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Sunday, January 22, 2017

Opioid Pain Medications Are for Short-Term Use at Most │ The Brain-Restoring Power of Hour-Long Naps │ Superbugs: We Are Already Falling Over the Cliff

Although I seemed to be the last person up last night when I retired at 10:58 p.m., there was to be considerable activity where my two step-sons and youngest step-son Poté's girlfriend Priyanka were concerned. I was to learn of it this morning from Poté.

I rose this morning at 7:18 a.m., quite fresh from a dream whose details were lost, but it involved my old friend Norman Dearing. I think we both were of an age approximating our heyday back in the 1970s, oddly enough.

When I came downstairs to make my morning's hot beverage, Poté was up ─ his girlfriend must have had to go to work earlier. He greeted me with a "Good morning," and then commenced his account of last night.

I am unclear on just who it was that became aware of noises in the den area where Poté's bed is, but it might even have been his older brother Tho.

I have a dresser down there comprising five drawers in which are my various tee shirts amassed over my working life. However it was discerned, the three young people zeroed in that the scratching and rustling seemed to be coming from the bottom of that furnishing ─ which is against the same wall separating it from Tho's bed..

We have known of a rodent that has been resident here since at least as far back as Boxing Day ─ that was when my wife Jack first brought its damaging evidence to my attention.

Four mousetraps and a pair of mouse glue traps have yielded nothing, even though one of the traps was apparently sprung.

Well, the boys pulled out the bottom drawer of my dresser, and came face-to-face with the culprit ─ apparently a rat. It was transfixed, staring at the three humans who were equally immobilized. This face-off endured some while until Tho moved to see about getting something with which to contain the vermin.

At his movement, the rat made a bid for escape and reportedly fled up the four or so carpeted steps that lead to the kitchen, but made a sharp left towards the living room ─ another set of carpeted steps right there leads to the upstairs.

But kitchen, living room, and the upstairs were all in darkness, so the boys could not tell just where the varmint fled to.

I guess Poté had been doing some research this morning and has determined that maybe investing in some ammonia will be the best method for repelling the animal. Soaking some rags or cotton housed in a can or jar, which is then placed in areas the rat frequents, is supposed to be overpowering to its sense of smell, and will thus keep it from returning to that area.  

Unfortunately, we would need quite a few such deterrents spread about throughout the house, for it has definitely also been upstairs ─ I know of it being here in the room where I use my computer, and my younger brother Mark has discovered it to have been in at least one of his dresser drawers.

There is no sense poisoning the damned thing if it's just going to retreat into a wall or some such place to die, treating us to the stench of its decaying corpse for an indeterminate period of time.

Poté never had to work yesterday, and also has today off ─ most odd for someone working in the retail field. He has two part-time jobs over in Guildford.

My brother Mark had spent the night at his girlfriend Bev's home. When he came here this morning to shower and so forth, I do not believe that anyone communicated with him about the events of last night.

Just ahead of noon, he headed away for the afternoon. His girlfriend Bev works in a bar and is quite involved in the NFL playoffs ─ there is a key game on today at noon.

What manner of company will he be for me this evening, I wonder?

Our mild weather continues, and it has been very lightly raining much of today.

Before I forsake this account of my day thus far, here are a few photos taken (I think) on November 1, 2016, when Jack was back in Thailand last Fall to see her mother after more than 3½ years.

Jack's sister Penn is in the first two photos with her own son Daniel; Jack will be wearing the white tee shirt in the other photos. My guess is that the setting is likely the Nong Soong area, very near to Udon Thani.

This last photo just below seems to have been an attempt to photograph a collage of other photographs that might have been taken on October 29, 2016, in Bangkok when the Grand Palace was first opened up for the people to file through and view the funeral urn of their late King Bhumibol Adulyadej:


It was just yesterday in this blog that I included information on opioid pain medication, and how some researchers have concluded that quite apart from addiction and a host of other harms, the medications actually start to cause the pain to aggravate in the long term.

These drugs were never intended for use longer than three months at most.

I do not wish to link to the same material all over again ─ as I said, it is all in yesterday's post. But I do want to point you to this excellent diatribe lambasting these drugs and the physicians who continually prescribe them:


It truly was unfortunate that the late musician Prince had to die from opioids as he did, but I still do not fathom how he still gets commended for following his religious beliefs and shunning alcohol.

He shunned alcohol, yes; but instead, he became a drug addict. Better, I think, that he should have relied on some alcohol to ease his pain, and stayed entirely away from the opioids.


Also in the past day or two, I posted of another study wherein researchers concluded that older folks who managed a daily nap of about an hour's duration actually improved in brain function.

