A Second Nuremberg Tribunal in the Works?

Despite not working last night on the post I am developing at one of my two hosted websites, it was still a little after 4 a.m. by the time I got back to bed for a little less than another two hours there, for I had set my cellphone's alarm to 6 a.m.

I wanted to hike the 1¼ to 1½ miles to the nearest Save-On-Foods outlet (Google Map) which opens at 7 a.m., although I wasn't interested in arriving there too early because often there is no cashier on duty ─ the very few earliest patrons are expected to use the self-serve stations, and I absolutely hate those things. 

In truth, I barely made it away from here ahead of 7 a.m. on the walk in a very fine spray of rain that had probably been in effect since the very start of my four-mile round-trip hike last evening to the nearest government liquor store. 

I don't drive, so I have to walk. And because of how much I hate being out in the public, I don't even try to go anywhere during the busy workweek ─ I have to do these expeditions on the weekends.

Although I was to be walking home a fair weight in both of the packs / carrying bags that I had brought along, more than half of the cost of my total bill proved to be quercetin supplements ─ specifically, the brand AOR (Advanced Orthomolecular Research).

AOR's website lists the one-time cost of the product (as opposed to signing up for a recurring subscription) to be $56.81, but Save-On-Foods had a sale on it for $52.19. Otherwise, Save-On-Foods charges $57.99.

I can't afford supplements that costly, but I bought this stuff just to keep on hand in case someone in the household ever comes down with a serious flu. You see, quercetin is an ionophore ─ that is, it has the ability to directly transport zinc into our cells where the zinc can bring to a standstill the replication of the infectious virus, breaking its hold.

Zinc's ability to cross through cell membranes involves complex processes, but quercetin ─ just as does the harder to obtain hydroxychloroquine ─ is actually able to easily deliver the zinc right into the cell.

You can learn more about this in a February 25 (2021) article at Mercola.com: NY Doctor Proved Everyone Wrong About Hydroxychloroquine. Quercetin's effectiveness is greatly enhanced when vitamin C is also taken at the same time, as the article mentions.

So my plan is to keep quercetin on hand ─ along with zinc supplements ─ to take only when someone is coming into the grip of a viral infection. As I said, I cannot afford to be taking quercetin daily for prophylactic reasons. My monthly pension cannot handle any such expenditure on a regular basis. 

That is rather unfortunate, though, for quercetin has other benefits ─ for instance, note this other Mercola.com article published on February 25 (2021): Quercetin Found to Stimulate New Brain Cells.

No doubt at my age of 71, I could use some assist in that area too, but I will just have to make do with other measures, saving my bottle of 100 quercetin tablets or capsules (500mgs of quercetin each) for viral emergency use only.

I imagine that I would probably take ─ twice a day ─ a capsule of quercetin and 1000-mgs of vitamin C, along with whatever zinc supplementation I happened to have. At present, I have 50-mg tablets of zinc citrate.

Besides those, I happen to have a plug-in nebulizer ─ two of them, actually ─ and regulation commercial 3% hydrogen peroxide that I would freely use at present full strength for the duration of however long it took to break the hold of the virus.

As I believe the first article stated, it is prudent to have these various items on hand ahead of time, than to try and acquire them after an infection strikes. In other words, better safe than sorry.

So I took the plunge and bought the quercetin ─ mine has an expiry date of May 2023. As a result, I likely won't be faced with renewing the supply for a long time.

Anyway, that's why I bought the stuff despite the cost. I bought the nebulizers early last year through AliExpress.com, and I've used one of them numerous times with full-strength commercial (3%) hydrogen peroxide.

Once I was back home from that shopping expedition, it didn't take too very long before I had declined sufficiently that a good nap was in order. At that point my brother was moving about in his bedroom, so his morning was set to start.

When I roused from my nap and checked the time, it was just something like 10:52 a.m., and I was keen on giving my brother the opportunity to have me put our Android TV Box into action and watch some of the downloaded videos I have on a USB flash drive.

Towards that end, I went downstairs to boil water for a black instant coffee. However, he had been watching The Nature of Things, and then tuned in and started watching an episode of Nova ─ just as he has done the past few Sundays.

Well, if that's what he wants to limit himself with, I'm not going to make a fuss. I came back upstairs with my black coffee and drank it here at my computer.

Incidentally, this morning I weighed myself on our mechanical scale: I ranged between maybe 178 and 179 pounds at very worst. Exactly 40 years ago, I wrote that I weighed something like 185 in the morning, and then 183 in the afternoon. It was a Saturday, and I had been fasting since sunset the day before. In the present, I intermittently fast. 

My last meal yesterday was late ─ I ate after 9 p.m. following my hike to the government liquor store. But apart from numerous supplements, all I ate were two boiled eggs, a sliced chunk of extra old cheddar cheese, and an entire rather large organic orange.

And that was only my second meal of the day.

Today, I took in no calories until after a mid-afternoon nap. I had myself a hot mug of my delicious and sustaining special caffeinated beverage. I needed the boost by then to give me the push to handle the day's scheduled exercising session out in the backyard toolshed.

Once I had exercised and come into the house,, it was already after 5 p.m., and that was when I had my first actual meal of the day. But all it comprised were a big portion of a leftover lentil dish my wife had prepared on Thursday, and numerous nutritional supplements.

I will have my last and second meal between 7 - 8 p.m. 

However, I want to finish this post so that I can watch some T.V. via our Android TV Box, and enjoy a can of strong beer and maybe some of the Malbec wine I bought last evening. I want to get into this before my brother returns from wherever he went this afternoon to do his daily drinking.

Before I sign off, though, I want to continue with another comment that I received to a Facebook post that I described in yesterday's blog post ─ the Facebook post concerned over a year's worth of "Covid Statistics" relating to my province of B.C.

As I covered yesterday in my blog post, I had to rebut one negative comment. Well, since that time, my cousin Tim H. added this favourable comment:

Glad someone is paying attention it is hard to hibernate and not think that the world is slowing down stay safe

I responded:  

Let's hope this world class action lawsuit blows the whole farce wide open and we can start bringing the people perpetuating it to justice!

https://newagora.ca/lawyers-promise-nuremberg-trials-against-all-behind-covid-scam/

https://greatreject.org/second-nuremberg-tribunal/

I want everyone involved in this atrocious farce to be utterly crushed ─ all of them have blood on their hands.

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The Great Reset, COVID-19 Deaths in B.C., and Much More

Last evening's bedtime ─ or naptime, for that is all it was to be ─ was possibly around 9:10 p.m., unless I am confusing that evening with the one before it. Nevertheless, it was past 9 p.m., for I had just become embroiled in researching to help out Grant H., a first cousin of mine once removed (i.e., he is the son of my full cousin Wendy D. née H.).

