.dropcap {float:left; color:#4791d2; font-size:75px; line-height:60px; padding-top:4px; padding-right:8px; padding-left:3px; font-family:Georgia}

Google+ Followers


Saturday, June 17, 2017

More Benefits for Coffee Consumption │ Skip the NSAID Pain Medication for Knee Osteoarthritis ─ Chondroitin Proven Every Bit as Effective

Last evening was one of those in which I wish that my younger brother Mark would spend more nights staying with his girlfriend Bev on the weekends. Normally, the best I can hope for is that he will stay there on a Saturday night, but that is not always sure.

His brain under excessive alcohol makes him act utterly dotty. He talks in a softly lilting or sing-song tone like some manner of simpleton, and seems to think he is the epitome of all that is amusing.  

He is too far gone to realize that he isn't speaking to some other drunk whose own brain has decayed to his level. I finally blew up at him for being nonsensical and unaware, to which he continued in his silly voice, "And now you're mad at me...." 

It was said as if he was still playing some senilely childish game with someone else who was as mentally reduced as was he.

And then I saw that the drunken buffoon was not even paying attention ─ he was sitting in his chair before the living room T.V. with his eyes tightly closed, just seconds away from passing entirely out.

Sometimes when he has passed out like this, he will suddenly speak out some seemingly spontaneous utterance that is no doubt directed toward someone he is imagining in his phantasm-filled delirium. But last evening, he actually spoke aloud about five sentences strung together that had something to do with the borrowing of money.

He presents a pathetic figure, and I cannot understand why he continues to embrace alcohol to that degree ─ surely those he drinks with must witness his descent into the embarrassing foppery that I commonly have to put up with? 

I don't know what the problem with out Android TV Box was last evening, but it only managed to access one T.V. programme that I searched for. I had to give it up and tune in a movie, but even those would not be accessed by using the search function. I had to resort to selecting the category of "New Movies" and choose one from the listing there.

It was already just after 10:00 p.m., so I did not want a terribly long movie. And so I ended up with one titled Get Out. I probably should have selected a comedy.

I could see that it was probably some sort of horror movie. I just didn't know what the sinister family behind it all was involved in ─ were they maybe cannibals?

Usually movies like this end most unsatisfyingly. The hapless central character is not going to arise victorious over the evil confronting him or her; and the monstrous villain triumphs, or at least survives, to potentially perpetrate the same unspeakable atrocities upon some new innocent victim(s).

Thankfully, that was not the case with this movie, even though I was never quite certain that an evil family member was not at the last moment going to gain the upper hand from out of nowhere, and overcome our innocent central character with most deadly finality.

I wasn't able to limit myself to just one can of beer ─ not so much because of how caught up in the movie I was, but because of how irritated Mark has made me. But at least I only drank two, all told.

Mark revived well before the movie ended; and barely in possession of enough mental strength to function, he stumbled his way to the stairs and went on up to his bedroom for the night. 

Thanks to the movie, my own bedtime was very near to midnight.

Let me say here that of course I love my brother; but I care nothing for that bizarre aberration that is created though heavy consumption of alcohol. He reminds me so very much of our father when he would drink himself into a degenerative state.

Anyway, as usual my night's sleep was very fragmented, and I rose once to use the bathroom and drink some water. I did my best to remain abed after I had perceived it to be daylit outside ─ I had donned a blindfold during the night to reduce the early daytime's effect upon my efforts to sleep. 

It was 7:20 a.m. when I finally checked the time and rose so that I could have my first mug of a hot blend of coffee / cocoa, and get to work adding more content into the post I am building at my Lawless Spirit website.

Mark probably rose around 9:00 a.m. or soon after.

I never mentioned last night to him ─ it would be useless. It would all be blacked out, and he is an entirely different personality now ─ it was Mr. Hyde who was present last evening.

Apart from an initial exchange of a "Good morning," we never spoke to one another at all until he announced that he was "heading out" in the early afternoon ─ all very amicable. However, he had sought a nap in the latter morning, and I resorted to my own bedroom for one around 12:17 p.m. ─ I was in bed for at least 50 minutes. He was up by then, and fussing with some work on his van.

