Epic

Yesterday the Sun never began breaking through the cloud cover until the latter afternoon, so I had no sunning. Today, there was a fair amount of cloud floating about, but I did not budget my time properly, and thus never sunned again. Heck, I never even sought my early afternoon nap unto around 2 p.m.

Early last evening's Christmas movie should have been watched earlier, for even though I went to bed ahead of 10 p.m., leaving my cellphone alarm set for 1:30 a.m. to get me up to ready for my intended five-mile+ walk, I found myself awake well before that time.

For one thing, I badly needed micturition; but my heart rate ─ elevated by then due to alcohol withdrawal or hangover as a result of the two cans of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) and one of Bumper Crop cider (7% alcohol) drunk during the movie ─ stayed me from the physiological calm required to sleep.

At my alarm's chiming, I dutifully but fully reluctantly rose.

I knew that my wife was home because I heard her come into the house just when I was first going to bed, but she had smartly retired by this time. Only my idiot youngest stepson (25 years old) was up, but he was not privy to my departure.

Fully clothed sans jacket, at most I had weighed in at 182 pounds. And it was 1:49 a.m. once I was outside the locked front door and about to head off into a noticeably cool night.

It had taken me but 19 minutes from rising to be dressed and to get outside to begin my walk, so I was not in any sense recovered or normalized.

Initially I considered bypassing the elementary school playground three or so blocks away where I like to stop for some exercising, but at almost the last moment I felt that if there was any chance that the equipment was not yet wet with condensation or dew, I had best take advantage.

Alas, the jungle gym monkey bar I wanted to use for some pull-ups and chin-ups was wet and required considerable wiping down with a bandana to make secure for my grip.

Of course, I was hardly in peak condition. At my age of 74, when I am hungover and inadequately slept, I am always cognizant of the risk that intense physical strain might bring on.

Natheless, I doffed my denim jacket and found the determination to see if it was possible to attain my recent personal best that has also become my norm ... before achieving it becomes impossible once I have to start wearing a jacket or even gloves due to conditions of the coming cold weather.

Well, it took heaving and leg motion, but I managed to succeed with the half dozen sets of pull-ups and chin-ups: 8-3-3-3-2-2.

As usual, the first two sets are pull-ups, and the middle two sets are chin-ups. The closing two sets are pull-ups on a pair of gymnastics-style rings; and I held the very final pull-up of those for a hard won 40 count.

And then I went over to the nearby cement ramp and also managed 14 full-range decline push-ups, but I was exclaiming aloud with the final two or three, just as I had done in holding the final pull-up for the full 40-count.

Finishing up with such an accomplishment always elevates my mood ─ and of course it is always good to survive yet one more exercise session.

Nothing else comes to mind concerning events of the walk. I made a stop about ¾ of a mile from returning home in order to withdraw $200 from my financial institution's ATM. So perhaps between that and the wiping down of the jungle gym monkey bar, maybe that's why my walk took four minutes beyond two hours ─ it was 4:33 a.m. once I was back outside the locked front door.

That stepson of mine had still not gone to bed, but he appeared to be readying to do so. Whether that was to happen before his older brother (now 30 years old) rose to begin readying for his workday and the fairly long drive to Tree Island Steel to begin his 6 a.m. 12-hour shift does seem unlikely, for that lad seems to rise anywhere from 4:40 - 4:50 a.m.

I was back to bed before 6 a.m., and was a bit surprised to not again check the time until just after 9 a.m., forcing me to hustle up from bed. I had initially thought that it was 10 or more minutes later than it turned out to be, and thus the rush.

After I joined my younger brother downstairs watching T.V. ─ maybe nearly 9:20 a.m. ─ I noticed that my wife had just left her bedroom and occupied the bathroom, so I correctly identified that she had a full workday in store at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time. She was to leave here in the vicinity of 10:10 a.m., or a little later.

My brother wasted no time in issuing the invitation to me to put our Android TV Box into operation, so I led us off with a 1-minute video published two days ago at Rumble's AnitaKrishna channel: No cash at cash machine!

Could not deposit my cash at a VanCity ATM. What could possibly be the reason the bank wouldn’t be taking cash?

