As planned, I rose overnight at 1:30 a.m. to begin readying for my five-mile+ walk, and it was clearly raining steadily.
My youngest stepson was still up in the boys' den area downstairs, and would be oblivious to my eventual departure.
As well, my wife had come home following her full day of work at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time, and she was just about to go to bed, so I kept my bedroom door closed.
When I was set to go, my fully clothed weight (sans jacket) was approximately 181 pounds; and once I was outside the locked front door facing that steady rain, it was 1:59 a.m.
I needed my umbrella throughout the walk. There was to be no self-debate over whether I should stop at the elementary school playground three or so blocks from here for any exercise ─ that was going to have to await my return. At least then, if it was still raining, I would not have to face a wetting and then have to bear that state for too much longer.
I had the three pages of Affidavit of Identity information for homeless Charles "Stickman" McCarthy that I would be leaving just within the Green Timbers Urban Forest at an appointed spot alongside 100th Avenue. With the rain as it was, I had very little concern of getting tied up and delayed after possibly being recognized by him if he was lurking somewhere out of my notice. Even if he was braving the wet night, my umbrella allowed me to be an anonymous figure whose identity was pretty much shielded by its cover.
My route was such that I reached the appointed drop-off spot after I was into the second half of my walk.
Exactly two full days earlier I had left a note at that spot explaining that I had been unable to print out the material to leave at that time, for that had been the arrangement. So the note declared that I would meantime get the material printed and leave it early Saturday (today) for him to collect.
My note was still there, apparently untouched. Evidently Charles himself had not managed to attend the pick-up as had been arranged, so I retrieved my note and left the three pages in its place. He would be none the wiser that I had not printed out the material as I originally had said I would for the Thursday a.m. drop.
Of late I have begun increasing my pace after passing the halfway point, and that was certainly so on this occasion.
Once I was again at the elementary school and nearly home, I did stop at the playground for a half dozen sets of pull-ups and chin-ups and a set of full-range decline push-ups on a cement ramp.
There would be no wiping of a jungle gym monkey bar to exercise with, so I pulled out my old slim CLC gloves and ─ not daring to remove my black denim jacket ─ I started exercising with a set of pull-ups.
I only managed four repetitions, so I did two more sets of two pull-ups apiece before moving on to two sets of chin-ups, three in each set.
After that it was over to the gymnastics-style rings for two pull-ups in each of two sets that were clearly a strain; and when I attempted to hold the final pull-up for a 35-count, I likely rushed the count a little as I began to weaken and very slowly start an unwanted descent.
The decline push-ups were also a strain, for I barely managed a dozen of them.
It was exactly 4 a.m. by the time I was again outside the locked front door. My full excursion had taken just one minute over two hours, so it was very good time.
Once into the house I saw that my youngest stepson had gone to bed, so I turned off the kitchen light that he often carelessly or deliberately leaves burning. And then I went straight to the bathroom scales to see what my weight now was with my wet jacket and such still on: 187 pounds.
I was to eventually get to bed a little before 6 a.m., but my body temperature was low, and I never managed to feel fully warm in bed ─ this hampered my ability to easily find sleep. I was awake for long periods, it seemed.
Note that I was undergoing a Sabbath fast that commenced before dark Friday evening, and there had been a point well into the second half of my walk when I felt abnormally hungry.
While into another wakeful period in bed, I decided to check the time, and I believe that I read it to be somewhere between 9 and 10 a.m. ─ in other words, 9-something-or-other a.m.
I rose, desirous of later watching some morning videos on T.V. via our Android TV Box with my younger brother.
He was already watching T.V., so I spent a little time at my bedside computer before going downstairs to boil some water for a black instant coffee and then to join him.
Anon he invited me to play 'something short' ─ he wanted to get some further bed rest early because he was heading out at 12:30 p.m.
Well, I already had in mind to play Anita Krishna's latest video, and it was just about 45 minutes, so I tuned that in anyway.
My brother found it to be very interesting and was caught up in sitting with me longer than he had intended, so I took pity and offered to shut it down for us to resume tomorrow morning ─ there was something like 15 minutes of it remaining.
And off to his bedroom he went. By this time I had realized that I had risen an hour later than I had thought I was doing. It was already 11:30 a.m.
It all came to make sense that when I earlier rose and came forth from my bedroom, I saw that my wife had not only already risen, but she had bathed and gone for the day ─ another full workday. I just couldn't understand why she had done so especially early, for she does not usually leave until after 10 a.m.
Did she have something else she had to do first?
But no ─ she had probably risen at a usual time, and left for work similarly.
Anyway, once my brother headed off for his bed rest, for myself, I opted to watch a pair of relatively short recent videos at Rumble's A Warrior Calls channel.
