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Friday, June 22, 2018

Various Musings and Recollections

After an early publication of yesterday's post, I went out into the backyard to benefit from some sunshine that had developed after an overcast morning and early afternoon. I spent a half-hour seated in a lawn- or deck-chair while I was clad in just a pair of cutoffs, and facing directly toward the Sun ─ very little of that time saw the Sun obscured by cloud.

As I recall, that session commenced at 4:01 p.m.

I spent the tail-end of the afternoon and the very early part of the evening just vegetating on my bed, killing time until I felt like turning on the T.V..

My wife Jack was working in Langley at her friend Fanta's Thai restaurant, so I was expecting her home late into the evening. Had that not been so, I would have abandoned my drunken brother Mark after he arrived home around 7:30 p.m., for he was soon passed out in his chair in the living room after I had tuned in the premiere episode of the T.V. series Reverie.

I knew something of what the series was to be about, but I didn't know who was acting in it. I could recognize the actress portraying the main character, but it took me a little while to place her ─ which is to say, I did not know her name, but I knew her to be from a recent T.V. series.

The actress is the beautiful Sarah Shahi, I see from the Wikipedia article that I linked to concerning Reverie.

Although I would never have been able to recollect her name, I at least remembered that I was aware of its similarity to the character that she played when she became a regular cast member of the series Person of Interest in its last four seasons ─ her character was Sameen Shaw in that series.

Or at least to me, Shahi and Shaw seemed rather similar.

She's still in very good shape!

Mark revived long enough to watch most of the episodes of the next two series I tuned in; and then once more he passed out, this time for much of the fourth series, Absentia. But I would have tuned out of Reverie had I not been expecting my wife Jack to be coming home later.

The Terrarium application on our Android TV Box would have probably remembered where I had left off with Reverie, and then given me the option of resuming the episode when next I called it back up; so it is not really an issue to cancel out of a show I am watching if Mark's presence is so unpalatable from alcohol that I prefer not to bear him for that evening.

He does not understand how to operate the Terrarium application, nor even the Android TV Box itself. He would have to occupy his evening with whatever he could find on the basic cable channels ─ we do not subscribe to have any of the perceived premium channels that are offered in various packages beyond the basic free ones.

At one point when he was conscious and was in the kitchen, my youngest stepson Poté came home with his girlfriend Aneet, and Mark engaged Poté in some conversation. From overhearing it, I see that Poté no longer works for a Nike outlet where he had a stock manager position.

He gave it up for a job that pays two or three dollars more per hour ─ he mans a telephone line at a CIBC call centre in downtown Vancouver, fielding calls related to the bank's VISA credit card.

His girlfriend had also worked at the Nike outlet and has made the same job switch.

I would have hated the call centre job ─ and it's shift work, since the call lines are active 24 hours a day.

Incidentally, my wife Jack today told me that when Poté and his girlfriend had gone to work sometime last week ─ they carpool, of course ─ her car was victimized in broad daylight wherever it had been parked. The back window had been smashed, and several items stolen, including a backpack of Poté's and her laptop.

But back to last night. Mark gave up trying to watch anymore T.V. around midnight, and hauled himself upstairs to his bedroom to spend the night.

Jack was still up, and not yet showing signs of getting to bed. Nevertheless, I turned off the T.V. and went outside to water plants in our front yard.

After that, I killed some time here at my computer while I waited for her to free up the bathroom so I could use it before getting to bed. As it was to happen, we merely switched places, for she wanted to use the computer to access her Facebook account.

It was 1:13 a.m. by the time I was in bed. And even though I was still awake ─ with blindfold and earplugs in place ─ when she later came to bed, I never bothered to see what the time was.

I woke a few times overnight, but kept managing to resume some further sleep ─ I tend to spend the night in a series of naps, rather than as a solid block of sleep. It was 5:25 a.m. when I made a time check once it was daylit outside, and that was when I rose to commence my day.

Yes, I was still feeling very short on sleep, but I wanted to get cracking at adding more content into the post I am compiling at my website Latin Impressions. I wanted to add at least a further average morning's quota of content ─ this typically requires anywhere from two to as much as three hours.

My eldest stepson Tho soon rose after I was at my computer, and after spending time in the bathroom and then finishing up his preparations in the kitchen, he headed off to work.

I kept waiting for Poté and his girlfriend to get up and take off, but they never did. This was becoming annoying, because I wanted to seek a needed nap in Tho's bed after I had finished the work I wanted to get done on the post; but I would have to pass by within sight of Poté's bed to get to where Tho sleeps, and I did not wish anyone to be privy to my destination.

(I was later to learn that they did not spend the night here, and thus were not even home.) 

The morning was rather heavily overcast, but it was still quite warm here in the house.

Once I had the work completed that I sought to get done at Latin Impressions, I wanted to take the opportunity to get the nine or so minutes of exercise over with that I try to tackle each day out in the backyard tool-shed.

