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Saturday, November 25, 2017

A Few Tips to Help Avoid Suffering While Participating as a Diner at a Holiday Feast


My younger brother Mark had a fairly early appointment this morning at his banking institution involving his investments and his upcoming retirement, so he called it quits last night at 11:00 p.m. where watching T.V. was concerned.

That suited me. I was probably in bed before 11:20 p.m.

It wasn't a great night's sleep for me. Once my sleep began breaking up at the approach of morning, I probably rose around 6:15 a.m.

I was comfortable enough in bed ─ I just wanted to get started working on the post I am constructing at one of my six hosted websites.

My youngest stepson Poté must have had to work today. He eventually rose, and at 8:15 a.m. headed out the front door to drive to work.

My websites and my daily blog keep me so busy that I have not actually laid eyes upon him since Thursday ─ I have only heard him at times in the house.

Of course, he worked both of those days, too, so he was not always home. He is also in and out of the house as things are.

Thus, I have yet to congratulate him on his 20th birthday that arrived on Friday. I can't help but wonder if he is conscious that the milestone has gone unremarked by me.

I can't do anything for the lad ─ following the monthly mortgage debit from my chequing account on Wednesday, not $10 remains in the balance. And I have no cash on hand.

I won't receive my monthly pension until sometime in the coming week.

However, neither Poté nor his older brother Tho contributed to that mortgage payment, so they are responsible for the paucity of my chequing account balance.

In a very real sense, Poté has already received a birthday present from me ─ 100% free room and board. 

I have no cause to feel at all remiss in being unable to present him with anything. A birthday congratulation is all I need to feel obliged to offer him.

I will do so yet.

We've had a dry but overcast day.

Mark kept his appointment.

I spent much of the morning building the website post I spoke of. I resisted seeking a nap until I had supplied 1½ mornings' worth of expected content ─ and maybe even two mornings' worth ─ into the post.

I may be able to complete and publish it tomorrow.

The nap was needed. I know that I was down for over 80 minutes, but I am unsure how near to two hours my time abed was.

Mark was home and watching T.V. when I rose. He never did take a nap, so I am glad that he usually spends Saturday nights at the home of his girlfriend Bev, for his brain will likely be especially vulnerable to the ravages of the beer he'll be swilling this evening.

In other words, I oughtn't to have to endure his unpleasant drunken company. The plan for me is to watch a Christmas movie this evening while enjoying a couple cans of beer.

It sure is nice having Christmas music on the radio station our stereo is tuned in to! That began mid-morning yesterday, so I should be benefiting from that until probably midday Boxing Day.

I noticed around 3:00 p.m. when I went out to the backyard tool shed to perform my daily pull-ups that it had begun spitting rain well enough to start wetting surfaces.

When I came back into the house, I never even got here to my computer to update matters when my youngest stepson Poté arrived home, and I got to congratulate him on his birthday.

He worked at least 15 hours yesterday, he said, for he has a temporary second job. And although he only worked at his regular job today, he was beat ─ he intended going to bed.

I had spoken with his older brother Tho yesterday about the desire of their mother that the two boys come over to Southeast Asia during her month-long visit to Thailand to see her mother ─ she has a mid-January flight booked.

Both lads are looking at making the trip, but thus far it is speculative. Tho does not dare to go to Thailand because he is a Thai citizen as well as a Canadian, and it is a Thai law that all Thai males at the age of 21 must face enrollment into the military.

Tho is 23, and has not been in Thailand since he was 14, I believe it was.

If he goes there and is found out, he might be faced with the enlistment lottery.

It just isn't worth the risk.

So if the lads went overseas, it would be to a neighbouring country ─ Poté even speculated Japan.

But nothing is certain yet as to if the boys will even go.

Let's change topics ─ to big meals, such as Thanksgiving or Christmas, for example.

I read some good advice today to help with avoiding from suffering the consequences of overeating.

Although it is good to try and confront the meal with as empty a stomach as possible, it is no help to be feeling famished ─ folks who eat as if they are starving can be stuffed in under 10 minutes.

The advice is to engage in conversation as much as possible, and even put down the utensils for a goodly pause after every mouthful or two.

The meal shouldn't be virtually inhaled. Taking one's time in consuming the repast allows the stomach to actually enlarge naturally to accommodate the incoming food.

The next bit of advice isn't too practical if the diner is not at home ─ or maybe at a close relative's home. The advice is to lie down after eating for maybe 10 or even 15 minutes ─ but do so on the left side, for it helps the stomach to "gracefully and effortlessly" empty into the small intestine as digestion proceeds.

Lying on the right side ─ or not lying at all ─ does definitely interfere with the ease with which the stomach is able to naturally empty itself.

Gravity can even cause emptying of the stomach prematurely, resulting in the dreaded heartburn or indigestion fires.

Another consequence is a buildup of discomforting gaseous bloat.

If lying down is not feasible, the next best thing is to try and lean to the left for the duration instead. That might be difficult to do without looking...well, weird. 

Ideal after the rest is a leisurely, relaxing walk.

Eating while watching T.V. will encourage pigging-out ─ or face-stuffing. The diner eats mechanically. The same thing will probably happen when eating while standing up.

And don't weaken to temptation just before the meal and begin eating bread that might have been put out. With what's to come, bread isn't even a good idea to be eating any of at all.

I am going to try and remember those tips. However, avoiding eating in front of the T.V. is not possible here at home. I will just have to try and pace myself.

My next topic concerns my scanner. My Epson WorkForce 610 all-in-one printer became useless a few months back because the black ink cartridge was no longer being recognized as a result of some bleeding of the ink that ensued when I was messing around with the device.

