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Wednesday, December 6, 2017

In Seniors a Healthy Heart Proves a Must to Avoid Cognitive Decline

Yesterday my wife Jack had worked her second consecutive day this week at a Thai restaurant in the Guildford area, so as she did on Monday, she came home in the evening to spend the night.

I held off going to bed until just ahead of midnight, leaving her sitting at the dining table with the T.V. and her drink for company ─ she was largely engrossed in the screen of her cellphone, paying scant heed to the T.V.

I suppose that I did sink into some small degree of sleep before she came to bed. A peek at the time once the bedroom light was out revealed it to be 1:29 a.m.

A typically poor night of sleep ensued for me.

Toward morning when I heard her speak what was probably a Thai word as she roused to get up from bed, I correctly presumed that her eldest son Tho had again summoned her as he did yesterday to drive his lazy ass to the SkyTrain so that he wouldn't have to bother himself in getting there for the commute to work.   

A peek at the time revealed it to be 5:59 a.m.

I waited until she had exited the bedroom, and then I rose to commence my day.

I was at work on the post I am constructing at one of my six hosted websites when she returned. I believe that she then prepared herself a cup of hot tea before she resumed her bed.

The morning was most frosty, for today has been the second sunny day, so last night was clear.

We are to have an unusually long stretch of this sort of weather due to a peculiarity in the weather in this part of the world. I heard on a T.V. weather report last evening that if this was the Summer, these same sort of weather conditions would be yielding temperatures well into the 30º Celsius range.

So we are getting nice sunny days, but rather frosty nights.

Anyway, once I had completed the morning's assigned supply of content into that website post, I was ready to take some time out on my working younger brother Mark's bed ─ but first I wasted some time in prurient fashion here at my computer.

After covering up with my brother's comforter as I rested on his bed, I doubt I managed to lapse into a nap, but the time I did get there was restful.

After I heard Jack moving about, I rose and went downstairs to join her.

A third mug fortified with instant coffee seems to have me perked up sufficiently to keep me on my feet and alert, so I oughtn't to need a nap this afternoon.

Jack headed out around 1:45 p.m. for somewhere, but she will be back at some point ─ she still has cooking and other things she wants to get done here at home before she returns to Vancouver where she spends most of her week. 

Her youngest son Poté has booked the week off work, so he is also present as I type these words at 2:52 p.m.

I am taking advantage of Jack's absence to begin this blog post. And because I know that I will have limited time, I am foregoing any exercising today.

But speaking of exercise, we generally associate it with having a healthy heart.

However, how many of us consciously equate having a superior cardiovascular system with a sharp mind as we grow older?

A study has found that older folks with weak or impaired hearts are far more susceptible to cognitive decline.

Now doesn't that seem too obvious to ignore and not do something about if it is at all within our power to ensure that we have a strong and healthy heart? 

Who wants to risk senility in their later years because they happened to be too lapse or lazy to maintain a healthy heart?

Here are some reports on that study:





I may well slough off today's activity, but I will definitely get back at it tomorrow.

Naturally, the proper diet also figures into any equation involving a healthy heart and brain.

Switching topics now, in yesterday's post I included three scanned photos that belonged to my mother Irene Dorosh and her husband Alex, and which were date-stamped on the reverse with April 1990 ─ probably the date the roll of film was developed that the images belonged to.

I mentioned in that post that there seemed to be at least one more photo that I had yet to scan, so I have scanned it today and will now post it along with the other three.

The photos were taken at some kind of peace or related march, and I am guessing that the bridge the marchers are on is one somewhere in Vancouver.

This is the scanned photo I uploaded to a Google Plus album today:

And here are the other three that I posted yesterday:

I rather wish that I could tell you more about the event, but I cannot.

As I explained earlier, I know that I do not have much time to put into this post, so I am going to close out now with this 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 not more than two houses up from Third Avenue.

