Up 0415hrs: Lay there pondering on the weird dreams I had during the night. What I could remember anyway. The rooftop chases were in there somewhere, old workplace bits and my being refused entry at St Peter’s gates and my setting up tent and making a fire to cook sausages on?
Eventually I tackled getting out of the refusing to work £300 second-hand recliner chair… not easy, but I managed it without any injury, tried pressing the button again afterwards, and noisily and shudderingly worked again?
WRWW and WRHD tended to, no bleeding, good that.
Made a cuppa and found the scribbled notes I made last night when the nurse telephoned me. Noted the INR and Cardiac appointments and added them to Google calendar.
Another WRWW (Wet-Room Wee-wee), and got on with sorting Tuesday’s diary.
Reembered the Asda (Walmart) delivery was coming this morning, I’d ordered some stuff along with the fodder to use for pressies later.
The Asda man arrived and left the stuff. Only one substitution, this time, I’d ordered a box of Ferrero Rocher to use for Olive’s Birthday later, they had subrogated these with large box of Ferrero Collection, which was dearer, but they charged me the original £3.50 not the £5.50 of the collection price. Nice!
The Polish Bozek looked so tasty.
The large jar of sour pickled cucumber was only 90p, very cheap, I hope they taste okay?
Then after putting the goods away, nibbles in the nibbles box, I realised I’d not taken the morning medications yet – so I did, with another mug of tea.
WRWW, Made a start on graphicationalisationing and this diary, then onto Facebook, then checked emails, then a WRWW.
Deana (Flat warden) knocked upon the door to inform me I had a pile of washing that had been left in the dryer – AGAIN! Oh dear… I went down and retrieved it, red-facedly!
Got on with the new funny post for hours and hours, got it finished though and posted off. “Inchcock’s Lecture to the Brexit Remain supporters”
Quote from within: “Mr Steedenski asked if it could be a bottle of Henri Jayer Cros Parantoux, Vosne-Romanee Premier Cru, adding, it is produced from grapes grown on a 2.5-acre site, this Burgundy and said to be full-bodied and rich”? I think it might go down alright, but yer never know.
Feeling peckish, but I resisted any naughty nibbles and had just two rice cakes and a bit of Melba toast… Urgh! Hehe!
Nipped over to see Olive, she looked radiant today, despite her ailments. We had a cup of tea and a gossip.
When I returned to the flat, I really felt so happy at seeing her, but so drained it was hard to understand why?
No strength or willpower to do anything other than make a dinner and collapse in the rickety £300 second-hand recliner with a drink of orange juice and the meal. I did remember, as instructed, not to take any Warfarin tablets though.
I tried some of the sour cucumbers wit the fodder, I liked them. Had to force myself to eat the bitter tasting Lidl ‘Special’ tomatoes, they were not nice at all.
Rated this overall a 7.9/10, the tomatoes spoilt it.
The trips for a WRWW decreased, or perhaps I was just too tired to respond? Hehe!
Weary as I felt, I had to find something on the TV I wanted to watch, before I nodded off, then kept waking up every few minutes until well into the morning, around 0200hrs then I got off proper like.
The meeting took place at the closed down after the arson attacked Sewer Lane Sports Arena in Nottingham.
Inchcock told reporters before the event: I felt so sorry about the outcome of the Brexit Vote, and particularly for the supporters of the Remain campaign. I felt it my duty to cheer the up as best I could. I asked the Nottingham City Council if they would allow us to use the Sewer Lane stadium for my encouraging lecture.
Micheal Steedenski offered to become my campaign manager. Well, he understands things like this, and he only asked me to buy him one bottle of Claret in payment. I thought this was so generous. Mr Steedenski asked if it could be a bottle of Henri Jayer Cros Parantoux, Vosne-Romanee Premier Cru, adding, it is produced from grapes grown on a 2.5-acre site, this Burgundy and said to be full-bodied and rich”.
Not knowing much about wines, I agreed and send out my part-time carer, Grizelda to buy a bottle. She returned three weeks later with the aforesaid bottle of Claret.
Had I known this bottle of French Burgundy is collector’s item and cost £4,894, I would not be living in Council emergency accommodation now, although I have always like camping in tents.
I thought the lecture went well.
A youthful looking Duncan Robertson (94-left) was designated to report on the meeting.
He also took a job as a paid in whisky temporary bouncer when offered him by Danny Soz, the local gang leader and Treasurer for the closed sports arena and Lager Addiction Support Group of South London.
Full Report from Mr Robertson follows:
As Inchcock rose to address the depressed crowds, his arthritis twinged ad he fell back into the chair. Shirley Blamey (Claret pourer-outerer to Mr Steedenski) rushed forward to make sure the chair wasn’t damaged and asked the crowd please not to laugh so loud, as she had a hangover.