Who's to say that the same benefit would not accrue for anyone younger? After all, the study just happened to comprise seniors ─ not a broad swath of the population.

Anyway, since I have come across a few more reports on the study, I am going to present them now:




Alas, I never had my nap today ─ nor yesterday. Blogging usurps too much of my time.


I had not heard about this incident until today ─ the headlines make clear what the incident involves:





Nothing is going to change.

We have far, far too many lazy physicians who can't be bothered to deal with their bounteous annoying patients seeking help for every sniffle and sore throat.

Nor do mega farms and concentrated animal feeding operations have any intention of changing their ways. Government recommendations just will not do ─ they need to be made rigorously enforced law.

We are indeed already falling over the cliff.


I see that my younger brother Mark must have brought home this morning a couple of mousetraps, and maybe even at least one of those mouse glue pads.

I must close now, and will do so with this journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster

I was renting my small space in a house located on Ninth Street, and likely one or two houses up from Third Avenue.

Apparently I went to bed at 6:45 p.m. the evening prior.
THURSDAY, January 22, 1976

Well, I managed to get to sleep last night, though it wasn't steady; I came around for good shortly after 3:30 a.m., I guess. 

I managed a WD. I was attending a school, and a class I was in went outside for a lesson, all of us sitting about on a pile of rocks. The teacher was a woman, and quite attractive in her pants suit or whatever. I sat next to her. She was asking us to link sentences by completing a word or phrase to that offered by the person called ahead of us. Anyway, while we were absorbed in study, this seemingly officious woman (I believe we were proximal due to the difficulty of finding seating on the rocks) began to unobtrusively and casually caress me and, belike, rub closely against me with her body with obvious intent. I came. Thence, I lived in fear of my actual life at the school, trying mightily to avoid this teacher, and a male one as well, a tall, middle-aged, all-business sort with an interest in her.

It was quite ridiculous though at the time rather scary.

My suite was really cold this morning; I was most reluctant to get up.

I delivered my declaration for assistance to the welfare office, then went to the health food store and spent $2.05 on a pound of almonds, a price cheaper than Safeway where I bought powdered skim milk ($2.79) and a toothbrush for a total there of $3.68.

I came home in a thick spray of rain.

I typed up a letter to Ron.

I retired for a nap about noon, and was aroused near 1:15 p.m. by Mark & Cathy who brought me 2 information books on BCIT education; Mark left with Almuric and Dennis Dorgan.   

Around 8:20 p.m. or so Bill dropped by for about 5 minutes; he left when he saw that I was pretty deep into The Waltons and didn't care to miss any going to his place to watch them.

I'll bed at 10:00 p.m.

Going to the toilet for the final time tonight, I found 2 letters in my box: one from Jeffs requesting I come for an appointment the 29th; and one from dad requesting I visit, else he will on the last Saturday of the month. He was looking for me to show last Sunday.
I sure do miss having erotic dreams!

I worked one day a week through an employment initiatives or incentives progarmme in place between my employer and New Westminster social services. The former would pay me a monthly pittance of something like $50 through a grant that they had received, while the latter would pay me the going social assistance rate for a Single person.

But each month, I had to submit a declaration indicating that I still wanted and needed to be involved. 

Mr. Russ Jeffs was my social worker.

The letter I typed was to an American pen-pal I had, Ron Bain.

My first visitors were my younger brother Mark and his beautiful girlfriend, Catherine Jeanette Gunther. I may still have those two Robert E. Howard books that Mark borrowed that day.

My next visitor was my old friend William Alan Gill, who only lived about four or so blocks from me in a bachelor suite that he was renting. He had a fairly large colour T.V., while I only had a smaller black & white model.

The mailbox I referred to was not located outside of the door I used to exit from my room into the outside world. Rather, the mail receptacle was just outside another door that led into the basement proper ─ I had a cubicle just outside that door containing a toilet and a shower unit. Thus, if I was not to use the toilet, I might not notice any mail left in that mailbox for me.

My poor father Hector had evidently sat in the lobby of his apartment building watching for me on Sunday to come and visit. He shared his apartment with his girlfriend Maria Fadden, but she and I had undergone a terrible row the week or so before Christmas, and I declared that I would not return.

He had written to me quite recently and asked me to come and visit him again, and said that if I did not come during the week, he would watch for me on the Sunday.

I had in turn replied back that I would not be coming...but my letter was returned. Like some fool, I had used his former address, and so he never knew that I was not coming to see him.

I feel bad reading about that.

