My younger brother arrived home last evening around 8:20 p.m., and it appeared that I was to have to sit up with him in operation of our Android TV Box, finding episodes of a few of the T.V. series we follow.
However, instead of remaining in the house, he changed clothes and was then outside sprinkling grass seed all over the damp lawn (there had been a light rain).
I have an unspoken (to him) 8:30 p.m. deadline in which he needs to arrive home, or else I will seek an early bedtime to avoid sitting up late; and it is also a deadline set to avoid exposing myself to his potentially excessive drunkenness. He is no fit company to try and watch T.V. with if he's blitzed.
Well, it occurred to me after 8:30 p.m. arrived and passed and he was still mucking around outside that there was scant difference for me in him not being at home at all ─ that is, time was wasting, and the three episodes of T.V. that I was likely going to be tuning in had as yet not been started.
A couple of the T.V. series we have of late been watching have episodes that run for practically an hour, even though they are commercial-free. Thus, even when I start watching our shows with my brother, I have been finding that I am not getting to bed until 11:30 p.m. or later.
I don't like sitting up as late as that just to watch T.V. with my drunken brother.
So with time accumulating after 8:30 p.m., I began clearing things away to free me up for an early bedtime as surely as if my brother had not as yet gotten home. And by 8:42 p.m., I was into my bed. He was going to have to do a better job of presenting himself for an evening of T.V. with me ─ if we haven't begun our shows by 8:30 p.m., then I am not interested in beginning them at all.
I don't recall having too much difficulty eventually lapsing into sleep, but I had my usual fragmented style of it. Then perhaps around 12:20 a.m. I checked the time; and when 20 or so minutes later I was no nearer a return to sleep, I decided to rise to put in work on the post I am developing at one of my six hosted websites.
My bedroom was uncommonly muggy and warm despite a very light rain outside, and a window open to well more than a foot in width.
One or both of my stepsons were still up, but my brother had gone to bed considerably earlier. And in time, only I was still up.
Just after 3:30 a.m., the extremely light rain developed into a lengthy and serious downpour. And I was back in bed ahead of 4:00 a.m.
Fragmented sleep was to resume, but before 7:00 a.m. I was having too much trouble finding my way back into any further of it. Nevertheless, I did my best until 8:00 a.m. when I decided that I might as well rise.
I was no sooner back here at my computer when my brother emerged from his bedroom for the morning.
Any rain had already stopped for the day. There were lots of sunny breaks in the afternoon; when I rose from an early afternoon nap, I even wondered if sunning was a possibility ─ had I the mood for any. I concluded, however, that there were just too many considerable clouds out there.
I watched some T.V. with my brother from 10:00 a.m. until maybe 12:40 p.m. One of the shows we caught was the season five finale of Game of Thrones in which character Jon Snow was assassinated by his own Night Watch confederates or 'brothers in arms'.
That was unquestionably unexpected, for we both assumed that the character was a major player and would be monumental in further showdowns between 'good and evil'.
We were glad to see character Stannis Baratheon meet his finish ─ his act of sacrificing his daughter to being burned alive in the previous episode solely to appease the gods and assure his ultimate victory in upcoming battles was beyond disgusting.
However, I was not at all happy that the defeat was accomplished due to his (and his army's) defeat by the Boltons ─ I despise the character Ramsay Bolton so damned much that the mere sight of the actor portraying him repels me.
Finally, I have to say that young Arya Stark's penchant for her almost psychotically-bloody slaying of guys on her personal hit list is becoming disturbing.
My brother was set for some bed rest when this show was done, for I had heard him earlier arranging via cellphone to hook up with his friend Greg at a pub to which I correctly anticipated that my brother would be busing. He only buses when he knows that he will be drinking excessively ─ Greg would be doing similarly from his Langley apartment.
I finished my first meal of the day after my brother had sought his bedroom; and then I returned to my own bed for a short nap. My brother was gone for the afternoon when I rose.
And yes, his van was indeed still here. He had bused.
What this betokens for me is that he will not be returning until into the latter evening, so I will be having myself another early bedtime ─ albeit not as early as last evening!
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