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Friday, December 23, 2016

Daily Handful of Nuts Prevent a Wide Range of Diseases │ CoQ10 Tackles Metabolic Syndrome │ Tips on Avoiding GMOs in Food

Neither of my step-sons were home last evening when my younger brother Mark called it a night and headed on up to his bedroom just after 10:30 p.m.

I made haste to shut off the T.V., turn off the lights ─ including the Christmas lights outside ─ and lock the front door. 

I wanted to be in bed before Pote showed up with his girlfriend to spend the night with him.  It may seem a very small matter, but I want him to at least have to use his house key to waltz her into the house.

It feels too unfair to me that he shows up with her and just breezes into the house ─ to my mind, there has to be some darned inconvenience involved.&

Might it have been as early as 10:37 p.m. when I was beneath the covers?  Whatever the actual time, it was a mere minute more when I heard him driving his older brother Tho's car into the carport.

Had I not acted with the alacrity that I did in getting to bed, he would have had his usual easy access to the house ─ it was a sensationally close call.

For me, a triumph ─ picayune as it may seem to you.

It may have been 3:00 a.m. when ─ after an excellent first block of sleep ─ I rose to use the bathroom, drink some water, and irrigate my nasal passageways with an eye dropper.

This is the part of my night when my nasal passageways become threatened with blockage.

I had uneasy, broken sleep until about 6:00 a.m., and then found that further sleep seemed impossible due to the degree with which breathing had become restricted.  But I held off from rising until around 6:41 a.m.

Pote was up.

I presume that he had taken his older brother Tho to the SkyTrain (Tho is serving a driving licence suspension); and maybe his own girlfriend, as well.

Tho works in Burnaby; Pote's girlfriend has a part-time job in Vancouver.

But she also has a part-time job at Guildford, so he may even have driven her there ─ if she was even here last night.  I cannot lay claim to having heard her at any time overnight.

Shortly before 10:00 a.m., Pote drove off in Tho's car ─ he most likely had to report for work, for Pote has two part-time jobs at Guildford.

I put a fair amount of work into the edit of an old post at one of my six hosted websites ─ I began that edit yesterday.

But I wanted to get out and buy some lottery gift packs as Christmas presents for my step-sons, my brother Mark and his girlfriend Bev (who will be here ─ probably Christmas Eve and on into Christmas), and my wife Jack.

I decided to dare the sopping wet snow and slick, softening ice, and trek the mile or so over to Surrey Place (Central City).

I set forth just ahead of 1:00 p.m.

It was lightly raining, and has been since last evening, I expect.  But that snow is certainly resisting melting ─ we still have maybe at least three inches.

At one point, I noticed fine snow in the rain.  It's quite nippy out.

I got that errand accomplished ─ five $25 lottery gift packs; and I was back home well ahead of 2:00 p.m.  I had instead wanted five $20 gift packs, but there were not enough remaining.

I found Tho here when I got back.

What I do not know is whether he got home from work early as a Christmas Eve gesture from the company he works for; or if  he never even went to work, and had been sleeping all the while that I was home before that hike of mine.

He and I never spoke to one another ─ we were never in the same room; and at maybe 3:30 p.m., he left for somewhere.

By the way, I accidentally placed a call to my wife Jack this morning ─ I hate how these iPhones will automatically start dialing a number when all a person is trying to do is look at the number of a missed call.

I cancelled the call, but I guess it still registered with her phone.  She phoned me while I was at Surrey Place, and sounded very sleepy.

At least I learned that she doesn't plan to be home from Vancouver until maybe Monday, so she is not going to be here to socialize with Mark and Bev, nor indulge in the Christmas dinner they intend to cook.

Switching topics now, I want to post two photos, each featuring my wife Jack's older sister Penn; and Penn's son Daniel. 

Jack probably took the photos on October 30 when she had gone back to Thailand to see her mother after better than 3½ years.

Jack and some of her family had gone to see the ruins of Ayutthaya; this functioning temple was obviously somewhere in the vicinity:


Just this past week, I included mention in a post of a review of various nut studies that has found that eating a mere handful daily seems able to protect the consumer from a host of diseases.