Amidst the laughter, Inchcock involuntarily passed wind violently and started his lecture.
“Friends Romans, Countrymen, is it… No, that’s not right” he muttered to himself, he regained his composure and continued, despite the catcalls, jeers and demands for him to Go Forth & Multiply from his audience.
“We, the Remain supporting voters, the logical ones, the compassionate ones, need not have feelings of defeat, although of course we have been defeated, I know, but we got a bigger percentage than any Government in Ireland has ever been elected with…” Ms Blamey called out above the other hecklers “This is England yer pillock!”
“I know it is” he replied.
“Well, you said Ireland!”
“Did I, perhaps I meant Island?”
The well lubricated Mr Steedenski burst into song “♫ Oh Island in the Sun, born to me by my father’s hand…♫”
“Ah”… declared Inchcock, “Now yer talking, Harry Belafonte great stuff he made and sang mate!”
A natty-hatted good looking young (19¼) Frank Sinatra fan in the crowd took offence at this and charged the stage to try and get at Inchcock as Mr Steedenski slipped off his chair in a heap on the floor.
This pleased the crowd, and much cheering took place. They gave up trying to revive Mr Steedenski, stopped Inchcock’s bleeding nose and lips, and he continued once again with his lecture:
“The presence of naughty not nice innuendos is not to be tolerated within our Remain armoury – instead everytime something rises in price, taxes increase, immigration goes up, pensions get pegged, free bus passes are eliminated or when the Outer Mongolian Tugrik is devalued, we can blame the Vote Leave shower for them!”
At this, a mob of Remainers who had sneaked in at the back of the hall through where the door once was, lurched forward, and mayhem ensued. Fighting, spitting, kicking and scratching, the blood flowed, people panicked and just as Shirly was lighting a spliff too, this caused her to drop her S.T. Dupont Paris Lighter – Ligne 2, Yellow Gold Diamond Headed lighter and the flames made things worse.
The Bouncer’s were having a great time.
A mad rush for the exits followed, and the fighting lessened, much to the chagrin of Danny Soz, Duncan Robertson and Shirley, who were enjoying it.
Outside the police fire brigade and ambulance crews were there in number, they soon had the culprit under arrest, thanks to the evidence of the many eyewitnesses who fingered Inchcock as the aggressor and instigator of the riot.
When Inchcock was released 5 months later, Mr Steedenski told him of an excellent idea to promote himself again – he should become a lecturer for the Remain Voters, and he had already booked a hall in advance and had checked it with Shirley, but would need another bottle of the Henri Jayer Cros Parantoux, Vosne-Romanee Premier Cru, as payment.
He had hired the Olympic Stadium in Athens.
Inchcock is currently taking stock of his situation, as he has a Cardiac procedure, Knee replacement operation, Duodenal Ulcer treatment, Haematology assessments, bladder problems and he’s fell in love with a lady at his flat complex, Olive.
0400hrs: Reluctantly I woke and lay thinking of things needing doing today. Got to see Deana about the British Gas repeated overcharge at 0830hrs, Clinic and INR blood test appointments, pick up the prescriptions from the chemist and so on.
The £300 second-hand recliner chair shuddered in response to me pressing the button to for it to be lowered so I could get out of it for a WRWW+HD visit. All okay on this first visit.
Kettle on and took the medications, titivated the kitchen and back for yet another bothersome WRWW (Wet-Room Wee-wee).
Ablutions carried out.
Laptop on and finished the Monday post.
Another quick WRWW (Had a few of these today) and I started this one off.
Checked the emails and then got myself sorted out for the walk to see Deana at the community shed. While doing this, I remembered a bit of a dream I’d had I was again being chased, then found myself drowning in a gravy dish and was quite happy about it, eating a giant sausage as I departed life?
Deana sorts out the mysterious second meter charge from the French-owned British Gas for me. Many Thanks Deana! X
Deana, one again contacted the French-owned British Gas con artists and liars for me. in an effort to sort out why I keep getting charged for the electricity from a meter that does not exist!
Only took her around 30 minutes this tie, before they told her they would close the account (Like they told her on June 7th).
I thanked her and nipped back to the flats, wondering how long it would be before I get another demand for the £245 to be paid from this imaginary meter?
The Fresh Fish van was outside of the building, and Olive was getting some, so I joined her and got some smoked mackerel fillets. Walked her back to her flat and had a gossip.
To the flat and updated this twaddle.
It was soon time for the walk to Carrington and the Doctors for the INR blood test, then I must get the prescriptions from the chemist, then to the clinic, and try to get some yellow tomatoes from somewhere.
Dropped the rubbish bags down the chute, then down the lift to the lobby, buy was it raining!
Under umbrella shot – Chestnut Walk
Walked own to the bottle bank with me four empty pickle jars and wind-proof umbrella up.
