I absolutely hate it when my eldest stepson has a day shift where he works. He seems to be getting up in the morning ahead of 5 a.m., so I have to quickly return to bed before he becomes aware that I am up, or else I will have to remain up until he leaves for work because he will be unlikely to lock the front door otherwise.
Having to be back in bed before 5 a.m. cuts down on my productivity ─ and although I could use the extra hour of work here at my computer as I perforce wait for him to leave for work, I hate to have no choice in the matter. Thus, I hasten to get back to bed once I realize he has risen.
It has now been four days since Stanley H. sent me the 180-page .pdf "book" featuring my genealogy in which he stated in bold letters in the Forward that I was "an aboriginal person of Canada" according to Section 35 of the Constitution Act of 1982.
Along with my praise for his very hard work that was for gratis and entirely of his own volition, I queried him about why he was so confident about making that claim on my behalf; and was there anything that I needed to do to have official recognition of it if indeed the statement is Constitutionally accurate?
I wold love to be given official recognition if his claim is true, for I badly want to have somewhere to escape to if the 'free world' ─ and Canada and North America specifically ─ falls to irrevocable tyranny, as seems to be the inclination of things.
However, as said, I have heard nothing from him in four days thus far.
My wife had to work a full day today at her friend's Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time, so she headed off on her drive around 10:45 a.m. this morning (she has an 11 a.m. start on her full days).
My younger brother and I were watching some videos via our Android TV Box that only I have the skill to operate.
I led off our viewing with a video that was a few minutes over an hour in length and titled Vilifying the Unvaxxed and Other COVID Deceptions.
Uploaded earlier this month on Friday, August 13th, it featured hostess (and journalist) Kristina Borjesson of The Whistleblower Newsroom separately interviewing Dr. Peter McCullough and Dr. Meryl Nass.
I was a little unhappy with Dr. Peter McCullough because it was not until near the end of his segment that he actually began to speak of the COVID 'vaccines' being dangerous. Until then, he merely indicated that they were not very effective.
Perhaps he has fears of being blacklisted.
Dr. Meryl Nass clearly has no such fears ─ she forged deeply into that terrain, and even correctly opined that there was motive behind all of this that was beyond profit alone.
On something of a related note, an habitual letter-writer to the Surrey Now-Leader, in the latest (August 19) edition wrote a pathetic short letter calling for medical apartheid for those who refuse 'vaccinations'.
I am inclined to write a refutation of his claims, including that the 'vaccinations' are based upon "expert scientific advice". I will just have to find the time, which is not very likely in sacrificial terms. After all, where he stands, I know it would be a waste of my time.
Anyway, I followed that video with one I had downloaded a few weeks ago that was originally uploaded to BitChute back on June 29 and featured Dr. Joseph Mercola playing the host: The Fight to End Water Fluoridation- Interview with Paul Connett.
The video was not quite 45 minutes in duration. I was quite informed with the subject matter already, but my brother has no online access to such material due to his inability to use a computer, and so the video was for his benefit.
Thereafter, since my brother was keen on some bed rest ere leaving for the afternoon to end up resuming his daily drinking somewhere, all we were to watch was an episode of The Conners ─ the premiere episode of season three in which all of the trappings of the advent of the ludicrous COVID-19 scare had been adopted.
Fortunately it does not appear that the Conners are in full gullible lockstep with those trappings, for much was done to make light of an satirize the restrictions. Had it been written in that everyone was a devoted convert to the mandates of the unfounded scare, I might very well have ended our association with the series.
Immediately after my brother sought his bed rest, the house phone began ringing, and a message was left ─ perhaps from our young cousin Wendy H.
Her stepfather Earl P. died early last Sunday, and my brother and I have known the sweet guy since at least as far back as 1974. We only know of his death as a result of some Facebook posts that I noticed, so I expect that Wendy has phoned to invite us to a memorial service for him.
She merely asked one of us to phone Wendy ─ which was odd, since she referred to herself by name as if she was someone else. So perhaps it was some other female relative who had placed the call.
I left the message for my brother to deal with. I then sought my own nap, and I found that after I rose and found him gone, the message had not been played.
Perhaps he will notice it this evening when he comes home. When he is drunk, he becomes quite sociable for things like this, so I have scant doubt that he will place that requested call should he notice the message then.
For myself, I have too much to do each day as it stands, and thus I do not like becoming locked into telephone calls that will be of an unknown duration.
Besides, I do not drive, and my brother would have to get us to any memorial service; and Earl and the others are primarily out in the Chilliwack area far removed from my brother and I here in Surrey. Since only he can address the logistics and make a commitment of attendance, the returned call is best made by him ─ drunk or not.
Wendy has my E-mail address. If she gets impatient, she can easily enough write to me, I would think.
It has been a solidly overcast day, so sunning has not been a possibility even had I felt like putting in the time. We have even seen a few attempts to rain ─ very light affairs that barely manage to wet the ground. However, a check just now of Google claims that we are not due any chance of actual rain until Sunday.
It is already just after 6 p.m., so I am going to stop here and get this post published. I want to lie down and rest my eyes briefly before watching a little T.V.
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