Pull-ups lead off that session ─ four sets of them, in fact. Yesterday I had disappointed myself by failing by one repetition in the fourth set to reach the target number that I require of myself.

I had to compensate by doing an additional equal set that day.

This morning, I fell short on both the third and the fourth sets, so I felt obliged to force out an extra two matching sets.

I honestly do not know if I am becoming overworked at the performance of pull-ups, or if my body is just too sapped from improper sleep and recent oppressively warm temperatures.

It's discouraging, though. It made me even more assured that I have probably lived too long. I am 68 years old, and see no reason to live this pointless life that I have, too very far beyond my 70th birthday.

It is bad enough to feel as lonely and debt-ridden as I do, but it is probably worse to also feel that I have become old ─ there are too many physical dysfunctions taking place that ought not to be.

Simply said, it is all becoming too much burden to bear.

Anyway, I had no sooner come back into the house than my wife Jack rose ─ it was not yet 8:30 a.m. There would be no early nap for me.

I knew that she probably had to work today ─ her normal schedule has her putting in Fridays at her friend Ui's Thai restaurant in Vancouver. However, that is an afternoon start.

And so the morning began to wear on. Once Mark rose, we watched some T.V. ─ I tuned in the final episode of the 1990 documentary series The Civil War. And then we watched episodes of two different comedies.

By then the morning was about done, and Mark was ready for his nap. I didn't need to feel too envious ─ Jack quickly displayed preparations underway for her departure.

And then quite early into the noon-hour, I saw her off on her drive to Vancouver. She surprised me, though, by saying that she might be back sometime tomorrow. Normally, the earliest she usually makes her return is deep into Sunday ─ and very often not until late Monday evening.

She can still be a delightful presence for me ─ make no mistake. But I sure do tend to sleep better when I have the bed to myself.

Also, if I do not have to sit up awaiting her homecoming on any particular evening, then I am free to leave Mark to himself if he proves to be unbearably besotted.

But with Jack away this noon-hour, I finished up the meal I had been enjoying before finally getting to bed at 12:57 p.m. for that sorely-needed nap.

I believe that I spent just over 1½ hours in 'the sack.'

My eldest stepson Tho had come home early from work just as I was shutting myself up into my bedroom. When I later emerged from it after my nap, I was to find myself home alone.

Incidentally, part of that meal I had (just before my nap) included approximately ⅔ or even ¾ of a can of my strong (8% alcohol) beer. Jack had presented the open can to me, stating that she had needed some beer for one of the dishes she had been preparing for the household.

That could only have assisted me in that nap!

As I type this now, the latter afternoon has become a mix of some Sun and cloud. I considered suspending work on this post to go and sit out in the backyard, but I discarded the prospect. It is better that I just deal with this post and be done.

Now concerning my website Latin Impressions. It is one of six hosted websites that I have ─ I think it was back in early 2010 that I began getting involved with this sort of thing.

But Latin Impressions has always been the weakest of them where visitor-counts are concerned ─ often in a 28-day period, it was not a rare thing to see that half of those days did not have even one visitor. It was so very bad that I considered it a success if during any of those 28-day spreads, there were days in which there had at least been a single visitor ─ it was so much better than seeing the count for the day as being entirely vacant.

But as of June 13, something unusual has begun to take place at the website ─ the visitor-count has increased dramatically. On that day, for example, there were 86 visitors listed as having arrived. And there were 77 the following day.

Since then, the count continues to be strong.

The only difference that I can come up with to account for it might be a membership I took on a little over two months ago with Russia's Yandex ─ I had long had memberships with Google, Yahoo, and Bing wherein my six websites had been registered and 'recognized' by them.

Whatever the reason for the increased visitor tally, it is so gratifying ─ those vacant days were crushing to see time and again. I just hope that it is not some fluke.

On a possibly related note where Latin Impressions is concerned, this morning I receive six warning messages from Wordfence that were headlined "Increased Attack Rate" ─ I have the Wordfence plugin on each of my six websites.

I only subscribe to the free service, but it still offers excellent security protection.

The six messages Wordfence sent me this morning arrived between 9:05 a.m. and 9:41 a.m., and each was warning of the same thing but with a different figure being quoted ─ for instance, this is the message I received at 9;31 a.m.:
The Wordfence Web Application Firewall has blocked 151 attacks over the last 10 minutes. Below is a sample of these recent attacks:
And then there would be a list of 10 or so jargon-specialized descriptions that don't say anything much to me at all. However, apparently Wordfence was blocking something known as SQL injection attacks ─ that Wikipedia article I linked to is far more than I care to try and fathom, so don't expect a condensed summary of it from me.

The attacks all seemed to originate from China and from the same IP address (

Now, I have no idea what would have happened if the Wordfence plugin was not active in my website ─ for all I know, maybe nothing.

But I am relieved that I did not have to find out.

