If I am remembering, 'twas just past midnight when I got to bed last night ─ that exceedingly bums me out. Why the Hell can't I seem to get to bed as early as I want or intend?
My cellphone alarm was set for 6 a.m. and did indeed rouse me, for this morning ─ the Labour Day holiday ─ was my last shot at some grocery shopping until next weekend, and I already skipped last weekend. Two is unthinkable, so I was desperate.
After I rose, I had to wait here in my bedroom until my youngest stepson finished a shower ─ no way I can water the front yard garden plants without that necessary urinary relief.
It always takes a long time getting that watering of the flowers completed.
Then out to the backyard tool shed for some pull-ups and chin-ups, having missed out yesterday.
It was to take some while before I could withstand that painful strain each time I attempted to begin elevating my bodyweight. How can I be degrading so badly now that I am in my mid-70s? This is crushing.
When I could finally push through the painful discomfort, I led with three sets of pull-ups (3-2-2 reps), three sets of chin-ups (2-2-2 reps), and two sets of pull-ups between a pair of bars (2-2 reps). I held a dead hang after the very last pull-up for a 50-count.
I forwent the 31 squats I usually perform to challenge my damaged right knee because I did not wish to incapacitate myself for the mile-long round trip walk to No Frills that opens at 8 a.m.
I was most displeased to come into the house and discover that it was already at least 7:03 a.m.
I was later to become furiously vexed around 7:50 a.m. as I was readying in my bedroom for my venture when I heard my younger brother moving all about in his bedroom ─ he was getting set to emerge and go downstairs to watch TV and drink coffee.
I detest anyone being privy to my goings, but there was going to be no choice about it. Often something like this is enough for me to yield and call off an outing, but this one seemed indispensable.
I even had a heavily overcast morning ─ not a brilliantly deterring sunny one.
It was just a few minutes past 8 a.m. when I was all set to go, so downstairs I hobbled and had the brief unavoidable interaction with my brother as I worked my way to the front door.
I performed my shopping errand, but I had to refrain from buying several items because of the heavy load I already had in my shopping basket. This is why I like to have two shopping days on a weekend.
It was almost 9 a.m. by the time I was back; and yes, walking was slow and undeniably challenging. I'm 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀ℯ𝒹 for life, I fear.
Anyway, I joined my brother around 9:10 a.m. at which time he was eager enough to turn the T.V. over to me so that I could start operation of our Android TV Box.
And so I led us off with a 47-minute (47:31) video published August 29 to BitChute's ManInAmerica channel: IT DOESN'T ADD UP: The Trans Shooter's Story Is FULL of Holes.
The narrative around the recent school shooting is suspicious beyond belief. Why do documents suggest the shooter’s parents might not even be his real parents? Why was the father tied to defense contracts with the DoD? Add to that the uncanny predictive programming in a recent film, and an ominous warning Bill Cooper gave decades ago, and the picture becomes far darker than the media wants to admit. In this episode, we peel back the layers of deception and ask the questions no one else will.
After that came a six-minute (6:12) video uploaded April 18, 2020, to YouTube's Talasbuan channel: Off Grid Home Birth.
This is Ivar, being born in the safety of our homeThat was surprising ─ I never expected the couple to show ... that much.
Another video watched was 16 minutes (16:51) and had been uploaded September 7, 2023, to YouTube's Native Journals channel: History Of The Lakota Nation: Warriors of the Great Plains.
The description is more bombast than explanatory in that it does not tell precisely what the video is about, so I am not reproducing it.
There were two videos I now cannot track down, but one was a narrated slideshow of historical photos, and the other was a witness account with excellent reenactments of a 2007 murder ─ oh, wait! I located the latter video ─ it was the first episode of a 'true crime' series called Home Alone. The video can be found at this OK.ru link: Home Alone S01E01 ~ Portrait of a Stalker.
The only other video I can recall was 12 minutes (12:18), and had been uploaded February 14, 2016, to YouTube's Proper Gander channel: Henry Kissinger: A War Criminal? A brief look at the other side of Henry Kissinger.
Considering the brevity of the video content, I refuse to reproduce the lengthy description.
It is 7:20 p.m. right now, so I am going to take a break to watch at least one show while enjoying a Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol).
I could have sunned this afternoon, but perhaps foolishly I opted not to. I am banking on several more days of even better sunbathing afternoons.
⭕⭕⭕
First up I watched Crisis ─ episode six ("Here He Comes") of its only season. Good stuff!
My source was this GOOJARA.to link.
I found thereafter (around 8:15 p.m.) that my brother was home from wherever he had earlier bused away to social drink ─ I think that he was already passed out in his chair.
I succeeded Crisis with The Avengers ─ episode one ("The Forget-Me-Knot") of the sixth season.
I already knew that this was the episode in which Diana Rigg left the series and in which Linda Thorson was going to be introduced as her replacement, so there were a few times when I felt some nostalgic twinges.
I adored Linda, but Diana was John Steed's partner with whom I was in love for two full years. Only Marilyn Monroe somewhat later matched that attraction for such a duration.
I was societally on the fringe, as may be surmised.
I shall not be pursuing the series any further, as much as I delighted in Linda and her successor Joanna Lumley, although I am still watching season three with my brother because I had never before watched Honor Blackman back in the 1960s before Diana Rigg's Emma Peel came onto the scene.
My source for this episode was this OK.ru link, even though I knew that it was available at Archive.org.
As usual it is already well past 10 p.m. for my planned early rise to have an outing to the elementary school playground, so I shall be setting my cellphone alarm for no earlier than 3:30 a.m.
I wanted to watch a sitcom and have some wine, but time hates me. Right now 'tis 10:20 p.m., so I absolutely have to start shutting things down.
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