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Who am I?

I am an obscure great-great-grandson of Oscar Adolphe Barcelo & Eugenie Beaudry of MontrΓ©al.

And I am an equally obscure great-grandson of George Henry Leandre Barcelo & Sarah Anne Bird of Winnipeg (Manitoba) and Langdon (North Dakota).

Tuesday, 13 December 2022

The Christmas Note

I will NOT show blind compliance by wearing one of these ever again!

All day I had planned on hiking off after dark to the nearest Staples outlet well over a mile from here ─ in fact, I set upon this notion yesterday, planning it for today. However, neither of my stepsons are home (my wife is working at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time, and my brother is involved somewhere in his daily socializing). I am loath to leave the house unoccupied after dark ─ it is an invitation to burglary or vandalism.

I only wanted to buy a new specialized bulb for the motion activated light near our front door ─ it burned out a week or more ago, and as yet has not been replaced.

Speaking of lights, I dropped my stun gun flashlight Saturday evening when I was out, and I have since discovered that it no longer functions in any capacity. I suppose that its all-metal body must twist open somewhere, but I am unable to determine just where, There seem to be maybe three sections where such a sectioning is possible, but there is absolutely no yield anywhere no matter how much I attempt to twist. If it does twist open, I fear that the sole avenue of achieving the feat would be to have the flashlight held in a vise while clamping something like a pipe wrench onto it and giving that a go.

However, even if I was to access the contents of the device, I have no understanding of the inner workings of a rechargeable stun gun flashlight. Would I recognize anything amiss? I do not see how. 

Well, my eldest stepson has now come home. And damn it ─ I had just successfully talked myself out of this unpleasant outing in favour of having some red wine shortly while watching a Christmas movie. So I will work on this post awhile longer to see if I can resurrect my faded ardour for the hike (I do not drive).

I watched a most enjoyable Christmas movie early last evening ─ it had overtones of sadness almost throughout before its surprise joyous ending.

The movie was 2015's The Christmas Note.

Since Wikipedia effectively describes the plot, I shall not bother duplicating the effort. The main character (Gretchen) was played by actress Jamie-Lynn Sigler, whom I only now have learned once had the role of "Meadow" ─ daughter of Tony Soprano. I now realize that my brother and I somewhat recently watched her being featured in a Western released in 2017 and titled Justice.

It was absolutely unoriginal.

In The Christmas Note, she was very good and believable, and the young actor (Dylan Kingwell) with the role as her young son was extremely likeable.

However, I was particularly drawn to the initially aloof character of Melissa, played by beautiful actress Leah Gibson. I very much liked this impressive woman ─ the actress, I mean. She was physically larger than Jamie-Lynn, who seemed practically frail by comparison.

I can see that I have watched Leah's work in the past, but I cannot remember any of her roles. Fortunately, my brother and I are working our way through Batwoman ─ I do not think that we have much to go before we are done with season one, and apparently Leah has a recurring role in season two that I am now looking forward to. I just hate that she is probably going to be a ruthless killer.

Leah's eyes very much remind me of a young woman whom I became emotionally and physically addicted to back in the latter 1970s and earliest 1980s ─ only two other actresses have had that same reminder effect (namely, Perdita Weeks and Alicia Witt).

Thus my further attraction to Leah Gibson.

I liked The Christmas Note well enough to want to watch it again around Christmas, but this is not too likely to happen. My brother's girlfriend Bev will not be spending the couple of days with us that she usually does, so I am only going to have my Grinch-like brother for company, which is going to rule out schmaltzy Christmas movies.

oooooooooooooo

I decided to get ready and make that hike for the bulb after I wrote that last sentence above.

Unfortunately, that Staples outlet did not carry that specific type of bulb, so my recourse was to hike another eighth of a mile to Canadian Tire. There ─ provided that the bulb they had on offer is the proper type ─ I bought two, one of which will obviously be a backup.

However, it is too dark to try and replace the light now, so I reckon it must await the morrow.

The day had been overcast, and it was sprinkling rain during my outing ─ everything was wet.

I was back home without incident just ahead of 8 p.m., having had a round trip hike of perhaps 2½ miles.

This post needs to be brought to a close before my brother shows up from his daily socializing (i.e., beering), but I do want to mention the two videos we watched on T.V. this morning via our Android TV Box. 

I led us off with Christopher James Pritchard's (A Warrior Calls) Rumble upload of yesterday: This Evil Will Be Put Down.

Link for Karen Kingston article: https://karenkingston.substack.com/p/when-does-cherry-picking-data-become

Then I tuned in Laura-Lynn Tyler Thompson's upload from December 8: Trudeau Must go.

Maryann Gebauer will join us to talk about the state of Canadian affairs.
Rick Thomas and Maria Bose of the Canadian’s Peoples Assembly will talk about the ‘Trudeau Must Go’ rally they are holding on Saturday, December 10th in Vancouver.
Andrea Martins’ daughter was suggested for an exploratory surgical procedure that the mother did not want done. Now, the hospital has called child protective services on the mother.
Show Resources: https://bit.ly/3h9Jxel

Laura-Lynn has to quit streaming live ─ the sound is so often wretchedly and even incomprehensibly garbled. Who honestly sits and watches her videos through their entirety when they are live anyway? I think that the only people who tune in are those idiots who need to see themselves in the chat stream.

Okay ─ I'm, done. I hope that my wife comes home directly after she finishes work later this evening, and does not get pressured by her partying friends to risk her well-being by carrying on with them after-hours.

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