The precise time of my retirement last evening now eludes me, but I believe it to have preceded 10:30 p.m. I had been watching MMA bouts on T.V., and the witnessing of my younger brother's arrival home sent me scurrying upstairs to avoid becoming entangled with him ─ I had plans to rise at 4 a.m.
The point in the night arrived whereby I felt myself to be suspiciously awake, so I checked the time and found it to be something like 3:29 a.m. However, I also discovered that the electrical power seemed to be down.
So I just lay abed until either the power came back on, or else my cellphone alarm sounded.
It was the latter that materialized, unfortunately. I had plans to leave home ahead of 6 a.m. for a good walk ─ something over five miles. And I would do some grocery shopping at Save-On-Foods during my return when I was approximately a mile from home.
The reason for rising so early was in order to have a rich mug of coffee with which to stir up my energies and afford me with vigour to have some exercising in the backyard tool shed before leaving. I would also check online for sales on the few items of interest to me at the store. Too, I wanted to do any needed grooming of my frontal beard and moustache.
I rose, but as said, the power was still off. I could not boil water for coffee, nor use my computer. I could not even try to groom until there was sufficient daylight.
The major loss was that mug of rich coffee. All yesterday I had been listless and weak due to the Sabbath fast I was undergoing that included abstaining even from black coffee. And now here I was, still in the severe throes of caffeine withdrawal, yet unable to indulge in an essential brew.
I could do nothing but bide time, lying in bed hoping for the return of electrical power, and otherwise awaiting sifficient daylight for whatever obvious grooming might be required.
By 5:30 a.m. it was light enough that I could have had my tool shed exercises, but I was too infernally feeble from the caffeine withdrawal. Even the prospect of walking five miles was dreadful. I considered reducing the distance; or even abandoning an outing at all.
But I dared not begin skipping these alternate-day walks. Better that I eventually make them a daily happening.
It was at least 5:51 a.m. by the time I was on my way, and already the Sun was blinding ─ the first half of my walk was into the east.
My mood was foul ─ I was feeling miserable.
Somehow I found the resolve to duplicate the walk I had exactly two weeks ago (May 21), but there was nothing about the outing that was enjoyable, except for maybe a couple of pleasant exchanges of greeting with two separate older couples out walking.
Incidentally, I withdrew $200 from my chequing account from one of my financial institution's ATMs after clocking my first mile or so because I only had $10 in my wallet.
It was likely around 8:30 a.m. by the time I was back ─ maybe a little earlier. No one else was yet up ─ nor was the power back on.
I had seen the problem. At our nearest intersection, someone had 'taken out' a telephone pole. An avenue was entirely blocked off by repair vehicles and equipment. The pole itself ─ or at least, its upper half or so, with a long shard or splinter hanging from the break ─ was suspended by the various cables. I think that by then the lower half of the pole had been sawn down.
I saw all of this on my outward trek. At returning, a new pole had already been installed.
Drained from my dreary walk, I got back into bed to rest and await the return of the electricity, scarcely believing that this misfortune had beset me when I was so desperately in need of sustaining coffee.
No one else in the household was obviously keen on starting the morning.
I was probably in bed for over an hour, and only got back up because I recognized that my brother had bitten the bullet and risen.
I was to learn from him that he had placed a phone call of enquiry, and got an automated recording informing him that the blackout likely stretched for a mile east to west, and a half mile south to north. Estimated restoration of power ─ 1 p.m.
He also told me that he believed that he went to bed around 1 a.m. last night, and the power was fine then.
So we sat in the living room, basically commiserating. The guy who normally delivers the Sunday morning edition of The Province that I subscribe to evidently decided that the loss of electrical power hereabouts was excuse enough for him to shun the duty.
I expect that this morning's newspaper will show up tomorrow ─ nothing like getting the news in a newspaper, which is probably published sometime on Saturday, delivered on a Monday morning. Current events? Hardly.
Well, we did not have to wait until 1 p.m. for the restoration of electricity. It flared back up at 10:30 a.m. or soon thereafter. And the first thing that I did was put a kettle of water onto the stove to boil for that essential coffee I was craving!
I was also eager to put our Android TV Box to work for some videos. Two of the most recent on Rumble's Laura-Lynn Tyler Thompson channel looked pretty good (and were).
One livestreamed two days ago was 50 minutes: Maxime Bernier at Portage La Prairie.
Maxime Bernier is the only political leader who understand the battle that parents are facing in the sexualization of their children.
PPC: https://www.peoplespartyofcanada.ca/
You have to tune in just to watch some young woman with a placard ("Basic Human Rights") thrust herself before the camera and make quite an idiot of herself ─ this was not too very long into the video. And she remained for the rest of the video.
I have no idea what agenda she was supposed to be supporting. Maxime Bernier attempted to engage her in a discussion, but all she would do is shout a few insults. Was she supporting transgenderism? The LGBTQ(etc.) movement? SOGI 123?
Who knows? She was wholly unable to express herself ─ she had nothing to say because there was no foundational argument or defence for whatever her cause was. She lacked the words ─ she was nothing more than a blind adherent to some cause she could not even begin to explain.
It was pathetic.
It was sad, though. She was actually quite attractive, and clearly had courage, even if it was utterly misplaced.
Had I been a speaker, I would have repeatedly worked into my talk her "basic human rights" slogan as being part of the PPC platform, leaving her with absolutely no foundation. I would openly have inferred that she was supporting our cause, thereby undermining whatever it was that she was promoting ─ in even her limited understanding, she should likely have perceived her floundering failure.
The second video was 43 minutes in duration, and had been livestreamed yesterday: Branden Leslie or Maxime Bernier?
There is an epic battle going on in Southern Manitoba in the riding of Portage-Lisgar, where the people of Portage-Lisgar have an opportunity to choose someone who is willing to represent their values and willing to fight for them in Parliament. Branden Leslie will not talk about standing against abortion and he will not speak against the gender ideology assaulting the children of Manitoba in every school. What difference will Maxime Bernier make?
We finished up with some of the charming and interesting early video recordings uploaded to YouTube's Talasbuan channel.
Neither my brother nor I were to seek any further bed rest or naps. He left for his daily socializing; and I had a meal, and then was out into the backyard for nigh 1½ hours of sunning.
It is almost astounding what coffee can endow for those addicted to caffeine.
This is rather odd, for I only drink three mugs a day, each with a heaping teaspoon of instant coffee and a little unsweetened cocoa powder added. So maybe I am equally addicted to the rich sweetening, along with the ample liquid whipping cream that I use for creamer?
I will be sitting up late this evening to watch T.V. with my brother whenever he bothers to return. I will also be having two cans of the strong (8% alcohol) malt that I keep in stock, but I will not start on that specific beverage until at least 9:50 p.m.
Back here tomorrow for another post, I expect!
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