Wild Blood

I am pretty sure that I was to bed last evening by 10:30 p.m., and with my cellphone alarm set for 3 a.m. to get me up for an outing over to the nearby elementary school playground for the ¾-mile round trip hobble as well as the playground exercise; yet sleep was to become a problem and I found myself checking the time at something like 2:14 a.m.

I was far too short on sleep to dare to rise then, so I tried unsuccessfully for a half hour to return to dreamland before regretfully choosing to cancel the alarm.

I lay in bed for maybe 10 minutes and then rose, struggling with myself about this horrible dilemma that of late keeps me home when I know that I need to be trying for therapeutic walks.

After another 10 minutes, I saw no alternative but to just go back to bed after re-setting the alarm for 6 a.m. so that I could at least seek to have time enough to normalize and get in some backyard tool shed exercising before my younger brother rose for the morning.

When the 6 a.m. alarm sounded, I did feel more slept than was the case at 3 a.m., and everything proceeded thereafter as desired, except that my ability at pull-ups and chin-ups has declined. The relevant anatomical structures for those exercises were too stiffened and sore to allow more than a single repetition in all six sets that I perform out there.

It bloody sucks to be a 76-year-old cripple when there is still a younger man inhabiting this failing form.

My brother was to make his appearance around his usual time of 8:30 a.m. or so, but I never went downstairs to join him at the T.V. until around 9:10 a.m.

At his invitation to put our Android TV Box to work, the first video I tuned in exceeded an hour (1:08:51), but he never even watched more than five minutes of it before complaining and then leaving the room. I had tuned it in hoping that he would watch it for Bev's sake if not his own, for she suffers from COPD.

The video had been published November 29 to Rumble's WTFLouie channel: This Explains COPD, How ,Why and What To Do About It 29-Nov-2025.

If he can't be bothered, why should I?

So I cancelled out of it and tuned in a 19-minute (19:09) video published yesterday to BitChute's THE DARK TRUTH channel: THE TRUTH ABOUT TURBO CANCERS FROM VACCINES AND HOW IVERMECTIN STOPS IT IN ITS TRACKS.

You have been lied to about all the Cancers and other diseases (Millions of People) around the world.
The cure for Cancer, Diabetes, Parkinson's, Alzheimer's and so many more diseases have been hidden since you were born.
Watch the video and know that Ivermectin will cure you.
Ivermectin won the Nobel Prize in 2015 and doctors are not permitted to talk about this product for fear of losing their medical license.
The medical establishment does not want to heal you ..... they want you permanently attached to Big Pharma and their fake drugs because there's no money to be made with the true wonder drug Ivermectin.
WATCH AND LEARN!!

That video was followed with Soldier Soldier ─ episode five ("Battlefields") of the first season or series.

And we finished up with more of the 1962 black & white movie we began yesterday, but once again had to suspend it so that my brother could return to his bedroom for further bed rest.

We're now only a little more than half way through the nigh two-hour feature.

My wife never had to work today, but she did head off somewhere around 10:30 a.m. It was very lightly raining, as it had been when I was exercising in the tool shed earlier. She returned in the latter noon hour just after I had finished eating and was taking my dishes to the kitchen to wash.

I took my nap just after 1 p.m. ─ 1:10 p.m., actually ─ and was abed a bit under an hour. My brother had meantime gone off on some errand, returning close to mid-afternoon. But it wasn't late enough to keep him from again leaving for a bus to take him social drinking.

There was to be no exercising in my wife's bedroom for me today. She did eventually leave us at 4:55 p.m., but by then it was dark ─ I cannot exercise in her bedroom with the glaring unshielded light burning. I only do so when daylight illuminates the room.

Tomorrow at 3 a.m. I plan once again to get up and make that hobble over to the elementary school playground, so this time I am going to ensure that I am to bed by 10 p.m. at very latest.

🟥🟥🟥

Following a very light supper, desirous of some alcohol and entertainment, I tuned in FBI: Most Wanted here on my bedside computer; specifically, it was episode six ("Fouled Out") of season five. My source was this GOOJARA.to link.

And down went one can of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) to help banish some of whatever I was feeling.The show finished just ahead of 7:30 p.m., and as yet my brother hadn't returned.

Prior to tuning in the episode, I had attempted to hang a long string of Christmas lights from my small bedroom's ceiling fan, but the scheme just doesn't help with the goal of Christmas spirit. I can't see the lights when I am seated at my computer; but once the bedroom light is turned off, the Christmas lights are so concentrated that it's nearly like having a very weak ceiling light on ─ maybe a 20 watt or something. It interferes with my immersion and commitment into whatever I am watching on my computer.

This sucks.

Not so incidentally, George C. ─ a former co-worker from my Transport Canada days whom I have known for over 25 years ─ surprised me with the delivery today in the mail of a Christmas card. The guy is so damned dear. He is as much into Christmas as I would be if I was on my own.

Another beer and show were in order, so I tuned in Blood Ties ─ episode two ("Wild Blood") of season two. My source was this GOOJARA.to link ─ yeah, another one.

I got more involved in this show than the FBI story. And I vaguely remember the teeniest bit of it ─ the scene at the end in the parking lot. I probably watched it once while deep into drink back when the series was current.

The episode was over just ahead of 8:45 p.m. ─ still no brother.

He never showed up until probably 9:15 - 9:20 p.m. or so whilst I was engaged brushing my teeth. I wanted to see what sort of time might be left to my evening once I was done ─ time enough for a sitcom and a shot of booze?

But no ─ I would not be to bed by 10 p.m. had I gambled on the time.

And right now it is 9:47 p.m., so I am going to publish this post and smartly get to bed for 3 a.m.