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Friday, April 20, 2018

Just Another (Friday) at Home

It may not yet have been 12:30 a.m. last night when I let my wife Jack know that I was heading on upstairs to bed after my younger brother Mark and I had finished with T.V. for the night ─ Jack was in the kitchen fixing up a small meal for herself, and keeping an eye on the T.V. news station that was tuned in.

Practically an hour after I had gone to bed, Jack followed suit ─ I hadn't yet fallen into a deep sleep, and so I peeked at the time once Jack had turned off the light. Perhaps I am partly one of those who is able to be asleep, but still retain some consciousness (see Mercola.com: Many Insomniacs Remain Conscious During Sleep, Which Makes Them Think They’ve Not Slept a Wink).

I never checked the time again until 5:40 a.m. ─ that was when I decided to rise for the morning, although I stalled for about three minutes out of concern of disturbing Jack.

My eldest stepson Tho rose awhile thereafter and readied for work; and I thought his younger brother Poté was doing the same. But then I heard Poté's girlfriend ─ she had spent the night with him.

I heard them go outside, but he was to return alone. Yet a few hours later, she was back ─ for a few hours more.

He never did go to work ─ just as he did not go on Tuesday and Wednesday, either. And I am truly coming to hate this omnipresence of his ─ especially since the girlfriend is here with him so damned often and long.

It's possible that she had to work, though, for she seemed no longer to be present in the early afternoon.

I put in an average morning's worth of time content-building ─ an edit process of an old post that I began rebuilding yesterday at My Retirement Dream, one of my six hosted websites.

I suspended my efforts around mid-morning because I had grown too weary of it ─ I needed a nap, yet there was nowhere for me to get one.

Yet just before Mark emerged from his bedroom, I had taken to lying upon the carpeted floor here in the tiny upstairs bedroom where I keep my computer ─ the room used to be my niece Rene's (that is, Irene), but she has not spent a night here in a few years, and probably never will again.

I only relaxed for a half-hour at very most, and then climbed to my feet and came downstairs to fix myself an instant coffee.

I killed time doing nothing of any merit, mainly awaiting the getting-up of my wife Jack. I knew that she would likely have to work today at her friend Ui's Thai restaurant in Vancouver, but I did not know just when it would be that she was expected to show up.

Finally I decided to just watch some T.V. via our Android TV Box, and so I settled upon the current season's premiere episode of The Voice.

Mark joined me to catch the episode.

It must have been within a half-hour of noon when Jack finally emerged from our bedroom to commence freshening up in the bathroom for the day.

She was soon busy cooking; and at the finish of The Voice, Mark headed on upstairs for a nap.

But not me ─ I was committed to waiting out Jack, for sooner or later she would be leaving us to head on in to Vancouver.

I had been growing hungry as the hours passed. Toward the end of the noon-hour I felt that I should at least get out to the backyard tool shed and see if I had it in me to handle a full exercise session (they presently take about 12 minutes).

To my relief, I was able to put in an average (or median) performance, despite still feeling that shortfall of sleep. And of course, that freed me up to have a small meal.

The morning and early afternoon were lightly overcast ─ a pervasive, all-grey (yet quite bright) sky with no distinguishable individual clouds.

Then before I really knew it, Jack was ready to leave us, and so I saw her off at just about 1:45 p.m. on her drive to Vancouver. She left saying that she would be back on Monday ─ probably late that evening.

Well, at least I'll be able to nap anytime I may feel the need over the weekend, even if Mark's presence is keeping me up at least an hour later than used to be the case when he wasn't retired.

This morning while I was killing time before I finally decided to watch some T.V., I was sitting here at my computer playing a game of FreeCell when a song I usually feel rather stirred by was being played on the stereo downstairs, so I decided to seek a video of it being performed.

I had some idea of who the songstress was, but I couldn't come up with her name ─ nor could I figure out what the title of the song was. The only lyrics I could clearly understand were, "Fire away! Fire away!"

I didn't want to go downstairs to the stereo to hear it more clearly, for I had a little concern that Mark was likely becoming keen on watching something via the Android TV Box, and I wasn't quite into that as yet.

But I was able to Google the song and artist that I was after ─ the song is Titanium. It is sung by Australia's Sia, but there do not seem to be any official video versions of her performing the song ─ just that version that I linked to which portrays some sort of incident involving a 'mutant' schoolboy, and Sia herself never appears.