I had seen that Grant had reposted an image in his Facebook account that someone else had posted, and he was being somewhat beleaguered for a comment he had made to go along with the image.

The image was a ticket for a fine somebody had received who was apparently a business owner, and who had been found (by police) to not be wearing a face mask ─ this might well have occurred here in British Columbia.

Grant had commented his advice to just burn the thing, for it was illegal and could not be enforced.

A couple of face mask Karens or Kens then began their condemnation of Grant, who was sticking to his guns but could clearly not direct them to proof any more than they could prove him to be speaking falsely.

I was researching to see if I could actually find it lawfully stated somewhere that he was correct.

My search was brought to an end when I heard my younger brother come into the house after arriving home from wherever he had gone that afternoon to drink ─ I had to drop everything and seek seclusion in my bedroom to avoid involvement with my brother who would be hoping I could be coaxed into sitting up with him and operate our Android TV Box (he doesn't know how to operate it).

The best I had managed to do at that point was find that where customers were concerned, the obligation is upon them to be wearing a face mask, but it is not the responsibility of a business owner to deny them service if customers do not wear one ─ whether or not they claim to be medically mask-exempt. 

The customer can be fined by the police, but the business owner is not expected to be doing their policing. In fact, a business owner can be taken to court and fined up to $75,000 for refusing service even to someone who chose not to wear a face mask into the business owner's store. 

How many business owners are aware of that? Remember, this is here in B.C.

You see, as yet here in B.C., it is not 'illegal' to be out in the public without a face mask. And ─ this is something I did not realize ─ as soon as a business owner becomes licenced to operate, his or her place of business then officially becomes a public place. 

Thus, technically, a non-face-masked customer cannot legally be refused service, otherwise the customer is being discriminated against. However, the customer can be ticketed for not having on the 'mandated' face mask, but that has nothing to do with the business owner nor the business's staff.

The only time I wear a face mask is when I go into a mall or else a market to do something like shop. My reasoning has been that these places are all privately owned and thus private property; and so just as I would not force my way into the home of someone I knew (and was planning on visiting) if they were freaks about the need for face masks, likewise if I wanted to shop in someone's store, then I would comply with the store owner's wishes and not be a rude guest by defying that business owner and his wishes ─ however misdirected I might feel them to be.

If I did not want to visit a friend or relative who was insisting that I had to be wearing a face mask to come into his or her home, then I would simply refuse to visit and leave them ─ I certainly have no need to be hanging out with mask fanatics, even if they happened to be family members.

I give stores the same consideration. If I felt so strongly against wearing a face mask, then I would feel the obligation to not go into the store.

However, it a store truly does becomes a public place if it is lawfully licenced for business, then this becomes an entirely different scenario, doesn't it?

Notwithstanding, I still feel the compunction to respect the store owner's wishes. After all, my Thai wife had been a small-business owner years back of a Thai restaurant, so I feel considerable respect for business owners and their often formidable travails.

I never did resume my uninvited search on behalf of Grant, for I was not again able to locate his repost of that image.

After I had gotten to bed last evening, I did get to sleep. However, I was awake again by maybe 10:50 p.m. and in need of use of the bathroom.

I took care of that urgency without being noticed, but I just could not fall back into any sleep. And to my considerable misfortune, this was an evening in which my brother must have been hitting some of his 'hard stuff', for it was not to be until 12:38 a.m. that I at last heard him go into his bedroom and shut the door for the night.

Thus, I had to lie awake for over 1¾ hours waiting for my liberation and to then be able to come here to my computer and work on a few things. 

My youngest stepson was still up, but his older brother had gone snowboarding early in the afternoon. He was to return just after I had sat down here at my computer.

Anyway, I remained up involved in one task or another until maybe 5 a.m. before getting back to bed.

By about 8 a.m., I was again awake and unable to sleep further, so once I gave up trying, I then rose and came here to my computer which I keep in a small room next to my bedroom. My brother never emerged from his bedroom until nearly 10 a.m.

I had meant to join him at 10 a.m. to begin watching videos through our Android TV Box that I have downloaded into a USB flash drive, but because he always leads off his Saturday mornings with the Vancouver Sun that I subscribe to, 10 a.m. T.V.-watching was not to be happening this morning.

Around 11:45 a.m. I heard him turn on the T.V., so I did go downstairs then and offered to tune in the livestream interview that Odessa Orlwicz conducted last evening and posted to her Facebook account: Liberty Talk Canada interviews Laura-Lynn Tyler Thompson about THIS Monday's lawsuit downtown. 

The interview ran for just over 50 minutes, by which time my brother was set to return to his bedroom for some further rest before he left quite early into the afternoon. Eventually he would be resuming his drinking somewhere and not be home again until maybe mid-evening.

He had a nice enough day to be going out into. There was a fair amount of sunshine, and it was almost mild out there.

But returning to Odessa Orlewicz, I want to publicize a special series of interviews she and her husband Norbert are planning as described in this poster:

If you are even slightly curious, then please go to their Great Reset Summit page and either join Librti.com, or else sign up to be notified each time there is to be an interview.

I now want to reproduce a post that I made to my Facebook account that was inspired by this poster that I saw yesterday which Odessa published :

I made the following post to my Facebook account today:

I will probably have to quit Facebook after making this post, but here goes.

The attached chart from the Justice Centre for Constitutional Freedom has some interesting British Columbia statistics relating to COVID-19. The period covered is from January 15 of last year (2020) to February 13 of this year (2021) ─ basically, a period of 13 months, or well over a year.

Note in particular the “Deaths by Age” ─ more deaths (903) were in the over-80 age group than in all of the younger ages combined.

But not only that, the average age of those who died from COVID-19 who were over the age of 80 was 85 years ─ yet the average life expectancy here in B.C. is 82 years.

In other words, the average age of those elderly people over 80 who died from COVID-19 still managed to live three years beyond our expected provincial life expectancy!

Where is the epidemic of COVID-19 deaths?

But you don’t have to believe that chart about those relatively small death totals ─ after all the Justice Centre for Constitutional Freedom might be too ‘fringe’ for you. Just go to the reference source which is at the province’s BC Centre of Disease Control ─ page 8 of a 9-page .pdf document here:

http://www.bccdc.ca/Health-Info-Site/Documents/COVID_sitrep/Week_6_2021_BC_COVID-19_Situation_Report.pdf.

Now, to put this into even more perspective, the official BCMJ (BC Medical Journal) said in its January / February 2000 edition:

Because of its highly communicable and debilitating nature, influenza is the most dramatic infectious organism affecting elderly people. About 90% of the more than 1200 deaths each year in BC due to pneumonia and influenza involve persons 65 years of age and older; half of those occur during the four-month period from December to March.

https://bcmj.org/articles/influenza-and-institutional-outbreak-control—changing-standards-practice

So even a little over two decades ago, there were just about as many deaths each year from influenza as have been attributed in more than a year from COVID-19 here in the province of B.C.

