Memories of Christmas

Even though I may have been to bed last evening around 10:30 p.m., when my 3 a.m. cellphone alarm sounded, I courted the notion of remaining in bed and dispensing with the walk to work my damaged right leg.

But I relented and rose, and commenced readying.

This time I opted to follow a route that must surely have yielded a distance of around a mile. But I have got to say that my leg is in bad shape. I am constantly under threat of stumbling and falling if I am not careful about not catching my toe on some irregularity along the sidewalk; or even an unnoticed downward slope as can happen when some driveways intersect the sidewalk.

It would not take much at all because my lower quadriceps around the top of my knee are so weakened and lacking in the ability to provide me support. I still dare not have my bad leg as the supporting leg if I am stepping down a step on a stair by using my good leg. The bad leg cannot support my weight when crooked in that fashion, although I can step upwards with it on a stair. A different network of musculature seems involved in supporting my body weight when the leg is extended behind on a stair as opposed to when the leg is advanced in climbing a stair.

The former seems filled with naught but peril.

Anyway, I'm sure that I was back to bed comfortably ahead of 6 a.m., but I was not to check the time later until after 9 a.m., which was something of a shock. I had little time to dally before getting downstairs to boil water for my day's first instant coffee and to join my younger brother for some morning T.V.

When he turned it over to me so that I could operate our Android TV Box, I turned in a very good nearly 1¾-hour (1:44:19) video published yesterday to BitChute's Banned Youtube Videos channel: Dye Hard | The Highwire.

Historic moves out of Washington D.C., as HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. announces his fight to find the cause of autism, and new FDA Commissioner Dr. Marty Makary takes action to remove toxic additives and dyes from our food. Jefferey Jaxen reports on the White House embracing lab leak theory, the bleak future of Bayer’s Roundup, and new cancer risks associated with COVID vaccines—just as the federal government begins to reverse its stance. New Bill Makes Health History in Tennessee. Finally, retired pediatrician Dr. Paul Thomas shares his journey from vaccine advocate to whistleblower in his new book, ‘Vax Facts.’

Guests: Bernadette Pajer, Dr. Paul Thomas

We got over halfway through a second video, but my brother wanted to bail so he could get some further bed rest before leaving on foot to catch a bus so he could go social drinking and play pool at (I believe) Donegal's Pub.

Naturally his return to his bedroom heralded Bev's emergence to come downstairs to where I was nearly finished a quick preparation of what was to be my day's first of two meals.

I ate that upstairs here at my bedside computer, and was soon enough having my early afternoon nap, hoping to get some time in afterwards sunning out in the backyard.

I suppose that it was shortly before 2:30 p.m. when I was newly risen, and then I heard the unmistakable sounds of my wife coming into the house.

I was to get a quick "Hi!" from her as she passed by my bedroom on her way to her own; and then by maybe 2:45 p.m. she had gone. I am supposing that she was scheduled to work in the latter afternoon at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time.

I got in my sunning. I started at 2:52 p.m. and continued on until 4:14 p.m., and was spared any noise from the damned awful mutts beyond the backyard fence.

After that I came back into the house to boil water for my day's third and final mug of instant coffee, and then got to work on a post first at my private blog, and then I got this post going.

At present it is 8:06 p.m. My brother has not returned, so I am going to shut myself up here in my bedroom and watch a show ─ maybe even a movie ─ here on my computer whilst enjoying some beer.

I am as yet unsure just what I intend to do overnight ─ probably another early walk as was the case last night.

★★★

I chose a movie ─ 2018's Memories of Christmas.

Since I am not 'Black', I often choose to bypass Black-centric Christmas movies because the family atmosphere and social dynamics are completely alien to me ─ I seek Christmas movies that echo what is of greatest significance to my own early experience in life.

But I gave this one a chance, and never regretted doing so. The cast was by no means 'all-Black', to start off with. And the setting was a Wintry Michigan town.

The lead actress was Christina Milian. Unknown to me though she is, she has quite a list of credits, and she is darned cute. But she has a two-note 'chuckle' when she gives a polite laugh that is a complete reproduction of another ("White") actress who I am unable to identify, but I remember her from a past Christmas movie and I believe that I wrote something about that rather unique bit of a laugh.

I finished my first can of Cariboo Malt without feeling too much emotion ─ at least a couple of times my eyes did come close to some burning. But the movie thereafter caught me up while I was into my second and final can, and it put me into a lot of the emotion that I seek from Christmas movies.

I unreservedly recommend the movie. And should you be interested, my source was this OK.ru link, and it played flawlessly.

When I peeked downstairs around 9:40 p.m. following the movie, only Bev was still present and watching T.V. It is probably good that she begins indulging in her white wine around 5 p.m., because it surely must dull some of the solitude she has to be feeling as she awaits my brother's homecoming entirely on her own.

She is basically all on her own once he leaves in the early afternoon to go social drinking. All she does until he returns is sit the day long watching T.V. in the living room, having little to do with my youngest stepson or me, nor my wife whenever my wife is home.

But that is not particularly unusual, for I honestly have very little to do with my stepson nor even my wife when she is home. So I feel no compunction to babysit Bev ─ if my brother cannot be bothered, it certainly does not devolve upon me.

Bev does not have to be the self-induced invalid with COPD who will do nothing to better herself. Nothing is wrong with her legs apart from their disuse, whereas I am struggling to regain my own after actual past accidents. It leaves little room for sympathy where her plight is concerned. She is still 59 years old ─ she could do so much to ensure that she will live to progress through that coming decade, but she seems too dense and listless to care to bother.

Just saying resignedly "I know!", and then doing absolutely nothing to change matters does not merit sympathy. She has little time ─ she is going to fast lose whatever dwindling potential she has to reclaim her health and mobility, but she needs to choose to do the work. It is soon going to be impossible, and just saying "I know!" is a pathetic cop-out deserving of no one's sympathy, as I just said. 

But enough of this ─ it is tantamount to mean-mouthing.

I am going to close this post and get to bed well within a half hour. At present it is 10:24 p.m.