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Good Sleep Pointers │ Opioid Medications Are NOT for Long-Term Pain Management │ Dietary Zinc Research

For some reason overnight, a few times when I was awake I felt almost like I was suffering a bit of a hangover. I had consumed no more alcohol than usual, so that was not the issue. Neither was I up particularly late ─ I was probably abed by 11:45 p.m.

Perhaps my supper was weighing somewhat heavily. I did drink water perhaps three times overnight.

I expect that it was after 8:00 a.m. that I rose for the day and was soon at work finally finishing and publishing a post at my Siam-Longings website ─ a post that I began back on the 11th: Thailand Adapter.

And that essentially took me to the noon-hour.

My younger brother Mark and my youngest step-son Poté somehow got into a discussion concerning the mouse or mice whose presence my wife Jack alerted me to on Boxing Day ─ Poté must have let Mark know about the traps that Poté bought a few evenings ago, but which have yet to catch anything.

Poté escorted Mark here to my computer room ─ formerly, my niece Rene's bedroom ─ to show him the trap that is in here.

It was not long after that Mark called to me as he was putting away some laundry ─ one of his dresser drawers contained several objects that had been gnawed. Specifically, a couple of ring cases. Mark surmised that the intent had been to chew off the fuzzy surface to the cases.

The culprit had actually made a fair mess with debris it had left strewn about.

So I suspect that Mark is going to start becoming proactive about the intruder(s). I never mentioned it to him, but yesterday afternoon I think I found a mouse turd on his bedroom carpet.

All of the foregoing interaction was after I had published the post I had finally completed.

I fixed myself up a nice meal of my wife Jack's cooking; and then after finishing it, I sought some further bedtime. Mark apparently sought his own nap during my downtime, for when I rose, his bedroom door was closed.

However, he was soon enough up; and not too much thereafter, he left ─ perhaps not to return until tomorrow morning, if he spends Saturday night at the home of his girlfriend Bev as he generally does.

I felt some pangs of regret at not being able to be outside during the morning, for it was brightly sunny and mild. Yet following my nap, I found that the day had become overcast, and there seems even to have been a rain shower.

Poté seems not to have to work today. His girlfriend had spent the night, but she was gone when I got up this morning. She, at least, must have had to work.

Before I leave this section on my day, I want to post two Google-created 19-second slideshows of photos that were taken when my wife Jack and some of her family were able to visit Ayutthaya last October 30.

I might have posted one of these mini-movies already in a previous post, but I want to place these two in juxtaposition to one another because of how similar they are ─ not only did Google select much the same photographs, but it even used the same melody.

Why would Google nearly duplicate something like this, I wonder?




How well do you sleep?

I get to sleep fairly easily. My problem is remaining asleep. The latter half or so of my night is comprised of fractured sleep.

I do not see how these tips of Dr. Marc S. Micozzi can help me, but possibly you can apply them?


The first tip is impractical for me ─ I would need to live alone. And I am not guilty of the sin enumerated in the second tip.

The third tip is something that I could try, but I hate the idea of losing the first 15 minutes of my day doing nothing when I could be starting post work on one of my hosted websites. And what about these Winter months when a person often rises while it is still dark outside?

I already do practice tip number four; although if I did not feel committed to blogging for the hours a day that I do, I would probably be far, far more active than I am. Actually, I am considering forsaking blogging any longer later this year ─ it is not rewarding. In the previous 10 days, I have earned but 4¢ in my AdSense account, and there was nothing there yet for today when I checked just prior to this post.

As for tip number five, I take melatonin, so I may suspend doing that. But I cannot afford to be adding herbal remedies to the regimen of supplements I already keep myself supplied with ─ my pension is too sparse. I already get the B vitamins and magnesium within that supplemental regimen. As for the alcohol, I am not about to reduce my evening allotment. Again, I would need to live alone to care to make any such reduction ─ other family members are just too damned stressful for me. Nor am I about to start taking a warm cup of milk or some other caffeine-free beverage prior to bed.


Research reveals that opioid pain medication is not designed for long-term pain. Believe it or not, apart from the addiction factor, the opioids can actually begin causing the pain to aggravate.

And among the other major issues with long-term opioid medication are depression, impaired sex hormone production, sleep breathing disorders, reduction in wound healing, infections, cognitive impairment ─ the list is long.

Here are a couple of reports on a recently published study decrying the use of such medication:



I did not see the actual study identified, but it is titled Opioids and Chronic Pain: Where Is the Balance? (doi: 10.1007/s11912-016-0558-1). Only the abstract is available for free, but I did locate the full study elsewhere ─ it ended thus:
The management of chronic pain should be clearly separated from acute pain. Opioid utility in the management of pain diminishes with duration and dose. There are significant delayed side effects and adverse events clinicians need to take into consideration when treating patients with pain.

