My poor wife disappeared behind a closed bedroom door exceptionally early last evening. Although I could tell that a light was on, I am certain that she crashed ─ that is, that she fell into a deeply needed nap.
I wish things were better for us, and that she did not have to work.
But that is not a topic I want to embroil myself with in this post.
I had a movie in mind for my brother and I last evening, and so it was that by way of our Android TV Box and the apps that I have downloaded into it, we were to watch the 2003 movie Doc Martin and the Legend of the Cloutie.
It was fun, as usual. And although I was unfamiliar with the term, a somewhat magical "cloutie" is a real thing ─ see, for example, this August 7, 2019, article at WildHunt.org: Clouties and “Cloutie pollution”.
This is now the third and final movie that I felt my brother and I needed to watch before I start tuning in every episode of the T.V. series Doc Martin, beginning of course with the premier episode from back in September 2004.
Believe it or not, the final season of that series is to air later this very year! My brother and I will be watching the show for a long, long time because I doubt that we will even manage to take in one of the lengthy episodes per week.
But we'll see.
It was probably approaching 1:30 a.m. before I was into my bed last night.
I rose this morning to find that outside temperatures were a few degrees above freezing; and anon it essentially rained all the day through, so the only snow remaining is that where it had somehow gotten piled or mounded; and any compressed icy snow on surfaces such as driveways and sidewalks is by now likely entirely melted away.
Incidentally, I am listening to an online Christmas music station as I work on this post, but last evening was the first in which I did not turn on any Christmas lights. In fact, I brought in the array that had gloriously illuminated the archway to our front door, so the season for such lights is now done where we are concerned.
Nevertheless, if I lived remotely and had the means, I would have Christmas lights aglow after dark the year round.
My wife had to work a full day today at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time; she left us a little earlier than usual ─ at most, it was 10:25 a.m. Her targeted start time is 11 a.m., but she has a fairly long drive.
I had hoped to tune in a couple of videos for my brother and I over the latter morning, but we were only to have time for one ─ a nearly 2¼-hour video uploaded to Odysee by the Corona Investigative Committee on January 7: Dr. Mike Yeadon | Session 86: The Fog Is Lifting.
The video also included Viviane Fischer, Dr. Reiner Füellmich, Dr. Wolfgang Wodarg, and someone I believe was identified as Robin Monotti ─ an architect, as I remember.
I hope the optimism expressed in the video is valid, and the perpetrators of the monumental fraud that has gripped our planet for nearly two years will all be brought to permanent justice.
My brother and I might have had time for a second video, but he got an unexpected call before 11 a.m. from his girlfriend Bev. She had gotten an unscheduled call to come in to work, so she called him to come and pick her up and drive her.
She works part-time ─ presently, on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. And only for maybe six hours each of those days at most. My brother picks her up around 10 a.m. and drives her to work. She lives a little better than two miles from us, but her place of employment is only four blocks or so from where she lives. My brother drives her because she suffers from very poor health.
Had he not needed to run this errand, we likely could have squeezed in another video.
Around 3:30 p.m. this afternoon he left again, and would eventually be picking her up from work. His usual routine of late is to do some drinking with her at her home, and then he returns here in the evening.
We have no nearby pubs or bars that are not complicit is this foolish vaccine passport nonsense; and since he refuses to be inoculated with the toxin because he is too informed about it, he is unable to drink in any of the local establishments that he used to frequent.
Before I finish with this post, I want to link to the fifth oldest blog post of mine that was censored and unpublished by this platform last Summer. Since I do not wish to draw attention, I will merely say that the republished post can presently be found at my website My Retirement Dream: August 10, 2021 ║ Fraser Valley Freedom Rally.
Well, I feel as if I have rambled on enough for today, so I am going to close shop here and watch some T.V. ─ I might even boil myself a pot of steel-ground organic oats as the mainstay of my supper. The task requires maybe 20 minutes at a slow boil (with vigilant stirring) in order to achieve the fullest swelling and softening of the granular ground oats.
Bon appétit!
No comments:
Post a Comment