I have just discovered a half-minute video slideshow that Google has created of some photos that were taken early this year when my wife Jack and her two sons orchestrated a small reunion with five of their Thai family members in Bali, Indonesia:

Maybe that's my cue to post a few photos from that trip.

These five photos of my wife Jack were likely taken on either January 27 or 28 (2018):

The time has come for me to bring today's post to a close with a 40-year-old journal entry of mine from back when I was 28 years old.

I was staying in a trailer that my younger brother Mark and his girlfriend Jean Cooper were renting in Surrey. The trailer was deep into a growth of evergreen trees, and well in back of a partially fire-damaged large house.

I no longer recall the precise address, but I am quite sure that it was likely between the 10600 and 10700 blocks of 128th Street ─ and on the left-hand side of the street as one moved in the direction of 108th Avenue as seen on this Google map.

I also do not recall just how it was that I found myself staying in the trailer, for my journal only took up from June 15, 1978 after a nearly year-long break from a final previous entry back in June 1977.

All I remember of that lost year is that much of it was probably spent staying with my maternal relatives the Halversons.
JUNE 22, 1978 (Tʜᴜʀsᴅᴀʏ)

This morning I struck out to again attempt location of the mystery trail near Guildford.

[I believe that the trail was part of an abandoned 1966 / 1967 project known as the Centennial Trail that was to have stretched virtually across Canada.] 

I got caught in a long rain, and was miserable. But I may have at last located a possibility near 160th Street and 104th Avenue; I was too out of spirit to venture into the wet brush.

[This Google map shows that intersection, but I am confident that the network of roads that are displayed did not exist back then.]

It was my plan to cross the Port Mann, but signs outlawed this, and I was even chased away from the bridge.

Instead, I forced myself to trek back to old familiar, the Pattullo

Crossing, I was recognized and honked at by Ken Waterston's wife, Sharon, who waved.

[Ken Waterston (if that's correctly spelled) probably had an owner / operator contract with Haul-Away, the garbage collection service for these parts back then. Through my cousin Jock (John) Halverson, I had spent a lot of time on Ken's truck manually emptying garbage cans ─ we would practically run throughout the route. Jock was Ken's regular or full-time swamper ─ I was taken on for a day or two a week when the route was especially heavy; and also whenever Ken didn't feel like going to work and driving, and Jock had to take over. I now have no memory of his wife, though.]

I wasn't very good company at Bill's, for I was irresistibly sleepy; I didn't visit long, and returned to Whalley by bus (I saw Took in New Westminster as I looked out of my Hjorth bus).

[My old friend William Alan Gill and his mother Anne Gregory may have been living in Maillardville. This was why I had wanted to hike over the Port Mann Bridge, since I had already hiked out to that area ─ Maillardville was much nearer for me from the Port Mann perspective than it was by way of walking all the way over to the Pattullo Bridge. Someone would have to be familiar with Surrey, New Westminster, and Coquitlam to have a solid understanding of just how much I must have walked that day ─ no wonder after visiting Bill, I felt reduced to taking a Hjorth Road (i.e., 104th Avenue) bus to get back to Whalley, leaving me with a mere mile or so to walk in order to get back to the trailer. "Took" was an Indigenous Canadian I had come to know ─ we were part-time co-workers at a New Westminster charitable organization called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends) earlier in the 1970s.] 

A rather attractive girl in a sleeveless top on that bus displayed tattoos on both arms, upper and lower; they lent her a surprising rugged appeal.

I learned from Mark this evening quite incidentally that the brother to Penny Nygard (?), an old friend of Pat Kerr's, works where he does; the guy's a first-aid man, and he and Mark had never met way back in those old days of early 1970.
Patricia Ann (or Anne) Kerr and Mark had been sweethearts when they both went to New Westminster Secondary in the latter 1960s. I remember Penny ─ Pat once told me that Penny had a bad crush on me, but I only had eyes for Pat.

I always rather regretted not giving Penny a try, but I was just too smitten with my own crush on Pat ─ who was nearer my age than Mark's as he and I were to discover. 

I miss being a great walker such as I was back then, and for so very many years. But debt keeps me in thrall to my computer as I try futilely to make my six websites and this blog pay off with a generated second income.

It has been almost a decade since I began this blog, and then the websites got started gradually afterward. 

As I said, the venture has been a dismal failure, but I have been doing this for too long to be quite ready to give it all up yet. That's coming, though. 

It will mark the point where I will be transitioning into full acceptance of the failure of my life; and my goal will then be the seeking of my pointless life's termination.

Thursday, June 21, 2018

Lasik Eye Surgery ─ Is the Risk Worth It?

No beer for me last evening, the final full day of Spring (Summer dawned sometime today ─ 6:07 a.m., reportedly).

My younger brother Mark was not home yet shortly after 9:30 p.m. last evening, but my wife Jack was fussing about and not getting to bed ─ a couple or so times she would shut herself up in our bedroom, but I could tell that the light was still on.