I believe that it was just yesterday that I posted about the latest impressive dietary zinc research, but I will do so again and explain why ─ first, here are a couple of reports on a recent study:



I reported yesterday that even though the zinc supplement I take has a potency of 50 milligrams per tablet, I felt okay about it. But after seeing the recommendation in that latter reference, I am going to begin trying to cut those tablets into halves, and look for a weaker potency the next time I resupply.


'Tis time now for me to close with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting the cramped space in a house located on Ninth Street, and one or two houses up from Third Avenue.

My big plan for the day was a hike out to my mother Irene Dorsh's home in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey. The house she and her husband Alex shared there no longer exists, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue. It was my main mailing address.

To hike there from my room would take about 1½ hours at a goodly pace.

I had actually gone to bed at 7:00 p.m. the previous evening.
WEDNESDAY, January 21, 1976

Sleep did not come to me quickly nor steadily last night; I got myself up before 3:30 a.m. By 6:40 a.m. I was in the dark and on my way to mom's.

The only mail was yesterday's; my 4th Olympic Lottery ticket, and MuscleMag International #4. 

I ate a lot today, but spread out so that I never approached too closely that incapacitated feeling.

I felt guilty over a rising temper for mom who continued on during the morning with trivia while I wanted to direct my full attention elsewhere.

Phyllis (who came Monday as I was leaving with Bill & mother) visited about 12:45 p.m. for at least an hour, I guess. And about 2:15 p.m. an Avon lady came.

I put aside some fresh-baked cookies mom wanted me to take, telling her I really don't care for cookies unless I can soak them in whole milk, something I lack; I said I'd eat them when next I came. But she did give me most of a package of Rye-King crackers.

I left shortly after 4:30 p.m.

A light rain began just as I completed the bridge.

The whole trip back I felt carnal and sort of isolated from God; I've tried extremely hard this month to convince Him to allow me Sunday's Olympic Lottery win as a loan, and have made far-reaching promises does He so do. 

I haven't had manual release since November 27!

I've got one lottery ticket coming for the draw Sunday; I feel strongly that on the outcome depends my future more so than at any prior draw.

I suppose I should mention that Sherry had come home from school before I left mom's, but she soon went to play with Lisa; Phyllis is checking out a possible apartment availability.

I'm randy.

My right lower eyelid has been twitching quite steadily since the afternoon.

Bed by 6:45 p.m.

The letter I sent dad came back; like an idiot I sent it to his address just off Canada Way.

Mom also gave me a medium small onion.
My dear mother had a knack for droning on and on about people I did not know, and referring to them by their first names as if I was intimately familiar with them. She was incorrigible for that.

Phyllis is my older maternal half-sister, and Sherry her daughter. Back then, Sherry was practically living with my mother and Alex. I am unsure what Phyllis was up to ─ perhaps she was living with a boyfriend at his place and thus did not care to have Sherry moved in, too.  

Lisa was a young girl living right next door to my mother ─ she and Sherry had become friends despite going to different schools.

I had been visiting my mother two days earlier when my old friend William Alan Gill and his mother Anne Gregory showed up just to take me back to my room. I hadn't realized that this was all that they intended ─ I would have preferred to have remained at my mother's home so that I could walk back to my room, arriving there considerably later than was to be the case that day.

I was never to win a huge lottery prize, despite trying for decades thereafter.

My poor father Hector. I had a falling out with his live-in girlfriend Maria Fadden, and declared that I was never going to return. He had sent me a letter saying that he would watch for me, and even sit down in the lobby on the next Sunday. But I had replied back to say that I would not be coming.

And so he never did get the letter because I addressed it to his previous residence, and he likely awaited for me all in vain.   

I miss my father...and my mother. 

I miss having friends.

It sucks hard being too poor to get out and socialize like my younger brother Mark is able to afford to do. I just sit here shut up in this house just about every useless day of my dwindling life.

Friday, January 20, 2017

Fish Oil Proven to Reduce Heart Disease Risk │ The Cruciality of Naps │ High Blood Pressure Hysteria

When my wife Jack was not yet home from Vancouver after 11:00 p.m. last night, I decided to get myself ready for bed rather than keep sitting up. I had just reduced myself to my undershorts when I noticed through the bedroom window blinds that a car was turning into the driveway ─ she was here at 11:10 p.m.

I dressed again, and came back downstairs and turned on the T.V. to help bide time until Jack was ready to go to bed.  That was not to happen until after 12:30 a.m.