I followed that with a 37-minute (37:38) video published yesterday at BitChute's
TheWarAgainstYou channel: Null and Void: Thomas Jefferson's 1774 Radical Declaration. Limited Power of Gov. British Tyranny.

The video description is longer than I care to be reproducing here, so please access the link to read it for yourself if it interests you.

Then it was a 25-minute (25:11) video published earlier today at BitChute's Armed Patriot channel: Adolf Hitler on the World Jewish NWO Plot.

Adolf Hitler warned of the Communist-Jewish Plot, aka New World Order (NWO).

I always find it interesting when videos attempt to paint the man in nothing but a goodly light.

We next watched a 46-minute video also published earlier today, but this time at Rumble's WTFLouie channel: The United States of Communism Truth Be Told 06-Sep-2024.

Lisa Miron from Canada explains what to expect and how much trouble it is going to be, with some clues on how to manage.

Harrowing! It primarily dealt with so-called 15 Minute Cities.

We finished up with the final 20 or so minutes of a video we had to terminate from yesterday ─ I had previously downloaded it onto a thumb or flash drive.

At 58 minutes (58:50), ir had originally been published on July 10, 2019, at BitChute's Adaneth channel: Chivalry and Betrayal: The Hundred Years War | Breaking the Bonds: 1360-1415 (Episode 2).

Episode 2: England, wracked by plague and revolt, loses the upper hand until Henry V, determined to prove his right to be king, turns the tide at the battle of Agincourt.

We had already previously watched the first episode in this three-part series.

What I can't quite understand is if the French nobles already knew from the Battle of Crécy in 1346 wherein merciless English commoner bowmen seemed to practically exterminate the flower of French chivalric knighthood, why the Hell would the idiots wage a nearly identical battle against the invading British at Agincourt that was to result in a similar extermination?

I must leave that query, for my evening has begun and I want to get out later for a beer shopping hike. I see that the day has solidly clouded over, so maybe there really was not that much good sunning available earlier ─ it is not as if I spend my home time outside, after all.

I had what seemed to be a decent early afternoon nap ... well, it was not all that early; but I have declined. If I am to be undertaking the enterprise I have in mind, I am going to need some further restorative time abed.

Perhaps I will just take a break and not yet publish this post. At present, it is 6:29 p.m.

♦♦♦

I lay down till 7:20 p.m., feeling considerably improved. However, it was insufficiently dark as yet for me to care to be abroad in the South Asian public on a trek to a government liquor store ere its 9 p.m. closure ─ none are nearer than two miles.

I hate being out there afoot, intruding amongst the land of the South Asians as former Surrey has now become, until it is at least dark and fewer of the younger men are any sort of hurdle.

So to kill time until nightfall, I opted to watch The Avengers ─ episode 11 ("Epic") of season five. Pure impossible camp, but I loved it! Unfortunately, despite my years, no guest actors' names meant a thing to me, so I will not dwell upon them.

Also unfortunately, my wife texted me fairly early into the show that a delivery had been left outside the front door, and would I please bring it in.

I did so.

A bit later, she texted again to ask that I send her a photo of the items in the package, so I opened the darned thing and assembled the numerous items on her bed and sent the image. That was a half hour ago, and I've not heard back.

Then during the climactic scene of the show when Steed was rescuing helpless Emma Peel, my drunken brother crossed the lawn outside the living room picture window and came into the house. At the time, I had no idea how drunk he was, but he came into the house spending an inordinate amount of time dressing down, then fouled my show's conclusion by rudely playing a couple of house phone answering machine messages unrelated to anyone here.

He finally went upstairs to his bedroom and seems to have passed out on his bed.

Well, screw that!

I am going to ready myself and be off for the beer ─ Green Timbers Liquor Store (open till 11 p.m.) about two miles away will once again be getting my custom. This time, I intend to purchase a full two dozen cans ─ that's a walk home of 10 pounds being carried in each hand, so I shan't be hastening.

Why should I? To get home to my besotted brother?

Anyway, should you wish to watch that episode of The Avengers, I did so at this link at OK.ru, and it played flawlessly.

It is now 9:12 p.m., so I will hence ready and be gone.