When finally 10:00 p.m. had arrived, Jack seemed about set to put herself to bed. I had been almost chafing that her delaying would cause me to still be up and available to Mark when he arrived home and would then need me to operate our Android TV Box for his late-evening entertainment as he drank more beer.

I was in bed at 10:21 p.m.; but just before climbing into the bed in the darkened room, I was convinced that I saw him through the bedroom window and out on the street, about to get home at last.

He would have to amuse himself with the limited television programming available on our basic cable package.

Certainly, I missed watching any episodes of the series that he and I follow, and it would have been nice to have had a beer; but there is no telling how deeply he was immersed into the drink by that time of night, so risking his company is not worthwhile.

Nevertheless, I saw this morning that he drank at least two cans of strong (8% alcohol) beer on top of what he had already taken in. Both of my stepsons had gone to bed before their mother had, so there was no one up for Mark to 'socialize' with.

It was another rather hot and humid night, so sleep was affected. But I refrained from getting up overnight until after checking the time at 5:44 a.m.

My eldest stepson Tho was to rise before 6:00 a.m. to begin readying for his departure to work. His younger brother Poté followed suit better than an hour later.

I of course got busy supplying content to the post I am building at my website Latin Impressions, but I was never to manage to supply more than an average morning's worth of material. 

I did take a break to get out to the backyard tool-shed for some exercise before Mark rose ─ I was out there not too very long after 8:00 a.m.

I had skipped exercising yesterday because I was too below par from bad sleep and depleted physical resources to bear the hot and humid morning, and by later in the day the heat was too much.

Nevertheless, the layoff did not seem to benefit me much ─ I failed to achieve the targeted minimum number of repetitions on the final of the four sets of pull-ups that lead off the three types of exercises I engage out there. This compelled me to perform an extra matching set.

At least the morning was overcast and cooler outside, if not in the house.

I returned into the house to continue the self-assigned work on the Latin Impressions post, wanting to meet the minimum quota of supplied content so that I could go and seek a very much needed nap on Tho's bed. However, already I could hear my brother Mark moving about in his bedroom ─ he had apparently even finished having his morning shower.

He had no sooner gone downstairs, prepared an instant coffee, and settled in with some T.V., when my wife Jack got up.

I could scarcely believe this ─ I was being denied my chance for a nap, and I was feeling most sleep-deprived.

Fortunately, it was to turn out that Mark had risen because he had a 10:00 a.m. chiropractor appointment; and Jack revealed that she was scheduled to work the day at her friend Fanta's Thai restaurant in Langley.

Mark left before Jack had finished up readying herself in the bathroom, and it was probably around 10:30 a.m. when I saw her off on her drive to Langley.

I had become hungry; and since I had already exercised and did not need to be concerned about doing that any longer, I fixed up a meal of Jack's cooking from yesterday.

Mark returned as I was finishing eating here at my computer upstairs, and soon he had the T.V. back on. It was by then about 11:00 a.m. ─ I had no intention of being drawn into serving as the operator of our Android TV Box (Mark doesn't know how to use it).

And so without a word I went back to bed for perhaps 1½ hours, finally benefiting from a nap.

When I was to emerge from my bedroom later, Mark was shut up in his own room, but not for too very much longer. In fact, once he had also emerged, at 12:52 p.m. he announced that he was heading away for the afternoon.

And that brings me up to the present at 1:45 p.m. The day is still overcast.

Thanks to having my wife Jack home last afternoon, I was obliged to answer the door and found myself dealing with a Telus representative who was vigorously canvassing the neighbourhood, seeking to get people to switch from Shaw cable internet to Telus's optic network.

Last year I had almost gotten seduced into doing this very thing by another Telus agent who had come around, and I had even signed a provisional contract that I later cancelled after reading some reviews about Telus's rather strict policing of customer data usage.

We commonly exceed our Shaw internet package's data allowance by double and even triple what we are supposed to be allowed, yet we never hear from them or get additional charges.

Consequently, I am not going to leave them for an optic internet service that may be superior for speed and quality, but which is rigorously policed where the actual data usage is concerned. 

The guy (Abraham) who was here last afternoon was extremely engaging and persistent, so I mollified him by saying that I would take his contact details and let him know further once I had discussed matters with my brother Mark (the Shaw service is under Mark's name).

However, I have no intention whatsoever at this point in time of switching ─ especially since it would be a contract with Telus of at least two years, whereas with Shaw we are on no contract anymore. We've been with Shaw since we moved into this house 15 or even 16 years ago.

But on to another topic now.

I frequently mention in this blog that my vision is extremely bad. I haven't been able to read a book since maybe as far back as the 1980s, for I do not have prescription glasses. I have never wanted to wear glasses because it is my understanding that wearing them would only serve to weaken my eyes more rapidly than is already happening, and I would become dependent upon glasses for everyday use.