Again ─ where is the epidemic of COVID-19 deaths?

Nothing different is going on here ─ just the unfounded scare tactics ─ that’s all that’s changed.

Stop buying into the deliberate hysteria.

Too many British Columbians are afflicted with what American psychiatrist Dr. Mark McDonald says is “mass delusional psychosis” ─ this unnatural fear over a disease that is no more threatening to people than the usual annual influenzas.

Far too many people are in a “chokehold of irrational fear”.

https://www.eviemagazine.com/post/americans-are-suffering-from-mass-delusional-psychosis-because-of-covid-19/

More people need to start thinking for themselves and quit buying into what the talking heads and the select or approved ‘health authorities’ on the newscasts are told to keep drilling into the public.

And now I must take a break. I am going to try and resurrect the resolve to make the four-mile round trip hike to the nearest government liquor store

oooooooooooooo

Well, I accomplished the feat.

I don't think I got on my way much before 7:30 p.m. at all, and I was back a minute or two past 9 p.m.

At outset, I could feel the vaguest occasional kiss of a misty raindrop fragment. These 'kisses' very slowly mounted in frequency, and it was apparent that some rain was in store. But it was still mild in the dark, and the precipitation of no concern as long as I got to the liquor store (Google Map) two miles away before anything serious began.

I basically did, for by the time I did reach the store, all pavement had progressed from being just damp to being actually wet, but my clothes were as yet unaffected.  

Naturally, I took along my trusty stun gun / flashlight.

I should have taken the time to research a backup bottle of wine, for the one I was after was out of stock. I had to improvise, so I bought a 1½-litre bottle of Jackson-Triggs Merlot that was not on sale. However, they did have the four-litre box of Copper Moon Malbec that was on sale and which was on my agenda.

All else I bought were a half dozen cans of the Pacific Western Brewing company's strong (8% alcohol) Cariboo Malt that I try to keep in stock. Gosh, I just noticed at the company website that they produce a vodka ginger ale as well as a rootbeer, but I can find no mention on the website of the latter beyond an image of it paired with the ginger ale.

Beer / malt is my drink, however. I'm not much into gimmicks, apart from being willing to try or sample them. Since I have to walk (I do not drive), it is unlikely that I will ever buy any if I do see these things in stock at the liquor store. An alcohol content of 5.7% isn't sufficiently tempting.

As usual at the liquor store, I had a very pleasant experience with some of the staff, who seemed to be middle-aged gals apart from a male security guard. The cheery gal at my checkout was very open and friendly; and while we were chatting, a very old little man (I am 71 years old, mind) came in and was just loitering in our vicinity looking absolutely bewildered and lost.

She concernedly asked of him if she could help him somehow.

Well, the frail old timer ─ who seemed like he ought to be in a hospital ─ claimed that he had been driving for the longest time, and wanted help with finding 104th Avenue. We were at 108th Avenue, so anyone else would have easily located it. She gave him directions, and he appeared to be profusely grateful, and gingerly made his way back outside.

She and I both agreed that someone like him should never be out there on his own driving a motor vehicle. He looked ready to drop dead.

It had occurred to me to let him know that I would be heading in that direction, but I was honestly leery of risking a ride with the fellow, for it seemed like it wold be a risky choice to be making.

My walk home was uneventful, and the rain nothing of concern.

There certainly do seem to be many homeless people out there sheltered in an occasional building doorway or even bedded down in bus shelters. If I had the largesse and was not reliant upon a monthly pension as I am, my almost natural inclination would be to offer financial assistance. 

Only my eldest stepson was home when I got back, but my brother showed up very soon behind me. However, I remained here upstairs and did not give him hope that I would watch T.V. with him ─ a prudent measure on my part, for I believe that he was in and out of consciousness once he had the T.V. on and was settled into his favourite chair.

I began declining from my outdoor challenge in very short order, and quickly realized that I would be unable to handle working on this blog post. So very shortly after 10 p.m. I was to bed to nap as best I could.

I was willing to sleep for as long as the state would remain with me, but when I was next awake and just lying there in bed almost tingling from the physical aftermath of my hike, I soon enough heard my brother getting set to go to his bedroom for the night.

So I checked the time and saw that it was at very most 11:45 p.m., yet I had been lying awake for a fair time. I think that I did make a check previous to that and it was something like 11:15 p.m.

I knew I had to get up to finish work on this post; and I also have to post a far briefer entry in my private blog. However, I just do not have it in me to put in any work on the post that I am constructing at one of my two hosted websites. 

By the way, I already had someone leave me an attacking comment at my Facebook account for that post I reproduce above. Here is the comment:

now imagine the numbers with no safety measures in place. If you want to pretend its the same as a cold, go volunteer at a hospital.

I responded back to the guy (Rob C.):

Who said anything about colds?

Influenza has been severe enough to kill people ─ especially the elderly ─ for decades. Nothing has changed. The death tally remains pretty much constant.

The "safety measures" haven't helped our elderly one whit. As for the rest of the healthy younger population, they were never in grave danger.  

I refuse to be involved in a heated exchange. If he comes back with more, I may just caution him not to grow hysterical or apoplectic ─ I know that he's not in the pink of well-being.

Before I quit this post (and I will be setting the clock back on its publication to have it appear that I am publishing it at 11:59 p.m. on February 27 instead of after 2 a.m. on Sunday, February 28 as the time is now), I want to link to a fabulously accurate and almost hilarious 2½-minute video that I saw linked to at a website called OurTube.co.uk, but I have just gone to it and it will not respond ─ everything I try gives me a "404 Not Found" error.

The video seems to be titled "Government" Message To All Sheep. Fortunately, I have located two sources at BitChute that I can link to here and here. 

The short video is sheer genius, and definitely applies to Canadians, even though it is targeting people in the U.K.

And that's it for me in this post.

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My Primrose Disaster

While watching an episode of The Last Kingdom quite early yesterday evening, I partook of two cans of the strong (8% alcohol) beer that I do my best to keep a supply of. Perhaps the beer helped contribute to an absence of urgency over seeking my latter evening nap, for I was not into bed (fully clothed) until 9:45 p.m., and as yet my younger brother had not shown up from wherever he had gone to drink that afternoon.

My wife had also not returned home after driving off in the mid-afternoon, but I had seen in a Facebook post that she was evidently sharing in the celebration of one of her friends' birthdays ─ or maybe the celebration was a further extension of my wife's Monday birthday?

I sure don't know.