As I said earlier, if all goes well, he will spend tonight at the home of his girlfriend Bev and I will have the T.V. to myself. My two stepsons never watch T.V. with Mark or I. Besides, they each have a girlfriend, so I may actually find myself entirely alone in the house, and not just in the living room with the T.V.

After Mark had gone, I soon got busy and set up a new batch ─ two containers' worth ─ of vegetables I hope will naturally ferment. I had to use two containers because the green cabbage I had bought for this purpose was so huge.

After shredding and tearing it up into pieces, there was scant room for the two big leeks, a crown of broccoli, and the two kohlrabies I also intended to ferment with the cabbage.

And thus the second somewhat smaller container.

Beyond the vegetables, I only added enough water to pretty much cover everything, and then I added sea salt rather liberally across the top of the exposed vegetables.

The bacteria responsible for the fermentation are just naturally present. I will thoroughly mix the batches up once a day hereafter in order to avoid mold growth at the surface, and I can be eating the stuff no later than Thursday ─ it becomes similar in taste to sauerkraut.

It's a wondrous blend of probiotics and prebiotics

With all of that set up, around 3:00 p.m. I changed into a pair of gym-style shorts and then headed out to the backyard tool shed to have myself what presently constitutes a full exercise session. The day has been exclusively overcast, so it was not excessively warm out there.  

And then for the first time today, I made myself a small meal which I ate around 4:00 p.m.

Thereafter, I spent some while involved with a telephone connection to Krisitine, an Amazon.ca agent attempting to assist me with getting back into my account with them. I had placed an order last month on behalf of my brother Mark, but have since discovered that I was no longer able to access my account.

Some major development must have gone on recently at Amazon.com that has screwed up my accounts at Amazon.ca and at Amazon.co.uk.

Kristine never could help me access my old Canadian Amazon account, even though she was able to see my order. We reset my password to match the U.S. Amazon account, for the various Amazons no longer allow the same E-mail address to have a different password at two international Amazons.

Unfortunately, using that U.S. Amazon password only allows me access to a brand new Canadian account ─ my previous Canadian order history is evidently no longer accessible by me.   

I would like to now post the following scan of a postcard image and its description on the reverse ─ the postcard was a souvenir that my mother Irene Dorosh and her husband Alex brought back from one of their chartered tours of the U.S.S.R. in the 1970s and 1980s:

That description is quite difficult to discern, but it is in both Russian and Ukrainian, I would expect, as well as the following English:
Zaporozhye. 700-year-old Zaporozhian oak, unique monument of nature.
An article in Wikipedia on Zaporizhia indicates that it is part of Ukraine. However, to find any mention of any kind of famous oak, one must refer to the Wikipedia article (in rather poor English) Khortytsia.

A far better source of information on the oak ─ but again, in quite poor English ─ is at Zotic.zp.ua in an article titled Zaporozhian oak. It tries to extend the age of the oak to 900 years.  

But let's move on....

If you are a coffee-drinker, the following information from NewMarketHealth.com ought to interest you in positive fashion:
No matter what you call it -- joe, java, diesel or brew -- coffee is one of the healthiest habits you can indulge in.

On top of keeping you sharp and awake, it's previously been shown to reduce the risk of dying.

And now, we are learning that it can keep your liver healthy as well.

The latest findings on the health benefits of coffee come from researchers at the University of Southampton and the University of Edinburgh -- both surprisingly in the U.K., a country more associated with loving a spot of tea.

After analyzing the results of 26 studies involving 2.25 million participants, they concluded that drinking a single cup of coffee a day can reduce the risk of the most common form of liver cancer by 20 percent, and a second cup by another 15 percent.

And if you happen to be a real java junkie and drink up to five cups a day, you can actually cut that risk in half, the researchers noted.

Professor Peter Hayes of the University of Edinburgh said that this new study adds to the "evidence" that coffee can be a "wonderful natural medicine."

Besides helping to prevent liver cancer, coffee has also been found to reduce your chance of getting the liver-scarring disease known as cirrhosis. In fact, another study done last year at the University of Southampton concluded that just two cups a day reduced the risk of cirrhosis by 44 percent, and of dying from the condition by nearly half.

While decaf was found to offer some liver protection, caffeinated coffee turned out, in this study at least, to offer more benefits.

There is one area where coffee isn't perfect, however, and that's the high amounts of pesticides typically used on the crop.