It was better to forsake reading books than to have to find myself needing to wear glasses full-time. 

As for laser or other eye surgery, I prefer not to have something as fragile as my eyes operated upon. I know many people claim to have been dramatically helped; but I also realize that many others regret the surgery.

Now there is a new report reinforcing my determination not to ever have the surgery:



I'm 68 years old, so screw chancing the bloody risks. I have no intention of opting in for this 'simple' surgery and finding myself with even more troublesome eyes at this stage of my life because I happened to be stupid or weak enough to undergo this sort of touted surgical 'improvement.'

Hell, I might not even be around three years from now, so I'll make do meanwhile.

I haven't recently posted any photos taken the day that my wife Jack's niece got married earlier this year (it was February 25), so I will present some now.

My suspicion is that the photos were taken at an event held in the city of Udon Thani.

In the following sequence, the bride and groom appear to me to be receiving the traditional tying of string about their wrists by well-wishers ─ a Buddhist gesture designed to invoke blessings to the recipient.

I am unable to recognize anyone in the photos, so I cannot identify anybody.

The bride is the daughter of my wife Jack's sister Lumpoon.

Jack has two sisters ─ the other sister is Penn, who has made a life for herself over in Italy.

Jack returned just this past Tuesday from a two-week holiday to visit Penn, but I am far from having any of the photos that she brought back with her uploaded into a Google Photos album so that I can showcase any of them here.

Okay, it is now time for me to start to bring this post to a close, so here is another 40-year-old entry from my journal back when I was 28 years old.

I was staying in a trailer that was being rented by my younger brother Mark and his girlfriend Jean Cooper. As near as I can recall now, the trailer was somewhere on the left-hand side of Surrey's 128 Street in the 10600 to 10700 block as one headed in the direction of 108th Avenue as displayed on this Google map.

Back then, the trailer could not be seen from the street, for there was an old house that had suffered some fire damage situated between the trailer and the street, and quite tall evergreens grew thickly all about further obscuring the property. 

I bet that area has since undergone development and no trace of the property exists any longer.

I visited mom today, and found I weighed a pound or two under 190, at last.

[My mother and her husband Alex lived less than three miles away in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey. Their home was my main mailing address; and although he little house no longer exists, its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue as shown on this Google map.]

I composed David a letter, but won't mail it until at least tomorrow evening after getting my envelopes and stamps at Bill's place, if I go.

[Philip David Prince was an old friend of mine who had been rooming in New Westminster, but he was to end up in Vancouver's skid road area where he would die in 1984. William Alan Gill was another old friend who was living in Coquitlam or Maillardville, but I now have no idea why he would have had my envelopes and postage stamps.]

I sunned for three hours. I'm looking pretty good.

As usual, coming back to Mark's, I got in my exercise at the fitness circuit, actually performing sixteen good and stable chins. I spoke with a fellow there whom I once before spoke with last Summer (of which today is the first day).

Mark is back, and things seem normal with he and Jean.

That's all.
The fitness circuit was at the edge of Kwantlen Park alongside Old Yale Road ─ the circuit was perhaps around the 10500 block as seen on this Google map.

The meandering sawdust track is probably still there, but the various stations I used for chin-ups, parallel-bar dips, and push-ups on low-lying parallel bars are now all removed ─ and have been for the past decade or more.

I got in so much walking and street jogging that I never bothered myself with jogging the fitness circuit trail or track.

Mark had been away on an overnight trip to Campbell River for a job interview that Jean was not at all pleased about.

But to the present now.

Jack should be home late this evening after her day of work at the Langley restaurant, so I won't be getting to bed early. Perhaps I will get this post published and then seek another potential nap ─ we shall see.

Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Some Interesting Views on the Human Microbiota │ Various Chronic Diseases Are the Aftermath of Androgen Deprivation Therapy (ADT)

My wife Jack arrived home late last afternoon after her youngest son Poté picked her up at the Vancouver International Airport ─ she had left on June 4th to go to Italy for about two weeks to visit her sister Penn, who has made a life for herself over there.

Naturally Jack took lots of photos, and had much to say about both the magnificent and very old architecture, as well as incredibly expensive shops (jewellery, clothing, accessories).

I guess her sister took her to some of the well-known cities, but one she had thought to see but never had time for was Milan.

She had some tee-shirts for her sons, but nothing she had would fit her eldest son Tho. I had thought that the kid was looking more heavily-muscled in his arms and shoulders than even a month ago, so perhaps it is so.

I tried on one large tee-shirt that he couldn't get on. It was a wee bit snug for me in the shoulders, but Tho could not even begin to pull it down over his torso.

He can scarcely bear to let a day go by without a visit to the gym he belongs to; and he mentioned to me that he tries to eat every two hours that he is awake, even if it's just to drink something he whips up in a blender.

My younger brother and I were never as well-muscled as he is, but then we never used a gym, either ─ nor did we eat massively to put on weight.