Anyway, I was to achieve some sleep until around 11:30 p.m. or soon after when I became aware of my wife entering the bedroom ─ I wear a bandana blindfold. I remained still as if asleep, and waited ─ as usual, I was biding time until my brother sought his bedroom for the night so that I could rise and spend time here at my computer working on a couple of things.

It became clear to me that my wife seemed to be going through the process of readying herself for bed, and was making use of the bathroom a few times for tasks like a shower and whatever else she might do in there.

Then at last she did come to bed, never addressing me because she likely believed I was sleeping.

Anon I began to question whether or not my brother was still up, but I patiently waited until I finally checked the time on my cellphone and saw that it was well beyond midnight ─ possibly nearing 12:30 a.m. Carefully rising so as not be be disturbing to my wife, I quietly opened the bedroom door and saw that my brother's bedroom door was shut and there was no sign of a light within.

How much time had I wasted just lying inertly there in bed for no reason?  

Again, I sure don't know.

At least one of my two stepsons was still up, but it was not to be for too much longer and then all was in darkness downstairs.

I managed to get what work I wanted finished here at my computer; and then around 4:30 a.m. I returned to bed ─ again, fully clothed. The bedroom is very cool due to an open window, and with my wife sharing the bed, I only have use of one blanket. 

It always takes some time for me to fall asleep, but of course it did happen. And my wife was not restless ─ that always helps.

However, I was probably awake by 8 a.m. and no longer able to easily sleep. I called it quits around 8:30 a.m. and rose to begin my morning, coming here to my computer that is kept in a small room immediately adjacent to the bedroom. My brother had not yet risen, but he very soon did.

I followed my general weekday routine and did not join him downstairs until around 10 a.m. to begin watching some T.V. with him via our Android TV Box. This morning was to be somewhat different in that all we were to watch were two previously livestreamed videos by Odessa Orlewicz that she put out yesterday.

The first was approximately 42 minutes in length and titled Feb 25- Kyle Cardinal Holds MLA's Accountable & Tanya Gaw Shoves It To Global News With Facts ─ that is the link to the video at Odessa's Facebook account.

The second video was eight minutes over an hour in duration and titled Feb 25th Episode 2 - Tanya Gaw Puts Global News In Their Place With An Epic Response Letter ─ this time, the link is to the video's location at Librti.com. 

Even my brother found the second interview to be profoundly interesting and even intriguing. I have posted it to my own Facebook account, for I know churchgoers who ought to be heartened by the hopeful content being offered in the interview.

My brother called it quits where T.V. was concerned once we had watched that interview, and even though it was likely not quite 12:15 p.m., he headed on upstairs to his bedroom for some rest ere he left for the afternoon to eventually end up drinking somewhere.

My wife rose while he was ensconced within his bedroom, and soon left on some errand without a word to me. My brother reappeared and also left before she made her return. And then she immediately began lots of vacuuming of her car and some of the interior of the house. I took her vocal silence as my cue to repair to my brother's bedroom to have a nap on his bed.

When I later emerged from his bedroom, I found her to suddenly be quite talkative. 

Honestly, I have no idea what goes on with her.

Normally Fridays are her full workdays at the Thai restaurant that employs her part-time, but today she was not starting work until 4 p.m. Even so, she didn't leave here till as late as 3:38 p.m., so she might have arrived to work a little late.

She entrusted me with a pot of at least five different primroses (Primula acaulis) that she wanted set out in the sunlight ─ she had brought the plants home early this week, and they had been sitting here indoors, not even in any of the direct sunlight through the living room window.

Well, I got the brainstorm to place them upstairs on the sill of our open bedroom window. And then while I was working on this post, I heard what I correctly deduced was the whole pot falling from the sill onto the carpeted floor.

An infernal chilly breeze had managed to push the pot over the edge of the sill.

I discovered that each plant had been originally in its own small pot, for all five of them were still largely comprised of that distinctive clumping that comes of having been in a small container for a long while.

But danged if I could set them all neatly back into the large pot the way they had been. They look most disorderly, and one of the flowers had broken right off. I have no idea if there is other damage to the stems of any of the plants, nor if this shock is going to adversely affect the root systems.

As well, the plastic pot has several very long cracks that are going to pose a problem when it comes time for watering. Maybe I am going to have to hunt around and see if we have enough suitable individual pots for each of the plants. 

However, I will not have to 'face the music' about all of this until at least Sunday or even Monday, for my wife tends to spend her weekends elsewhere ─ such is our sorry marriage. 

As implied earlier, the day has had some sunshine. But when I was up in the weest a.m., there was a period of rather steady rain. And then before I had made my return to bed, I noticed a brilliant moon illuminating the night.

Since my wife will not be home tonight, I will be able to retire properly stripped down, for I will have full use of the bedding ─ she is quite the 'bedding hog'. Sometimes it is like I am living with a young girl!

I intend another early evening later ─ earlier than last evening, at any rate, for I feel somewhat underslept.

And since it is already well after 6:30 p.m. and working its way towards 7 p.m., I am going to conclude today's post here.

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"I'll Be Back!"

With my wife away last evening at 8 p.m., I was to bed later than usual because my younger brother had bused away in the early afternoon to commence his daily drinking, so I was not expecting him home until after 9 p.m. In fact, I never even finished and published yesterday's post here until 9:30 p.m.

However, I did not sit up too much later. I am confident that I was to bed by 9:50 p.m. at latest, and my brother had still not shown up.

Of course, I was not to bed for the night. I was merely logging what restorative latter evening napping I could manage in order to fortify me for my regular earliest a.m. hours working here at my computer when I have the best assurance of privacy and peace.

As for my wife, I had figured that she had gone off to party with friends ─ in particular, her employer at the Thai restaurant where my wife works part-time. Often, another female restaurant-owner from Vancouver joins them, and that evidently was so last evening.

It was 2:17 a.m. when I heard my wife unlocking the front door. And she was definitely comically intoxicated and rather loud, but at least she did not waste too much time in getting herself to bed. 

She had asked me to get her a glass of hot water, so I had gone downstairs to boil water for that; and when I brought it up to her where she lay in bed, she was talking on her cellphone ─ which she generally has on 'speaker' mode ─ and I heard a male non-Thai-accented voice saying something that included the words "your husband". This was when my wife hurriedly made an acknowledgement and terminated the call.  

I feigned to not have overheard anything and gave her the water, and then left, shutting her into the bedroom for the night.

As I always say concerning my wife's whole weekend absences, "Such is our sorry marriage."

Nonetheless, it did hurt me, as I keenly felt when I returned here to work at adding content into a new post at one of my two hosted websites. And I was pointedly wroth with God that He does absolutely nothing ─ despite years of my pleading ─ to help this 71-year-old who is too hopelessly buried in debt directly attributable to his hapless marriage to ever be free of that state, and able to do anything but sit here in his debtor's prison with his ruin all about his ears. 

