.dropcap {float:left; color:#4791d2; font-size:75px; line-height:60px; padding-top:4px; padding-right:8px; padding-left:3px; font-family:Georgia}

Google+ Followers


Friday, May 11, 2018

A Promising Proposed Series of Articles on the Therapeutic Value of Our Five Senses

Probably thanks to my younger brother Mark turning off the house electrical power early this afternoon, we now have no Internet service.

I am typing these words at 4:35 p.m.

Since I cannot access anything related to the Web, I will be unable to publish today's post, and thus I shall be doing so at some future point when I again have Internet access; and I will date the post to reflect that it is being published on May 11, 2018 ─ even though it is not.

Due to this, I am not going to spend as much time with the post as I might otherwise have done. In fact, I will be spending very little time with it.

[Well, the Internet service did get restored in the late afternoon.]

I retired quite late last night. Mark and I watched T.V. (via our Android TV Box) until after 12:30 a.m. It was not too bothersome for me staying up as late as that because I was expecting my wife Jack home ─ she had worked the day in reasonably nearby Langley at her friend Fanta's Thai restaurant.

The actual time of my bedtime eludes me, but it may have been in the vicinity of 12:45 a.m. And in the anticipation of Jack eventually arriving home, I donned earplugs and blindfold in a bid to minimize her disturbance of me.

Despite being sleepy, I had to exert some effort to quell some unease about her homecoming and that attendant disturbance.

As it was to happen, I very much was aware when she was here and preparing for bed. I even looked at the time, but darned if I now can remember what time it was. Might it have been in the vicinity of 1:15 a.m.? Or 1:45 a.m.? Or even 2:15 a.m.?

I just don't know anymore.

But my sleep thereafter was rather poor. And as I recall, it was 5:08 a.m. this morning when I checked the time and decided that I should get up for an early start on the edit of an old post I have been very involved with these past mornings at Siam-Longings, one of my six hosted websites.

My eldest stepson was the first of the boys to rise, ready, and head away to work. His younger brother Poté was soon up after that, and he also readied himself and headed off for the workday.

Originally, I had hoped to get out for some local grocery shopping, by by about 8:30 a.m. I had grown far too weary from inadequate sleep. I even felt too minimal to even dare my 13 or so minutes of exercising out in the backyard tool-shed.

Mark was getting up at that point, so I logged out of Siam-Longings for today and then betook myself down to Tho's bed to try and obtain a nap ─ I will not disturb my poor wife, for I know that she works hard and needs her sleep.

I had napped rather well the previous two times I employed Tho's bed for this purpose, but it did not seem so this occasion. I did not believe that I even managed a nap, yet about 1½ hours had passed when I checked the time.

My thoughts had been casting about in wildly imaginative fashion, quite independent of any kind of voluntary or conscious employment of mental prowess on my part ─ the scenarios could only have been the stuff of dream. Nevertheless, I am convinced that if I did nap, it was never deeply.

I made myself available to Mark for the operation of the Android TV Box, so when he ventured that I should tune something in, I gave a movie a shot that I had heard about yesterday on an episode of The Graham Norton Show.

Actually, I had heard about a British T.V. series featuring a couple of chaps sampling dining establishments in Spain for a magazine that was sponsoring them.

When I did some research on the series, I learned that it all began with a movie in 2010 titled The Trip. In the movie and a short T.V. series of the same name that the movie heralded, the two characters toured the northern part of England ─ or at least, that was the case with the movie.

And now that I have accessed Wikipedia (around 5:30 p.m. I found the Internet to be back), I have the impression that the T.V. series IS the movie ─ or at least, the movie itself is a shortened amalgamation of the T.V. episodes.

I wish I had know that! I wouldn't have watched it ─ I would have instead gone through the series' episodes.

Anyway, after the series had its 2010 run, another movie and series kicked off four years later titled The Trip to Italy.

But the movie and series being promoted by the guest I watched yesterday on the early 2017 episode of The Graham Norton Show was The Trip to Spain.

Consequently, I figured that Mark and I might as well get started at the very beginning back in 2010. The movie wasn't riveting, but I found it interesting and amusing enough. It was almost like a travelogue.

Once the movie we watched was over with, it was around 12:30 p.m., and Mark announced that he was heading on upstairs to his bedroom “to stretch out.”

