Northern Lights of Christmas

Two nights ago I discovered that my cellphone alarm was indicating itself to be sounding over 1¼ hours after I had set it to alert me, but it was completely silent. Unfortunately I still do not know if that was just some sort of fluke and it actually works ─ it does sound when a call comes in ─ for last night after waking up somewhere between 1 - 1:30 a.m., I decided to cancel the alarm because I felt too seriously in need of sleep to be getting up at 3 a.m.

So maybe tonight.

I had considered risking my bad right leg on a walk to a nearby pharmacy for its 8 a.m. opening this morning ─ the walk would have been a round trip of about a mile ─ but I demurred due to a deep-seated Christian conviction that just could not ignore the negativity of engaging in commerce on Good Friday, even though I strongly suspect that Good Friday has nothing to do with the actual or true anniversary of Christ's death nor resurrection.

I should have better prepared myself with some research, for in my 20s (back in the 1970s) I was far better versed in this sort of thing. Had I done the research and seen it verified that Good Friday is almost as irrelevant to the death or resurrection of Jesus as is December 25 to his birth, I might have managed to make the shopping attempt.

I did rise around 5:30 a.m., but only for an hour or so. I fast burned out here at my bedside computer and thus returned to bed until maybe 8 a.m. when I rose in the mistaken belief that my younger brother was downstairs watching T.V.

He actually never emerged from his bedroom until at least 9:30 a.m. by which time I had already watched one video on T.V. via our Android TV Box ─ a 19-minute (19:34) video published two days ago to Rumble's Danload channel: Update on the ostrich farm Part 1 April 16 2025.

Update on the ostrich farm speaking with the RCMP holding dialog with other boots on the ground activist Jim Kerr Ron Clark Farrell Segall spread the message far ans wide I can share anything!! Much love please come here support this family farm! Much love!
Bigbear

My brother was in time to watch a 17-minute (17:21) video published yesterday to YouTube's AnitaK channel: My Jaw Literally Dropped! A debate aftermath mashup.

Next I tuned in Odessa Orlewicz's latest video, but before quite reaching the nine-minute mark of the 25-minute (25:45) video published yesterday to Rumble's Libertytalkcanada channel, I cancelled out of it. I find Odessa's videos wherein she just reads from articles to be such a crashing bore that I zone right out and cannot pay attention at all. For me, they are a waste of my time. I have less interest in being read to as a captive audience than I do of reading the same articles ─ which I am capable of doing. So instead of racking up a video count just by reading articles, quit wasting our time and just post links to them and allow us to decide if we want to look at the material.

I am no longer going to watch those of her videos if all she is going to do is 'read stuff'.

After that I tuned in a far better video not too very much shy of 1¼ hours (1:12:34) streamed two days ago to Rumble's Tucker Carlson channel: Maxime Bernier: Trump’s Tariffs, Mass Immigration, and the Oncoming Canadian Revolution.

It’s hard to overstate how dystopian and threatening Canada has become. An update from longtime Canadian government official Maxime Bernier.

I will never vote for a Conservative, so Maxime has my vote, futile though it may be.

Our final video was over half of what was left of one we had begun yesterday. But it proved to be a bore, alas. At nearly an hour (58:52), it had been uploaded January 21, 2020, to YouTube's Talasbuan channel: Off grid log cabin building.

Episode fifty-five, in which we're building with timber

I know nothing about carpentry. Yet from before the video's 12-minute mark, practically the entirety of what remained of the video was the host chipping away and shaving wood with various tools, as well as powersawing, and occasionally trying to explain what he was doing when this non-carpenter viewer understood little of what intention he was describing.

My brother gave up in annoyance with me for not cancelling out and went on back up to his bedroom for further bed rest. At the time I was busy creating my day's first meal ─ two slices of organic whole grain bread with butter, natural peanut butter, raspberry jam, a saskatoon jam that seemed a cross between a jelly and a preserve, and some extra old cheddar cheese.

Fortunate it was that I had been doing that because my brother's entry to his bedroom quickly resulted in Bev's emergence to do nothing else but watch T.V. for the remainder of her day.

So I jumped through the boring video and finally closed out of it, and will not bother with it again. I hope there are no future videos in the series like it, for my brother and I almost always enjoy the channel.

I had the meal I did because there were no longer any of my wife's cooking left over, and because I am running out of resources because of having been unable to shop ever since my accident just ahead of 4:30 a.m. March 1st.