I have no other recourse ─ lacking that financial miracle of liberation ─ than to sit beneath this roof and bide the slow trickling away of my life, for I can change nothing on my own. I cannot even meet the monthly mortgage without contributions from my wife's two adult sons ─ I am a hostage to all.

How can I stand as if I am somehow a strong and able man? Hell, I am every bit as much to blame for the failure of my marriage as my wife ─ maybe even more so. I am the member of the union who has failed to meet the conjugal duty owed by one partner to the other.

How am I a true man when I am so unspeakably impotent in so many ways? Why would I expect anything else from a wife over 23 years younger than I? Why should she sacrifice her 'needs' just because her husband is useless in bed?  

The truth is that as of sometime next month (March), it will have been a full eight years since we were physically intimate together. I of course can not speak for her, but I have been with no one else; and that is a long, long time to be starved for even the intimacy of being able to lie within the arms of someone else quite apart from any sexual activity.

Humans have a biological / psychological need for human touch and especially for extended physical contact.

This seems where God want me. Sitting here faced with my profound, glaring ineffectuality in absolutely everything related to being a man and a provider. I sit here retired, while my wife must keep working. Yet my pension is too inadequate for the situation that I retired into, and I knew it then. I just hoped that God would understand and be kindly towards me.

Even if just to save my marriage.

But no. He is grand at mandating the sanctity of the union, but it is not for Him to ever directly reach out His hand to someone like myself and work a genuine miracle that would yield me the means ─ and thus the tools ─ to save my marriage, and what is left of my life.

But this is not why I am blogging today. I have neither the time nor the inclination to continue on this theme.

I was back to bed this morning far nearer 5 a.m. than I like, for even then it takes me a long while to fall asleep.

And no later than 9 a.m. I was awake and checking the time, but too underslept to be able to rise for several minutes. My brother was downstairs watching T.V. and drinking coffee.

I remained upstairs here at my computer until nearly 10 a.m. before I went downstairs to boil water for an instant black coffee, and then I joined him. 

When he issued the invitation to put our Android TV Box to use, I led things off with three videos that I had previously downloaded into a USB flash drive, but the only one I will mention is The Sequel: The Fall of the Cabal part 3.

We have been slowly working or way through the full documentary series. We find it extremely interesting, but do so as 'outside' viewers ─ neither of us is a convert to Janet Ossebaard's contentions. We just happen to be thoroughly impressed by the depth and breadth of her research. 

After the three downloaded videos, I then tuned in an episode each of Supergirl and then Deadbeat. By the time they were done, my brother took his leave to seek some bed rest ere heading away for the afternoon to ultimately resume his drinking somewhere. However, he did not seem to remain in his bedroom long enough to have actually gotten a nap.

My wife never rose until after he had gone. While she was in the bathroom freshening up for her day, I had some quick exercises out in the backyard toolshed, and then came into the house to make a meal of some of the leftovers of her cooking from yesterday.

Then by around mid-afternoon, she took her leave, merely softly saying as she left that she would be back. 

Years ago when my youngest stepson (who is now 23) was still in late elementary school, he would say as he was leaving the house, "I'll be back!"

His older brother and even his mother eventually began using that famous Arnold Schwarzenegger phrase as if it actually meant that they were going to be out for a while, whether short or somewhat long ─ as if absolutely everybody was commonly privy to the expression as simply meaning that.

I find it to be rather cute the way they have invented their own use of that phrase and do not even seem aware that this is so. 

You or I would just say, "I'm going out for a while." I am sure that this is what my wife and her two sons believe their use of the movie phrase intends. 

At present it is nearly 6:30 p.m., and she is still away. Right after she left, I took the opportunity to catch a nap, and then I was soon at work on this post. No one was home, but my youngest stepson has shown up around 6 p.m. or immediately thereafter.

I think that I would like to have a beer or maybe even two and catch an episode of one of the T.V. series I follow exclusive to any I watch in common with my brother. And since I have some exercising I would still like to tackle, I am going to call it quits on the blogging for today.

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A Most Subdued Birthday Celebration

I was most annoyed last evening to have freshly opened a can of the strong (8% alcohol) beer that I keep on hand to sometimes enjoy if I am watching some evening fare on T.V. via our Android TV Box, when ─ not four minutes into the episode of Good Girls that I had tuned in ─ I saw my younger brother arriving home from wherever he had been drinking.

In a huge haste to avoid becoming involved with him, I began shutting everything down and putting the stereo back on, and then I successfully made it upstairs before he had yet come in the front door. It was only around 7:15 p.m., so there was no sense in me trying to undertake my latter evening napping period extra early.

It occurred to me that the beer mightn't be wasted if I could find the episode online here at my computer, so turning my back on Google which tends to ignore such websites, I successfully located the episode after several tries through searching with the Yandex search engine. It's Russian-based, so it doesn't give a fig about Google's censorship nor the scheming wealthy people who are in back of the U.S. search giant that the West has made so successful.

And so I got to watch the episode after all ─ it played flawlessly.

Then not too very long after it had finished ─ it was around 8:15 p.m. ─ my wife showed up after being away since Friday morning when she left here around 10:30 to go to the Thai restaurant where she works part-time. She typically stays elsewhere over the weekends (such is our sorry marriage), but she usually returns before this long.

Anyway, Monday had been her birthday, and I had a bottle of wine and a birthday card on hand for her. When she found those, she approached me for a good shared hug.

And she has been home ─ apart from some errands she left early this afternoon to take care of ─ ever since. However, when she did return from those (after I had eaten my day's first meal), she announced that her two sons apparently wanted to take her out for sushi late this afternoon. A reservation had been made for 5:30 p.m., and she figured we ─ she wants me to go ─ all ought to leave around 5 p.m.

Well, it is presently 4:34 p.m. as I type these words, so I will have to break off from this post very smartly. I am not hungry, and I said as much; but she said that I could at least go and partake of some beer.

Sure, I could be steadfast over not going, but it is on behalf of her birthday, and it will also give me a chance to take some photos, so I am resigned to going along. But I had better begin readying....

oooooooooooooo

Our destination proved to be Maguro Japanese Restaurant (Google Map) in the Guildford area of Surrey. And as it happened, we were its only dine-in customers ─ the restaurant focuses on pick-up orders now due to the fake 'plague' the world is supposed to be getting ravaged by. In fact, the restaurant was not even serving beer, if you can believe it! They offered 'hot saki', but I don't like having my alcohol boiled away, so only a peculiar tea was drank.

And I had some of the food order ─ my eldest stepson, 26 years old, was growing too full to care to handle it all (he's a 'gym rat' who is trying to maintain a 200-lb bodyweight).