I wanted to try and tackle that 13-minute exercise session before Jack was up, so I went out into the backyard to try and experience some invigoration.

That never seemed to be happening, however ─ I was not feeling any gusto at all.

Doubtful of myself, I felt no recourse was left me but to essay the exercising regardless. 

To my considerable surprise, the first of the four sets of pull-ups that lead off the exercise session was performed with unexpected strength.

Alas, this sense of strength did not translate to the next three sets ─ each was a distinct struggle to achieve all of the expected pull-ups, but I did get through them successfully.

Jack was up by this time, and was shut up in the bathroom. So since the day had become markedly sunny, I sat out in the backyard on a deck- or lawn-chair while facing into the Sun. I was shoeless and shirtless, but I did have on my pants.

I spent just over 40 minutes so engaged, beginning at 1:06 p.m.

I was to hear Mark and Jack talking at one point, and I was sure that the topic was household electrical power. I now realize that he was to have shut the electrical current off while he performed some work with no apparent success.

All he succeeded at was shocking our Internet connection into disabling itself.

Thankfully, it was just a temporary loss.

After my time in the Sun, I came into the house to find that Mark had gone for the afternoon.

Jack would be leaving around mid-afternoon to drive to Vancouver to work at her friend Ui's Thai restaurant, and she will probably remain in Vancouver until we see her again late Monday evening.

Unfortunately, before she readied to leave, she answered a doorbell ring ─ I was upstairs here at my computer. Had I been home alone, I would not have answered the door.

Well, I got called downstairs by her to handle the two young ladies ─ they were from BC Environmental Home Services, and wanted to do a quick check of our furnace and water heater.

I have since researched and found that the company is affiliated with Simply Green Home Services.

The lassies were extremely engaging and quite charming ─ in fact, I was "charmed" into signing an agreement for a new gas furnace that was being claimed to cost us nothing. The monthly fee of something like $100 would be covered by the fuel savings we would see over what our current furnace is costing.

I think an installation fee was to be waived if enough homes hereabouts signed up for the offer.

Of course, it involved being accepted for the arrangement first, and this determination would be made by their home base or headquarters.

The next thing I knew, they had contacted their corporate people and ─ in no time at all ─ we were accepted for this furnace offer.

It would be installed tomorrow!


I stressed that my brother Mark is the majority owner of the house, since he paid the original down-payment of something like $40,000 when he and I entered into the purchase nearly 16 years ago.

I couldn't possibly get this happening without his okay, and it was my opinion that in such short consultation, he would nix the project.

He'll be drunk this evening after he gets home, so I know that's what will happen ─ and he would be aggressive and even belligerent about the whole affair. I would not dare mention it to him until tomorrow morning when he's sober.  

With the Internet back, I have now read that this furnace arrangement ─ even if it is as reasonable as it sounds ─ is a contract. If we were to move before the life of the contract was finished ─ and the contract is a decade or more ─ we would be liable for the full remaining amount that is projected to be owed.

Or we could persuade the new home-buyers to take over the furnace contract.

Well, this is just far too much!

And it's why I hate answering the bloody door when strangers are out there!

I don't think I will even mention the transaction to Mark ─ I will just do what I can to extricate us from this fiasco I almost set into motion.  

And I am out of time, thanks to that Internet unavailability this afternoon.

I want to at least direct you to an interesting article about our senses ─ as I mentioned yesterday, studies are finding that people who lose their hearing later in life become extremely vulnerable to cognitive decline and even dementia.

But this article reaches so much farther ─ and is just the first in what promises to be a series:


I am going to close this post now 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 [Google map], and two houses up from Third Avenue.
WEDNESDAY, May 11, 1977

I arose about 7:45 a.m.

The day is fairly wet.

I got my laundry washed for nothing ─ the attendant called me over to a machine someone had paid to operate, but didn't use.

I have an entry to the Weetabix "Visit Britain" Contest I shall mail today. 

Doing this, I visited Metropolitan and bought a pair of wide leg Chinese jeans (total $6.81), and at the Times Square shop I bought Starlog #6.

I discovered the pants to be identical to 2 pairs I already have and do not care for; though 32s, they stretched enormously. Friday I'll exchange the new pair for a size 30.

I committed atrocious evil c. 2:55 p.m.

Bed at 11:00 p.m.
You sure cannot beat getting your clothes washed for free at a laundromat!
Post a Comment