The last words I had previously written in my journal stated that I was leaving my room at 5:00 p.m. on a Saturday to walk over to the New Westminster apartment of Al and Marie Varga ─ they were hosting a bit of a party.

Whatever befell me prevented me from writing anything further until the Monday afterward.

I have little doubt that I will be mentioning my old friend William Alan Gill, who was renting a bachelor suite about four or so blocks from my room. 

He was still sheltering my recently-former girlfriend, 20-year-old Melody St. Jean ─ she and her furniture had been moved into his apartment some weeks back because Bill and Melody had intended to locate accommodation where all three of us could live together.

But then wayward Melody openly allied herself romantically with Chris, a young co-worker of my brother Mark; and I could bear no more of her wayward ways, breaking off from her.

Yet I still seemed to be mooning over her loss.

Bill was likely to attend the Vargas' party, but Mark and Chris ─ who worked at a mill of some sort ─ had a company Christmas party with free booze that they were attending this same Saturday.

Melody would of course be going to it with Chris.

I am curious to learn what became of me from that point at 5:00 p.m. Saturday until I next wrote into my journal on the following Monday.
MONDAY, December 6, 1976

Things dragged 2 nights ago at the Vargas, but we eventually went out ─ with Bill & his mother; and Ken. We went to the Scottsdale Inn.

I suppose I got reasonably drunk, for thereafter we went to Nell's [my maternal Aunt Nell Halverson and her very large household] with 2 cases of beer.

I got bombed there. In fact, I never went home with the others.

Melody & Chris even showed up, and I believe I dealt well with them.

Anyway, I spent the night in Wendy's bed with Larry.

And I stayed there all day Sunday, getting a bit drunk on remaining beer with Bruce.

We had it in mind to go to the States, but couldn't reach the Vargas or Mark.

But after nightfall Mark did come over, wanting also to go to the States. He'd spent the night with Glenna or whomever.

So 4 of us hit Blaine ─ me, Mark, Bruce & Donna. We did ourselves in quite successfully. 

Returning, Mark & Bruce each bought 2 dozen beer which were hidden under the truck's hood. But we were held over at the Border because Mark was deemed impaired, and had his license suspended 24 hours.

To get home it was necessary to call all over looking for 2 licensed sober drivers. 

So Bill came for us, with Al (red-headed) to drive Mark's truck, plus Larry & Jock.

We went to Bruce's and worked on the beer, then finally I drove Mark's truck home, and spent the night.


This morning Bruce phoned, and later came over.

He & I went to the Flamingo Hotel at 1:00 p.m. to meet Donna & Lil.

Some time later I was paged. It was Melody asking I phone a very depressed Art Smith.

I called, but no one answered; likewise with Bill's number.

Just before 3:00 p.m. I left for home; my unemployment insurance claim had to be in today.

It was close to 4:00 p.m. when I got it in.

I've been broke all day; Bruce has been buying. I'm to return to his place at 6:00 p.m. so we can keep a[n] 8 o'clock appointment with the guy who's going to marry them.

I've done no exercise, and am really getting flabby-bellied.

I'm going to go to Bill's and remove the Loto-Canada winning numbers from his newspaper, if he's home. Then I suppose I'll catch a bus and head off for Bruce's.

I'm leaving here 5:15 p.m.


I found Bill home alone; he hadn't seen or heard from Melody since last night, I guess.

My driving school had called, so I phoned and was told my 9:30 a.m. 2 hours of driving training had been pushed back to 1:00 p.m.

I didn't even come close to winning anything in the Loto-Canada.

I left Bill's and caught a bus to Whalley, and wandered around wasting time looking for Bruce's.

Only Randy & Sandy were home. Seems Bruce never got out of the Flamingo, and the 8:00 p.m. session had been cancelled.

I later learned they stayed till 5:00 p.m. or 6:00 p.m., then went to Lil's with some beer.

I arrived at Randy's about 6:40 p.m., and Bruce & Donna didn't come home till 8:00 p.m.