I took these two photos at 6:18 p.m. ─ the first is him, and the second is his younger brother, the 23-year-old:

I used my digital camera for those, then switched over to my iPhone 5 for these shots at 6:20 p.m. ─ my eldest stepson used my phone to take the three photos that I am featured in:

So it was hardly an exciting family birthday celebration. We could have stayed home and drank whatever we wanted here. The restaurant didn't even have background music.

Of the four of us, I was the only one who was not spending most of my time staring into the screen of my cellphone ─ and I'm the one who was reluctant to go! 

Wednesday is the day of the week when my younger brother catches a bus to rendezvous with a couple of drinking buddies at a pub, so he is never expected back home until sometime after 9 p.m. I don't know just when we diners returned home, but it may not have been any later than 7 p.m.

It was not too long before my wife announced wearily that she was going to have a nap. However, I soon enough noticed that the bedroom light was on; and then after about a half hour at very most, I could hear her talking on the phone.

The next I knew, she had emerged from the bedroom dressed to go out. And by about 8 p.m., she left, saying that she was going to the Thai restaurant where she works part-time. It is quite a drive; however, her employer is one of her closest friends, so I surmise that my wife is expected to have her birthday celebrated with the gang that will gather over there.

Will she be back home tonight? I don't know. She oftentimes does crash at her friend's home. It would be the sensible thing to do if they get into some serious partying.

Speaking of crashes, as we were returning home, we passed the scene of a very serious-looking traffic accident. 

It is nigh 9:30 p.m., so I must put this post to rest and take myself to bed before my brother shows up. I have my early a.m. hours of work here at my computer ahead of me immediately after midnight.  

By the way, I never had a taste of alcohol ─ not even back here at home!

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Reiner Fuellmich and the Davos Clique

My dear younger brother never sought his bedroom last night until at least 12:33 a.m., but at least I was able to accrue a fair amount of napping over the latter evening. 

I actually rose at 12:33 a.m. upon checking the time, mistakenly believing that he had already retired. It was only when I noticed suddenly that the hallway light had been turned on that I was placed in check and did not prematurely open my bedroom door ─ my bedroom light was off in all this time.

Only when he turned the light off and then shut himself up into his bedroom did I quietly exit my bedroom to soon get to work on several tasks, salient of which was the supply of some further content into the post I am developing at one of my two hosted websites.

I now forget just when it was that I finally returned to bed, but it may have been around 4:45 a.m. In all that while, I had been expecting my wife to show up, but she never did. She still hasn't. She has not been home since she left for work Friday morning around 10:30 a.m., but this is not too unusual.

Such is our sorry marriage.

No doubt she became carried away yesterday with various of her friends who would insist on celebrating her 48th birthday. So the birthday card and the bottle of wine I have for her are still awaiting her homecoming.

That is fine. I sleep a little better when I have the bedroom and the bed to myself, as a rule.

Alas, even without her here and adversely affecting my sleep, I still do quite poorly. I was awake at 8 a.m. and tried for most of an hour to find more sleep, but it was largely futile. And so I rose.

My brother must have been hitting the 'hard stuff' last night, for he never rose for his morning shower until maybe 9:30 a.m. And after he went downstairs around 9:45 a.m. to turn on the T.V. and have his first morning coffee, I waited until nearly 10 a.m. before I went downstairs to join him and soon have our Android TV Box in operation.

I wanted to lead off our viewing with a Dr. Joseph Mercola-hosted video interview: Fasting Hacks- Interview With Dave Asprey. I am quite interested in the topic of fasting, but my brother has never displayed any such inclination ─ and he tends not to like Dr. Mercola's interviews because they are long and often complex in specialist vocabulary.

Well, he immediately objected. And during the latter stages of the interview, he vacated the room several times to do other things, clearly not invested in the long interview (over an hour and 20 minutes).

Nevertheless, I do not plan to stop having us watch these interviews, but I do limit them to no more than one in a week at most. 

I followed the Dave Asprey interview with Odessa Orlewicz's latest livestream from yesterday: Feb 22-The greatest Nuremberg of all time is on its way. 

The video is also posted at Librti.com: Liberty Talk Canada Feb 22: Nuremberg 2.0- The Greatest Nuremberg of all time and MSM Is Going Hard On Us.

The video is only a half hour long, and was devoted to the reading key elements from the following article published February 21 at UKcolumn.org titled Reiner Fuellmich With Other German Lawyers Class Action.

I have a huge interest in this action, and have been hungering for an update, so I am pleased about her presentation of the piece.

What concerns me about the legal action is that ─ if indeed most of the countries of the world are involved in this deception, and the Davos clique are ultimately behind it ─ why would the judge(s) trying the case not also be invested in the deception and under the control of the so-called elite?

The same would apply to any trials within any specific country such as my own Canada ─ how can we know that our judges have not also been corrupted? This could all lead to absolutely nothing, and we are only left with insurrection or else to just surrender to our doom. 

Our dictators in power will not give up their autocracy and tyranny ─ it is too intoxicating.

My T.V. time with my brother was to end after we watched an episode of Arrow, and by then it was nearly 1 p.m. and he went back to his bedroom for some rest before heading away for the afternoon to ultimately resume his daily drinking.

Naturally, I will be again avoiding him later this evening by doing my best to nap away the latter half of the evening so that I will have the fortification to sit up deep into the a.m. working on things that I just do not have the privacy and time to get at during the day.

Before I sought my latter evening napping period yesterday, I had two cans of strong (8% alcohol) beer while enjoying an episode of The Last Kingdom.

It is already just after 7 p.m., so I think that I will bring this post to a close and catch an episode of something else, but I won't have more than one can of beer this time.

I want to lodge a weather complaint. Since yesterday, we have been experiencing an infernal very chilly breeze that is effectively permeating everywhere upstairs room in the house, and it is most uncomfortable. I am quite weary of this wretched state, and wish it to end.

However, I am resisting the closing of any of the windows up here ─ there is an open window in every upstairs room. It is stupidity from a health perspective to have a house that is shut up to the outdoor air ─ the circulation is vital, especially to those of us who hardly ever go anywhere.

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My Wife's Birthday

Last evening I was sufficiently tired that I was set to seek my latter evening nap before my younger brother was yet home from wherever it was that he had gone to do his drinking. However, I did not precede him by much. And it was soon after 9 p.m.

The routine was typical, although I cannot now recollect with any surety whatsoever just when it was that he finally did seek his bedroom for the night and freed me up to rise and come here to my computer to get some work done in full privacy.

If I claimed that it was during the midnight hour, I would be close enough to the actual mark. And I think that it was nigh 5 a.m. when I made my return to bed.