First was one listed as 36:24 that had been published August 19: They Are Rolling in Their Graves/ TRUMP CONTROLLED.
The World is Shown the Corruption on multiple levels.
Either we the people wake up and gather on mass not to protest but move our courts or this world is finished.
They are pushing all of us into conflict time is off the essence
Trumptards are lost this man is not a savior he is corrupt to the core protecting Hillary clinton and more.
Judging by the video's viewer comments, not many people side with Christopher's stance concerning Trump.
Christopher also played an old clip from possibly 2020 in which a 102-year-old woman in some care home claims that she was taught in elementary school that the Earth is Flat. Well, whether or not it is, and whether or not she did have that taught and has not imagined it in some age-related dementia, my own mother was born two years prior to the old gal in the video, yet she never said a thing to me over the course of her life that schools in her early years taught Flat Earth.
My mother died in 2006, so she definitely lived long enough to have had time to mention something like this.
And I even spent time with her own mother ─ again, not a word was ever mentioned of being mis-educated about the shape of the world. Don't you think it would have merited some sort of mention at least once?
Anyway, the second video of his was listed as running 24:46, and had been published August 22: MONKEY POX/ BIRD FLU / VIRUSES ARE ALL....LIES.
Christine Massey is the only woman in the world exposing powerfully the lies
This interview shows the world with links below the truth destroying this evil narrative
Please share this video far and wide as future of mankind depends on it!
These are the links to see the massive evidence simply laid out for the world view and share far and wide.
https://viroliegy.com/
https://drsambailey.substack.com/
This monkeypox summit is posted on Sam's site:
Monkeypox Mania Summit
https://drsambailey.com/resources/videos/interviews/monkeypox-mania-summit/
More and more highly intelligent people are coming around to this very real possibility ... or maybe likelihood?
This latter video of course brought me to the noon hour, and I was still here at my bedside computer when my brother finally emerged from his bedroom.
I heard him fussing about in his bedroom and then downstairs for quite some while, and then at last he voiced that he was heading away.
I had not in this time actually seen him, for I remained here in my bedroom.
And then he came directly to me, asking if I would do him a favour. So I turned, and there he was fully attired in a suit and looking remarkably respectable.
The favour involved a smallish somewhat thickly filled dun-coloured envelope that had an "R" written on it and then a fairly large irregular ink 'dot'. He wanted me to take over its addressing ─ that is, to print his daughter's nickname.
This only required three more letters, but it seems that my brother's years of heavy drinking have rendered demonstrable instability to his hands ─ they really do shake quite badly.
So I printed the remainder of her name, and added three descending horizontal lines that grew progressively shorter.
He then asked that I also add "from Dad", so I did.
His 30-year-old daughter is getting married today in Washington State where she lives, so he is attending. Evidently he was not expecting me to accompany him, for he never previously issued an invitation ─ which is fine by me. I would rather never lay eyes upon his scheming, lying, malicious ex-wife for as long as I live.
Since my brother cannot drink if he is driving because of his van's newly installed ignition interlock device, he will have to remain entirely drink-free at the event the whole time he is in the States.
And so even though it is presently 6:10 p.m. as I type these words, he has yet to return. When he does, he will be perfectly sober.
The question thereafter is will he remain home and begin drinking? Or will he change his clothes and bus away to do his indulging?
I have just finished a nude weigh-in to see how my fast has progressed, for I will be eating again following sunset and dusk ─ I try to wait until it is actually dark.
At very most, I was 173 pounds.
The wet morning did taper into a dry afternoon, and by evening's arrival I noticed quite a lot of sunshine and blue sky. But I have felt somewhat unpleasantly cool all day without new calories coming in. And I only had that one unsweetened black instant coffee in the latter morning.
I've been dawdling with this latter portion of my post, so since it is presently 7:02 p.m., I am going to take a break. In fact, I believe that I shall be lying in bed beneath the covers and warming up a little.
More anon.
♦♦♦
My brother showed up at 7:10 p.m.
He had gone south fully intending to spend the night in his van, but following the marriage in which his daughter wore white, rap-style music became the entertainment and there was little to actually do.
Sure, he could have gotten obliterated, but he preferred not to do that.
So he came home.
And now he'll be spending the evening here.
I do plan to rise at 4 a.m. tomorrow, but I suppose once it is dark enough, I will join him and we can watch one of our shows ─ I have Vera in mind. Episodes are usually 90 minutes or so, I believe.
I can eat, and have a couple of beers, and properly be to bed ahead of midnight. It is presently 8:30 p.m., so I shall now conclude and publish this post.
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