Friday 30^th October 2015

Woke 0555hrs, bits of me dreams racing about in me head, by the time I’d stirred and encouraged Arthur Itis to allow me move me knees and got a pen and paper to write down what I recalled, most of the memories had faded into oblivion! Huh! Something about me digging through soil underground, and coming across people who told me I was digging the wrong way and sent in another direction… that’s all I can now recall.

Still, the rumbling innards are not so bad now, Arthur is only niggling a bit, Anne Gyna is nice and quiet, the ulcer and reflux valve no bother, and only, as I found when I went for me first visit to the porcelain, Little Inchy is giving me real concern and bother, bleeding a way to his heart’s content! Took ages to stop it this time.

The kitchen looks a right mess in its part sorted state. The rain was coming yet again.

When I made a cuppa to have me medications with using the new bottle of Sterilised milk from the fridge – it looked black and not right? I thought I might have not rinsed the cup out properly so started again and made another. Summat still didn’t look right? Eventually I realised I’d bought a bottle of sterilised milk okay, but it was ‘fat free skimmed sterilised milk’ – tasteless crap! I might as well have used tap water! Tsk! Just bout better than no cuppa at all.

Laptop on and finished off yesterdays diary and started this one.

I noticed the top of the fire-surround shelf had items on it that for some reason installed me into memory mode?

Right to left:

Memory 1: A photo frame of Chrissie on me knee at the Arnold Labour club around 1970. What happened later that night was a first for us… a happy first.

Memory 2: The £1 wall clock. I used to make a magazine for the lads at Sawley Security and bought several of these as prizes for a competition in one issue. Happy times then. This reminded me of the two lads who I met with on me walk along the Trent Embankment the other week. First time I’d seen the in about 30 years. Gossiped nattered and got a telephone number to ring them to arrange a meet proper… but when I rang the number, it was not recognised. Curse!

Memory 3: Maggie Thatcher squeaky toy. This reminded me of when I nearly voted Conservative. A shameful time!

Memory 4: The Kenyan policeman’s truncheon. Brought back from Nairobi in 1962 when it was in a brand new pure white condition. Hand carved for the government by tribesmen. How did I get it? It was traded for a packet of 20 Woodbine with a local policeman. Ah, memories.

Memory 5: The extendable baton. This reminded of me of the training day in the Derbyshire hills where I first used this protective weapon. The three-day training course was part of a national qualification in Security, can’t remember the name of it, or the actual place. But it was out in the dales, had cheap beer and I had to share a room with three other underpaid morons who couldn’t get a proper job. One was persistently giving off putrid emissions of wind every night,  one was the loudest snorer I’d ever come across and the other was the boss of the company.

At the end of the course I had bruises, cuts and a broken ankle. Somehow I passed it? It was surely a fiddle due to the company being desperately short of staff I reckon.

Memories, Hey-ho!

Did some Facebooking and checked me emails then started working on a graphicationalisationlistic idea I’ve had for the TFZers site, using Coreldraw Corelpaint and Serif draw to create this one – so fingers crossed it’ll come out alright.

It didn’t!

Steve rang while I was in the bath – fancy that! He’s coming over in 2 hours.

I started to get the kitchen stuff ready for sorting.

Steve arrived and I showed off what I got done in the kitchen with the drawers and wheelie trays. He was totally unimpressed.

I then showed him me new carpet. He was totally unimpressed.

I then told him  about the rules regarding drilling into the walls. He was totally unimpressed.

He then drilled into the walls and told me he’d brought the wrong raw-plugs and would have to return next week to fix it. I was totally unimpressed.

He made up the two drawers ready.

He then changed the light-bulb with a new one for me.

I left the flat with him, said thanks and walked through the park into Sherwood where I met a lady and her angel of a little daughter. ‘Cause Mum was with her, I gave her a packet of white chocolate buttons. Mum said “You’re an angel” I said and pointed to the daughter, “She is the angel!”

I plodded on to the shops and called in Wilko and got some brown raw-plugs as instructed by Steve, ready for net week hen he returns.

Then had a walk in the Co-op store to use me £2 off voucher. Of course this meant I had to buy a beetroot and apple loaf and some lemon curd cream cakes… Ahem!

It was well dark by the time I came out and it was dodgy walking back through the park and down the path to the flats due to the wet leaves, but at least it had stopped raining.

Got back in the flat and put the nosh away, WC’d and tried again to set-up a lottery payment on the Nottingham Hospice Charity site – no luck again!

Updated this diary while awaiting the arrival of the Morrison’s order that I forgotten about and if I’d remembered about, then I wouldn’t have spent so much at the Co-op store. Wot a plonka!

Morrison’s arrived early.

Put the stuff anywhere for now – cause me plan is to reorganise the kitchen in the morning.

Or at least to start doing it.

Got me nosh done, vegetarian tonight.

Potato roti, beetroot, cheese and potato croquettes, garden peas (I took the photo here then realised me pan of peas was bubbling away – tsk! half a loaf of Beetroot & apple bread and a lemon curd whatever-it-is thing I got from the Co-op with some single spray cream on it.

Is yer ready?… rated this 9.55/10. Bestest ever!

In the middle of all the mayhem in the flat, I got me things ready to settle and have a read of the paper/book. I thought to myself it don’t get any better than this.

Comfy chair, haemorrhoid cushion, the most comfortable and warm throw I’ve ever had, soft drinks to hand, nibbles to hand, me grabber nearby for when I drop things, newspaper, and book to hand… marvellous!

I managed to forget about the absolute mess and mayhem the kitchen was in, telling missen I’d make a start on sorting it in the morning – then thought, or should I make a start on sorting the paperwork first?

So much to do again now. But I was feeling good, the last thing I remember after settling down was singing Elvis’s “They remind me too much of you” to myself and getting annoyed with myself cause I kept singing the same four lines over and over… couldn’t remember the others.