One of the impediments preventing me from doing anything but work at my computer is the excruciating regularity with which I made daily entries into my old journal 40 years ago. Each day into my private blog I post whatever journal entry I wrote that is relevant to this same date back then ─ i.e., 1981. But taking the time to do this is exhausting any chance I might have of getting outside for some therapeutic walking.

However, I dare not fail to make that private blog entry matching my 1981 journal entry, for I just do not have the time for it during the day.

And so each night after I have worked at other tasks such as adding content into whatever new post I am constructing at one of my two hosted websites, I eventually have to curtail that work in order to take the time to post into my private blog.

Unfortunately for me today, since the latter half of 1980 and on into 1981, I did not seem to skip writing an entry; for even when I may have not actually appear to have done so, I would double-up on the following day and force me in the present to create a private blog post to host the material that should have had its own special entry.

As a result, an hour spent creating a private blog post for each of those journal entries that were written 40 years ago keeps me in thrall to my computer with no hope of getting away on a walk of even a mile or so. 

Thus, it was once again around 5 a.m. before I had returned to bed. On weekdays, I join my brother around 10 a.m. to put our Android TV Box into action, and we watch various videos and T.V. episodes until approximately 1 p.m. when it becomes time for him to seek some bed rest before he heads off for the afternoon to ultimately resume his daily drinking.

I go nowhere during the day (I do not drive). I hate the damned busy, overcrowded world out there that is my imprisoning environment. There is naught but stress to be found outside during the daytime ─ I want none of it. And so my self-imposed virtual house arrest is perfected.  

After having spent three or so hours watching T.V. with my brother, my poor eyes become weary from overuse, and I am unable to do anything constructive such as work on a blog entry. Usually, I have to have one of my delicious rich, hot caffeinated beverages with which to break my intermittent fast and provide me the stimulus to tackle some exercising before I have my day's first meal.

Once I do that ─ eat a meal ─ I become even more incapacitated, and it is nearly invariable that I must seek a nap. I did that today at nearly 4:30 p.m., and even just spending an hour in bed pretty much exhausts my afternoon.

Where today's early morning was concerned, I actually rose just after 8 a.m. and dressed, but I was just too short on sleep to begin my morning. I used the bathroom, and then returned to bed fully clothed and covered over with a blanket. A little further sleep was to be achieved, and when next I checked the time it was around 9:45 a.m.

This has become my life's routine now that I am 71 years old. Yet if only I had not been so productive with my journal 40 years ago, I would at least have a spare hour or so in the wee a.m. to get out into the night and get some wholesome walking accomplished. 

Just one puny but vital extra hour to my day....

At present my evening of course is already underway. I noticed after my nap when I went downstairs to fix up my day's second hot caffeinated beverage, it seemed to have rained during my nap. Yet the earlier day had often been brightly sunny. 

Today is my (considerably younger) wife's 48th birthday, but at least I have a card for her, along with a bottle of wine. She will most likely be showing up at some point this evening, or else into the a.m. (she has not been home since she left around 10:30 a.m. this past Friday for her part-time job at a Thai restaurant ─ such is our sorry marriage). 

I expect that her two sons ─ both of whom are well into their 20s ─ will also have something arranged for their mother.

I wish my life was so much different, but this is it. I am a slave to my years and various infirmities and relentless debt. Only a financial miracle will see me delivered from this.

The physical and mental reserves still exist within me to overcome so much of the decay that I have fallen into, but I need that financial freedom I spoke of in order to effect the transformation. Otherwise, I shall remain incarcerated here in my heavily mortgaged home, wholly cut off from the natural world that is far beyond my reach ─ an environment that I have longed for all of my life since my earliest adolescence.

Nevertheless, happy birthday, my wife! At least I made it possible for you to have a life far from your limited and restricted existence in the Isaan region of Thailand; and your two young sons were able to also come here to later become Canadian citizens after five years, ultimately acquiring Canadian high school diplomas, jobs, driver's licences, friends (and even girlfriends betimes).

But at such a cost to me ─ in fact, probably my utter undoing.

And I think I have said enough for today.

Oh yes ─ all of us received our income tax forms for 2020 in today's mail.

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My Travails Keeping Myself Stocked in Heavy Cream for My Coffee

As projected at the finish of yesterday's post, that evening I had two cans of strong (8% alcohol) beer while I watched an episode of Frontier. I had thought that I might watch an episode of something else as well, but it took me too much time to locate a satisfactory source for the Frontier episode (the second-to-last in the series) with the 'apps' that I have downloaded into our Android TV Box.  

I never did have a supper, but that was by choice. I wasn't feeling particularly hungry after my late afternoon / early evening very rich hot caffeinated beverage that had followed my nap.

As it was to happen, I was upstairs here at my computer when I heard my younger brother come into the house after arriving home from wherever he had been drinking. I now forget just when that was, but it seems to me that it may have been nigh 9:50 p.m. Consequently, I was conveniently placed to just head off to bed for the remainder of the evening.

I am even more foggy on just when it was that I roused from some sleep to check the time, but it was likely sometime during the midnight hour. And so I rose to come here to my computer to get some work done.

One of those tasks was to finally add some content into a post that I set up about three days earlier at one of my two hosted websites. However, I never put as much work into the post last night as I had hoped, for I kept allowing myself to get sidetracked. 

One source of recurring sidetracking was the online radio station I had quietly playing: Megaton Cafe Radio. That station claims to feature "40 years of real music", and I do not doubt that they do

At any rate, when the online option to play the station is selected (as opposed to selecting one of the media players, none of which I have ever tried out), the station will identify the artist(s) and song title for the first hour, and then it stops providing that information. But during that hour, I consistently find myself referring to the station to see who it is that I might be hearing.

And then when someone I've never heard of catches my interest, I will use Google to look them up. For example, one songstress I had never heard of before was Bea Booze. Another singer I heard a song from whose name I was familiar with was Alys Robi (I think I may even have a CD of hers somewhere).

However, I got badly involved with research when I heard a woman with a strangely unique sultry sound singing a song that was only identified as being titled "Horizontal" and by artist Pat Flowers and his Rhythm.

Well, if you click that Wikipedia link, you will see that Pat Flowers is certainly a man. So who was actually singing? ─ it was not him!

Research revealed that the singer was someone known as Bunty Pendleton, and it was the only song she has ever been credited as having been recorded singing.

You can find various online sources of her voice singing that song ─ one source at YouTube is here.

What was to truly bog me down was when I found the following references to her when I performed an Internet Archive search. After starting to get too involved in those references, I finally had to force myself out and back to work on my website post.

I at least do believe that I found her former husband's obituary, but she was not mentioned ─ only his third and current wife at the time of his death in 1975: BOB SYLVESTER, 68, COLUMNIST, DEAD.