I admittedly find myself...jealous? Or envious? For so much of my adult life, fitness and visual muscularity meant so much to me, but I never had the means that Tho does to pursue it as he is doing.

Anyway, Jack was very tired after her long trip, but she held off getting to bed until at least mid-evening ─ maybe even later.

My younger brother Mark and I watched T.V. until midnight. Of course, he was not home when Jack first arrived. And because I have a reluctance to bring up such things, I believe that he has no idea that she went to Italy or anyplace at all ─ he likely never really noticed that she hadn't been home for two weeks, since she spends most of her time downtown in Vancouver.

By the time I joined Jack in bed, I may not have had too much difficulty getting to sleep ─ I had consumed a can of strong (8% alcohol) beer and a good shot of rye whisky during the latter part of my evening. But by around 4:00 a.m. the sweltering heat and humidity became too much.

Jack had risen to use the bathroom. I was feeling utterly parched, my nasal passages were dried out, and I felt a burning need to micturate even though there was little fluid in my bladder ─ no doubt, the burning was likely due to the concentration of nutritional supplements I had taken with my light supper, plus the residue of liberal spice from the meal, and perhaps the alcohol itself.

I had to rise and go downstairs to remedy my trouble in the facilities in the boys' den area.

When I returned and rejoined Jack in bed, I doubted that I would be able to sleep due to discomfort from the heat and to my restricted breathing.

However, ultimately it did happen; and it was after 7:00 a.m. when next I checked the time and realized that I had to get up if I was to be able to supply an average morning's quota of content into the post I am constructing at my website Latin Impressions.

Poté was downstairs readying for work, whereas his older brother Tho had already gone without me being aware.

After Poté left, it was not long at all that Jack got up for the day. She began working in the kitchen, so I held fast with the post I was only early into. Then just after 8:00 a.m., Mark got up and was soon watching T.V.

However, I kept busy with the post until that minimum quota of content had been supplied to it, and then I suspended further work on it until the morrow.

When I joined him in the living room, Mark expressed how poorly he had slept. The morning was rather overcast, but it was still oppressively humid and warm.

I thought that he might want me to operate our Android TV Box and call up something for us to watch, but as 11:00 a.m. approached, he was all set for his return to his bedroom for a nap.

Jack had indicated to me earlier that she was going to catch a bus and begin the commute into (I suppose) Vancouver, for she did not have a car here. Nevertheless, she seemed in no rush at all to get away on that experience.

She finally did leave while Mark was in his bedroom napping. And that freed me up to seek my own desperately-needed nap.

What I was to obtain was of benefit, but it still did not correct a very bad night's rest. There would be no attempt at shed-exercising for me today ─ the physical resources for it just do not exist within me in this weather with the inadequate sleep I have had.

Besides, the interior of the shed would be so desperately unpleasant that I would be reluctant to attempt exercise even if I felt what amounts to being normal ─ which I am far from feeling.

After Jack had left, and then Mark rose and readied himself to head away for the afternoon, I had my day's second hot beverage while I watched some T.V. Right around 1:00 p.m. or soon thereafter, Jack phoned me to request that I soak some sticky rice for her.

Until that call, I had no sure idea that she was going to be coming back home today, although I did suspect it.

So now I have my concerns that I may be due for yet another very ill night's sleep if dear Jack is to be spending another night, and also find myself confronted with the spectre of being unable to exercise tomorrow ─ the weather will be just as uncomplementary for such activity as it has been today.

Unlike with Tho, my 68 years cause me to 'decay' rather demonstrably with each day that I do not exercise, so I dare not suffer too much of a layoff from challenging physical activity for that reason.

Today's decline is such that I do wonder if I would even have undertaken a session of afternoon sunning if I had the time for it ─ Jack's eventual later homecoming has ruled that out, for I must have this blog post done for today.

I have come to be nearly preoccupied with the health of my microbiome, so I found interesting and reasonable the contention in the following article that we really do not have what can be honestly described as 'beneficial' microbes living within and upon us:


The organisms we consider to be beneficial are more accurately described as "non-harmful or non-pathogenic" ─ they just happen to have a self-interest that sees them defending us against an overpopulation of organisms that would both harm them as well as us.

Also, I found it most curious that there could be such friendly organisms in certain of us that can actually prove harmful to someone else.

Fascinating stuff!

And a study I read about today ─ a male-specific study focusing upon the aftermath of prostate cancer treatment ─ reaffirmed my resolve never to subscribe to any sort of medical treatment that involves reduction of my testosterone. Not even temporarily!



Apart from androgen deprivation therapy (ADT), I very much wonder how many men are walking around today with the other lifelong side-effects of prostate cancer surgeries, and who tout themselves as being survivors of prostate cancer...yet who never actually had a serious condition that warranted the medical attention that they got?

They could have lived their full lifetimes without being overcome by a prostate cancer ─ lifetimes free of permanent and debilitating conditions such as incontinence and impotence.

