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Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Resveratrol for Artery Health │ Popping, Crackling Knees Are Portending Osteoarthritis │ One in Three New Medications Are Safety Risks

I don't know what possessed my wife Jack, but we were blessed with her presence for two consecutive nights!

It was rather nice having her here for the two days, even if it did impinge upon my banal routine that doesn't pay off anyway ─ I am here speaking of my long hours spent daily sitting here at my computer vainly hoping to somehow break into a legitimate second income.

After arriving here in the latter Monday afternoon, or very early that evening, she left early this afternoon to return to Vancouver.

Yesterday's hot, sunny weather devolved by the arrival of that evening into a most windy experience that dramatically cooled down everything. Neither Jack nor I slept at all well Monday night. But while I was finishing up yesterday's post in this blog, she resorted to our bedroom for a nap with the cool wind billowing the bedroom window blinds; and she must have fallen into quite a doze.

I had not brought forth my token can of beer, so I had to endure the advance of the evening as she napped ─ I keep my beer beneath our bed. The groggy creature never emerged until well after 9:00 p.m.

I found the inconvenience to be rather amusing, and was glad for her to be able to catch up on so much sleep.

But of course that meant that she was in no great haste to get to sleep last night.

My younger brother Mark had one of his better evenings ─ he remained conscious throughout. And after he retired to his bedroom for the night, I endured further T.V. until I finally yielded to sound sense and bade Jack (who was busy in the kitchen) a good-night, justifying that I had not benefited from any nap that day as had she.

It was 12:25 a.m. when I was to bed. I fell and remained asleep before she came to bed, so I don't know just when that was.

Unfortunately, I did have another poor night of it, though. I sensed Jack getting up after dawn, and when she had exited the bedroom, I checked the time: 5:25 a.m.

I tried to sleep more, but my right nasal passageway was entirely blocked, and so I was unable to breathe sufficiently to relax enough to easily sleep.  

I gave up before it was yet 6:00 a.m., and rose and dressed, emerging from the bedroom just in time to see my eldest stepson Tho hustling toward the front door to leave for work ─ his mother was driving him to the SkyTrain.

Did she rise on her own, or did he summon her? I don't know.

She was back before I had yet taken my day's first mug of hot blended instant coffee / cocoa powder upstairs here to my computer. She confirmed that I was up for the day, but she was heading back to bed for more sleep.

I wanted to soon get started putting together a new post that I barely got founded yesterday at my Latin Impressions website, but I met with an extended delay. I had logged into the WordPress dashboard of both that website and also Siam-Longings, noting that there was a plugin update available for Editorial Assistant ─ version 1.3.3 was available.

Well, I made the upgrade on both websites, but then I discovered that all other areas of the dashboard to Siam-Longings had become inaccessible ─ I cannot now recall the error message.

I researched for quite some while to see if there were any other reports of a similar problem with the update, but I could not come across anything.

The only solution I knew of was to enter my website's database via cPanel and disable or delete the plugin. However, when I accessed that database, I could find no such plugin name.

Further research revealed that it was actually a feature of Zemanta. And since I could not find it listed anywhere within Zemanta, I had no option but to do something to disable all of Zemanta.

I am no sure hand at this sort of thing, but I did find a bit of a tutorial that led me to believe that if I just renamed the Zemanta plugin file, then doing so would render it invisible and thus inoperable.

This indeed worked. I could again access the various areas of Siam-Longing's WordPress dashboard.

Nevertheless, I would have preferred that other people reported a similar issue, and forced the Editorial Assistant plugin's creator(s) to add some sort of fix to the latest plugin version.

Meanwhile, I reckon Siam-Longings is just going to have to do without Zemanta.

Had it not been for this delay in getting to work on the new post, I could have completed the work I wanted to perform today before Jack got up later in the morning. I failed to do that, but I kept at it anyway ─ she dutifully went directly downstairs to the kitchen, so I held fast until I was finally done that which I had hoped to get done today.

The weather today is remarkably cooler, with great clouds floating about in the blue sky. Even if I was home alone, sunning is out. But this is supposed to be just a 'one off' sort of day, and we'll be back to the heat and Sun tomorrow.

Jack's youngest son Poté apparently did not have to go to work until the very early afternoon. When he was about to head away, Jack called out to him from upstairs that she wanted a hug, and so she came trundling down to get it.

I had to have my bit of fun with the lad, and queried as to where my hug was?

The kid graciously obliged with a great shared embrace.

Jack was not home for too much longer after he had left ─ 15 or 20 minutes, perhaps. And then after just about as much time later following her departure, Tho suddenly arrived home ─ he'd had a short day.

He and I talked a little. In doing so, he innocently enquired as to when he needed to file his tax return. I am pretty sure that he knew he is already too late ─ folks who owe money are to have filed by the end of last month, I believe. He has owed a little the previous two tax years, so he trend will likely have continued.

At any rate, he asked me to prepare a tax return for him.

Before I leave this section recounting my day, I want to post a couple of photos I recently scanned. I will include the descriptions I made of them where I have them filed in a Google album:

That is my mother Irene Dorosh.