It had to be the same dude mentioned in this brief news bit in Variety, Wednesday, February 9, 1949:

Robert Sylvester, N. Y. News drama editor, currently vacationing in Havana, narrowly escaped being shot last Sunday (30) afternoon while sitting at a sidewalk cafe table with his wife, Bunty Pendleton. Several men who had been talking at an adjacent table suddenly drew revolvers and began shooting at each other, while the Sylvesters crouched behind chairs. There were no casualties or arrests.

But here I am again, getting deeply sidetracked ─ even by merely discussing the topic!

I had early morning grocery shopping plans, so I needed to get back to bed fro some rest if I was going to hike just over 2¾ miles in time to arrive at the nearest Real Canadian Superstore (Google Map) by its 7 a.m. opening. I would want to leave here at 6 a.m. if I wanted to walk leisurely and not have to hustle.

And so it was that shortly after 3:30 a.m. I was back in bed with my cellphone alarm set for 5:15 a.m. in order to have time for a black and unsweetened instant coffee. I wasn't feeling entirely optimistic about the trip, for I had declined considerably.

Well, fortunately, I did respond favourably to the time in bed. I was in fact pulled from a most peculiar dream by the cellphone alarm. The dream featured Jean Cooper, my younger brother's former girlfriend in the late 1970s and into the earliest 1980s.

What was peculiar about the dream was that for some reason, she was transformed into a monstrously 'fat' black spider. That is not to say that she as a black spider was of some exceptional size, although she might have been the size of a thumbnail. It was her body that was monstrously swollen, as if she was going to birth a gargantuan egg sack or whatever it is that her type of spider would have birthed.  

She could only crawl very slowly due to her unnatural girth, and she was doing so in the branches of a large shrub or small tree. The impulse suddenly came upon me to photograph her, so I set off to retrieve my digital camera or my cellphone that was nearby, and when I returned I at first was unable to locate where she had crawled in the foliage of the plant.

What was doubly odd about all of this was that I ─ the 'me' in the dream ─ did not seem to consider it particularly freaky that Jean was this spider. I just somehow accepted that it was her. I cannot remember that the dream included any earlier explanation for why she was this shiny black spider shaped somewhat like a black widow, but without any markings.

But back to my planned hike. 

It had been raining when I had earlier returned to bed ─ sufficiently hard that I was somewhat concerned. However, I felt that things could change in the time in which I would be in bed. I almost always find ways to delay myself, so it was 6:11 a.m. when I was all set to go, but still here upstairs.

Nevertheless, I did get away smartly after that. And it was raining. Certainly not as hard as earlier, but sufficiently that I wondered just how wet I might get. I was wearing an off-black denim jacket overtop a heavy sweatshirt and a lighter short-sleeved fleece top beneath that. It was actually quite mild, so there was no 'cold' to be troubled by.

And I had to hustle, having robbed myself of the opportunity for a leisurely pace. Yet I arrived at the store just before its door were opened, and had to stand at the back of a widely spaced lineup of maybe 10 people at most ─ some were couples.

I was to get my shopping done, including a token birthday card for my wife (her birthday is tomorrow). But I had to do without heavy cream ─ there was none. There wasn't even a litre of organic heavy cream, which would have cost considerably more. Instead, I had to settle for a litre of 18% butter fat cream. The heavy cream is at least 33% butter fat, and it's what I exclusively prefer for my delicious rich, hot caffeinated beverages.  

I had most of a litre at home that conceivably could have lasted me until next weekend, but I decided not to risk it and opted to buy a litre of the 18% butter fat cream, What was especially boggling to me was that this stuff actually costs over $4 a litre, whereas the creamier heavy cream ─ which I always buy two litres of in order to reduce the need for these long hikes ─ costs $3.59 a litre when two litres are bought.

So I felt doubly gypped, paying around 50¢ more for a litre of decidedly inferior cream. But it was to be even worse than that as I will explain anon.

When I left the store to begin my homeward trek, I found that the rain had essentially stopped. And even though the sky was largely overcast, it was unquestionably daylight. Over the latter Fall and then through the Winter to this point, I was blessed with the cover of night on these walks to the store, and having considerable gloom for most of the trip home.

That phase of the year has evidently ended.

I suppose that it was around 8:15 a.m. when I arrived home. No one was yet up, but my brother soon enough was. I remained up until 9:30 a.m. and then had declined to the point where I needed to return to bed, and I there remained until just after 11 a.m. at which time I rose and went downstairs for another black coffee. I take in no calories until after 12:30 p.m. in my observance of a daily intermittent fasting schedule.

I would have joined my brother at the T.V. and put our Android TV Box into operation, but he seemed to be content with some ridiculous programme ─ probably Nova ─ extolling the virtues of GMO foods. I felt insulted that he was entertaining the damned travesty.

So I left him to it and came back upstairs here to my computer.

I expect that he watched the show until its conclusion and then he came upstairs to his bedroom to seek some rest before his daily early afternoon departure to ultimately end up drinking somewhere.

I never did seek to have one of my delicious caffeinated beverages until well past 1 p.m. And this is where that third sense of being gypped came into effect.

Although my brother has little problem keeping himself supplied with beer, he had allowed his chosen coffee creamer ─ a feeble 10% butter fat swill that tastes to me like skim milk ─ run dry. My two stepsons also help themselves to that swill, while I try to keep my precious and much more expensive heavy cream out of notice inside the fridge door on the bottom-most rack.

Well, it seems that everyone had been using my precious heavy cream ─ it was about half gone. No one ever bloody buys the stuff, but I have to walk a 5.625-mile round trip hike just to keep myself supplied with it and then find that due to sheer laziness on the part of the others, I am faced with having what little I had become depleted.

My two stepsons don't even buy coffee cream ─ they just use what my brother buys. And now everyone is using my valuable heavy cream that I will be unable to replace until next weekend.

So I opened the 18% butter fat litre and left it where my brother usually keep his 10% butter fat swill. Maybe my heavy cream will be left alone.

What especially bums me in all of this is that all three of them ─ my brother and my two stepsons ─ are licenced drivers. I am the only member of the household who does not drive, so that is why I have to walk to do my shopping. And I am 71 years old. They can easily drive off to a store and buy cream, but that will not happen. My brother may buy some later today if he remembers, but my two stepsons will happily use up whatever they find in the fridge ─ they can't be bothered to help keep a supply available.

And now I am aggravating myself in the recounting this, so I must stop.

The rain never did return, but it became most chilly due to a strong breeze that is finding its way deep into the upstairs rooms where we have all of the windows open to one degree or another.

The time is now just barely after 4:30 p.m. Since I do not expect that there will be aught else worth writing about concerning my day (I am presently home alone), I am going to bring this post to a close so that I can turn my attention to other matters. Heck, I might even lie down again to help my very recent meal assimilate.

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