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Saturday, December 31, 2016

Eat Eggs Daily to Reduce Stroke Risk │ More Shoddy Statin Research │ Type 2 Diabetes Medication Actos and Bladder Cancer Risk

My younger brother Mark announced last evening that he and his girlfriend Bev would be here this evening to drink in the final hours of 2016.  Consequently, she will be spending the night and thus be here for some of the afternoon tomorrow, I expect.

I'm unsure if I was in bed last night before 12:30 a.m.  Whatever the case, I slept well for the first few hours, and then weathered broken sleep for the remaining hours as a result of restricted breathing.

There were times when the only way I realized that I had derived any sleep was because I could recollect something of a dream.

I certainly do seem to have a wealth of imaginary adventures.  I wish I could remember them vividly.  But the reality is that I cannot even recall a fragment of any of them now.

I finally published the edit I started on December 22 of a January 11, 2012, post at my website My Retirement Dream:  Kota Kinabalu  to Labuan Ferry Schedule.

While I was working on it, my eldest step-son Tho ─ on his way to have a shower late in the morning ─ spoke of how he had some experience with a rodent earlier.  We've known that we have at least one in the house since December 26.

He said that he could hear it scratching about in some shelving above or nearby his bed.  So he investigated, and is now the first of us to have actually seen it ─ the unwanted new resident jumped down and swiftly disappeared from sight.

We shall be acquiring some traps very soon.

At some point in the morning Mark drew my attention to the fact that it was snowing rather heavily; it is 2:29 p.m. at this moment, and the snow has continued ─ sometimes with just small flakes, but at other times the flakes are large.

I took four photos through the living room picture-window just before Mark left for the afternoon.  I will post them in a bit, but first I want to post a collage of our photos that Google created to celebrate this day four years ago:


The photos were taken at a New Year's Eve party that my wife Jack and I attended at the home of Chu Chu & Trent in Vancouver.

I succeeded in tracking down the original photos, so let's lead off with those in the left column.

First up is a photo of my wife Jack with beautiful hostess Chu Chu:


The second photo catches Jack doing one of the things she most loves ─ eating:


Jack took this photo of another couple I don't know:


And now moving over to the column at the right, the first photo has beautiful hostess Chu Chu front and centre, with her husband Trent immediately behind her ─ I cannot identify the ladies on each side of Chu Chu:


The final photo has caught Chu Chu nearly seated upon the floor, and my wife Jack is at the far right ─ I am unable to name any of the other ladies:


And now here are the four photos I took this snowy afternoon of the front view through our living room window:





Google even created a bit of a panoramic photo from three of the pictures:


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Do you eats eggs very often?

It's a shame that most of the eggs in the markets are from caged hens who never get to walk about and scratch around in the ground, and eat live insects and bits of plants and so forth ─ eggs from truly free-range, organically-raised hens are so delicious, and with such rich, almost orange, yolks.

Most people only ever eat watery eggs from sickly birds.

Nevertheless, a study has found that by eating just one measly egg a day, the risk of ever suffering a stroke is reduced by 12%.

And there were other benefits.  But you can read about it for yourself in these reports:

TheSun.co.uk

DailyMail.co.uk

ncbi.nlm.nih.gov

I have long known that if I could have lived somewhere where I had access to all of the wholesome eggs I could ever want ─ along with an abundance of raw milk and raw milk products ─ I would not care if I never again tasted meat, poultry, or fish.

😧😧😧😧😧😧😧

I do not understand why anyone takes statin medication, but I guess it doesn't help to have headlines like the following recent claims:

CNN.com

Express.co.uk

The articles are reporting on a new study.

But let's see what someone who isn't as gullible as the media has to say:

HSIonline.com

We can't seem to find enough things to poison ourselves with.

😧😧😧😧😧😧😧

There is a type 2 diabetes medication called Actos (pioglitazone) that has a host of bad side-effects, one of which is known to be bladder cancer:

Medscape.com

If you or a loved one need type 2 medication and are being prescribed Actos, then you need to read this report:

HSIonline.com


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At this point, I now want to close with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting the small accommodation in a house located on Ninth Street, just a house or two up from Third Avenue.
WEDNESDAY, December 31, 1975

The final day.