I suppose that I had a fairly decent night's sleep ─ I never bothered to get up to use the bathroom and drink any water. It was only when I realized that Jack was getting up and had then exited the bedroom, closing the door, that I checked the time.  It was well past 8:00 a.m. ─ maybe even after 8:30 a.m.

It surprised me. I wore earplugs and a blindfold, so I had been unaware that it was 'broad daylight' already.

I rose and dressed, despite still feeling inadequately slept.

I was to learn that Jack had her typical bad night's sleep, and I think that she may even have used my computer at some point.

She was in the bathroom when I exited the bedroom, and soon she was showering. And when she was done, it was clear that she was dressing to go out somewhere.

I am unclear on the details, but she said that she was going to her friend Fanta's home out in Langley ─ something to do with Fanta's mother. Perhaps the mother was visiting from Thailand or something?

I confirmed that Jack intended to return here later on ─ she averred that she would. At that, I then said that we could later talk about the mortgage ─ we are about $277 short, and it may be applied against our chequing account as early as tomorrow, although I suspect that it might not happen until after the weekend.

I suggested that we might have no recourse but to borrow from one or both of her sons.

She agreed, and was then away. I was free to put some further content into the new post I have been working on at my Siam-Longings website since the 11th.

Her youngest son Poté had gone to work before we got up, but her oldest son Tho was taking a third consecutive sick day off work. He definitely has a bad cold, but it sure didn't prevent him from hooking up with his girlfriend and/or friends for a few hours last evening. He was not to rise for the day today until after 1:00 p.m.

Once I had done the minimum targeted work that I wanted done on that Siam-Longings's post, it was into the noon-hour. I was hungry, but I went out to the backyard shed for some exercise before eating.

The day has had some sunny breaks, and it is quite mild. I noticed that the small strip of garden at the back of the house by our sundeck actually has lots of shoots of tulip plants already poking above the surface of the ground.

If I knew for certain just where any of the three or four daffodil bulbs in that strip of garden are, I would see about transplanting what I could find ─ last year, none of them produced a flower, and only one did the year before. Clearly, they are not faring ideally there.

But I have concerns of adversely affecting the tulips by digging around speculatively.

I noticed earlier that Google created a commemorative collage from our photos celebrating exactly five years ago:

I was able to locate the two original photos from January 20, 2012:

The second photo is one of a sequence in which I was photographing Jack probably driving off to work. I think she still owned Pattaya Thai Restaurant in New Westminster (406 - Sixth Street) at the time.

She tried and tried to keep the restaurant afloat, but she just did not have the customer base. And the poor girl had to deal with so much as the sole proprietor.

So she finally had to sell. Some Koreans took over and opened up a restaurant that was also to fail. There is an Ethiopian restaurant operating in that space now, I think.

Anyway, losing Pattaya Thai Restaurant hurt us both.


A study published in the January 2017 edition of the Mayo Clinic Proceedings journal has revealed excellent news concerning fish oil ─ here are a couple of reports about it:



The Time author certainly lacked the enthusiasm that was displayed in the first report.


Do you take advantage of naps?  I know it's impractical if you have to work away from home for a living.

But more and more is being learned of both the importance of sleep, and also of naps to perhaps tender some added mental and physical rejuvenation in the day.

Here are some reports on a latest study:




I never sought a lie-down today, but I know that I could have used one. When Jack is a part of my day, there just is not the available time for a nap. For even when she goes out, I never know when she will return.

Also, on those days that she is around here, her temporary absences are my opportunity to perhaps blog and/or get in some exercise.


If we are to believe the headlines concerning a couple of the latest studies, high blood pressure is rampant worldwide:




I much prefer this take on the whole contrived hysteria:


I haven't a clue what my blood pressure is, and I am not even curious. I haven't had it checked in many years. In fact, I cannot even recall with any certainty just how many years ago it was checked.


My wife Jack was back home around 2:00 p.m., and she quickly got busy cooking. But first she had an exchange with her eldest son Tho, and I was then directed to transfer $300 from his account to our chequing account.

That ought to be sufficient to cover the mortgage payment that is imminent. However, I can do absolutely no shopping; and my monthly pension likely will not show up until late next week ─ if I am lucky. There is the possibility that it mightn't arrive until the final day of the month.

Around 3:00 p.m., Jack began readying herself to leave and return to Vancouver. Poté and his girlfriend arrived before she had left, however.

He got a hug from his mother, but I was not offered a token good-bye kiss when I saw her off. She never indicated when next she would likely be back, either. She was gone by around 3:15 p.m.

Just ahead of 4:00 p.m., Tho headed out the front door ─ I think someone's car was out there to pick him up. He was too sick to work these past three days, but he's perfectly fine for running around with friends.