I cannot tell where the photo may have been taken, but I would guess that it was taken during the decade of the 1990s.
A photo from my mother Irene Dorosh's collection.

Nothing about the photo indicates to me when or where this image of an ostrich was taken.

I sure wish that I could afford resveratrol supplements, but I had to give them up something over five years ago after I had to learn to adjust to life on a measly monthly pension.

Resveratrol seems to continually make the research news ─ here are some reports on the latest findings:




Perhaps I will have to try and make a price check the next time I am stocking up on supplements ─ maybe the price has come down since I had to give up resveratrol.


How are your knees? Are they noisy?

If you don't exactly understand that question, then as yet you may not have anything to be concerned about. Here's what the latest research says about noisy knees:






I never had any notable pops or snaps emanating from my knees ─ my problem ever since I was in my mid 20s was a sound akin to that of grinding sand or finely powdered glass. I had damaged mine by running too much on concrete in the wrong style of footwear, and also doing far too many freestyle squats.

I would love to give undenatured type II collagen (UC-II) a try, but once again, a regular supply would come at a cost my pension cannot sustain.

It takes money to live healthily, no matter what anyone may say to the contrary.


Because I take no medications, whenever I read reports detailing various drugs and the numerous problems associated with them, I find myself losing focus or interest.

It is always the same old story.

So why do pharmaceutical companies get such huge financial support from the purchasing public?

This is how bad things are where medications are concerned ─ these reports tell about an investigation into the sordid business of drug marketing:





I'll stick to nutritional supplements.


Well, I guess my youngest stepson Poté didn't go to work after all ─ he wasn't gone as much as four hours.

I had to take a break from this post to lie down and rest my eyes ─ my inadequate sleep was catching up on me. However, I almost fell into a sleep...but then my wife Jack phoned me.

Of all things, she wanted me to take three cooking containers ─ a frying pan and two pots ─ from the dishwasher because they were clean. 

She also took the opportunity to quiz me on whether I had eaten yet. She had meant to take a dish of a few chicken feet with her that she had cooked up, for she enjoys them on occasion. So she's hoping that I will find it within me to try and eat them.

I guess she doesn't plan on being back home too very soon.

Finally, she asked me if Tho was home yet, which of course he was. Upon learning that he was indeed here, so censured him to me because she had just tried phoning him and he never responded ─ I suppose that was why she phoned me.

Well, I had best wind up this post, for it is already after 6:00 p.m., and I never know if my younger brother Mark will get home from the bar early or not.

So here to close with is 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 in a house located on Ninth Street, and about two houses up from Third Avenue.

It was the Victoria Day statutory holiday.
MONDAY, May 24, 1976

I arose 7:45 a.m., my final holiday.

I finished Ron's letter and I'll mail it today.

Bill came over in pretty good time this rather wet day. We went to his place and finished last night's meal.

Later we visited his mother a while.

After that not much resulted; we stayed at his place, while I cooked my last steak with some beans for us. He bought me a small yogurt later.

In the evening Cathy phoned him; they apparently got back about 4:00 p.m., and he thought they wanted us to perhaps visit, though we didn't.

We never saw Norman either.

Right now I'm pretty upset about having to work tomorrow; it's frightening, and I feel alone. I left Bill's about 10:00 p.m., and will retire about 11:10 p.m. providing the landlady and company allow me peace.

God, I'm scared; I wish I were free!
I had recently been hired full-time on what may have been a three- or four-month contract at a New Westminster charitable organization called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends). I had worked there before on a part-time basis of a day per week, serving as a swamper on their blue pick-up truck.

However, as a full time employee, I did not get placed back onto the truck. And I could not understand why ─ I had nothing to do. It was as if I had been hired to just pass the time however I was best able to do so, and it was crushing me.

At least if I was unemployed, I would have been able to do something with my time. But this was cruel. I was being forced to be idle, and it made me feel worthless.

Anyway, the letter I completed that morning and intended to mail was to Ron Bain, an American pen-pal I had.

My old friend William Alan Gill may have been renting a bachelor suite little more than four blocks from my room. The evening before at his suite, we had cooked up a great feed of chuck steak and a chuck roast, and had been unable to eat it all.

Bill's mother Anne Gregory was renting a suite over in Maillardville.

It was my younger brother Mark's girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther who phoned Bill. She and Mark had been camping over the weekend at a place called Silver Creek. 

Now that they were back, maybe they were hoping for some drink-bearing company ─ bars and the liquor stores were closed on Sundays, and maybe even on statutory holidays. There was always a good chance that Bill or I had some drink on hand...but just the day before, we had finished off a dozen ciders that we had. 

Jeanette would have phoned Bill because I didn't have telephone service. Nor a car.

I don't say what time it was that she phoned ─ perhaps it was getting into the evening. I would not have wanted to be going anywhere to socialize if I had to go to work the next day.

The previous evening while I was at Bill's suite, my old friend Norman Richard Dearing had phoned, trying to get us to come over to see him well into Surrey. But by then, Bill and I had completed a very long day, and were not interested in any further activity. Instead, we suggested that we would try to see Norman on the Monday holiday.

Clearly, that was not going to happen, either.
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