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Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Happy Birthday to Me ─ in 2016, and Back in 1975

My wife Jack arrived home early last evening ─ if not very late in the afternoon ─ and was soon busy cooking some Thai-themed dishes in the kitchen.

She had brought home her youngest son Pote and his girlfriend Priyanka ─ probably from Guildford where Pote had earlier been working.

My younger brother Mark was soon to show up, as was my eldest step-son Tho.

Jack had some very bad news concerning Tho to tell Mark and I about.

It seems that Tho had gotten his driver's licence suspended, but was driving anyway.  Well, he got stopped by police, and the car was impounded.

Mark is of the belief that there are going to be serious consequences, since Tho is a Novice (N) driver here in B.C.

And now he has to use some other means to get to work each morning ─ how long is he faithfully going to keep going to work off in Burnaby from here in Surrey?

I believe that he is of the opinion that his car will be held for a short time and that he'll soon be able to bail it out.

But what if that is not so?  And even if he does get it back after paying whatever fine/impound fee there may be, will he behave and henceforth continue getting to work by alternate means?

And what of his younger brother Pote, who also has an 'N' licence but no car?  Could Tho 'sell' it to Pote for a dollar and thus keep it on the road in Pote's name?

There is a lot to find out in the near future.

Anyway, after Mark went up to his bedroom for the night around 10:20 p.m., I sat up watching T.V. and waiting for Jack to go to bed.

But time passed.

Pote and Priyanka started doing something in the kitchen late in the evening ─ they will cook something up even when there is food that Jack has prepared, because I suppose Priyanka is not fussy about Thai grub.

Pote can be finicky, too.

Jack seemed to be monitoring the situation, so I continued watching T.V. as midnight approached.

What I did not realize at about 11:55 p.m. was that this was happening ─ candles were being lit on a birthday cake for me:

And then this happened as I sat in the darkened living room watching T.V.:

Evidently this photo was taken at 11:57 p.m. ─ I am standing between Pote and my wife Jack, while I am holding a bottle of Scotch that my eldest step-son Tho had gotten for me:

Priyanka took that photo ─ Tho had gone to bed well before because he had to rise early for work today.

Then at 11:59 p.m., Jack took a turn as photographer and had Priyanka pose with me and Pote:

It was all quite pleasant, I do admit.

And since my own bottle of liquor ─ rye whisky ─ is very low, now I needn't be concerned for awhile about resupplying.  In addition, I fully expect that my brother Mark will be bringing me home a bottle of rum when he shows up sometime this evening.

I don't exactly remember when I finally got to bed, but I am quite confident that it was something beyond 1:30 a.m.

I remember rising just after 6:00 a.m. to use the bathroom once my sleep had broken, but I returned to bed and successfully tried for more.

It was broken sleep thereafter, but I greatly surprised myself when I checked the time this morning with an eye to rising, and I saw that it was 10:48 a.m.

It was good to catch so much time in peaceful rest, but I was left with little opportunity to work on the post I had hoped to publish today at my Latin Impressions website.  I set the post up last Thursday, so I am quite behind schedule.

Jack got up before I finished the post; and since by then it was the noon-hour, I gave up and will complete and publish the post tomorrow.

Today, my big task was creating a resumé for Jack.  I had hoped to be able to locate an old copy of her resumé from eight or so years back, but the search was futile.

The dates of her restaurant employment are undoubtedly well off, but it shouldn't much matter ─ the last two restaurants are no longer in business, and thus no prospective employer could ever verify the dates with anyone.

We've had a sunny day, but I wasted it remaining inside.  And since it is 5:43 p.m. as I type these words ─ and since Jack is still home and cooking ─ I will not be getting outside to sit in the fading Sun.

Tomorrow is supposed to be just as sunny, and Jack will have left for Vancouver this evening and won't be back until probably Friday, so I should be able to get in my 40 minutes of sunshine in the backyard tomorrow.  


And my wife Jack left ─ it was just about 6:00 p.m.

I am not in a blogging frame of mind ─ I am feeling...lonely.  I am fighting the urge to quaff a few ounces of booze.

I am going to close now with this 41-year-old journal entry, back when I had just turned 26, and was living in a tiny basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.  

The unit I was renting was in a house located on Ninth Street at Third Avenue.

Evidently I was planning on the extra long hike out to my mother Irene Dorosh's home in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey.  She and her husband Alex were leaving this day for Reno

That cozy little house no longer exists, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue ─ it was my main mailing address.