I didn't arise till c. 5:11 a.m.

I got a letter finished this morning for Terri.

My $160 welfare cheque came, but I decided not to cash it till Friday.  For one, my complexion isn't its best.  Too, it would waste time.  I have exercises to do, and am sleepy.  I must nap, for I suspect Bill may be around to take me over to Mark's for a New Year's celebration tonight.

I guess around 11:30 a.m. or noon I lied down, only to be awakened about 1:00 p.m. by Mark.  He'd been getting a lot of trouble from Cathy.

Well, I took my time preparing to go out, and it was 2:30 p.m. or so when he took me to the bank.

It was really crowded, but my girl took care of me.

Then to the liquor store.  

I bought a bottle of Ancient Mead honey wine and a mickey of dry gin (total $5.93).

I went home with Mark.  Cathy was bitchy, but took off.

Mark and I watched the Canadiens tie the Russian Reds in a 3-3 hockey game. 

When she came back, she was in a better mood, and went out and bought some Albert's chicken and chips with a bit of cole slaw which we all supped on.

I couldn't contact Bill.

We soon left for Nell's, and Bill showed up right after.

And it began.

In all, present were Nell, Earl, Bruce, Jock, Randy, Sandy, Duck, Billy, Timmy & Wendy, and two girls (Shirley and Donna).

At midnight everyone hugged and kissed each other, and soon after, dancing began.

Randy soon retired, so Sandy tried to dance as many close ones as possible with me.

Wendy asked me up a lot too, which continually surprised me.

Between these two I barely danced with Cathy (who looked pretty good in a tight long red dress), and only had one with the other 2 girls.

I'm not clear on the time at which everyone broke up to bed down, but it was at least 5:00 a.m., and the night was beginning to lighten, I think.

I slept in the front room, flat on my back, with a pillow and a bedspread to cover me.

I could hear Cathy arguing that she was going home if she had to walk, but the others won out. 
The letter I finished composing that morning was to Terri Martin, a U.S. pen-pal.

I worked one day a week as part of an employment initiatives or incentive programme that was in place between New Westminster social services and my employer.  Doing so entitled me to the Single rate for social assistance ─ which I guess was $160 then ─ plus maybe an additional $50. 

My younger brother Mark and his girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther were renting a home together in Whalley ─ the house was on Bentley Road, and very near to the King George Highway & 108th Avenue.

When Jeanette was in her best mood, there was no one as charming and seductive as she could be.  I loved her.

Anyway, after Mark showed up at my room, he undoubtedly offered to take me to the Royal Bank branch on Columbia Street ─ the cheque was affiliated with an account at that bank.  

I had absolutely no photo identification, nor a bank account anywhere.  But there was a young woman working at that branch ─ her name was Mary, I think ─ who always made a point of running interference whenever she noticed me there and having problems getting a cheque negotiated.

She would vouch for me to her co-workers, claiming that she knew me.  If not for her, cheque-cashing would have been a nightmare for me.

I am sorry that I never tried to get to know her, but I was far too backward.

Apparently that hockey game that I watched with Mark was part of the Super Series '76.

The New Year's Eve party Mark, Jeanette, and I later went to was at the home of my maternal Aunt Nell Halverson.  She moved frequently, so I do not now know if she was still living on 64th Avenue near Newton Junior High School there in Surrey.

Anyway, soon after we arrived at her home, my old friend William Alan Gill showed up ─ he lived in a bachelor suite maybe four or so blocks from my room.

As for the list of names I mentioned, Earl was my Aunt Nell's common-law husband; Bruce, Jock (John), and Randy were Nell's sons; Sandy was Randy's wife; Duck was Don Fraser; Billy was probably William Little; Timmy & Wendy were two teenaged children of Nell's; and the two girls were probably sisters Shirley and Donna Montroy. 

Good times!

Except for Jeanette, perhaps.  She wanted to get home the next morning instead of bedding down in the full house, but it seems that the others prevailed. 
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