Sure, there are videos of her singing the song at some live concert, or maybe as a guest on a variety or talk show. But I really wanted to watch her perform the song in top studio quality precisely as the original hit on the radio sounds like.

Her concerts tend to have her doing the song much slower; and the pounding drive that is in the recorded version is diminished.

Live concert recordings also have too much echo and muffling; and I wanted lots of absolutely brilliant close-up quality video ─ not the remote video taping of her in a concert where the colouration, lighting, and video quality are poor.

I found and watched a lovely sequence of her doing the 'carpool karaoke' bit on The Late Late Show With James Cordon:



I find myself absolutely drawn to her mouth ─ it seems so beautiful!

She explains a little of why she covers her face as she does, and of her alcohol and drug struggle.

I have become a fan!

Anyway, around 4:30 p.m., I heard a little rain falling on the carport roof just below my computer room's open window.

It is now almost 5:00 p.m., and my eyes need a break ─ I never did get a nap today, so I believe that I shall 'stretch out' for a bit and then just bring this post to a close with another entry from my old journal.

oooooooooooooo

Lord, I slipped into a nap and dreamed, but at least Mark is not yet home from the bar. It was 6:13 p.m. when I roused from the nap and checked the time.

Here is that old journal entry, back 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 [Google map], and two houses up from Third Avenue.

On tap for the day was the 1½-hour hike out to the home of my mother Irene Dorosh, who was living in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey.

The little house that she and her husband Alex shared no longer exists, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue [Google map] ─ it was my main mailing address.

My younger brother Mark was renting a duplex unit less than three miles from our mother's home, so I was intending to head over to his suite in the afternoon following my visit with our mother.

He was living toward Whalley ─ the duplex was possibly right around where 102nd Avenue terminates on Semiahmoo Road [Google map]. Memory is faulty, but I almost see the duplex as being across from and just to the right of that 102nd Avenue termination.

I had been at his suite so often over the past five or so months that I had my own means of access, and would go there whether or not Mark was home.
WEDNESDAY, April 20, 1977

I got up a bit before 6:25 a.m.; it's a sunny morn.

I leave for mom's at 6:40 a.m.

*****


I found there, at last, the Provincial Lottery ticket I'd ordered from B.C. Wildlife Foundation.

I seem to be hovering at a bodyweight of 186 [pounds], but I may have undone everything, for I sure didn't starve today.

Mom said Nell was to get Jock to bring themselves over, but they didn't come while I was visiting; I napped, too.

[My Aunt Nell Halverson was my mother's youngest sister; and Jock (John) Halverson was one of her adult sons. I had been hoping to get a position working with Jock at Haul-Away or whatever the trash collection company was back then that had the contract for these parts.]

Seems Jock only works at Haul-away 2 or 3 days a week right now. 

Mom returned to me the pants she obviously repaired, my former best jeans.

On my way to Mark's I bought a 15 lb bag of potatoes (88¢) at Safeway.

He came home soon after I got there.

I guess Chris returned to Melody, but he left her a note; so I read it.

[Chris was a co-worker of Mark, and he was then living less than a half-mile away from Mark in an apartment or some such that Chris was sharing with my ex-girlfriend, Melody St. Jean. But she was decidedly wayward; and after the couple had gotten into yet another fight, he had been staying with Mark for several nights.]  

I lost $10 on the Western Express Lottery, and missed out on $25 for having...305 rather than...705.

I watched TV till 10:00 p.m., leaving for home not too much later.

Mark's truck was outside his place, so he must have gotten picked up for work by Chris.

I helped a couple guys push their dead car off Royal just high enough onto 2nd St [Google map] to park it.

Bed 12:00 a.m.
I think I may remember what my mother had done with that pair if jeans that I had given to her to repair the thinning fabric in the crotch area. She may have stitched on one or two patches ─ and that would be why I said the repair job was "obvious."

I also seem to remember that the patchwork would become troublesome to my inner thighs after walking for any length of time in the pants ─ the heavier, coarser material would become abrasive.

Recent journal entries often mention that I shopped at a Safeway outlet on my way over to Mark's duplex unit, yet I now cannot remember where there was one between her home and his suite.

Memory truly is frail.
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