Friday 11th September 2015
I did this one on the left as a Caption Competition on TFZ: “What is Daddy Mallard saying to his family?”
0650hrs: Woke up in the chair where I fell asleep last night (Well this morning really) while watching TV… again!
Mused for a few minutes on the dream I’d had and wrote down notes to record later.
I was in a queue with millions of recently died humans in it – the ground was invisible, mists lingering all around, no sky or roof above, just faces above, all sorts of nationalities of faces, well, heads – no torso. They seemed to be talking to each of the other faces.
Signs appeared every hundred yards along the queue and the words lit up, but no one understood what they meant – but in the queue I spoke with Turbaned gentlemen, Red Indians and a Russian general and we understood each other I can’t recall what we were talking about though?
Then many of the group ‘popped, blew-up but no blood and disappeared, the line of the dead closed up? That’s about it memory-wise.
WC’d, made a cuppa and took me morning medications, I felt good this morning.
Cold this morning, I really must ask the caretaker how these night-storage heaters work again.
Laptop on and started this diary.
Did a search on the web, Facebooked, emails and blogged a bit.
So made a start.
First thing to open the kitchen window…
A challenge in itself, a painful one too!.
Getting me Arthritic digits in the minute gap without taking too much skin off me fingers, pulling out the stubby little button thing and holding it out whilst turning the heavy window with me other hand was not easy, and cause some language of a not-nice nature to burst from me lips.
But I eventually managed to get it turned all the way around so I could clean the outside of the window glass.
Got some window cleaner with vinegar, blue wipes, and attempted to clean the outside of the glass with it.
It just seemed to smear it though?
Got it rightish in the end by using Jif, Cif and Multi-purpose sprays and elbow grease.
Lucky that Arthur Itis didn’t visit me.
I couldn’t find me sponge mop anywhere.
Very confusing to me this was indeed, i was sure I’d brought one from the flea-pit?
Any-road I used this one.
Then rang Age UK’s Steve to ask him how the house sorting had gone on since he told me he’s look after everything. No answer so left a message.
Ran a bath and while it was filling he rang back – the answer was nothing had happened!
He’s going to call to see me later today. Huh!
Then titivated the kitchen and made a much-needed cuppa with me midday medications.
Then I began to do the windows in the living room.
Got me squeegee, bucket of water and glass spray out onto the balcony – terrible mess I got into. the windows were really filthy, the frames grotty and I came in after struggling to try to get em clean to do the insides – Dizzy-spell came and it was bad enough for me to stop working on them there and then. It didn’t help when eventually I started moving again and noticed the streaks and spots I’d missed on the windows – if I had been being paid to clean them, I wouldn’t have got paid – they were that bad! But I’d just struggled to get the mop, bucket and other stuff back into the cupboard room – and didn’t feel so well, just thought Sod-it!
Then I realised where the sponge mop was!
When I made the temporary curtain from the throw – I used it to hold it up! Huh!
I’m off down then, TTFN.
Nobody about at all.
The Community Shed was all lock-up, no caretakers to be found.
Got back to the flat and made a cuppa.
The hot water was not hot again! Tsk!
Updated this tosh while waiting for “No news – No progress Steve” who’s going on holiday for two weeks Steve to call from Age UK. He’s going to drop off the house key? Not good this!
Steve arrived and we had a chin-wag and a cup of tea – no progress on selling the house at all though. Steve went out on the balcony and lo and behold, his Missus was 12 floors down in the evening Sunshine with the dog and neighbour, so I got me Sony camera out and took a photo.
The evening sunshine shows how late in the day it was.
One animal en-route on the footpath through the park.
The swine nearly hit the woman’s baby in his pram!
Onward and into the Co-op store and had an amble round looking for bargains like. I got some orange scented soap powder, sliced red onions (Half price short dated), Special offer Viennese Swirls and a TV paper. Don’t know why, I always fall asleep watching it anyway nowadays, Tsk!). But they had no Beetroot and Apple bread.
At the checkout I struggled a bit to get me zip open on me pocket and the obviously experienced but impatient lady assistant looked up with her eyes to the roof, gave a look like Hyacinth Bouquet and gave me a couple of loud ‘Tuts’. So I was really pleased when I delayed her further by offering her the money-off voucher.
This soon changed however, when on me way back on me walk to go through the park, this Turd of a Nottingham Pavement Cyclist made the lady jump he passed so close to her… did I mention I’m not too keen on the ignorant, bullying, arrogant, nonchalant, illegal Pavement Cyclists that intimidate pedestrians, especially the infirm and elderly?
The Swine, the Bas… Never mind!
Lovely night, and no more dizzies, so a contented Inchcock got in the flat, put his nosh away, WD’d, made a cuppa, took his medications and got some chips on the oven to have with his salad of sorts.
Tried putting the settings right on the storage heaters and powered them.
I got the laptop on and updated this diary.
Busy day, tired, weary, drowsy and no cramps, no bleeding, no Arthur Itis or Anne Gyna… but can I get to sleep?