Lonelyville

It may have been 9:45 p.m. by the time I retired last evening, my cellphone alarm set for 1:30 a.m. to get me up for a five-mile+ walk.

When fully set to go, my fully clothed weight was 190 pounds; and it was 2:05 a.m. once I was outside and set to go.

As is usual on these early a.m. walks, I wear old hiking boots ─ maybe 25 or more years old. I keep trying to wear through some part of the sole before I feel justified in throwing them out, but the things are ridiculously resilient.

Nevertheless, I have little doubt that their age and degradation of foot support are contributing to this lameness I keep speaking of that seems to exclusively affect my left lower leg and foot. If I had the financial wherewithal to buy several pairs of quality new boots, I would eagerly part with these inferior ones.

I attempted to walk leisurely enough to try and avoid the recurrence of the lameness effect, but by the time I was not quite ¾ of a mile from home on the return, the condition was setting in. And the last few blocks had my pace ridiculously reduced, with my gait unstable and almost hobbling.

It was 4:35 a.m. by the time I was home. I should be able to do the walk in an hour or even less.

Incidentally, I did have my early stop at the elementary school playground three or so blocks from here for a half dozen sets of pull-ups and chin-ups. I opted to keep my denim jacket on, so that restriction kept me to five instead of six pull-ups in the opening set. Thus: 5-2-3-2-2-2.

The final two sets were on a pair of gymnastics-style rings, and I held the very last pull-up for a 25-count before heading over to a cement ramp for a dozen slow, full-range decline push-ups.

I also want to mention seeing a coyote along Green Timbers Way (Google Map). I had left Fraser Highway and crossed 140th Street, and had passed right along the outside of Jim Pattison Outpatient Care and Surgery Centre, and was just starting along Green Timbers Way when it crossed ahead of me, taking to a forest-shrouded lane that angles down and right around Surrey Nature Centre.

Anyway, I was not to return to bed until maybe as late as 6:15 a.m. My wife had never come home ─ the second consecutive night, I believe.

I cannot honestly remember just when I next rose, but possibly it was ahead of 8:30 a.m. Whatever the case, I not only got possession rights to the T.V. just after 9 a.m., but my younger brother never emerged from his bedroom to come downstairs until after 10 a.m.

I gave up waiting for him no later than 9:40 a.m., putting our Android TV Box to work and tuning in a 1¼-hour (1:14:57) video published early today at BitChute's Wandering Citizen channel: John Kirby and Libby Handros: Four Died Trying.

Please join me for a spirited interview with two courageous filmmakers who are working to enhance our knowledge of history and politics and current events with their vital documentaries.

Emanuel E. Garcia, MD

Their bold new and critically important series on the Deep State assassinations of the Sixties, Four Died Trying, can be found here:

https://www.fourdiedtrying.com/

There are other links ─ refer to the video link to see them, if interested.

With my brother present, I next tuned in a 15-minute (14:58) video also published today, but at Rumble's AKStraightSpeaks channel: Clare and Kamala with Stef from Jimmy Dore.

So great to be invited on to be part of Stef's "Premium Streamium"! Find out more at jimmydore.com.
And for on me. please check out anitakrishna.com

We finished with a 55-minute (54:54) video published yesterday by Odessa Orlewicz: New- Freedom Of Information (FOIP) Emails Reveal Nova Scotia, Canada "Health" Authority KNEW The Shots Were Killing/Hurting People.

Nova Scotia Health Authority writes" concerning" in one email when people started getting strokes, death, and more. One email showed excitement that they went an entire week without a myocarditis event. You don't want to miss seeing these emails no matter what part of the world you live in as we are "all in this together" apparently.

I don't know what was up with my brother, but I don't think that it was yet noon when he left for the day without any bed rest.

Not much later, my eldest stepson showed up ─ he had apparently left early this morning for his 6 a.m. 12-hour day shift, so I have no idea why he was back. I never enquired.

But I did chat with my youngest stepson. He had texted me shortly after my brother had joined me (for morning T.V.) that he had transferred a $600 contribution towards the fortnightly mortgage, and the annual home insurance that is due June 14.

So I engaged him in some conversation, letting him know something that I have been planning for some weeks ─ if I am still alive at the time to accomplish the deed, of course. Namely, I intend to give him and his brother each 25% of whatever my portion is of a sale of the house once the massive debts are paid off that I have allowed their mother to pile up. We're speaking here of maybe $125,000 in debts, if not even more.

The 25-year-old lad has actually been counselling that we should sell the house before the coming real estate crash strikes ─ as well as the collapse of the dollar now that it no longer has any foundation in the petroleum industry (on June 7 Saudi Arabia ended the arrangement with the States that created the "petrodollar" at that time, and that had existed as the world's primary currency for many decades).

And so I will soon have to let my brother know that both of the lads are likely keen on giving up their home here in Canada. He has long threatened that he was going to push to sell the property ─ now we'll see just how staunch he really is.

Naturally, the conversation with him is one I will only broach when he is sober.

The day was unexpectedly sunny ─ I had believed that it was supposed to be a mix of Sun and cloud. So after an early afternoon needed nap, I rose around 2:30 p.m. to discover that my wife was home, having a meal at the dining table. She was to leave at 3 p.m. on her fairly long drive to work the latter part of the day at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time.

She and I didn't say much to one another. I doubt that she knows anything of talk about selling the house.

At her departure for work, I was out into the backyard for some sunning. I am unsure, but possibly I got in 1½ hours or so.

The plan is an evening walk ─ I am considering the 5.625-mile round trip hike to Real Canadian Superstore. As motivator, I drank a can each of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) and Bumper Crop Crisp Apple Cider (7% alcohol) while watching Law & Order: Criminal Intent here at my computer.

The choice was because it was reportedly Alicia Witt's second appearance in the series. I adore her!

The episode ─ if you care ─ was season seven's episode four ("Lonelyville"). It's not the sort of role I want to enjoy Alicia in, but it's better than none at all. I tuned it in at this link at M4uHD.net, and it player perfectly.

It surprised me to hear my brother's recognizable cough downstairs while I watched the show ─ he had apparently arrived home at some point to watch the Oilers lose their third consecutive Stanley Cup playoffs game against the Panthers ─ I am so relieved that I am not prey to this fan-based despondency. There are greater issues happening than this nonsense.

I am going to rest my eyes for a short time and then get away on that walk ─ maybe as early as 9 p.m. We shall see.