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Friday, December 29, 2017

Growing Nostalgic


It would seem that I am essentially back to normal after four days of somewhat steady drinking ─ this sort of thing always leaves me feeling apprehensive and forlorn.

I had quite a night of broken sleep, but it was dream-filled and I was always comfortable enough laying there in bed.

I think I made it to bed last evening at 11:05 p.m., and never called it quits this morning until maybe 7:19 a.m. ─ so I was in bed just over eight hours.

My youngest stepson Poté was not home when I went to bed, but the kitchen light was on when I got up, and I soon heard him bustling about; and he left around 7:39 a.m. to drive himself to work.

His older brother Tho had left for work long before; and my younger brother Mark long before Tho.

It is good to be home alone.

We are into the second day of a fairly steady and generally light rain, and the snow is much reduced from what I last saw of it yesterday.

I busied myself with the morning's assignment of content supply at the post I have been constructing at Lawless Spirit, one of my six hosted websites.

I would very much like to have the post finished and published no later than the final day of the year ─ but it is going to be a hard-won accomplishment, I fear.

I could have easily doubled the amount of content this morning, but I stopped in order to ready for a grocery shopping hike to the Save-On-Foods store at least 1¼ miles away in Whalley.

It was 10:55 a.m. by the time I had readied and was on my way, and finding the cold rain at that point to be a little harder and frigid than I had anticipated. I was soon feeling the equivalent of the 'brain-freeze' that one might experience from sucking down an icy slush drink.

Apparently this is one of the perils of having a shaven head, and wearing no kind of cover such as a toque or hood.

As I am wont to do to and from Save-On-Foods, I passed through Surrey Place (Central City); I confirmed that three old scratch lottery tickets I brought with me were indeed losers. I had been given them on my birthday. 

I was back home again around 12:09 p.m.

For whatever reason, I no longer felt like keeping the stereo radio station tuned into the contemporary fare it was playing. I think being out had put some of the sense of Christmas back into me ─ and I hate seeing yet another year soon to die off.

So I turned on the T.V. and now have Christmas music playing via one of the specialty music stations that Shaw offers ─ I think the station is channel 461.

And then I came upstairs here and got to work on this post.

First, though, I always check my AdSense account to see if I have been blessed with a virtual miracle.

I had not been, I found; but it was nice to see that today 14¢ had been accumulated in my day's balance. To put that in perspective, over the previous 28 days, all I earned were 12¢ ─ in other words, not even a cent every two days.

So gaining fourteen of them in one day is almost like a small gift after such a poor showing thus far this month.

Anyway, it's not all about blogging. I also involved myself in a few other enterprises this afternoon, including some pull-ups out in the backyard tool shed.

However, everything does take time, and my afternoon inexorably wore on. And as the light of day ─ what light of day there was ─ began to noticeably reduce in the as-yet early afternoon, I began feeling some wistfulness.

No doubt some of it was due to the Christmas music playing on the T.V. station. But there is so much else ─ such as regrets, both distant in time, and also relatively recent.

Dang it.

I think I will just bring today's post to a close and seek myself a Christmas movie, and have some spiced rum. It will soon be dark.

First, though, I want to post the following two pages from an old TV Guide that I had removed from it.

But I ought to explain that I was an enormous fan of The Avengers ─ so much so that there was a period of about two years in the second half of the 1960s (when I was in the second half of my teen years), I was in love with Emma Peel.

Of course, that love was transferred over to actress Diana Rigg since the two personas were identical as far as I was concerned.

I used to fantasize of somehow getting over to London and somehow meeting up with her in some dramatic fashion ─ maybe in Hyde Park ─ and winning her interest and soon love.

Even though I knew she was older than I was ─ she's got better than 11 years on me.

Anyway, I collected a few images of the actress whenever I came across them in something like a TV Guide or other periodical.

You can see from the date on one of the following two pages, this edition of TV Guide was February 17, 1973:



Now to finish this trip into my past, here is an old journal entry 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 do not wish to precisely identify the house).

The main days of the Christmas holiday were now just behind me (just as they are today).

I had been spending a lot of time in the company of my younger brother Mark, who was then renting a duplex unit that I believe was just a fairly short distance down Semiahmoo Road from where it leads off from Old Yale Road in Surrey.

It was a Wednesday, and I had hiked back to my room from Mark's suite late the night before ─ he had been stuck with an afternoon / evening shift at the mill that employed him, so I had been alone for some time before I finally left on that trek.

I didn't get to bed until 1:10 a.m.
WEDNESDAY, December 29, 1976

I got up at the sound of my alarm at 4:00 a.m. to go to the school track for 13 laps, just as in the days of old 4 months back when Melody was so certain she loved me and just had to get me to notice and go out with her.

I don't believe I mentioned that I took a photo of dad & Marie [Maria Fadden, my father Hector's girlfriend] and Mark on Boxing Day, nor that my pre-meal weight at mom's yesterday was about 192 [pounds]; Alex [my mother's husband] seems to have taken the entire week off.


[The Boxing Day photo of Mark, our father, and Maria Fadden.]

Leaving to launder this morning, I found a note from my "neighbor...upstairs" wishing me a "merry xmas...and a happy New Year."

I almost bought some Marvels, but settled on a TV Guide.

Back home, I finished up a brief letter to Jean [Jean Michelle Martin (née Black), a U.S. pen-pal I had] I began earlier.

Now to return to bed by 10:00 a.m. and continue my night's sleep.

*****

Boy, I had some short nap! I got up at 1:10 ᴘᴍ! So much for the Laurel & Hardy feature I wanted to watch at 2 ᴘᴍ at Mark's.

After I  mail my letter, I believe I'll head for Safeway in Whalley and buy some flour, and maybe peanut butter too; natch, I'll then  make Mark's.

I'm leaving here by 1:25 p.m.
And so the journal entry ended for that day. I probably spent the night at Mark's suite and rode back into town with him in the afternoon when he headed for work.

No doubt the following day's journal entry will have updated matters.

I fell very hard for 20-year-old Melody St. Jean ─ she had tried for about three years to interest me in her. And then after she had me, all she did was belittle me and finally openly cheat.

And that was that.

It was likely apparent that I used a laundromat for my laundry ─ I believe that it was up on Sixth Avenue near the public library, and opened at 8:00 a.m.

Concerning an upstairs neighbour, my journal has mentioned that she was a young woman, but I cannot remember ever seeing her, let alone meeting her.


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