Once my younger brother was home last evening following his daily socializing, our evening's television entertainment was to include the 2016 movie Dead Rising: Endgame.
We has seen the prequel Dead Rising: Watchtower maybe a month or so ago.
I am impressed by how athletic lead actor Jesse Metcalfe appears to be. I wouldn't stand the remotest hope of outrunning even a little girl!
It is always good to see actress Marie Avgeropoulos, and I was even more pleased when actress Keegan Connor Tracy ─ who was strongly featured in the prequel ─ made her appearance late into this film.
I doubt that actor Ian Tracey has played a good guy in more than a handful of roles. It was looking as if this would be one of those rare times, but ... not so.
The movie was not outstanding, but nevertheless it was loaded with action and, I suppose, thrills.
I am pleased to report that my wife came sensibly home into the latter evening, and obviously did not remain with any of her Thai restaurant co-workers to do any partying after they finished work for the evening.
After my brother and I finished watching T.V. for the night, I confirmed from her that she had left me $400 the previous night, sliding it beneath my bedroom door (we have separate bedrooms). I had foolishly assembled the money with other cash I had before properly counting it, and wondered if maybe there had only been $300.
I alerted her about my concern that the life insurance company (London Life) usually takes their nearly monthly $210 payment from my chequing account on the 3rd of each month, but I was unsure if this held true for a weekend. My account lacked any such amount, so I had been contemplating heading off for nearly a mile to the concerned financial institution's ATM to make a deposit with at least $200 of the money. (I do not drive, so I would need to walk.)
She was responsible for the state of the account, so she knew that it only had something over $53 in it; but she was almost certain that London Life does not take their monthly payments on weekends, and would wait until Monday.
Further, she promised that she would make the deposit today herself, for she had to work at the restaurant today from 4 or 4:30 p.m. ─ whatever time it is that the restaurant reopens after a mid-afternoon closure of 1 - 1½ hours.
As I write this at approximately 4:30 p.m. (my wife left for work around 3:15 p.m.), I have checked and seen that she did make the deposit ─ but only into her account. I can easily enough transfer it over to mine, but I will await word from her.
The weather remains cold, although it is possible that we may have climbed just above the freezing point today. People seem to be having success shovelling the heretofore frozen snow, judging by sounds that have carried through my open bedroom window this afternoon.
This morning my brother and I gave up on three videos that I had tuned in on T.V. via our Android TV Box ─ I would likely have watched them, but they were less than arresting, so I did not contest his demurring.
We finally did settle upon the recent documentary Died Suddenly, which was a little over an hour in length ─ maybe by just over eight minutes. The 'mainstream' ─ as amply evidenced by Google ─ holds nothing but disparagement for the film, so for that reason I highly recommend it! A couple of sources for it are at BitChute here and here.
Rumble also carries it ─ two sources are here and here.
As usual, my brother left before mid-afternoon to engage his daily socializing ─ no doubt at the pub where his girlfriend Bev had to work today. He in fact had left and picked her up at 10 a.m. this morning to drive her the four or so blocks to her place of employment.
When he left this afternoon, I was abed seeking a short nap, but I heard him in brief conversational exchange with my wife ere he departed.
I am feeling somewhat blue as I sit here alone at my computer ─ a little lonely. One or both of my stepsons are home, but we do not fraternize ─ they might as well be away somewhere. Part of what has me down was creating a post in my private blog ─ the post required me to type out an old journal entry that I made on this date back in 1981 exactly 41 years ago when I was 32 years old. I recorded an account of what turned out to be a most emotional experience at a time in my life when I believed that I had no future.
I do not even remember the precise day and the event I wrote of, but it has affected me nonetheless.
So often I wonder how it is that I still live after all of these years?
A Christmas movie is needful, methinks ─ and a couple of strong (8% alcohol) malts.
No comments:
Post a Comment