But that can be easily fixed by choosing an organic blend, something that's now available just about everywhere.
Here are a couple of other reports on the main study:



We drink instant coffee here at home ─ I ensure that we are kept in a supply of the large tins of Nescafé Rich Blend

One other study worth mentioning concerns knee osteoarthritis ─ I don't know if I suffer from it, but I certainly do have degraded knee cartilage from too many years of running.

I have posted about this study before, but anyone taking NSAID painkillers like Celebrex needs to be aware that he or she does not need to be taking something as harmful as that:



I wish that I could afford to add these helpful supplements to my nutritional regimen, but I just cannot ─ the realities of a retirement pension income dictate otherwise.

That Amazon business took awhile, so I am running somewhat late with this post. Consequently, I am going to phase out now with this 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 on Ninth Street, and about two houses up from Third Avenue.

For several weeks, I had been employed full-time on what may only have been a three-month contract with a New Westminster charitable organization called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends) that is today known as Fraserside Community Services Society.

The old building housing S.A.N.E. in those earliest years was torn down long ago, but it was located where the New Westminster SkyTrain Station today spreads forth onto Carnarvon Street.

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

It was after midnight before I made it to bed the evening before this day's journal entry.
THURSDAY, June 17, 1976

Anxious about sleeping too long, I finally had to get up at 5:30 a.m. I'm tired.

About 7:30 a.m. I returned to bed, arousing nearly at 9:00 a.m. and feeling some improved.

My morning progressed fairly well, working in the shop. Took didn't come in. 

Before I did, though, I bought $5.04 of groceries at Safeway.

Next I went to Woodward's (at lunch) and bought 2 money orders: $3 for a Western Lottery ticket for Mark, and $12 for stamps. I also bought a can of Woodward's peanut butter, discovering it to have climbed to $2.49 from $2.25.

Boy is it sunny! I hope it lasts the week-end.

David was waiting for me when I got back.

Bill said he'd be home about 8:30 p.m., so I'll go over tonight to read his Columbian meat ads, mailing my money orders along the way. 

It was at least 8:50 p.m. when I buzzed him, but he wasn't home. The jerk! If I ever gain independence ─ private quarters and a colour TV on cablevision ─ he's gonna get tit for tat; then we'll see how important all his running around is.

My bedtime shall be about 9:50 p.m. 

Or so I thought when I wrote it. Bill came, bringing today's as well as yesterday's newspaper.

He saw his doctor today, and is now confronting the possibility of an intestinal by-pass operation. The poor guy. He's to see a specialist tomorrow, and will come over in the evening for the typewriter for Cathy; I might go too. 

He's considering a will.

Bed at 10:30 p.m. 
"Took" was an Indigenous Canadian working at S.A.N.E. He was at least into his 30s, and a very nice guy, but he was always bumming me for a loan. We had gotten paid two days earlier, and he paid me back $5 I was afraid I was never going to see; and then just the previous day, he got $20 off me.

And now he skipped work? 

I often went home for lunch. On this day, I went right to Sixth Avenue to visit Woodward's ─ it used to be where the Royal City Centre Mall now is. Woodward's peanut butter ─ I think that it was natural, and not homogenized ─ was probably my favourite for taste.

Philip David Prince was an old friend of mine who had a room in New Westminster, but who knew that if he wanted to see me, he would have to catch me working at S.A.N.E. I didn't want company, so just about always feigned being absent when he came knocking. And I always did my best to avoid promising to visit him ─ he was just too hard to extricate from.

I am sorry about that now. I miss him.

Another old friend ─ William Alan Gill ─ was renting a bachelor suite perhaps four blocks from my room. He could prove to be very unreliable at times. Apparently he was getting on my nerves this day, inconveniencing me just once too often of late.

He worked hard at a now defunct cannery in New Westminster ─ Royal City Foods. Unfortunately for Bill, he did undergo that surgery. He tried to return to work, but was spending as much as half of his shift in the toilet, so they finally got him placed onto a partial disability pension under the Canada Pension Plan as a means of 'nicely' letting him go.

The poor soul never worked again, and had to make do with that limited income from that time forth.

No one should accept surgery for weight loss without dumping the carbohydrates from his or her diet first. Carbohydrates are making everyone fat.
Post a Comment