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Saturday, December 9, 2017

Yet Another Article Largely Extolling the Benefits of Lots of Coffee-Drinking

I don't think that I was to bed too long after 11:00 p.m. last night ─ maybe around 11:15 p.m.?

My younger brother Mark was especially tired, so he called the evening in front of the T.V. quits around 11:00 p.m., and that freed me up to shut things down.

It's interesting why Mark was so weary.

As I do not disguise, he drinks excessively just about every evening, often passing out in his living room chair.

Well, after such an evening Thursday, he hauled himself up to his bedroom for the night.

Note that he normally keeps his clock-radio set for anywhere from 4:10 a.m. to 4:20 a.m. to rouse him in the morning to begin readying for his workday ─ he keeps a talk-radio station tuned in.

Anyway, he rose and went to his ensuite shower room, relieved himself, and then proceeded to shower.

Once done, he was brushing his teeth, when he began wondering why his radio was silent ─ he hadn't turned it off, so the talk-show that is normally on when he rises should be playing.

So he checked the time ─ and found that it was only around 1:30 a.m.

His radio never had come on to waken him. He must have simply risen to use the toilet; and once he had used it, his alcohol-addled brain automatically created the notion that he was up to begin readying for work.

And so he did.

Naturally, after a shower and the chore of brushing his teeth, he had sufficiently awakened that a return to sleep was no easy matter.

And thus it was that he had to start his day less than three hours later with far less sleep than he normally manages.

But he punishes himself ─ he can blame no one else.

This morning, he rose more than three hours after I did. 

However, I have a rough time remaining in bed once my sleep starts fragmenting for very long.

I remember checking the time and seeing it to be 6:09 a.m., and with relief rallying to get myself up because it had become so uncomfortable trying to find any further sleep by then.

Just briefly the thought entered my mind that my eldest stepson Tho might not yet have left for work, but then I realized that it was the weekend and neither he nor Mark would be working today.

I spent a lot of time today finalizing the post I have been working on since November 27 at Latin Impressions, one of my six hosted websites. I did not want to have to spend any part of another day on it.

So now the post is published: Two Silver II.

If you are wondering what the phrase "two silver" might possibly refer to, that was the quandary where the original post was concerned, and which this one succeeds or extends upon. 

There never was anything specifically defined, so that left the post wide open. It is a broad mishmash of all manner of articles relating to sports, business, research, various products ─ heck, the post is apparently over 19,600 words long, for Pete's sake!

I put all of that time and effort into the post, yet when I checked the WordPress statistics this morning for visitors over the past 28 days, there were absolutely none on each of the following days: November 12, 14 & 15, 18, 21, 27, and 29; and December 2, and 5 through 8. As well, there had been no visitors yet today at that point when I checked.

Those are an excruciating total number of days with zero visitors for a website that has been online since probably early 2010.

Barring a miracle, I do not see how I can bother to retain ownership once its hosting contract runs out. It has been a black hole.

I needed a nap late in the morning, so I was probably back to bed no later than 11:00 a.m. I was likely down about 70 minutes, and definitely benefited from a nap.

The night had been clear after an entirely foggy day yesterday, and we had considerable blue sky today, with some hazy stretches of cloud.

I got my pull-ups done in the first half of the afternoon, and was actually feeling rather strong at them.

I had an interesting experience just after I opened the shed door and walked inside ─ I was suddenly practically strafed from behind by a small bird that came streaking in and then right back out.

Initially the thought struck me that I was being strafed by a bat, but I noticed that it seemed too brown, and it flew with a directness that I wouldn't expect from a bat.

Anyway, after the bit of exercise, I had a very light meal ─ my first of the day ─ around 2:00 p.m.

Mark left for the day around the expiration of the noon-hour. He was having his own nap when I rose from mine.

Provided that he and his girlfriend Bev get along this evening, I ought to have the T.V. to myself and will be able to enjoy a Christmas movie along with a couple of cans of beer ─ maybe even three, if the evening's viewing proves emotionally engrossing.

I was tempted to have a third hot beverage today in the latter afternoon as I have worked on this blog post, but I don't want to have my sleep potentially affected ─ the caffeine might delay my final surrender into sleep.

But there does seem to be a lot of buzz lately that the more coffee we drink, the better off are our health and well-being.

If you love your coffee, then enjoy this article:


More is promised at the end of that article on the topic of coffee, and in fact the next article's title is even presented.

Since the present article was published on December 2, I decided to do a Google search to see if maybe the promised article has already been published by now.

Well, I found an article at the same website with that precise title...but it was published back on June 18, 2015: Coffee: The Good, The Bad, and The Ayurvedic Perspective

What is even more curious is the video in that older article ─ it bears the same title as the article. But if you go directly to where the video is housed at YouTube, you will see that it was uploaded there on January 11, 2012.

This leaves me wondering if the promised article is merely going to be the older one republished to look new; or if the author honestly does not realize that he already has an article by that title, and intends to create yet another?

Time will tell.

But it's a good article, nevertheless ─ I am not intending to detract from it.

Okay, now I want to post this scan I made of a photo ─ the unhelpful description beneath it is from the Google Plus album where I have the scan filed:

I can offer no details as to location for this old photo that belonged to my mother Irene Dorosh and her husband Alex.

All I can offer is the date the photo was apparently developed ─ the reverse has the date July 1989 stamped on it.
I remembered a photo that I had scanned long before which this one rather reminded me of, so I searched it out, and discovered that it also was date-stamped July 1989:

Neither my mother nor Alex are alive any longer, so the actual location of these scenes will have to remain unknown.

I want to open up my evening, so I am going to close today's post 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.

My mother and her husband Alex had been away on a trip that apparently involved some gambling in what was likely Nevada.

They had been away for about two weeks. 

I hiked out to see my mother the day prior to this entry, but she had gone bowling and was not home. I was to learn that on my way to the house, I passed her on Scott Road while she awaited a bus on the opposite side of the street, but I never looked in her direction, nor heard her calling out to me.

The hike to get to her home from my room was 1½ hours at a fast pace. The house was my main mailing address. And although the small dwelling no longer exists, its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue

I never did see my mother that day, but she did phone me to explain that our paths had crossed. She wanted me to wait around, but it was getting on, and I felt that I needed to get on home.

It was around 9:50 a.m. when I left my room to pay the visit. And it was 4:00 p.m. when I commenced the long walk back to my room.

I had been at my mother's house for maybe 5½ hours.

I promised that I would come back the following day ─ Thursday, the day of this specific journal entry ─ an unusually brief journal entry.

My bedtime had been 9:00 p.m. the evening just before.
THURSDAY, December 9, 1976

I'm going to be tired today. I've been awake since at least soon after 2:00 a.m., and arose before 3:00 a.m.

It was too early to type a letter to Terri even near 5:00 a.m., so when that hour descends, I shall be on my way to mom's via the King George to Kennedy Rd; I've got to do something about my intaken calories.

I'll mail Jean's letter at the start.
And there ended the day's journal entry ─ something obviously was to befall me to prevent me writing any further that day.

Kennedy Road was 88th Avenue. This was a longer route than I normally would have taken to arrive at my mother's home.

I mentioned two letters to American pen-pals: Terri Martin and Jean Michelle Martin (née Black) ─ the two ladies were unrelated.

I must have been too loath to type the letter to Terri so early in the morning for concern of disturbing my landlady upstairs.

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