Well, I am going to close off now with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting the small space in a house located on Ninth Street, and perhaps a house or two up from Third Avenue.
TUESDAY, January 20, 1976

I got up at 6:00 a.m., but doubt I'd have had much trouble trying to sleep longer.

The fog this morning is thick; I had the laundromat to myself.

At the Bluebird I bought the March Champions and Fantastic Four, April's Marvel Premiere, a "M*A*S*H" TV Guide, and Adrian Cole's Dream Lords: Lord of Nightmares.

Bored and chilled in the afternoon I tried for a good, deep nap; but it was a surface affair.

I rested again at 3:00 p.m., failing by near 15 minutes to arise by 4:00 p.m. for exercise. The place was pretty cold around then.

My day was definitely dull. Guess I'll retire at 7:00 p.m.
I believe that the laundromat was up on Sixth Avenue, near to the public library. However, I can no longer place the location of the Bluebird store ─ I cannot even remember such a store. Yet according to here, it was located at Eighth Street & Fourth Avenue.

This is apparently the cover of the TV Guide I bought:

Is my life never to improve?

Thursday, January 19, 2017

☠ 💀 Why Dogs Eat Poop │ Study Finds Vitamins C Plus E Reduce Risk of Brain Decline │ Zinc: Reduces Oxidative Stress and Repairs DNA

Instead of getting to bed around 11:47 p.m. last evening, I was up in utter dissolution until 1:47 a.m. I am in desperate need of inspiration and motivation ─ of purpose.

I have such a void in me for human contact and love, it becomes impossible to value myself.

And it is no help whatsoever that when I checked my AdSense account, I saw that over the previous six days, I only earned 1¢.

Why am I here online?

On a related note, I see that Chitika ─ which has always touted itself as the alternative to Google's AdSense ─ has been steadily removing any of my websites from my account that it does not like. So from seven, I am down to just three.

The irony here is that the websites it removed were websites that Google had banned from having AdSense advertisements. In other words, Chitika only wants Google-approved websites.

So how in Hell is Chitika able to call itself the alternative to Google AdSense? It is false.

I am inexpressibly unhappy.

My first break in sleep last night was around 5:30 a.m. ─ at least, that is when I checked the time and rose to use the bathroom and drink some water. But upon returning to bed, I could not relax my mind and return to sleep.

Yes, a guilty conscience was at work; but I was also deep into worry about the upcoming $1,600 monthly mortgage. It tends to get debited around the 21st of the month, although it seems to occur on the 22nd (or later, depending on weekends and holidays).

My account is over $275 short on the required amount.

I know that my wife Jack will somehow be able to make up the shortfall once she learns of it ─ even if it is just to borrow what we need from one or both of her sons.

Nevertheless, the worry and concern were there, as well as the self-derision of being such an inadequate man and provider for my family.

It is no wonder my marriage is a flop ─ how can I possibly have a wife's respect?

I tried to sleep for well over a half-hour, but saw the futility of it. And so I rose well after 6:00 a.m. to spend time here at my computer.

Not long after, my youngest step-son Poté got up from his bed downstairs, apparently to hurriedly ready for work. He clearly realized that I was here upstairs at my computer, for as he headed for the front door, he by name bade me a projected good-bye.

I half-laughed my acknowledgment, for he seldom says anything as he leaves.

As I wrote yesterday, he now seems to have a car of his own. His older brother Tho's car is apparently in possession of Tho's girlfriend ─ Tho is serving a year-long driving suspension.

Tho did not get up for work ─ this is his second day off sick. I could hear him coughing occasionally from his bed, which is directly below my computer room.

I did not sit up too long ─ possibly not even 90 minutes. I had enjoyed sufficient diversion here that I felt myself feeling weary again, and my mind had been eased of its fretful focus on finances.  

Hope ─ or some vestige or similitude of hope ─ supposedly springs eternal.

Or at least, until it does not, and a person takes him- or herself out.

Sleep did resist its return, but I was comfortable in bed. And anon, I did get to sleep and dreamland. Thus, when next I checked the time, it was well after 10:00 a.m., and so I rose for the day.

I am still working on the new post I began on the 11th at my Siam-Longings website; because of my late start today, the work took me into the noon-hour. Tho had risen late in the morning, and his brother Poté was soon thereafter home from work.

During the noon-hour, I heard Tho leave the house and possibly get into someone's car ─ I never looked, but my computer-room window is partially ajar, and it overlooks the front yard.

Late in the noon-hour or early in the afternoon, Poté called up to me to ask if I wanted him to get me something to eat. Wondering what was afoot, I asked if he meant that he was going shopping, or if he intended to seek some fast food.

