Early last evening, my youngest stepson revealed that the SanDisk Ultra microSDXC UHS-I card that was not being accepted by my Canon PowerShot SD880 IS camera needed to have the small "Adapter" card inserted into the larger card to make it functional ─ they were a unit.
I had no idea what the smaller "Adapter" card was for, and there certainly were no instructions on the package. Why in Blazes isn't the card already assembled?
But no matter ─ my camera would still not accept the card. The camera continued to read "memory card error".
My next step will be to see if formatting the card on my laptop will do the trick. If not, then I will likely just transfer all of the images from the full Verbatim SDHC card onto the SanDisk card. The Verbatim card is a mere eight gigabytes, whereas the SanDisk is 128 gigabytes.
I will look into all of this tomorrow ─ my wife has not had to work today, and is limiting my access to the laptop.
I also learned from my stepson that beginning in January, he will be primarily working from home. I have no idea what he will be doing, but his employer is even going to be giving him a special work desk ─ I understand that it is one of those affairs that a user stands at rather than sits down at.
I am definitely not looking forward to having him home every day all day. As well, he tried to get me to okay getting rid of the heavy wood desk he is currently using, but it is part of an old fashioned setup that has at least a couple of other sections that are being stored in another part of the house.
It was originally a very grand affair, and only loaned to me by a former co-worker back in 2002 or so who did not have anywhere that she and her husband could keep it ─ they only lived in a small apartment.
This former co-worker and I have not been in touch for over a dozen years. In fact, I have deliberately avoided any reestablishment of contact because my irresponsible stepsons have badly damaged the desk years back. For example, there was once a drawer above where a seated person's lap would be, but the brats destroyed the drawer and it has since long ago been discarded. I honestly do not know just what other damage has been inflicted on the drawer beyond abrasions on its surface, for I lost use of the desk once my youngest stepson entered into his teens and the boys began making a den area for themselves of the lower section of the house where the desk is.
That youngster is or will be 25 years old this month, I believe.
So I am ashamed about the state of the grand old desk, and loath to have my former co-worker seek its return.
And now the kid wants to get rid of the desk? Even if it was not far too heavy to try and have brought upstairs here to my bedroom where I keep this computer, I barely have room for the tiny fold-up cheap desk that I have to use. Essentially, I got banned to here once the brothers took over 'their' den area.
We will not be getting rid of that fine old desk ─ not as long as I still live in this house.
Also early last evening, I finished watching a movie that I had to forsake a night or two previous after about 18 minutes because it had become clear that the feature was not improving and my drunken brother was disgruntled over having to bear with it.
I sat and watched the remainder of the movie early last evening, as said ─ it was 2018's Jonathan.
What a waste of time that piece of crap was! I do not recommend it in the very least.
I never felt a shred of affinity for either of the two characters supposedly inhabiting the same body ─ the two dual personalities considered themselves to be brothers. One had use of the body from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. and was the personality who worked for a living ─ as an architect, I believe. The other personality had the body from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. and was a night owl.
Also supposedly, somehow this dual personality body only needed four hours of sleep a night ─ that was the only way to explain how the night owl could have much of an existence.
Yet peculiarly, the transition at 7 a.m. or 7 p.m. had always occurred while the body slept ─ who the hell sleeps like that? Each of us finds ourselves awake at any hour of the day or night at different times ─ there is never an hour when we have not been awake.
The movie was so bloody full of holes.
And as I said, I felt nothing for either personality ─ they were alien to me. That is, neither of them mattered one fig to me. And how can a movie sustain the viewer if the viewer doesn't give a damn about any of the characters?
Even the nebulous ending sucked. We are left not knowing just what was happening with the two personalities.
What a useless waste of 1½ hours.
Anecdotally, supporting actress Suki Waterhouse did not seem familiar to me, but I see now that she had the lead in an exciting movie I watched two or three years ago ─ 2016's The Bad Batch.
After my brother got home last evening beyond 10 p.m., we only had time to watch an episode each of two of the series we follow in common.
I cannot recall when it was that I got to bed, but at worst it could not have been later than 1:30 a.m. ─ yet, my wife was still not home.
We have separate bedrooms, so I never was aware of her arrival.
This morning my brother had to leave to pick up his girlfriend Bev at 10 a.m. to drive her to work, so I ventured through the foot-deep snow to engage some pull-ups and chin-ups in his absence. I first weighed myself dressed as I was going to be out in the shed, and registered at approximately 192 pounds.
I seem to be losing a little pull-up strength, only managing three repetitions in the first set, so I continued with eight further sets of two repetitions apiece.
He and I were to watch a documentary on YouTube that was not much under two hours in duration (1:50:50): Burzynski: Cancer Is Serious Business | A documentary by Eric Merola.
It can also be found at BitChute ─ present instances are here, here, and here.
My brother asked me at its conclusion what Stanislaw Burzynski's fate ─ and that of his "antineoplaston therapy" ─ were, but I could not say, since I did not know. But I see now that this documentary was merely part 1.
And so tomorrow I expect that we will likely watch the next sequence.
Also this morning we watched a 50-minute YouTube video report from earlier this year ─ it was largely sub-titled: Donbass: I'm Alive!
Mariupol survivors of Ukrainian attacks find shelter
“It’s the Azov battalion. They forced people out of their houses and into basements. Then tanks started shooting from here, from there,” a Mariupol resident shared her story with the film crew. Over 400,000 people in Mariupol had to go underground because they couldn’t leave the city. The film tracks stories of people who had to survive in Mariupol under Ukrainian shelling. Sheltering in cellars and watching Ukrainian tanks firing at residential buildings. They have all gone through hell and back. Now they’re happy to be alive and hope for a new beginning.
A Russian military officer drives across shelled Mariupol to distribute humanitarian aid. A volunteer from Texas, who came to Donbass eight years ago, as he refused to believe American propaganda, helps reunite families separated during the evacuation. A hieromonk who was taken hostage by Azov members and tortured miraculously survived and dedicated his life to studying the origins of nazism in Ukraine. A courageous OB-GYN who runs a maternity ward helped give birth to 25 women during the bombing.
Hundreds of people who got a chance to be evacuated lost connections with the rest of their families who stayed. With no cell service and internet connection, their only hope was to get a word through Russian soldiers who would find relatives and friends and relay their messages.
I know what I largely believe is happening over there ─ it is not what the newspapers and T.V. news claim.
My brother sought some bed rest following that video, and I did the same at 12:42 p.m. As of then, my wife had yet to emerge from her bedroom.
She was downstairs when I finished with my short nap, but she has not been at all communicative. That is up to her ─ she can exist in isolation, if that is her choosing.
However, tomorrow is this month's mortgage day, and I am going to have to hike the near mile to my financial institution's ATM to deposit enough cash to cover it.
As yet, my eldest stepson has not made a promised contribution, so I do not know precisely how much cash I need to deposit. Due to my wife's gambling habit, I do not want to deposit overmuch. However, I am not expecting that she will be going anywhere tonight, for she has to work a full day tomorrow at the Thai restaurant.
If I anticipate that my eldest stepson will be transferring $400 to the account, then I need only to deposit $500 in order to have covered the mortgage payment that ought to be getting debited tomorrow.
Had I not been issued half of my monthly pension today via direct deposit, I would have needed to deposit perhaps $1,500. Nonetheless, by using that advance for this month's mortgage, I am shorting myself on what I can apply to next month's mortgage.
If my wife would only stop gambling away her and my money, we might be comfortably able to meet our due bills.
Darkness has fallen as my early evening commences, so I may as well consider today's post completed and get it published. One never knows what may befall on these outings. I do not drive, so I have to walk.
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