p.m. when I got myself to bed. And although I did get to sleep, early in the a.m. I was experiencing some hangover. I even remember what had to have been a dream ─ praying in some anguish to God for financial deliverance so that I could finally move far away from here, and in so doing finally grant freedom to our dog that had to be chained up in the backyard.

As I gained consciousness thereafter, I was still gripped by the emotion of that prayer ─ until it slowly washed over me that we have no dog.

I could only have been dreaming of Mark's German shepherd Daboda, the last dog we have ever owned. Daboda died in the early 1980s.

I am certain that the alcohol was messing with my brain.

Anyway, I think that I checked the time once or twice in between short bouts of sleep, and finally decided that it was late enough to get up ─ perhaps around 3:30 a.m.

I wanted to put in some work on the post I am almost completed at one of my six hosted websites; and then it was my hope to be able to get away very soon after 6:00 a.m. on the round trip hike of 5.625 miles to the nearest outlet of the Real Canadian Superstore.

It opens each day at 7:00 a.m., and that first hour is devoted to "dedicated shopping":
Supermarkets will open from 7am-8pm, with the first hour dedicated to seniors and those with disabilities. 
I qualify ─ I am 70 years old.

But I have yet to manage to arrive within a few minutes of 7:00 a.m. ─ I am usually at least 15 minutes 'late'. And once I have gathered my purchases together and gone to the checkout area, there has always been a lineup of other shoppers ahead of me. Shoppers have to await direction from a store employee to advance and are then ushered to a specific available cashier ─ no lineups are permitted at the individual check-out stations.

Then after I have left the store on those occasions, I always discover a lineup outside of a dozen or more customers who are awaiting admittance into the store itself each time other customers leave the store ─ this lineup is what I want nothing to do with.

That is why I seek to arrive at the store as soon after 7:00 a.m. as possible for me. Since I do not drive, I have to walk.

Well, it was lightly raining when I rose this early a.m., and at times the rain increased in intensity.

Immediately after rising, I went downstairs and boiled water for a mug of hot and black instant coffee.

It might have been as late as 5:45 a.m. when I began readying for my journey, but this process of readying myself is never as speedy as I always fool myself into believing that it will be. I am sure that it took me at least a half hour before I finally was on my way.

I had even stood fully dressed to go when I struggled with myself over the necessity of the trip ─ I was daunted by the presently quite heavy rain. I would be travelling without an umbrella or even a hat; and my upper body was protected with a denim jacket, a denim vest beneath that, a shirt, and a tee shirt.

Could I feasibly hike over 2¾ miles in such rain and not be so thoroughly drenched that I would blanch from actually presenting myself at the store once I had arrived there?

I wrestled for a time with that dilemma, and almost resolved to wait a week. But somehow I became able to access 'sterner stuff' and I resolutely decided to at least try.

Only after I was on my way did it occur to me that I had to go ─ I was almost out of heavy whipping cream to use in my two daily hot caffeinated beverages. The cream can be purchased for $3.59 a litre if two litres are purchased. By comparison, one litre costs well over $5 ─ whether there or anywhere else that I am aware of.

I detest using the weak 10%-butterfat cream that my brother keeps in supply. My hot caffeinated beverages don't taste any creamier on that stuff than they would with skim milk.

And since I am a pensioner, I cannot in good conscience be paying over $5 for my preferred heavy whipping cream at some store nearer home ─ the journey was a must.

I did get pretty wet, but the rain was not always as intense as it was at my outset.

At one point, I even undertook a steep uphill jog of about two blocks along a walkway stretching from Fraser Highway quite near to 138th Street, and running up to 100th Avenue (as can be seen on this Google map). That walkway progresses beyond 100th Avenue, but I turn right there and follow the avenue to 140th Street and then up to 101A Avenue as I work my way through the backroads to my destination (Google map).

I was very pleased with myself on that uphill jog, for I have not undertaken anything like it in many, many months.

The rain must have deterred other shoppers, for even though it was likely around 7:15 a.m. when I reached the store, by the time I had my purchases and had proceeded to the check-out area, there was no lineup.

Nor were there any shoppers lined up outside awaiting admission once I exited the store.

I was probably back home by 8:20 a.m.

My youngest stepson was soon up; and then my brother not too very long after him.

I resisted returning to bed until around 10:00 a.m., but I never managed to nap for much. I was up well ahead of noon.

Finally, I was set to enjoy my day's first hot caffeinated beverage ─ it is practically an energy meal in itself comprised of instant coffee, cocoa powder, demerara brown sugar, honey, blackstrap molasses, and whipping cream.

This drink can vitalize, and banish hunger.

By the way, I weighed myself before taking that nap earlier ─ in my undershorts, I was around 185 pounds.

With my drink in hand as I sat here at my computer, I was all set to try and accomplish much ─ perhaps work more on my website post, and even begin work on this blog post. But before I had a chance, my brother intervened.

He hesitantly offered me an invitation to perhaps work out his income tax return for him and save him having an accountant do it. He had always used an accountant because he had been self-employed until he retired in the Spring of 2018, I believe.

He claimed not to have any unusual income sources ─ just the same that I probably had.

I allowed to my willingness if this was indeed the case, expecting that I would maybe get started on it tomorrow. However, my brother leapt at the offer and immediately said that he would gather up his various slips and receipts ─ he was clearly expecting me to get started in the present.

And so it was to be.

Using my own tax return draft as a guide, I got to work on his ─ it had been well over two months since I had completed my own, and I needed the refreshing that my draft copy provided.

He dutifully sat watching T.V. as time passed while I worked. I finally told him to go and take his usual afternoon rest, for I knew that he would be driving off later in the afternoon for his daily socializing.

I was surprised to find that my brother's taxable income was on the order of $1,000 or so higher than my own. Unfortunately, though, the greater portion of my pension income comes from my employment with the federal government, whereas he had no such benefit. All he could ever do in his working life was try and accumulate as much of a personal RRSP fund as he could for his retirement.

And so last year, he had withdrawn (or redeemed) nearly 20 grand ($20,000) of that money to augment his insufficient Old Age Security and his Canada Pension Plan income.

My employment pension qualifies me for a $2,000 credit in reducing both my payable federal and provincial taxes, but his RRSP withdrawals do not allow of such a credit.

In addition, I ensured that my employment pension as well as my Old Age Security and Canada Pension both had extra income tax taken from them each and every month beyond what would have otherwise been the case. I wanted as much of a refund cushion as possible available to me each year when I filed my income tax return.

My brother did not do this. Sure, his RRSP withdrawals had a mandatory 10% withholding  of income tax when he made the redemptions; but only one of his other two pensions (the Old Age Security and Canada Pension) had any income tax taken at all, and it was for the most minimum possible.

I worked out his rough draft's bad news while he was resting; and then when he came back downstairs, I broke it to him ─ he owed $458 (and change), if my calculations were accurate.

I didn't tell him that I had gotten a refund of approximately $1,500.

I have never had any sense of what my brother's retirement income is, and now I know. And I feel deeply sorry for the poor guy. I wish that I could be in a position to help my brother.

To be honest, seeing what I saw has hurt me.

I have no idea how much my brother has piled into his RRSP over his working life, but for how many years from this point can he be redeeming as much as $20,000 on an annual basis?

This breaks my heart.

I'll close with that admission.

Incidentally, the afternoon became quite sunny. 

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