It was the latter, so I asked what he had in mind. He suggested something from Subway. I was indeed hungry, so I acquiesced to the suggestion; and in response to his enquiry, I preferenced beef and said to include all the vegetable fixings that were available.

When he returned, it was with what must have been one of those foot-long submarine sandwiches. He turned it over to me, and then announced that he would be back later, and he took off again.

So did he make the trip to Subway exclusively for me, I wonder? Was that his intention all along?

Or did his girlfriend or someone call him while he was on that errand and thus he was no longer going to be getting anything for himself?

I don't know.

And it was his treat ─ he sought no recompense.

Gestures like this make me feel bad about how easily I feel such great anger towards him and his brother. But I realize that my anger is born of my unnatural lifestyle, practically housebound and so very socially-isolated.

If conditions were other, forbearance would be easier to practice.

After I finished that delicious feast, I returned to bed to allow the meal to settle, and to rest my eyes and generate some vitality.

I may have only rested for a half-hour.  Then I went out to the backyard shed and engaged in some exercising.

There was some very light rain, and it is definitely mild out. Hardly any snow remains on the ground now. By tomorrow, there will likely be none. The blanketing that we first received the early part of December 5 will be naught but a memory.  

I don't know if this snow-cover set a duration record, but it was the longest stretch that I can recollect.

My wife Jack is due to show up from Vancouver at some point today. I will work mention of our mortgage predicament into her ken at some point.

I have been posting photos that were taken on (I think) last October 30 when Jack and some of her family were able to visit the Ayutthaya area. We certainly were in no position for her to be making that trip to Thailand, but it had been over 3½ years since Jack had last seen her mother.

The flight was charged to credit.

Anyway, here are some further photos from that particular day:

In the next six photos, Jack is at the left and wearing the white hat on the elephant at the right; her sister Penn and Penn's son Daniel are with her. The taller woman on the elephant at the left is Jack's other sister Lumpoon:

And in the next two shots, Jack's elephant is taking the lead for a small tour, I expect:

No doubt those three photos just above were taken from the back of this elephant:

And the final Ayutthaya photo is of food ─ a last meal, perhaps:

I think the next batch of photos relate to a return to the Udon Thani area, so I will stop here.

But before I move on, I wanted to link to what is perhaps the best explanation that I have seen on this oddball pet-related topic: The Real Reason Dogs Eat Poop — and How to Make Them Stop.

I still don't exactly understand how they can bear the smell that would accompany such an act.


There is a recently-published study that has concluded that supplemental intake of two vitamins in tandem seems to greatly reduce the risk of Alzheimer's disease, all-cause dementia, and cognitive impairment in general.

Here are a couple of reports about the study:



I couldn't notice any mention at all of recommended potencies of the two vitamins. At any rate, I take a 1,000-milligram vitamin C tablet daily, plus a 400-I.U. capsule of mixed-tocoppherols vitamin E.


There are also some remarkable results from research on dietary zinc:



Concerning zinc supplements, Jack Harrison says this:
If you have a hard time getting zinc from diet alone, you might want to take a supplement. Just don't take matters into your hands on this one, as this is a case where you could get too much of a good thing. 
Speak to a doc who can check your zinc levels, find out where you stand and help figure out how much you need and the best way to get it.
Yet Dr. Marc S. Micozzi does not infer that supplements need to be avoided ─ one just must ensure not to overdo it: The simple way to stop your sneezing, coughing, and sniffling.

I suspect that the 50-milligram tablet I take daily ought to be phased down. After all, I am not a vegetarian, so I do have various types of animal protein in my diet. Still...maybe I am okay.

I mentioned Dr. Marc. S. Micozzi just above.

I located this bit of information at his website on the topic of improving sleep:
Natural sleep aids don’t receive attention 
I often report on Chinese acupuncture for its use in pain, stroke and asthma. And now, research shows it also naturally reduces insomnia and anxiety and induces sleep. 
In this five-week clinical trial, 18 adults with insomnia and anxiety received acupuncture treatment. Acupuncture increased nocturnal melatonin (the sleep hormone) secretion, improved measures of sleep onset, increased total sleep time, and improved sleep efficiency. Significant reductions in anxiety scores were also found. 
Many people also report that sleeping on animal fur helps with insomnia and anxiety. (I make no excuses for the anxiety of the poor animals who provided these furs). Perhaps a better solution for all involved is to sleep with a beloved dog, cat or other furry animal. (When I was younger, I remember going to sleep sometimes by the strains of Beethoven’s Für Elise. Little did I know.)

