In my last post two days ago, I had written that my wife wanted me to accompany her to assist her with advance voting in our B.C. general election now in progress ─ she was to have yesterday off work, so she felt there would be lots of opportunity to get it done that day.
I had already voted early Sunday morning before she showed up from wherever it is that she tends to stay in Vancouver on her weekends.
Well, my wife went out Sunday evening. And although I got to bed relatively early that evening, and rose during the midnight hour or soon thereafter to perform some work here at my computer, she was still not back home by the time I returned to bed just ahead of 4 a.m. yesterday.
I had become extra tired, and had little inclination to rise until I surprised myself by checking the time at one point and seeing that it was almost 9:30 a.m. yesterday morning ─ this is an almost unheard of amount of bedtime for me.
To my additional surprise, my wife was in bed next to me. I had not heard her come home and to bed, nor did I recall being aware of her presence at any time during my sleep.
A third surprise was to rise and find that my younger brother was not downstairs watching T.V. ─ he was not home at all.
Despite how stiff my body was, and how foggy my wits, I decided to seize the opportunity and get out to the backyard toolshed for some token exercising. This chance rarely comes during the week when I have been up overnight.
My brother was to return by 10:30 a.m. at latest. He had only been out to pick up his girlfriend Bev and take here somewhere for further medical testing related to her extremely high blood pressure and occasional onsets of profound dizziness.
Anyway, with him home, we got a slightly later start than usual on our weekday latter-morning television viewing via the Android TV Box that I operate. I let him know that our older maternal half-sister had sent me an E-mail saying that she was coming over from her home in rural Langley to drop off what I hoped was the missing cord that would make a printer that she had left me in the Spring, finally be recognized by my laptop. Anytime I would insert the USB cable into my laptop, there was never the remotest recognition that anything was different.
Well, around 11 a.m. at latest my brother announced that he could see Phyllis pulling into our driveway. She got out of her car and came towards the front door, so we waited for her knock.
But instead of hearing one for us to respond to, we then saw her going back to her car. Did she forget something in it, perhaps?
Nope! She climbed into her car, shut the door, and smartly backed out and drove off.
We haven't seen her since the late Spring, so this was beyond peculiar.
As for the cord, we found that she had just hung it outside our front door on the letterbox. And it proved to be just another power cord. When she first brought me her printer, it came with its required power cord and ─ I later discovered ─ an extraneous power cord that she had included (for 'good measure' I suppose).
I've since let her know via E-mail that she wasted her trip. As for her mysterious conduct, she claims that she is self-conscious about some sort of treatments she is receiving for large freckles or 'liver spots' on her face. Apparently the treatments may involve burning off the spots?
Not two hours ago (it is 3:52 a.m. as I type these words), I E-mailed her some information I learned about several weeks ago that suggested that 'liver spots' may well be caused by excessive consumption of harmful vegetable oils.
It was quite a lengthy E-mail, but these were two key statements:
While omega-3s [i.e., animal fats] make your cell membranes healthier, omega-6 fats from vegetable oils wreak havoc with your cellular metabolism, and have a half-life of 600 to 680 days....
One simple way to tell whether you might have a lot of bad fats in your system is to look at your skin. The dark so-called “age spots” or “liver spots” many have are caused by lipofuscin. Those spots can eventually disappear if you clean up your diet.
But I am getting sidetracked, as usual.
My wife never rose until the early afternoon, and never did bring up the topic of voting. She did not look at all adequately rested, so I figured that where it was concerned for her, today was 'a wash'.
There is still advance voting in effect today, tomorrow, and Thursday; and the actual election is Saturday. She can yet vote if she truly wants to.
I am going to take a break from this post so I can get back to bed. I had retired around 9:20 p.m. last evening, and then rose around (I believe) 1:45 a.m. to get some work done here at my computer. My wife was still up ─ I would have thought that she would have been keen on getting to bed early after her poor previous night's sleep that actually involved the morning more than it did any actual night.
But I want to mention my disappointment after watching the third season finale on Sunday evening of the T.V. series GLOW.
It was a Christmas episode, and it did a good job of inspiring within me some actual atmospheric feeling for Christmas. But that isn't the main reason I am telling of the episode.
I have grown quite fond of the series over its three seasons, and some of the characters (women wrestlers) have become rather dear to me.
The episode ended as a cliffhanger of sorts, but there will never be a resolution ─ Netflix canned (cancelled) the series.
Enough for now ─ it's 5:18 a.m., and I need some sleep. As usual, I got sidetracked yet again (after writing about that GLOW season finale).
It is now 5:14 p.m., and my dear wife has been home all day. However, she has very little to say to me, so her presence is far more hindrance than help where work on my languishing website post is concerned ─ I am days from getting the darned thing published because it requires so very much ongoing research.
Because of that, I cannot begin anything with it unless I have considerable time to devote. And plainly put, I do not have any such time when my wife is home ─ even when she has nothing to say to me.
Today she has taken it upon herself to do some painting in the kitchen ─ even inside some lower cupboards. Then she progressed to the upstairs bathroom, and then got diverted by undertaking to somehow do some repair to the damaged shower wall where the insert is for a soap dish.
Between her and her two sons ─ who have been known to shower twice a day, and not that long ago the eldest even showered three times in a 24-hour period ─ the walls, although tiled, rarely get to dry off. The eldest lad will even draw the shower curtain right across after his shower, leaving the entire shower area shut off from air circulation.
I think that in his mind it is better to allow the shower curtain to freely drip dry and not allow it to clump together with its post-shower wet folds, than it is to allow the walls to dry.
No one ever wipes the walls off after a shower.
I am a bather ─ I do not shower. In the 18 years I have lived in this house, the only times I showered were for the first couple of weeks following open knee surgery on my left leg. Since I could hardly risk immersing the fresh six-inch incision stretching down from my lower thigh to below my knee in bath water, I could only rinse myself and not sink back into a full bath.
That was back in early November 2010.
I have steadfastly refused to spend my day wiping down the shower walls time and again after each person showers ─ my wife can do that. She can wipe her sons' butts ─ it sure ain't my job.
So any wall damage can be something they are all responsible for. But why she feels it incumbent upon herself to take on that task when she has a 26-year-old son and a 22-year-old son who could be impressed into the chore ─ well, it's far beyond my understanding.
However, I am the one who has to bear the day with the miserable soul that she becomes. Where her sons are concerned, there "seldom is heard a discouraging word" ─ it is only I who exists to bear her emotional distemper.
For Pete's sake, she and her two sons are perfectly welcome to take baths instead of showers if they don't want to be bothered wiping down the walls afterwards, but that has never been in their realm of what is acceptable.
It must be nice to feel so deserving of pamperdom. I just refuse to play along ─ I will not serve them.
I wasn't even going to bring up the topic with her of advance voting, but I have just discovered that the final day to do so is tomorrow and not Thrusday, and I believe that she has to work that day. I guess I will have to broach the topic after all.
I might as well call it a day and conclude this post.
I think that I heard my wife claim today that she is now only working two days a week ─ is this how my weeks are to unfold in the near future, then? I'm to have the 'sweet thing' here all day long for three full days during each workweek?
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