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Monday, December 12, 2016

Omega-7 Fatty Acids

I am broken right down.

I went out around 1:30 p.m. to do some local grocery shopping at the No Frills store roughly four blocks away from my home, and upon returning decided to do some snow and ice shoveling before coming into the house.

Well, it was 4:00 p.m. before I lamely made my way into the house, and I had to lie down straightaway ─ with even my boots on.

My back was sore ─ I was too wiped for words.  And I am still not done with the shoveling.  I decided to try and restore myself with a hot beverage and get this post underway, hoping that some vigour will return.

It has been quite a sunny day, so I am expecting a freeze to set in tonight, and it will likely remain for days.  I have to finish shoveling the half of the driveway that my younger brother Mark uses to get into the open dual carport.

My two lazy step-sons are on their own ─ they can do their own shoveling.

What wiped me out so badly was the work in trying to clear off some of the sidewalk around our property.

The ice is fiercely affixed to the concrete because of so many people having walked over it the past several days.

I should mention that we had another fall of snow overnight.  I took these photos of the front via our living room window at 8:11 a.m.:

My Canon PowerShot SD880 IS just cannot seem to draw in enough light to obtain a bright image, despite all the white snow.

A minute later, I took these photos while looking out over the backyard sundeck:

And at 11:26 a.m., after having some exercise out in that little backyard shed, I took these two shots as I faced toward the house:

It is 4:52 p.m. right now, so I had better get back out there and finish what I want to do of the driveway.

Ere I do, however, I just want to criticize my E-mail provider, Earthlink.  Ever since I logged into my account early this morning ─ an account that I pay a monthly fee for ─ access has been denied for the most part.

Sometimes I will get in, look at a few messages, and then suddenly the next one will not open ─ I see the notice from my browser "contacting Earthlink," but contact is never made.  Instead I eventully get an error message.

Periodically EarthLink ─ as it first did early this morning ─ will declare that the mail service is down for maintenance, and to try again later.

Well, that is utter crap.  Why would it be down for maintenance for hours on end without any prior notification to its paying customers that such extended maintenance was being targeted for today?

Obviously the buggers are lying ─ their system has collapsed, and they've been struggling to restore it.  Maybe they were even hacked ─ who knows?

At least be bloody honest about it. 

Before leaving this section, I see that Google created a panorama of the photos I took of the backyard this morning ─ not too bad, although that sundeck railing appears badly broken at the near left:


I don't know about you, but I have no familiarity with omega-7 fatty acids.  They are extremely healthy, from what researchers understand; but they are hard to come by in food alone.

Here are a couple of reports on this outstanding class of unsaturated fatty acids:



If omega-7s are so elusive from a dietary standpoint, I can only suspect that the supplements will not be inexpensive ─ one more product I will never be likely to afford.


I am not feeling particularly well after that return to the job of driveway snow shoveling.  It is unfortunate that I failed to tackle that area earlier, for the concrete is impossible to expose ─ too much fresh ice is taking hold, and I just haven't it in me to fight it out.

My wife Jack phoned me about 20 minutes ago to have me take a package of meat out of the fridge icebox, and to also soak some sticky rice.

She said that she will be home soon.

That being likely, I had best just close for the day with this journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

The house I was renting the tiny unit in was located on Ninth Street, just a house or two up from Third Avenue.

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

My role was that of truck swamper on their blue pick-up.

Back then, S.A.N.E. was housed in one of a stretch of buildings along Carnarvon Street, right about where the New Westminster SkyTrain Station now opens up onto that street.

The evening prior to this entry, I hd gone to bed at 7:00 p.m.
FRIDAY, December 12, 1975

Again last night I had difficulty getting asleep, but not as badly as the night previous.

Dave Barrett and his NDP lost the election to Bill Bennett's Social Credit Party, and I fear my status is profoundly threatened.

I mailed to Big 4 Amateur Football Conference for a hopefully lucky Western Lottery ticket as I made my way just past 4:00 a.m. to the track for my 12 easy laps; the night is still, clear, and quite frozen.

At S.A.N.E., Joe was again driving, and my partner today was a personable young fellow called Tim; we went out to Surrey, and Gordie accompanied.

After returning, Esther took over the driving, and it was just Tim and I swamping; our task most severe was delivering Esther's leather couch from Shirley's to Queensborough; since, it has been snowing

We broke about 2:00 p.m. for lunch.

Crossing thru the schoolyard, I fell flat on my back on the basketball court.  All pavement is sheened with ice beneath the snow.

I brought home a 3 oz package of Malkin's pickling spices; it is also recommended for beef heart stews.

I returned to S.A.N.E.  And did nothing further.

Esther didn't show up till at least 4:30 p.m., and I was home by 5:00 p.m.

The snow just keeps piling up, and the streets seem clogged with doomed traffic immobilized.

I'd planned to sit up till 9:00 p.m. watching TV, but CBUT will not correlate the sound with the picture.    

My supper consisted of a soup of a cup apiece of soy beans and wheat grains.

I bed at 8:00 p.m.
I am impressed with myself that I went running a dozen laps that early at New Westminster Secondary School track even on a day when I would be having to work. 

My usual driver at S.A.N.E. was Esther St. Jean, a jovial gal in her early 40s.  I think "Joe" was an enormous young Indigenous Canadian lad.  I don't recall any "Tim," but I believe "Gordie" was a wildly loquacious young fellow who must have had some mental challenges.

I'm unsure just who I meant by "Shirley" ─ or why Esther's leather couch was there and being transported over to Queensborough.  Esther lived in New Westminster on Fourth or Fifth Street, near Eighth Avenue (if I am recalling correctly).

I often walked home for lunch, but I no longer remember doing that.  My route seems to have been through an elementary school that I can no longer surely recall.

What a dreadful supper!

It sucks to be poor.
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