As a result of the dominant printer not recognizing the black ink cartridge, the device is designed in such a way that it will do nothing until all ink cartridges are in functioning order ─ and so the scanner could not be used, despite having nothing whatsoever to do with printer ink.

This is Epson's ploy to force customers to keep buying expensive new ink cartridges, even if the customers have no intention to be printing and just want to use the scanner.

Without a functioning scanner any longer, I had been using my iPhone 5 to take photos of images that I wanted to upload into my Google Plus albums in order to post the images here in my blog, but it is difficult to align the subject photo perfectly.

Also, artificial lighting can result in glare on the subject photo, so it becomes necessary to take the iPhone 5 shot with only natural lighting from outdoors. And at this time of year, there is usually only gloomy weather out there.

But yesterday on a whim, I tested the scanner...and it worked!

So I now have a few original photos that were captured with my iPhone 5, and which have also now been scanned.

The following two are just such a case comparison, with the scanned photo being the second image:



I have no idea who the couple are, for the photo is from my mother Irene Dorosh's collection. My hunch is that they are merely another couple who were on the chartered bus tour that my mother and her husband Alex were on, and which may have involved Yellowstone National Park.

A further guess is that it all may have taken place during the 1980s, but it might have been the 1990s.

And now I am going to close today's post with an old journal entry of mine from 41 years ago when I was 27 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting in a private home located on Ninth Street, and no more than two houses up from Third Avenue. I actually believe that I know the address, but I am deliberately avoiding singling out the specific house.

My mother and her husband Alex were away on a two-week trip to somewhere; and since their little home off in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey was my main mailing address, I intended to try and pay a visit there as regularly as I could.

I was unemployed and did not drive, so I walked anywhere that it was possible to reasonably hike to. 

In the instance of my mother's home, the hike would take about 1½ hours at a fast pace.

The house no longer exists, so I do not mind revealing its address: 12106 - 90th Avenue

I had just recently broken up with my unfaithful 20-year-old girlfriend, Melody St. Jean. She had taken up with Chris, a young co-worker of my younger brother Mark.

I often pined badly for her, and I undoubtedly would have taken back up with her if she made herself available to me. However, she and Chris were away on a several-day driving tour of the province in his big, fancy pickup.

Mark lived less than three miles from our mother's home, so I seemed to be doing a lot of visiting to his duplex unit that may have been located a short distance down Semiahmoo Road from Old Yale Road. 

In fact, since he had to drive through New Westminster to get to work, I had spent two or three consecutive nights at his duplex unit, and rode into New Westminster with him the following mornings.

I was collecting Unemployment Insurance (U.I.) from the federal department of Manpower and Immigration, and quite regularly dropping into the local Manpower offices in New Westminster to check the latest job postings. 

Concerning Melody, she had been living in the bachelor suite of my old friend William Alan Gill, which was maybe four or so blocks from my room. She had moved her furniture there after quitting her job, and the original scheme had been that they would find accommodation where all three of us could live.

That had been over three weeks earlier.

But in the first week, Bill had fallen in love with her, and resented having me around. He had even abetted Melody's involvement with Chris, foolishly thinking that by breaking her and I up, then he would stand a chance with her.

However, he had gone into quite a lot of debt, and had started skipping out on his job just to be around Melody ─ only to get a two-week suspension. 

In the 30-year-old's defence, he weighed well over 300 pounds, and had never had a girlfriend ─ his unrealistic machinations could perhaps be understandable. 

I only had a very cluttered room suitable for myself ─ there was no space for anyone else such as Melody to be living with me, let alone her extra furniture.
THURSDAY, November 25, 1976

I got up at 6:00 a.m., having slept quite well.

The Golden Sweepstakes occurs today, with top prizes of $100,000; $20,000; $10,000; $5,000; five of $1,000; and 100 of $100. If I win big enough, Melody will hear from me, most vigorously; and though he may not deserve it, I'd even clear up my treacherous friend Bill's debts. 

No later than 7:40 a.m. I left to see if I could catch a Marine bus so I could apply at B.C. Hydro, but there were none.

Bill's car now has the CB aerials off.

I hung around till Manpower opened, then perused the ads.

On my way up 6th St. I met Cindy on her way to her BJRT course; she said Esther had a call from Melody early this week saying she'd likely be back on Wednesday. Is she?

It's going to be quite sunny today.

I learned through investigation that the B.C. Wildlife Federation owes me a Provincial Lottery ticket.

My unemployment insurance cheque ($144) came today, surprisingly. I'll cash it on my way to mom's, leaving before 11:00 a.m.; likely I'll buy a $10 money order for lottery tickets.
All of this focus on lotteries was utter desperation.

That last sentence was where the journal entry ended that day, so obviously I did not come home later that day to update the journal entry. 

I now am unclear who Cindy was that I met on Sixth Street as she walked to her Manpower-sponsored (I think) Basic Job Readiness Training (BJRT) course. I had once attended the course, too ─ it was held somewhere in the reasonable vicinity of Queens Avenue, and in a good-sized building that even had a gymnasium.

"Esther" St. Jean was Melody's mother.

Okay, back to the present. It is now 5:03 p.m. as I type this.

I had intended to have my first meal of the day after the afternoon pull-ups earlier, but Poté's arrival home prevented me ─ and I still have not fixed anything to eat.

It is likely I will be eating just a supper today.

Anyway, I shall proofread this blog post, and then get it published ─ I am very much looking forward to a Christmas movie and a couple of cans of beer this evening!

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