A Lost Sunday

After spending some while here shut up in my bedroom last evening after my drunken brother ─ newly home by bus from where he had gone social drinking ─ seemed to make himself comfortable with his girlfriend Bev and whatever she had been watching on T.V., I went to bed. I am unsure now, but it may not have been quite 10:30 p.m. My cellphone alarm was set for 5 a.m.

As is common for me, I slept in a number of blocks of sleep, and may have been primarily conscious when my cellphone alarm sounded. I soon realized that my idiot youngest stepson had still not gone to bed, and would be repeating how he spent most of yesterday ─ sleeping away the daylight hours.

My intention was to be getting out to do some local grocery shopping, but I declined badly. If I had remained true, I would have probably left here around 7:45 - 7:50 a.m. to walk the ¾ of a mile to Save-On-Foods, but by that point it was already disconcertingly light outside and crows were squawking.

I lost heart. The prospect of being out in the daylight was too much for me. Besides, my left foot was disconcertingly still quite sore from yesterday's 5.625-mile round trip hike to Real Canadian Superstore; and I was feeling related aches and pains. Clearly, this 75-year-old lacks so much of former vitality and recuperative ability.

I had also become ridiculously in need of further sleep, and so anon I returned to bed ─ it was by then maybe around 8 a.m.

After some short dreamy sleep, I believe I may have risen around or soon after 8:30 a.m., but I realized that I was every bit as needful of sleep as I had earlier been, so I went straight back to bed for another 40 - 45 minutes, dreaming more.

One of my dreams involved meeting Nathalie Lachapelle, a former co-worker of maybe two years, and back in the latter 1990s whom I had a massive crush on. She was of course a Francophone, and with the most delightful accent.

In my dream, she had shown up at some function I was at. I heard her name being mentioned, and immediately ─ and improbably, in view of the fact that in my dream she no longer resembled the Nathalie I had known ─ I rose from where I had been seated and advanced to her, speaking her name.

She looked at me, and then recognition spread in astonishment across her face. Oddly, though, she estimated that it must have been at least five years since we last saw each other. That flummoxed me ─ the 'dream' me, and the 'real' me, for how could anyone equate five years with a span of 25 years?

She had a baby in her arms, and then she was joined by another Francophone ─ apparently the young gent she had been living with back when she and I were co-workers. It would seem that in my dream he had returned with her to Quebec and they must have married.

He seemed to recognize me straight off, yet he had no familiarity to my eyes whatsoever.

Anyway, Nathalie quickly seemed to lose interest in me, so I returned to my chair.

It is not often I recall much of a dream.

Back to reality, since it was maybe 9:15 a.m. and no one else was up (my stepson had retired for the day), I decided to watch some T.V. downstairs via our Android TV Box. My choice was a 55-minute video published January 17 to Rumble's Atlantic Underground Podcast channel: Dr Peter McCullough on the Atlantic Underground.

Dr Peter McCullough returns to the Atlantic Underground and discusses the real truth behind what has happened and what we should be doing to protect ourselves. The key information here is something everyone should be aware of so help your fellow humans and get this interview into their hands and together we can be stronger and healthier moving into the turbulent 2025.

see Peters work at https://www.petermcculloughmd.com/

Only now did I realize that the video was over a month old ─ I would have watched something else if I had been aware.

My brother joined me during it ─ probably into its second half.

Next I tuned in a 45-minute video published February 19 to Rumble's The Patriot Strong Podcast channel: EPISODE 261: DR. WILLIAM MAKIS & THE CURE THAT COULD TURN BIG PHARMA ON THEIR HEAD.

Dr. William Makis has been known for advocating alternative approaches to cancer treatment, particularly emphasizing the use of repurposed medications and non-traditional therapies.

I finished us up with the final half hour or so of a 1962 black & white British 'coming of age' movie that we had broken from twice before because my brother opted to retreat for some bed rest: The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner.

I had downloaded the movie, and now cannot say with certainty what my source was, but I would venture that it was this OK.ru link. Unfortunately, I needed to have the downloaded movie played with the volume cranked up to the maximum '100'; yet even then, the dialogue was sometimes indistinguishable, and quite apart from accents.