But their surgeons frightened these men into the unnecessary treatment ─ after all, surgeons make their excellent living from surgeries, and certainly not from talking people out of having those surgeries.

Unquestionably, there are many men who have been hoodwinked into believing that they are prostate cancer survivors, even though there never was a prostate cancer that was any kind of threat.

Now that my wife Jack is back from Italy, I am not going to download further photos from her Facebook account. However, I have yet to upload in a Google Plus album any of her trip's photos that she bought home.

As a result, today I am going to post a few more from when she and her two sons were in Bali earlier this year to effect a family reunion with five other members of their Thai family.

The first photo features Jack, and I believe that the shirtless fellow beyond her is her eldest son Tho ─ the photos were all probably taken on January 28 (2018), although January 27 is a possibility:

In that final photo, the woman using the cane is Jack's mother; and helping the mother to walk is Lumpoon, one of Jack's two sisters (the other sister is Penn in Italy).

Since I am expecting Jack home at some point yet today, I feel I must bring today's post to a close now, so here is an old journal entry of mine from 40 years ago when I was 28 years old.

I was staying in a trailer that my younger brother Mark and his girlfriend Jean Cooper were renting. The trailer was situated deep among a growth of evergreens, and in behind a fire-damaged house that hid the trailer from view from the adjacent street.

That street was 128th Street in Surrey. I now cannot recall precisely where the house and trailer were, but I would estimate that it may have been in the 10700 block, and on the left-hand side of 128th Street as one headed in the direction of 108th Avenue as shown on this Google map

Despite that guess, the trailer may have been as far back as the 10600 block ─ too many years have passed now for me to clearly remember.
JUNE 20, 1978 (TUESDAY)

A purely sunny day.

I hiked here from Mark's all the way out to and around Burnaby Lake. But it was short on pleasure.

I did eat a lot of berries, which made up for the fruit I haven't been able to buy lately.

I'm picking up a lot of good colour.

If I can keep it up, plus the diminishing weight complemented with exercise, I just may be justified in appearing publicly with bared torso.

I've done 15 chins the last three times I've tried, and that's good, considering my bodyweight and footwear.

Jean was in good form, not displaying displeasure of Mark's absence.
Mark had left on a flight for Campbell River for a job interview ─ an overnight jaunt.  

I don't remember ever making that hike from Surrey.

This Google map shows Burnaby Lake ─ I would have walked all the way to and right around the lake, and then walked back to the trailer. 

Even walking fast and nonstop ─ apparently I stopped to eat berries, though ─ I doubt that the hike could have been performed in as little as four hours. 

As for those chin-ups, I was trying to use strict form. From a hang, I would pull myself up until my chin went overtop the bar, and then lower myself down to a full descent before commencing the next repetition.

At not quite five feet and 11 inches, I weighed around 190 pounds; and of course I was fully dressed and wearing boots ─ which added more to the total weight.

Nevertheless, I bet I had lost at least a couple of pounds if I did any chin-ups at the end of that hike. 

Tuesday, June 19, 2018

B.C.'s Vile Fish Farms Need to Go!

For a second consecutive evening, my younger brother Mark was in reasonable condition, so I sat up into the midnight hour with him operating our Android TV Box for our T.V. series enjoyment.

After he went to bed, I went outside and watered the plants in the front yard. It was just after 1:00 a.m. by the time I was in bed.

I slept reasonably well until I rose ─ perhaps a little before 5:00 a.m. ─ to turn on and log into my computer to have it all set for later use.

I was able to nap a little further, and I think that it many have been just after 6:00 a.m. when I rose to get started on my Latin Impressions post.

My youngest stepson Poté had his girlfriend here to sleep with overnight, so the pair of them rose maybe an hour after I did, and soon they took off for work ─ they have the same employer.

My eldest stepson Tho never did bother getting up for work ─ in fact, he did not make an appearance until around noon.

Of course, my early morning was devoted to the addition of content into the post I am creating at my website Latin Impressions. I stayed the course until I had put in about an average morning's worth of material.

By then it was after 9:00 a.m., and I wanted to work up the mental resources I would need to handle an early session of exercising out in the backyard tool-shed ─ there was no way I wanted to suffer a repeat of yesterday afternoon where I had to wear rubberized gloves in order to retain a hold onto the bars I suspend from when I do the four sets of pull-ups that open my nine or so minutes of exercising.

The humidity and heat in the shed can become abominable.

Mark obliged me by not getting up until close to 10:00 a.m.

I did perform the exercises, but it sure was not easy ─ it took everything I could muster to hit the repetition targets for those sets of pull-ups. I feel overworked.

But it's not a simple matter hauling over 190 pounds of mass up and all the way down to a full hang at my age of 68. I don't feel as if I am fully recovering from each day's session.

I never did return to work on the Latin Impressions post. Instead, after Mark had gotten up, I returned to bed for a nap, and was probably there for a little over an hour.