The "extra long hike" to get there involved first traveling the King George Highway all the way to Newton's 72nd Avenue (Newton Road).  A set of railway tracks cut through Newton thereabouts, crossing both 72nd Avenue and the King George Highway.

I would access the railway tracks by turning right onto them, and then following them until I reached the Surrey terminus of 90th Avenue at Holt Road, very near to Scott Road (120th Street).

My mother's home was maybe a half-dozen or so houses down 90th Avenue, on the right-hand side of the street.

I had left a stewing chicken with my mother that she had promised to cook up and leave for me.

In preparation for that venture, I retired to bed the evening before at 9:00 p.m.
SATURDAY, October 11, 1975

Bill came persistently knocking at 2:00 a.m.; he had 4 gallons of Mark's wine, our share, and wished me to store it.

He was upset cause Mark said Cathy wanted a "quiet, Sunday dinner" with just the two of them, not he; and I had just finished saying I was invited that day for dinner.  

He said something about not going back to visit till perhaps Christmas.

Anyway, I remained up.

I shall visit David for 20 minutes or so if he is up, and leave for mom's via Newton at 5:30 a.m.  

I promised Bill to call him to partake of my chicken stew breakfast at mom's as soon as the place is clear of the vacationers; I hope he is too tired to come; he really is trying to keep a hold on me now that Mark & Cathy rejected him. 

Well, I couldn't get away from David for at least 15 minutes later than planned; but much slow, persistent jogging got me to mom's about 8:10 a.m.; Cathy was there to transport them to their bus.

It seems that while returning from work Thursday night, a car ran the red light at 8th & Royal and totaled Alex' car.

Anyway, their bus was scheduled to leave at 9:40 a.m., and Cathy got them off.

I then phoned Bill, who was prepared for my call to breakfast, and stuffed on bread & toast till he came.

Note:  before eating, my weight was 181 or 2!

Bill didn't remain too awfully long.

I really overate.

Mark & Cathy came over in the afternoon for some reason, amusing themselves outside while I viewed a movie; they came in a while, then left.

Before coming home at night, around 6:00 p.m. I couldn't resist sleep.

Bill had phoned earlier, and was rather expecting me to show up for some TV.  But I didn't leave mom's till, anyway, 8:00 p.m.

At home, I typed up a letter to Ron.

The day was mostly of sun.

To bed, 11:10 p.m.
My younger brother Mark was experimenting with wine-making by fermenting fruit, probably from whatever trees were on the property that he and his girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther were renting together in Whalley. 

My old friend William Alan Gill and I had helped him prepare the fruit.     

Bill had just finished being off work for a week due to some cut fingers, and he likely was making a bit of a nuisance of himself by hanging around at their home ─ he had certainly been occupying my time more than I was fussy for.

I loved Bill, but he didn't seem able to amuse himself very well ─ he needed people.

And he was very sensitive ─ he would have been hurt and outraged that he was not invited to have Thanksgiving dinner at their home on Sunday.

I guess before he let me know this, I must have told him that Jeanette had invited me there for dinner ─ so it wasn't true that they only wanted to spend time by themselves that day.

My other old friend ─ Philip David Prince ─ also lived in New Westminster, and was himself rather clinging whenever we got together.  It was one major factor that compelled me to avoid his visitations, or my visiting him in turn.  He was just too hard to separate from.

Well, he was true to form that morning.

However, I seem to have made up the time by doing considerable jogging to get to my mother's home.

Jeanette was already there to drive my mother and Alex to wherever their charter bus was scheduled to pick them up.  

I don't remember that car accident Alex had incurred at 8th Street & Royal Avenue in New Westminster. 

Anyway, when I was ready to return to my room in New Westminster later that day, I would of course go directly home ─ not that long, long trip via Newton.  But even so, hiking that much shorter route still would take about 1½ hours at a fast pace.

If I had been up since 2:00 a.m., I am not surprised that I needed a nap early in the evening before tackling the walk back to my room.  Bill lived in New Westminster, and would basically have been in my path on that return hike; but I deemed that my evening was already a late one, and was not going to drop in on him.

Once I was back at my room, I typed up a letter to Ron Bain, an American pen-pal I had. 

It turned out to be a later evening than I would have wanted.

What I find interesting in going over that old journal entry is that there didn't seem to be any fuss or mention made of the day being my 26th birthday ─ I never even mentioned it myself.

I wonder why?
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