Here are a couple of reports about it:



Interestingly, the study observed that eating more than a handful a day didn't increase the benefit, so there was no need to gorge on them.

I was looking at a package of assorted nuts yesterday when I was shopping ─ the kind still in the shell.  But I deemed the package too expensive for the small amount that it contained.

I will have to be more vigilant and try and acquire some.  

I hope it isn't necessary to point out that confectionery nuts are probably useless.  It is the natural, untampered nut that bestows the benefits.   


Towards the end of my working life, I had started taking CoQ10 supplements.  But once the reality set in of having to live within the means allowed by my smallish monthly retirement pension, I had to stop keeping myself in supply of CoQ10.

Too bad for me, but a new published study proclaims that CoQ10 seems able to reign in those pathologies that characterize metabolic syndrome ─ an unhealthy condition many people have, but are generally unaware that they suffer from it.  




Maybe Jack Harrison knows where to get CoQ10 for 8¢ or less per capsule, but my experience was that a capsule was costing me at least 50¢ each.  

I just can't afford that.


With the Christmas and New Year's feasts that many families will be indulging in, there are going to be untold amounts of GMOs hidden away in so many of the things we will be eating.

Do you try to be conscientious about avoiding them?



And this article from back on July 29:


I hope there's a special Hell for everyone involved in foisting GMOs upon those of us that know better and want nothing to do with them.


I close out now with a journal entry from 41 years ago when i was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

The small unit I was renting was in a house located on Ninth Street, perhaps one or two houses up from Third Avenue.

Normally I worked just one day a week ─ Friday ─ for a New Westminster charitable organization called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends) that is today known as Fraserside Community Services Society.

But I had been asked to come in this week on Tuesday instead ─ perhaps S.A.N.E. was going to be closed on Friday.

My role was as a swamper on S.A.N.E.'s blue pick-up truck.

In those early years, S.A.N.E. was housed in a building on Carnarvon Street, approximately where the New Westminster SkyTrain Station now opens up onto that street.  

The evening prior to this journal entry, I had gotten to bed at 8:00 p.m.
TUESDAY, December 23, 1975

I slept with many wakeful interludes during the night, arising about 3:07 a.m.

I heard on the news that damn Vander Zalm said able-bodied welfare recipients had better get themselves "a shovel," alluding we won't be as favoured as we are much longer now that he, as of yesterday, is the responsible minister; he just might kill me!

I did my laundry, dropping off Thoughts for Festive Occasions or whatever it was at the library; at the store I bought March's Invaders.

I also looked through issues of Knave and Mayfair, and fear I may end up buying them when confronted with the opportunity.

I went to S.A.N.E.

Actually, I wasn't needed.  The only time I worked was well after 2:00 p.m., and all I did was carry a few boxes of goodies down the stairs.

What a wasted day!  But if I hadn't gone this morning, I'd not have found the dollar bill I did just above the John Robson school on 8th.

Bill surprised me in the afternoon at S.A.N.E by dropping by with a box of some clothes of his mother's.

I was home by 3:50 p.m. this drizzly afternoon.

I finished reading Vathek.  

My foot feels as disjointed as ever, and causes me trouble most when descending stairs.

I baked my fancy loaf to take with me tomorrow to dad's Christmas Eve dinner.

Bed at 8:30 p.m.
My employment was part of an incentives or initiatives programme in place between S.A.N.E. and New Westminster social services.

I think that for working the day a week for S.A.N.E., I was paid something like $50 a month; however, it also qualified me for the Single person's social assistance rate.

With Bill Vander Zalm flexing his power, it was very likely that my involvement in the programme would be terminated.

I would launder at a laundromat that I believe was located on Sixth Avenue, very near to the public library.

It was my old friend William Alan Gill who showed up at S.A.N.E. with a box of his mother Anne Gregory's clothing.  Bill lived in a bachelor suite maybe four blocks from my room.

My foot was sore as a result of a lengthy street run I had engaged in on Saturday while I was wearing boots.  The pain felt as if maybe a small bone in my foot had disengaged from its cartilage connection to some adjacent bone.
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