So quite late in the morning I joined Mark in the living room and accepted his invitation to tune in something on the Android TV Box; I settled on an episode of The IT Crowd ─ I think he and I both have grown rather fond of the three main characters.

I have only just now discovered in that Wikipedia article I linked to that the actress playing Jen ─ Katherine Parkinson ─ co-stars in the first three seasons of Humans. Mark and I recently watched the first episode, and I never recognized her as being in it. But I think that she was the bitchy wife who didn't want the android in her home and interacting with her children.

I will have to pay attention when Mark and I get around to watching the second episode.

Anyway, once The IT Crowd was done, it was time for Mark's nap.

I was soon seated out in the backyard and wearing naught but a pair of cutoffs. I faced into the Sun for a half-hour, and then turned my back to it for a further 10 minutes.

Mark left to have a haircut just prior to when my half-hour of frontal Sun exposure had elapsed. He returned as I have been working on this post, and then just ahead of 2:30 p.m. left for the afternoon.

I signed an online petition today that is specific to my province of British Columbia ─ a bid to have premier John Horgan of the NDP choose NOT to renew fish farm licences about to expire.

I typically vote NDP, but fish farms are something I despise.

The source of the petition is a group calling themselves Leadnow that I just assumed was part of the Liberal Party, but I now see that they are not. I signed the petition without knowing this, however ─ that's how aggravated I am at John Horgan for even considering renewing those fish farm licences.

According to the petition, this licence renewal must be halted within 24 hours, so if it matters to you, then perhaps add your name:

Well, as I have been typing this, at 2:51 p.m. I received a text from my wife Jack:
Just landing
She is returning to the Vancouver International Airport after being away for just over two weeks on a holiday to visit her sister Penn in Italy ─ Penn has made a life for herself there.

Jack's youngest son Poté is supposed to be picking her up at the airport, and will have taken time off work to do so ─ which annoys me, for Tho has been home all this time because he never bothered going to work!

He could have done the darned task.

I have some more photos of Jack's that I think she took on June 15 ─ and definitely in Venice ─ while she and Penn (and Penn's young son Daniel) were enjoying a gondola tour:

It has become imperative that I close early with today's post, so I shall finish now with this old journal entry of mine from exactly 40 years ago when I was 28 years old.

I was staying in the trailer that my younger brother Mark and his girlfriend Jean Cooper were renting ─ possibly located in the vicinity of the 12700 block (and on the left-hand side) of 128th Street here in Surrey as one travels toward 108th Avenue as shown on this Google map.

The trailer was not visible from the street due to a heavy growth of evergreens, and it was also well in behind a large old house that had suffered some fire damage at some point.

I bet none of any of this exists today, however.
JUNE 19, 1978 (MONDAY)

Nothing much today. It turned out hot in the afternoon.

I located some lewd Penthouse pages which later spelled my undoing at mom's after heading for there from Mark's this morning. 

They're still there.

Anyway, I'm down to 190 lbs.

Mark and Jean are having difficulties again; he's going for an overnight air trip, again for an interview, tomorrow, to Campbell River.

I supped with them, having a portion ─ quite excellent ─ of the fish caught yesterday by Jean at Chilliwack Lake.

They retired at 10:30 p.m., so I tuned in a show called Vic Franklyn. Oh, he's good, sounds something like Frank Sinatra, but I was happy to discover that Patsy Gallant was his guest.

I sure wish I was her "Sugar Daddy."
There are a couple of choices that I made in my life concerning involvements that I wish I could travel back in time and compel my earlier self to choose otherwise; but I don't wish to get into that here and now.

I don't remember Mark and Jean having relationship issues this early into their life together, but I guess Mark was seeking employment away from her even this early into things.

He was to work as a first-aid / time-keeper at wilderness camps in the lumber and maybe even the mining industry, and consequently he and Jean would be apart for extended periods of time.

As for Patsy Gallant, I can't locate any videos of her singing her hit "Sugar Daddy" that showcase her visually as I remember her, so I won't link to any.  

I suppose that she resembled Lady Gaga facially; and even though she may not have been extremely beautiful, I thought that she had 'killer' legs.

One final thing ─ the present now.

The doorbell rang a couple of times as I was finishing this post. I rarely answer the doorbell (or any knocking) blindly ─ I would prefer not to be put upon by seekers of charitable donations, or political or religious proselytizers, for example.

Besides, Tho was home and downstairs.

Had he not been here, I would have at least gone downstairs and taken a peek to see who might be outside.

Well, I watched from my bedroom window to see if I could notice someone leaving ─ and I did indeed. A smallish car backed out that had a woman driving.

I think that it was my wife Jack's Thai friend Mint, who drives a rather distinctive Mini.

Soon after I witnessed her departure, Tho came upstairs to relieve his bowels and then took off in his own car ─ he maybe doesn't wish to be home when his mother arrives.