It seems to me that it was ... no, I cannot now say just when it was that I got to bed last evening. I was going to suggest that it was a little past 10 p.m., but it may have been a half hour later than that.
Whatever the case, my sleep was not easily won ─ not in any of the chunks of sleep that comprised my time in bed until I finally checked the time at 3:22 a.m. and rose (my cellphone alarm had been set for 3:30 a.m.).
I felt well enough, I suppose. And once I was set to leave for the elementary school playground maybe three blocks away, my fully dressed weight was 186 pounds ─ boots and all. The time was around 3:45 a.m.
It seemed dry enough out there ─ no recent rain; so I had some hope of finding the playground equipment dry for use, but it was not. It was drenched in condensation.
My left foot's plantar fasciitis (or whatever else might be amiss with it) would burn at the heel (where the arch begins) on occasion as I slowly walked to the school ─ and this wretchedly slow walking is also becoming extremely irksome, for I cannot bear having anyone around and perhaps inadvertently tailing me. I feel unfit that anyone would witness me walking so pathetically slowly.
But I matched my exercise session of early Thursday past at the school, except this time it was a wee bit easier on my breathing. Certainly, I was doing so heavily; but last time was probably broaching upon being critical. No 75-year-old should subject himself to such extreme strain.
Anyway, with the usual 30-count between all sets, I opened with two sets of pull-ups (6-3), then two sets of chin-ups (3-3), two sets of pull-ups between a pair of gymnastics-style rings (2-2), then a final set of two pull-ups between a pair of jungle gym monkey bars that saw me finish the last pull-up with a loose dead hang at completion for a 50-count.
I was in no particular rush ─ that is, there was no 30-count before commencing it ─ to engage the set of 10 slow full-range decline push-ups on a nearby cement ramp.
After that it was the slow walk back home.
My youngest stepson had been up and still was when I got back, but at that point he was in the bathroom ─ possibly for a shower ─ and was to retire to bed thereafter.
I shut myself into my bedroom, never sure if my eldest stepson is going to be rising to ready for one of his 6 a.m. 12-hour shifts at Tree Island Steel. But it seems to me that it's been maybe Tuesday since he last went to work.
I believe that I returned to bed considerably before 6 a.m., but had my usual trial trying to sleep.
My wakeful sessions are often long. I was to finally take a peek at the time and saw it to be around 9:30 a.m., so I rose, wondering if my wife had a full workday scheduled and was already up; and if my younger brother was already watching T.V.
The case was true for both of them. My wife was in her housecoat, and busy cooking in the kitchen, so I quietly just joined my brother in the living room.
I am always so in dread that my wife will be in need of money from me that I had deliberately not issued her a greeting of "good morning", nor when she went upstairs to have a shower. I expect that she and my brother had earlier exchanged such greetings before I made my appearance.
Anon she came back downstairs to put on her footwear and gather together whatever she would be taking with her when she left, and then she just went to the front door and departed without a word that my brother and I were able to hear. Generally she just sounds a very clipped and quiet "Bye" as she leaves, so it is possible that we simply did not hear. Nevertheless, it all made me feel ... well, I already know that our marriage has long been over. It is only her insatiable need each month for my pension money that results in what communication she has with me.
Or so it seems.
She repaid me $500 last Wednesday evening, which was nice; but it only signifies that she will be broke all that much sooner. And her repayment was not even half of what she had gotten from me since early December.
Enough. I must speak no further of money matters, else my disposition will be shot for the day.
As for T.V. with my brother, we finished watching the last 40 or so minutes of the long (2:20:58) video we had to suspend yesterday, and which had been published earlier that day to Rumble's The Joe Rogan Experience Podcast channel: Joe Rogan Experience #2254 - Mel Gibson.
I truly enjoyed the interview. I see that Mark Zuckerberg is Joe Rogan's latest guest, but that interview is a bloody half hour longer than Mel's ─ and I don't care one bit for censorship-mad Zuckerberg, so we won't be tuning it in.
We next watched ─ or at least I did, for my brother spent most of the video freshening up in his bedroom and shower, intending to head away unusually early ─ a 43-minute (43:56) video published January 7 at Rumble's Canadian Citizens for Charter Rights and Freedoms channel: C3RF "In Hot" with Matthew Pauly & James Roguski.