Also, in this morning's sitting, the video kept pausing for 10 or so seconds every half minute at most. I do not know if this was the fault of the recording, or if the MX Player was to blame.

Lead actor Tom Courtney may have been visually familiar to me, but I am not wholly convinced. Ditto his name. I cannot say positively that any of the cast was known to me even remotely. But in this third and final sitting at watching the movie, I did finally recognize an actor who was not named in the cast, and was just another of the delinquents. I had read after our first sitting of the movie that he was present in it and that it was one of his first roles. The actor was John Thaw, who would later become famous as the title character in Inspector Morse. The telltale marking or scar to the outside of his left eyebrow was the identifier for me.

I was sorry to read of what had become of the actress who played a girlfriend of the lead juvenile character in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner. Actress Topsy Jane was fated to have a rather sorry life.

I must say that the finish of the movie was disappointing. To me, it made no sense at all why the lead character would throw away the race just to consign himself into having no remarkable future. Nor do we have any idea what was to become of him after he ever got released from the detention facility.

It made no sense to me at all.

I was looking around for a source of two contemporary 1962 John Thaw movies (both are T.V. movies) titled Smashing Day or A Smashing Day, and Nil Carborundum; but there seem to be no online sources. Where T.V. series were concerned back then in Britain, episodes were recorded onto tapes that were then subsequently re-recorded over because of economics, forever deleting the original recordings, so maybe it was also happening with T.V. movies.

The early morning today had considerable blue sky, but this was to cloud over. By midafternoon it was pouring rain and lasted thus till dark.

My brother never ran any errands today in his van, but he did still leave Bev and headed off to catch a bus to re-engage his daily social drinking that he cannot live without.

A little before 3:30 p.m. my wife showed up; but she was gone after maybe 20 minutes, merely explaining softly, "I'll be back."

This has been a bath day, so I was to undertake that chore shortly before 6 p.m. Had my wife not come home, I would have attempted exercising despite not feeling at all like it. But now with Bev home all day long doing nothing but watching T.V., I no longer can avail myself of my brother's large ("master") bedroom as I used to do in his absence. Mine is far too small and chock full of boxes and bags of my things that I have nowhere else to keep them. And so my sole other option is my wife's slightly larger and uncluttered bedroom.

But with her apparently returning at some point, I do not have the peace of mind nor motivation to attempt exercising there.

And so the bath ─ baths generally leave me depleted. But even if that was not so, I still have nowhere to securely exercise. I might have used the backyard tool shed, but my midday (and first) meal left me overfull for the daylight hours to be capable of exercising out there.

Whether I will watch T.V. this evening with my brother once he is home again is of course going to depend upon his state. It will also depend upon just when he gets home.

Yesterday I had visions of getting out for some evening local grocery shopping if I did not manage any this morning, but bath days complicate doing that ─ by the time I have bathed, including shaving of face and scalp, and then doing a token scouring of the bathtub when I am finished, darned near an hour has been consumed.

So now I am not only feeling somewhat drained, but that near-hour cost me time that I might have used to better gear or psyche up for any outing afoot.

Maybe the rain is done and will not return tonight ... but an online check just now reveals that no lasting breaks are to be expected until Tuesday. I could have otherwise risen overnight and had some exercise at the elementary school playground maybe three blocks away. I cannot perform pull-ups and chin-ups on wet bars with wet hands.

Gosh, this sucks.

♣♣♣♣♣

Well, at about 7:50 p.m. my wife returned, and was in quite a good mood ─ she had visited with her eldest son who moved out about 12 days ago to live with his girlfriend. My wife actually visited their apartment, and became enchanted with the girlfriend's cat.

She asked me if we should get one!

I don't know what will come of that ─ maybe the attraction will wear off in short enough order.

Anyway, right after she got home ─ maybe five minutes later ─ my brother also showed up. I cannot yet tell his condition. But either way, I might as well stamp this post as concluded for today.

My brother has thus far been watching the nonsense Bev has on T.V., and he is into his first beer. Maybe he will anon be passing out ─ I won't waste my time thinking to be watching any shows with him if that becomes the case.

At present, it is 8:10 p.m.