My wife had come home before I had quite gotten to bed last evening, but I remained behind my closed bedroom, and so we never saw one another nor communicated.
When my 3 a.m. cellphone alarm sounded, it definitely roused me, but I did not feel any fallout for having topped my usual can of strong beer with a glass tumbler of red wine last evening. At least I believe that I was to bed a bit ahead of 10:30 p.m.
Since my only cash on hand has been $15 since shopping on Monday with my younger brother's assist, I decided to hike the ¾ or better of a mile to my financial institution's nearest ATM and then have any exercising at the elementary school playground on my return trip, for the school is approximately at the halfway mark.
As I had remarked late into yesterday's post, there was evidence that it had rained a few hours earlier, but everything had pretty much dried off. I only recall noticing a few damp areas on pavement.
Enlightenment struck me during my walk that the reason I have such difficulty and instability upon my feet is not so much the atrophying that seems to have occurred with my quadriceps muscles of my damaged right leg; rather, it is due to whatever has gone awry that will no longer allow me to fully extend my lower leg. I have no problem elevating the leg, but the lower leg droops a couple inches from the knee, angling downward.
It is this absence of lower leg facility that always has my balance precarious, and makes walking down slopes of any degree to be distinctly difficult. Basically, my lower leg has a 'dead zone' of a couple or so inches in which it is entirely useless, and I have to ensure that I avoid accessing this presently insurmountable weakness when I am walking
I have tried to Google variations of "lower leg droop", but all the damned results are about "foot drop" ─ I am so pissed off at having those useless results thrust upon me when it has nothing to do with the condition I want! There is nothing πΏππΌπππ' wrong with my foot nor my ankle ─ my whole πΏππΌπππ' lower leg droops right from the underside or base of the kneecap!
If I wanted to know about "foot drop", I would search that ─ I'm not so damned stupid that I would search "lower leg droop" if I had a foot alone that was sagging at the ankle!
Whatever the case, I was especially slow and awkward with my walk due to the weakened state of my knee / lower quadriceps architecture following the discovery late yesterday afternoon that I could ─ with consistent practice and attempts ─ finally manage to do complete flat-footed squats without using my arms to support me on anything; and I could rise from the squats unassisted as well.
Mind, I could only manage one, and then I would have to wait a minute or more before attempting another. But unassisted, I have not been able to do much more than slightly angle my thigh / femur downward from the horizontal in squat attempts.
I suffered the pile-drive of my knee onto a mat-covered cement floor on March 1st.
The effort last afternoon had left my kneecap area markedly swollen, but achieving that range of movement had to have been a breakthrough in rehabilitative terms. Sure, there was some great discomfort for a couple of inches in approaching the lowermost descent of the squat, and similar great discomfort in seeking to rise past that same point; but I don't know if I would exactly call it "pain".
Maybe I just have a high threshold.
My performance at the jungle gym monkey bars and the gymnastics-style rings was identical to that of two nights earlier. That is, with a 30-count between sets, two and then one pull-up as my first two sets; then two and then one chin-ups in my third and fourth sets; and on the rings, I could do no better than pull myself high enough to get my upper arms horizontal in each of the two tries I made that comprised a set apiece.
Yet I was able to do a pull-up as a final set back on a pair of the monkey bars; and I held the full descent for a 70-count. Holding a hang for that long begins to concern me that either I am constricting my heart from properly beating, or else less seriously I am hampering the use of my lungs.
Regardless, as already said, all of this was a duplication of two nights ago. The only improvement was that I managed three full-range decline push-ups on a cement ramp ─ one more than two nights ago.
Back home, it was almost 6 a.m. before I got back to bed. I don't easily sleep after these outings anyway.
By the way, I had withdrawn $200 at the ATM I had walked to.
My morning began after 8 a.m. ─ I can only guess now, so let's say 8:18 a.m.
My brother was tardy emerging from his bedroom, so I took possession of the T.V. after 9 a.m. ─ he never made his appearance until something like 9:30 a.m.
To kill time, I had tuned in a 32-minute (32:29) video published two days ago to Rumble's JunoNews channel: Preston Manning: Mark Carney will be Canada’s LAST Prime Minister.
On today’s episode of the Candice Malcolm Show, Candice interviews former Leader of the Opposition Preston Manning on the issue of Western Independence. Preston Manning made it clear that the biggest threat to Canada is not President Trump, it’s Western dissatisfaction with Canada.
My brother was to watch most of that video.
Then I tuned in two from YouTube's AnitaK channel:
- Uploaded May 14, 2025: What Carney really wants to do with oil, gas and coal + Danielle Smith strikes back. (15:13)
- Uploaded today: Mayor Moonbeam Gregor fails upward in Carney cabinet. (14:32)
We finished up with the 1959 movie that we hadn't quite finished viewing the first half of on Monday morning: North by Northwest. Both of us have probably watched it before at some time or another when we were younger, but nothing remained in recollection except the famous two scenes involving the crop-dusting bi-plane, and the Mount Rushmore action sequence.
