A housewife, an accountant and a lawyer were asked, “How much is 2+2?” The housewife replies: “Four!”. The accountant says: “I think it’s either 3 or 4. Let me run those figures through my spreadsheet one more time.” The lawyer pulls the curtains, dims the lights and asks in a hushed voice, “How much do you want it to be?”
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Tuesday 26 January 2016
Eventually, managed to get a few hours kip in. I sprang awake just before 0600 hrs and to the porcelain. Boy, was the blood flowing, from the usual areas. Had a mess to clean up again, and stopping the flow took ages!
Readied the laundry for when BJ calls to give me a lift to the launderette, very kind of him too.blood!
I didn’t have a shave for fear of using the razor, as it is normal for me to have a little cut or nick each time I do shave with the razors. I’m going to see if I can get another electric one to replace the old one that blew up a few months ago, from Asda today to use. I can’t get a good shave with electric ones, and they take more time than the standard razors to use, but needs must; with the bleeding this morning I’ve decided to force myself to get and use one to avoid any Whoopsiedanglepops and to bleed to death. Well, better safe than sorry. Hehe!
I made a cuppa, took my medications (with an extra Senna), and got the laptop on to finish on Monday’s, and start this diary off.
Feeling cold this morning, due I expectto the blood being so thin now the INR level is so high?
Still, the rent arrears were explained to me yesterday, not that I entirely understood why some ‘extras’ added to the basic rent have to be charged on different days than others. I have additional charges for; CCTV, Caretaking, Communal Light, TV Reception, Sheltered Accommodation Services?, Charge Warden, Care Alarm Property and Lift Maintenance.
I thought I’d have a look at the original paperwork in the folder.
After getting out the big folder and sorting through each one, I could not find the Nottingham City Homes one.
This information confused me a little, well, a lot, as I know I’d used it yesterday. Perhaps I’d left it in my bag. A look there proved I had not left it in my bag.
Perplexed now, I searched around without any luck.
I returned to the laptop defeated, and guess what I spotted in the see-through red folder behind the laptop?
The Nottingham City Hoes folder! Sad Innit?
Waiting for BJ to call to say he’s on his way.
He called shortly, and I rushed around getting the washing and accoutrements gathered, and went downstairs and walked to the end of the road to meet BJ.
He lifted me to the launderette, where I managed a chin-wag with Mandy.
Nipped into the chemist next door to get my extra prescription Codeine Phosphate tablets.
We said out farewells to Mandy, and as we were coming out and getting into the BJ’s car, we were talking about Watson Fothergill.
BJ told me that Watson Fothergill had been Christened Fothergill Watson and had changed his name. This got me interested, and as we talked about the famous and creative Nottingham Architect, BJ said he’d take me to see his gravestone in the ‘Rock Cemetary’ not far away on the way into town.
By now it was very windy, and the rain had started to fall. Despite this, I just had to take the opportunity to have a look at Watsons grave.
It was a while before we could find it, but it was worth the effort without any doubt.
I had a walk around, without falling over or down in the damp shaggy overgrowth of the thousands of old graves there.
The view from the middle I found appealing. I don’t think they are actually burying anyone there anymore, and it is saturated with graves, and I’m sure there’s no more room spare.
They are allowing families to add to those already there to past relatives though BJ says.
He called me over to take a look at one headstone, and it was so original we both fell in love with the ingenuity of whoever designed it.
It had been shaped like a tree trunk with cut off branches and made of stone.The witting: Henry Hunter – Died in Amityville, New York – November
The witting: Henry Hunter – Died in Amityville, New York – November 15th, 1899.
And the writing was made to look as if it had been cut into the bark of the tree.
I wish I’d thought of that! Hehe!
We moved on to Asda. Where I managed to buy an electric shaver. (When I opened it hours later, to find in only had round two-pin plug connector, so I couldn’t use it! Huh!)
BJ dropped me at the flats as the rain got worse and the wind even stronger and noisier. I struggled up to the apartment with the washing and shopping, straight to the porcelain first thing I did.
As I unloaded the shopping, I recalled buying two packets of cream cakes, with the intention of giving one to BJ in thanks for the lift. But, of course, I forgot all about them.
Still I knocked on the lady neighbours next door flats door, luckily she was in, and gave her a pack.
Then put away the clean togs and got into me jammy bottoms.
Set the oven on a low light, so I could warm up me ready cooked bacon hock I’d purchased at Asda, with some potato scones later, with the sour bread.
Then started to update this diary, and do the graphics for it.
Feeling a bit uncomfortable with the beard growth, but I’d better not risk the razors – oh sod it! All the expense, getting the damned shaver, and now I’ve got to get out tomorrow to buy an adapter so that I can use the flipping thing! Humph!
Got the bacon done and added the potato cakes and had them with soda bread, Cumberland sausage, baked beans and a sprinkle of vinegar, followed by the cream cakes. Oh, I am a pig!
Washed the pots then tried to stay awake to listen to the radio.
Nodding off was being resisted by the racing brain at this point.