Anyway, before my early afternoon nap, my brother was to leave for a bus so that he could engage his essential daily social drinking that preludes getting plastered. I had my nap, and emerged to discover that my wife was home. She was busy with both some cooking and some gardening.

However, she never spoke a word to me, so I returned the favour. I wish I knew what lurked in her heart for me. If more darkness than anything else, then I really see no need of prolonging life together here in this house. I may as well push my brother for us to sell, and I can go my own way for however long may be left to me.

Somewhere around 4:15 - 4:30 p.m. this rather sunny and warm day that saw me stuck indoors the whole while, my wife left wordlessly. I thought it possible that she was gone for the day, for it was too late for her to have had to work.

I managed some exercising of my bad leg, mostly in her vacant bedroom. And then around 5:40 p.m. when I believed to have heard Bev go outside for a smoke break, I hobbled downstairs while I could do so unobserved by her, intent on getting a helping of whatever my wife had cooked.

To my disappointment, the meal was incomplete, with various uncooked items still on the counter and only a pot of a couple of boiled meaty bones of some kind with maybe slices of ginger in the plenteous juice.

So I grabbed an apple to have on hand and escaped back upstairs.

Then at 5:48 p.m. I heard someone other than Bev come into the house ─ my wife had returned, but as yet she had not brought home any conversation. Not for me thus far, at any rate.

It is presently 5:54 p.m., and I am going to break from this post to watch a much needed feel-good Christmas movie while enjoying two ─ if not three ─ of the remaining six cans of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol) that I have to my name. In so doing, I will be shutting myself up here in my bedroom. It is clear that no one here has need of access to me.

★★★

My movie choice was 2018's Northern Lights of Christmas.

I put away two cans of Cariboo Malt; and building sentiment did finally erupt or dissolve me into tears at the wonderfully sappy feature's conclusion.

Lead actress Ashley Williams did look familiar ─ no doubt from at least one other Christmas movie. Her smile continuously reminded me of another actress whose identity kept eluding me, but I finally reckoned it to be Cybill Shepherd. I probably wrote of that before, I bet.

Ashley is going to have to work at not developing 'jowls', nor getting too gaunt in the face, for she has four smile 'wrinkles' in back of her lips at her cheeks that are probably going to be a big concern as she ages ─ at one point in a close-up the ones on her left almost resembled gills.

But she's a darned beautiful woman, and fills out a sweater or a pair of black denims wondrously!

If interested ─ and I sure do recommend the movie ─ my flawless source was this OK.ru link.

I was done with the movie well before 8 p.m., but only Bev and possibly my youngest stepson seemed home. Twice when it seemed Bev might be outside smoking, I attempted to hobble downstairs to fetch some of whatever my wife may have cooked, feeling a little hurt that my wife had gone again.

But both times, I noticed just in time Bev slinking about in the kitchen.

It was infuriating, but I hobbled back upstairs to my bedroom as fast as it was possible for me, fuming.

Note that my anger was not solely against Bev, although this time it was; but I would have been angry had it been my stepson or my brother haunting the kitchen. I just didn't want anything to do with anyone.

Still, it spoiled the effect of the Christmas movie, putting me into a downer mood.

And with Bev haunting the downstairs, I was not even able to investigate if my wife had really gone, or if she was just napping in her bedroom. Later nigh 9:25 p.m. I was to hear her bustle forth from her bedroom and go downstairs, so she had been here all the while.

I did, by the way, get some supper on a third try, so I was able to have that here at my bedside computer, enjoying the apple as my dessert.

Around 9:35 p.m. Bev turned off the T.V. and repaired to the bedroom to watch T.V. there. By this point in the evening she becomes markedly more enfeebled due to the quantity of white wine she has been imbibing since the latter afternoon, so she realizes that without my brother home to babysit her self-imposed disablement, it is best to be safely secure upstairs in their bedroom.

My brother will be besotted, so I have no desire nor intention to associate with him once he is home.

I expect that I will most likely seek to rise at 3 a.m. for one of my six-block walks for the sake of my bad leg, so I oughtn't remain up for too much longer despite my wife being home. I had thought of having one more beer while watching an episode of one of the shows I follow, but it seems a waste of the beer.

This is no life worth living.

Enough said for today at 9:50 p.m.