Although it was coming to appear impossible that I would be going anywhere for a walk last evening due to not having rested up beforehand (apart from my early afternoon nap), I started recognizing how unappealing the idea was of having to get up at 2 a.m. for the walk if I did not instead discharge the duty in the evening.
And so around 8:30 p.m. I was here in my bedroom starting to dress up for the venture when I heard my younger brother come through the front door. When he has been drinking, his theatrical sighing can be heard throughout the house.
I had meant to leave anywhere between 9 - 9:30 p.m. ─ the later the better ─ so as best not to be back home too early, for one of the purposes of an evening walk like I was planning was to avoid having to watch any shows with my brother after returning.
However, here he was, and it was not even 9 p.m. ─ and I was practically trapped, for I need to get away without anyone being privy.
Then it dawned upon me that he almost always will come upstairs to his bedroom to change into comfort clothes. That would be my sole opportunity.
Yet I still had to put on boots and a decent jacket, for temperatures outside were at least as low as the freezing level.
I hate being forced to ready like this. Had I been able to do so leisurely, I was considering that I might even do some shopping while I was out, but now I would have no time to see to my grooming ─ I knew that my short beard was awry and some trimming likely needed. Yet even if I had a mirror, there was no time ─ I had to get a move on.
I think that I was slipping out the front door just as my brother was emerging from his bedroom and about to come downstairs.
The walk had just begun when it dawned upon me that I had forgotten my cellphone ─ cellphones have replaced wrist watches, so I had no idea on the time ─ nor would I ever throughout the entirety of my walk, and I hate that.
I resisted trying to hustle, for I was not wishing to be back home too much before 11 p.m., even though it was unavoidable that I would be home prior to that hour. It annoyed me that I did not know precisely what my departure time was ─ I had nothing to work with to gauge my absence.
Apart from often-blinding night traffic, the worst of evening walks is the threat of meeting up with someone walking a large dog. Not quite a mile from home I was barely able to avoid one idiot with his loose Dobermann.
Then about double that distance, I almost coincided with another guy who had two similarly large dogs ─ he was crossing 100th Avenue right where I was about to reach that same avenue while following along the dark Quibble Creek Greenway. As one looks at this Google Map, I was climbing up the Greenway, whereas this guy and his mutts were potentially coming from the Greenway on the opposite side of the highway.
I accessed 100th Avenue and turned right just as they were past the midway point of the highway, both dogs on a separate leash. Were they leashed merely to get them across the avenue, and then would have been loosed? Beats me! I am only relieved that my pace had not been any slower, else I would have learned the answer to that question.
I recall nothing else of note concerning the walk, which was approximately 5½-or-so miles.
My walk had ended and I was just at the front door when my youngest stepson was arriving home with his girlfriend Emily in her car ─ apparently she had taken him to have his ankle assessed, for he was concerned that he had broken it. My brother filled me in on the X-ray news ─ I did not wait to socialize, and instead came directly upstairs to my bedroom to change out of my walking attire.
It is possible that I was home as early as 10:15 p.m. Originally when I was planning the walk, I desired to be home no earlier than 11:15 p.m., and preferably closer to midnight.
And so it became necessary that I watch some T.V. with my brother. I also had a can of the strong (8% alcohol) malt that I keep myself stocked with.
He had on an old episode of the original T.V. series Charmed on regular T.V., for he has no idea how to operate our Android TV Box. We were to let that episode run to its conclusion before he invited me to tune in something via the Android TV Box, so I selected DC's Legends of Tomorrow ─ we have now watched season five in its entirety, for this was the episode "Swan Thong".
I am rather bummed that actress Maisie Richardson-Sellers (who plays the strongly English-accented shape-shifter "Charlie") left the series at the end of that episode ─ she was one of my three favourite actresses in the series.
Equally disappointing, I suppose, is only just now learning that she "identifies as queer" (quote from here). One of the reasons that she was one of my three favourite actresses was because of how beautiful she was to me ─ hot, in fact.
But I am not interested in getting into that topic. I only want to say that my brother watched hardly any of the episode, nor did he see much of the episode of W1A that I tuned in next. He was absolutely plastered from his drinking and constantly passing out.
He would revive, sometimes only to growl out a sentence or two of nonsense (his attempt to fool me into thinking he has been watching the show), and then be snoring again with not even 60 seconds of consciousness.
It was repellent and disgusting. I wish I could afford to get a high-quality video recorder that I could have set up and running that I could use to capture an hour or two of him when he is in this state. It is useless to try to explain what he is like ─ he needs to see an instance of it played out on T.V. in its entirety.
He is 70 years old, and so often drinks himself into senile oblivion. This sort of thing needs to be captured on video for his fullest appreciation ─ I cannot imagine anything else to be of effect. Otherwise, he just attributes criticism of his behaviour as nothing more than exaggerated sour grapes.
Well, I hope he was suffering this morning.
As well, we arose to find that it was snowing, and it continued throughout the morning. Even so, we probably never accumulated a full inch, and already the cover on lawns is thinning out as it slowly melts, for we are a little above freezing now. It is possible that the snow falling became a light rain.
My brother had to leave and pick up his girlfriend Bev at 10 a.m. to drive her to work, so I took that opportunity for some exercising out in the backyard tool shed, first weighing myself as fully dressed as I was to be out there: approximately 194 pounds.
Yesterday I reported that I managed to add a repetition to the third set of six pull-ups and chin-ups that I normally engage as the main part of that exercising: that is, 4 - 3 - 3 - 2 - 2 - 2.
As I dreaded, that achievement has now become my stubborn target, so I struggled and just managed to match it this morning.
This sort of thing makes exercising become a punishment instead of something enjoyable and fulfilling. Yet it is so much a part of my nature that I can not leave well enough alone and be happy with an occasional breaking out of what might be a norm ─ rather, I push myself to make that breakout the new bloody norm.
I am 73 years old ─ this sort of practice can become excruciating, and maybe even dangerous. Who knows what unknown aneurysms may exist in this ageing body that are just waiting for the right amount of blood pressure to burst open and result in a heart attack or stroke, for instance?
But it is so very difficult at my age to make exercise gains that simply maintaining a performance level is not inspiring ─ I crave to improve, even though it may be hazardous.
If ever something 'blows', I hope that it is immediately fatal and that I am not left vegetative or otherwise physically impaired for what remains of my life.
Okay, videos that my brother and I were to watch this morning included a couple uploaded or posted to the Rumble channel of A Warrior Calls.
The first was an interview that was approximately a half hour in duration: Chief Muskwa Wahyaw Kayitapit, A Warrior For The People.
The video name-tagged the chief as being Howard Jackson.
I found the man to be very likeable and honourable, but apart from remembering that he resided in Alberta, I have no idea which tribal group he headed. I am going to try to remember to run through the interview at some point to try and pick up clues.
The second video was around 1¼ hours long: Truth Drags Evil Into The Light. As usual when Christopher James has no guests, he covered far too much for me to try and describe.
We completed our morning T.V. viewing with an episode of the American T.V. series Ghosts (episode "Ghostwriter").
My brother of course thereafter sought some bed rest before leaving for the day to socialize. I hope not to have him return home this evening in anything like a state similar to what he displayed yesterday evening.
He left while I was having my early afternoon nap ─ quite a deep one.
I was considering getting out early this evening to do some pharmacy shopping locally, but I believe that I will save that for Thursday. I am instead going to try and sneak in a movie before my brother arrives home later this evening.