Major Russ Cooper (Ret'd) engages Bill C-293 and WHO International Health Regulations (IHR) opponents Mattew Pauly and James Roguski. How is it that lessons learned from Wuhan virus pandemic mistakes can be ignored? How is it that Canadian civil liberties and national interests can be offloaded to international agencies and corporations without citizen input? Strap in for an informative and much-needed discussion. Time for rank-and-file Canadians to get involved?
It would have been very helpful to viewers if mentioned websites were linked to in the video description. I had to replay Matthew Pauly's verbal identification of one crucial website several times before I finally got it written out correctly: stopc-293.ca. When I visited the website, it morphed into https://preventgenocide2030.org/canada/.
Nevertheless, I added my details into the sign-in form and thereby had it send forth E-mails to the various Canadian senators to urge them to vote "No" on Bill C-293. I shall be doing so on behalf of my brother, as well.
My brother left no later than 10:40 a.m. to catch a bus, and would be meeting up around noon with some drinking buddy. Thus, he will be getting plastered today, no doubt, for I cannot imagine him beginning drinking midday and coming home this evening in tolerable condition. I shall not be sharing his society when he does get home.
After he left, I was to sample one further video at 11 a.m. or soon afterwards, but it was nearly 2½ hours long (2:25:50). I let it run for maybe a half hour, then decided to stop watching T.V. and return to my bedroom and the computer I work with here at my bedside.
Had nothing else been of interest and had it been midmorning, I might have tuned in the video for both my brother and I to watch ─ hard to say. It had been published January 9 to Rumble's The Ripple Effect Podcast channel: Should We Have Hope or Fear For The Future? | Dr. Jessica Rose | Ripple Effect #532.
I won't bother returning to it tomorrow morning, as much as I enjoy Jessica.
Since this has been my Sabbath fast, I had little delaying me from a return to bed in the earliest afternoon to help me escape the privation. Sleep was as uncooperative as ever, and I am still suffering ear blockage whenever I lie down onto a side ─ it is the lowermost ear that begins plugging. I dare not attempt to sleep on my back due to hypnic jerks ─ those spasms one can undergo when approaching asleep that will jolt one out of that relaxation. Sometimes it comes in the form of a bit of dream where one stumbles after not stepping high enough onto a curb, or maybe a tree root gets the blame.
Well, these spasms also result in a sudden clamping of the jaw ─ in other words, a bite. The casualty is often my tongue, the inside of a cheek, the inside of a lip ─ suffice to say, I dare not seek to fall asleep on my back. Even if no such spasm results, my jaw always sags open and I become a mouth-breather, and soon my mouth is dried right out. I have awakened to find myself on my back and my open mouth so damned dry inside that there was no saliva at all ─ the interior of everything was as dry as if it was some outer part of my body.
I am digressing.
I never napped quite as long as I hoped, for the day was still very much in force. I do not want to eat until 6 p.m. when it is good and dark, for yesterday I was still dealing with some Captain Morgan Dark Rum until at least 5:10 p.m., and thus was technically not yet fasting.
Around 4:40 p.m. this afternoon I decided to have a naked weigh-in to see how I was faring with today's fast: 175 pounds!
With that declared, it is around 5:20 p.m., so I am going to take a break to watch some telly.
♠♠♠♠♠♠
I never began watching my show until at least 5:50 p.m., so the breaking of my fast was deliciously nigh. My feed was to be a great bowl of my wife's morning cooking ─ a delicious ground beef pasta dish! Yum!
The T.V. show I tuned in (via our Android TV Box) had to be accessed via a website, for the four streaming apps downloaded into the Android TV Box all came up void and I lost patience.
So I was to watch The Avengers ─ season or series five's episode 14 ("Something Nasty in the Nursery") ─ at this OK.ru link, and it played flawlessly.
Good fun!
In the coming morning I intend to do some very early grocery shopping, although I have not exactly worked out just where. I dare not walk too far, or I will find myself lame again ─ my left foot has been overly sensitive all day today following that early a.m. outing for exercise at the elementary school playground.
Whatever my choice, I will most likely be rising at 5 a.m. to give myself sufficient time to adjust into the outing ─ I do not wish to be rushed. As well, I will be enjoying a mug of strong instant coffee, for I have been in a caffeine-withdrawal brain fog all day due to my fast in which I usually avoid even black and unsweetened coffee.
It is tempting to have a coffee now, but I fear that it would impair my sleep even more than will otherwise be so.
I am going to close this post here at 8:09 p.m. I have been home alone since I was just about to start watching The Avengers earlier, but this condition will not last much longer. I need to be set to shut myself up into my bedroom as soon as I suspect that my brother has returned.
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