Inchcock Diary 01

Friday 29th August 2014

Late night for me last night – didn’t wake up until 0630hrs, feeling groggy and shaky.

Had a good rinse, dried off and sprayed my manlyless flabby body with Fly-spray by mistake for Antiperspirant.

This is not the first time that I have done something like this… proof I suppose, that an Inchock never learns!

More worry followed: The laptop took a good 12 minutes to load from booting… oh dear; soon I may disappear from the ether I fear.

Angina bad today, bad as it’s ever been really.

This totally knocks me concentration off course, and I decided it was best not to go out today. Then I changed me mind.

I had a walk/limp into Sherwood and took some stuff to the Nottingham Hospice charity shop.

Called in Wilko and got a 4litre weedkiller. How I was stupid enough to buy it then, knowing I’d have to carry it around with me on me walk I don’t know – but I regretted it later.

Caught the bus into town. Then caught but out to Lidl on Ilkeston Road, to see if they had any of the onions in that me Sister Jane wanted, and Lidl in Carrington had ran out of. But no.

Foolishly, I decided to walk all the way home. (Brave Fool!)

Got to where the Aldi shop was, and called in to see if they had the onions in. No.

I noticed how many folk walk along the centre of the roads nowadays, and cyclist ride on the pavements?

Hobbled on (Feet and knees bad now – Tut!) and called in Asian supermarket for a look around. Got some bits, just to add to the weight I was already struggling to carry in me bags like. (Twit!)

Last stretch into Carrington was agony – everything seemed to start then. Angina off again, knees and feet painful, piles performing, stomach ulcer even joined in giving me gip then. (Tsk!)

Got in and collapsed metaphorically speaking.

Saturday 30th August 2014

Up at 0500hrs – knackered and in pain again.

Had to sort out me Inch that had been bleeding in the night.

Not happy at all, depression crept in a bit. (Tut)

Did nowt but feel sorry fer missen, getting me blogs ready, reading me book, watching DVD, and visiting the WC.

Sunday 31st August 2014

Hell of a job to get up this morning, the back wasn’t too interested in letting me. Had to sort bleeding out agen. (Tsk!)

Feeling so low once more.

Managed to get up, and realised then that I’d missed me evening medications when I found the full pot… what a clot! (The poetry comes free folks – hehehe)

By the time I’d got the laptop going, a cuppa and me porridge ready, the angina returned and was giving me some gip too. I even had a dizzy spell, but that might be due to me missing last night’s meds?

Struggling to get me posts formulated, making silly errors, hope I can spot em before posting.

Tired today.

* Sorry this ain’t as funny as usual folks, when I feel a bit better, I’ll be back to form. TTFN

My mate big John rang, to see if I wanted to go to the Steaming display at Wollaton today. “Yes please” I responded. “Be ready for one o’clock he says.

BJ and his better half picked me up at 1400hrs, and off we drove to the Steaming Fair.

It were grand there, I really enjoyed it speaking to real people with a similar interest in steam and old transport.

Bought a book of old trolleybus’s while I was there, I love em.

They ran me back to the hovel, I thanked them and reminded BJ to bring his memory stick to the launderette Tuesday, so I could put piccies onto it. Off they went.

Gloom returned.

 

2 thoughts on “Inchcock Diary 01

  1. Marissa Bergen – Burbank, Ca – This blog is a semi auto-biographical view of my life, beginning as a rocker chick from Brooklyn, moving on to playing in a punk band on New York's Lower East Side, to my current lot in life as a working mother of two, now living in Los Angeles. I love writing because you can be whoever you want to be when you write. Therefore, I would never want to pigeon-hole myself too much in my blog. However, I don't think I will ever deviate too much from what is innately in my blood, that being humor and sarcasm. Recently I have been turning more and more to poetry. I like poetry because it let's you say so much more with so much less, so much more about so little, and it also distances you from the subject matter, making you much less likely to offend someone, which I would probably otherwise do on a daily basis.
    Marissa Bergen

    Sorry, Inchcock. Sounds like a bad day. Wishing you the best!

    • Inchcock – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
      Inchcock

      Cheers Marissa.

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