Wow! Lead actress Eva Marie Saint celebrated her 100th birthday last year on July 4th!
If you have the interest, my December 20, 2024, published source for the movie was BitChute's TrueMoviesMan channel: ♑⚪rt♓By♑⚪rt♓w€st (1959).
What makes no sense to me in the movie plot is why agent Eve Kendall sought to set up Carey Grant's character to have him murdered in the wide-open country? She didn't seek to talk him out of going ─ she arranged absolutely everything involved in getting him there, totally isolated. He was no action figure ─ it made total sense that he would have been killed. So why did she do it?
At my age of 75, I am heavily into nostalgia ─ especially in view of what has become of our world today. I would have been nine years old when the movie was released ─ unless it had been released at or after my October birthday, in which case I would have been 10. So the movie was to appear often enough on T.V. over my teen years and into my 20s.
The movie's conclusion around 11:45 a.m. was my brother's cue to return to his bedroom for bed rest. I had a fast meal of fare my wife had brought home last evening from the Thai restaurant where she works part-time, and then I was to my own bed for a nap which did not prove long enough, for I rose feeling little refreshed. My day's third and final mug of instant coffee was well needed.
My wife turned out to have today off work. She rose while I was napping and must have gone off to do some shopping and / or whatever else. When she got back, she was delightfully cheery, quipping as she passed by my bedroom where I sat here at my bedside computer, "Hello! Long time no see!"
'Tis true. I have always been shut up in my bedroom whenever she has come home in the evenings. I last sat up watching shows with my brother back on May 5th. So she and I have not seen one another to speak of, apart from when she has had to rush off to work after showering and otherwise freshening up on her full workdays.
She proved to be so accommodating late this afternoon that ─ following a bath I had ─ she had me go out to the backyard sundeck where she actually clipped my toenails! It has been years since she has offered this service.
While performing that service, she goaded me to solicit a rental contribution from Bev, who spends her days sitting in the living room watching T.V. until she goes to bed in the evening after having drunk her fill of her white wine ─ usually begun around 5 p.m., but sometimes earlier.
However, my brother is the reason she was moved in here ─ this is a discussion the two of them must have. And maybe they would have such a discussion if he did not feel he absolutely must leave by mid-afternoon at latest every single day to catch public transit and go social drinking, leaving Bev here with the T.V. for company. When he returns, he is generally besotted.
My wife also said that she spoke with my brother, she suggesting to him that one day we will all have to visit his daughter in Washington State, and see her first child (born May 8, I believe) when the boy has had time to develop further.
That was interesting to me!
Anyway, a while after I had bathed and had my 'pedicure', she had a shower; and then not much after 6 p.m. left us. I am not expecting that she will be returning for probably a couple or so days.
Due to this being a bath day for me, and having her home until just past 6 p.m., I felt myself with too scant time for any further exercising today. And so I had a small supper primarily based around fare of my wife.
I wanted to mention that the morning was overcast; but once again the afternoon became uselessly sunny, for I need a full sunny day in order to gear myself up for any sunning ─ did I happen to have any such inclination.
Concerning my bath, stripped naked for it, I weighed in at maybe 175 pounds.
It is 7:36 p.m. at this moment. I am now going to take a break from this post.
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My brother arrived home fairly close to 8:30 p.m. His usual routine is to come upstairs to his bedroom to change his clothes, which he did ─ offering a "Hey!" as he first passed by my open bedroom doorway.
He changed clothes, and then went back downstairs to join Bev. That was all I required ─ I shut my bedroom door and found a source for Prodigal Son ─ penultimate episode 12 ("Sun and Fun") of the second and final season.
What a dynamic episode!
Bellamy Young is just gorgeously seductive as Malcolm's mother, but Catherine Zeta-Jones is incredibly sensuous as the diabolically loony prison M.D. In fact, she was so effectively lunatic that she got creepy; and that unwordly screeching she did after using a scalpel on herself and then feigning being a victim of "the Surgeon" was almost more than I could take ─ I couldn't listen long to a woman capable of that decibel-level of noise.
I found it a little curious that she is a little under five months older than Bellamy Young.
When I was a teen or into my earliest 20s and in love with Marilyn Monroe for about two years, I thought that it was almost beyond belief that a woman could look as beautiful as her at the age of 36 when she died ─ it barely seemed humanly possible. She was old enough to have birthed me!
Little did I know that they could be irresistibly sexy on into their 50s ─ even to someone as young as I was back then! There just wasn't an Internet making their exposure so easily known to the general public. For example, I could have watched this very episode back then, but never have known the ages of these two actresses because I had no means of doing so.
Anyway, what is now in store with the finale episode? I almost want to read about it, but I shall not.
I quite badly want to watch something else so that I can drink a little more and longer, but I will be running the risk that Bev will depart the living room and my brother will then enlist me as her replacement.
I have no interest in that.
And thus I shall contain myself, winding things down and getting to bed in short order. Right now it is 10;10 p.m.
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