I visited with them till 10:00 p.m.

I tried to phone Bill at one point, but he was out.

He still was out when I walked by coming home.

The session with cleric Melvin is tomorrow at 8:00 p.m., so I am to hit Bruce's about 6:00 p.m. and sup with them.

Bed at 11:50 p.m.

It's rained all day.
I will try to explain this from the very beginning, but first I will tell that Bruce Halverson was one of my Aunt Nell's sons, and Donna Montroy was his fiancée. I was to be Bruce's best man.

Okay, from the Vargas, Ken was Al's nephew, I believe. But I have no memory of him now.

Bill's mother Anne Gregory could certainly party in her heyday!

The Scottsdale Inn no longer exists, but its huge beer parlour or pub was very popular in its time. It used to be located a short ways into Delta from the intersection of 72nd Avenue and Scott Road

I am now unsure just where my Aunt Nell was renting her home ─ the last I knew, it was on 60th Avenue in Surrey

Wendy was her youngest daughter, and possibly 15 or so years old at the time. She must have given up her bed for Larry Ernest Blue and myself ─ Larry was like another of Nell's sons, and into his early 20s.

I remember that incident at the Blaine border rather vaguely. Mark was driving his yellow pickup, and Bruce, Donna, and I were crammed into the front seat beside him.

Apart from Mark being drunk ─ as were we all ─ there were the four dozen beers under the hood that the border officers never checked for.

We had trouble getting anyone willing to come and drive us back in the truck ─ until it was learned that we had four dozen beers hidden under the hood!

Remember, it was late at night on a Sunday. But back then, there were no liquor sales in this part of Canada on a Sunday. It was either do without if no booze had been saved from Saturday; or head across the line (border).

Big Al Stewart was only too happy to accompany Bill and help get Mark's truck and us back to Surrey. The two of them even showed up with eager potential beer-drinking participants Larry and Jock (John), another of Nell's sons. 

Evidently after returning to wherever Bruce and Donna were renting in Whalley and doing some partying there, I drove Mark's truck to his duplex unit just a short distance down Semiahmoo Road from where it joins with Old Yale Road in the Whalley area.

He wasn't willing to risk driving any further that night after his border scare; but I was not licenced to drive. I had only quite recently begun taking classes at John's Driving School in New Westminster. 

I spent the night at Mark's residence, and then got tied up with cousin Bruce the next day (Monday). He had me go with him to the Flamingo Hotel beer parlour or pub to meet up with his fiancée Donna and her mother Lil.

It seems to me that Bruce and Donna lived within easy walking distance of the hotel.

I probably walked back to New Westminster to deliver my Unemployment Insurance claim. But since I was pressed for time to make it back to Whalley for the wedding rehearsal, I took a bus.

All for naught.

It reads like I was unsure of just where it was that Bruce and Donna were living ─ perhaps I never paid sufficient attention when I was drinking there the previous night.

Bruce's older brother Randy and Randy's wife Sandy also lived in the Whalley area, so I probably wound up going there. and eventually then learned that the rehearsal had been cancelled due to drunkenness.

Actually, it is possible that brothers Bruce and Randy were sharing the rental of one large house.

By the way, the page that I received when I was drinking in the hotel ─ Melody had wanted me to get in touch with Art Smith because he was depressed.

Art must have been around 45 years old at this point. He was a former co-worker of mine in New Westminster who was married and had three kids.

He loved to drink. Perhaps he was just depressed because he didn't have anyone to drink with.  

But I could not get an answer at his home when I made a call.

Anyway, after all of the bother about getting myself to Whalley that evening for the reception that I did not realize had been cancelled, I expect that I walked back to my room in New Westminster and did not waste money on a bus. 

My final driving road lesson ─ I only had two in all on the course ─ was scheduled for the next day.

Well, back to the present, it is now 4:46 p.m., and still Jack is not back. I am going to proofread this post and get it published.

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