Poté returned home alone around 4:00 p.m. But I think that the car I thought was his just dropped him off ─ might the car belong to his girlfriend's parents? She had said that her father was away to Germany or somewhere else in Europe, so maybe Poté was allowed use of the vehicle.

It is almost 5:30 p.m. as  type this. Not long ago at all, I thought I heard Tho's car in the driveway, and he did briefly come into the house. However, he seemed to leave again ─ but the car is still in the carport.

What's going on?

I am going to close now with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting my small accommodation in a house located on Ninth Street, perhaps one or two houses up from Third Avenue.

My major plan this day was a hike out to my mother's home in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey. Although that little house that she shared with her husband Alex is now gone, its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue. It was my main mailing address.

To hike there from my room would take about 1½ hours of fast-paced trekking. 
MONDAY, January 19, 1976

I got up about 7:10 a.m., but my sleep wasn't all that good; I'm still thick with yesterday's meal.

The landlady has company, for at least one baby is creating an awful noise, squawking and thumping.

I've decided to wait around till 9:45 a.m. to be able to cash my cheque; as that time approaches, I find my stomach now quite empty and hungry, it being my intestines which are packed.

Bill last night said he might come over to mom's for me in the afternoon.

The whole extent of my walk was in fog; my girl handled the okay of my cheque.

At Scott-Town I bought 2 money orders ($5 & $10), and in O'Farrell's got a $2.23 can of McColl's crunchy for $2 because it was dented. When I began the last part of the haul after that, it was to discover the fog near cleared, and soon I was 'neath a blue sky.

My mail awaiting was February's Plain Truth, some post office notices, a letter from Donald M. Grant confirming my last order, H. Warner Munn's The Banner of Joan from Donald Grant, and an offer to be used as an experiment for Tensile Contraction (a bodybuilding course) providing I send in $5 for the $20 course from Mississauga in Ontario.    

I ate heartily enough.

By the time Bill came ─ very soon after 2:30 p.m., and with his mother ─ the fog was back; they were anxious to be off, so mom didn't get much of a visit out of us; I originally arrived at 11:30 a.m.

We left, to find the fog had reversed its earlier positioning, being quite clear after leaving the Kennedy area.

I was driven directly home; I would have preferred to have stayed at mom's and then walked home.

I lied down about 4:00 p.m. to nap before going over and spending the evening at Bill's watching TV, but I clearly awoke not too long after 5:00 p.m. That young brat upstairs sure isn't making my life peaceful.

There was thick fog when I left at 6:30 p.m. for Bill's, mailing the $5 tithe I think I forgot about earlier this month, an order for 4 Currier & Ives winter scene pewter plates, and Bennet's The Bowl of Baal.   

I was fed some peanuts at Bill's, and stayed to watch The Macahans from 8:30 p.m. - 11:00 p.m. He gave me a stack of comics to take home with me in the fog.

Tomorrow night he is to see about the GED course Cathy & Randy have both been involved with.

Bed at 11:20 p.m.

I paid Bill his third $1 for yesterday's turkey.
The cheque was $50 ─ my monthly pay for working each Friday at a New Westminster charitable organization as a truck swamper. These payments were always made out from an account at the Royal Bank branch located on Columbia Street in New Westminster. 

I had no photo identification, nor any bank account there or anywhere else. Consequently, cashing a cheque could be something of a problem.

Fortunately for me, there was an employee at that branch named Mary (I think) ─ quite a wholesome and attractive young woman ─ who had taken it upon herself to make my life easier anytime she saw me in the bank. If I failed to find her at one of the cashier or teller stations, and had to face someone else, this blessed Mary ─ if she was to notice me thereupon ─ would rush over and vouch for me, declaring that I was who I claimed to be because she knew me personally.

I half-loved this dear lass, but never had the confidence to try and socialize with her.

The Scott-Town or Scottown plaza is located at 96th Avenue & Scott Road (120th Street) in Surrey. The former name for 96th Avenue was Townline Road, and so Scott + Town.

I don't know if O'Farrell's is the correct spelling, but it was a short-lived supermarket in the Scottown plaza. McColl's was a delicious peanut butter in a 48-ounce can. The pharmacy in Scottown also had a post office, so I would stop in there for anything like that.

My old friend William Alan Gill rented a bachelor suite, roughly four or so blocks from my room. The previous day, we had enjoyed an enormous turkey feast at the rented home of my younger brother Mark and Mark's beautiful girlfriend, Catherine Jeanette Gunther. Bill had bought the turkey for something over $13, and I was contributing $3 towards it.     

I do not remember Bill ever taking a GED course, so I doubt that he did. He was motivated because Jeanette ("Cathy") and my maternal cousin Randy Halverson evidently both had undertaken it.