Took this photograph from under the brolly from the end of Chestnut Walk outside the flats.
The road looked more like a canal! Hehe!
Carrying the bag and balancing the brolly was difficult – in fact it ensured that my back was soaking by the time I’d got to the surgery! I still managed it in around 38 minutes though.
The nurse soon did me blood test and we had a chinwag too. Gave her the nibbles and set off to the Chemists to get my prescriptions.
Then to Lidl where I got some very naughty jars of cured pork, dried onions, Bananas and tomatoes and a can of Citrus Air-Spray. (Not the yellow ones, they were from Spain and I knew they would taste bitter). The gal on the check-out dropped the can of spray and the plastic top broke. She told me to fetch another can form the shelves… but a young chap in the queue behind shot off an got it for me. Thanked him, good of him that!
Then got even wetter, as I had to carry two bags now, and the brolly was too much for me to handle and cope with.
Cor Blimey it rained!
Caught a bus on Hucknall Road to the Clinic, a further soaking as I walked to the building. I entered to find from the grumpy receptionist bloke, that my appointment was for next week, not this! Whoopsiedangleplop and embarrassment again!
Caught the bus back into Carrington and another one on Mansfield Road back into Sherwood. Got wet once more as I walked up the hill and over the pelican crossing to the bus stop in the hope that a bus to the flats would be coming soon.
Luckily one was due in five minutes… then, Whoopsiedangleplop number two occurred as it arrived. I made my way forward and the right ankle gave way, but very luckily I say… as I went over backwards, a lady behind me caught me and stopped me hitting the deck. Thanked her profusely and got onto the bus, red-faced and wet!
Another soaking yet, when I got off the bus and walked to the flat’s foyer. The rain was vicious now.
On the lift up to the flats, a bloke carrying a little dog, got on with his missus and another woman. The other woman did not like dogs coming into the complex at all, she told them dogs are barred other than guide dogs, and generally let her feelings be known about it – quiet an exciting altercation and lift journey really. I thought about it after they had all got off on a lower floor and I continued up to the twelfth. If someone had had to give up their pet dog to come into these flats, it would surely be a benefit to them to see the dog occasionally? Then I thought, what-about other people who gave up their dog and then see someone else’s? I didn’t mind, it was a friendly little thing well under control?
The chemist parcel dwarfs the other stuff.
Onward, well, upward to the flat and WRWW session.
Put the things I’d bought away.
The bag of medications dwarfed the fodder I’d bought. Hehe!
As I put on the kettle to make a cuppa and take the midday medications, the rain stopped suddenly completely?
Thoughts turned to what I was going to have for my meal. The cured pork with a salad tempted me. Then I remembered the unwanted smoked mackerel I’d accidentally bought earlier that has to be used up. Then I thought no, I fancy some of the cured pork, then I thought, should I be using up this fish before it goes out of date, then I looked at the fish and there was no date on it? Then I decided to make my mind up when it comes to making the repast. A long word came to mind, ‘Procrastination’ that should be my middle name! Haha!
Updated this diary. Then went on Facebook and checked the emails.
Cabinet ready for sorting
Olive’s grandson has just arrived with the second wet-room storage box all made up for me and put it in place. Super that, thanked him and asked if I could give him some money in appreciation, but he wouldn’t take any.
I can get in touch with the caretaker, if he’s off his mobile and I can find him, to hire him to do the painting of the bare wood for me now. Then I an sort out what is to go where and make use of the cabinets that Roger has so kindly done for me.
View from sweet Olive’s bedroom.
Went to visit Olive. A lovely chinwag and bonding session… lovely sojourn in happiness and bliss. Despite my feeling a bit drained with the days activities. A hug and cuddle and I had to depart back to number 72 flat.
Took the evening medications.
Got the fodder on the go straight away, while I was still awake, reckon I did a bit too much today. Still, the dizzies stayed off.
Fish nosh tonight
Had smoked mackerel, fish sticks, fishcake, last of the pod peas, pickled egg, roast onions, onion rings, apple, the horrible tomatoes from Lidl and the last dessert.
Half way through I got a phone call on the landline. By the time I struggled out of the £300 second-hand recliner, the caller rang off.
Settled back into the grinding chair, and back to the meal. The mobile rang. It was the doctors surgery. The results from this mornings INR Blood Test were back. Far too high at 5.9, and they needed to tell me not to take any Warfarin tonight, and gave me the dosages for the rest of the week.
I told them I’d just taken tonight’s doses, she said start by not taking any tomorrow then. I manipulated myself out of the £300 second-hand recliner and wrote them down.
She then made my next INR appointment for 0920hrs Tuesday 19th July, then reminded me I had the cardiac appointment at 1010hrs on Wednesday 20th July.
Thanked her and mounted the now not operating £300 second-hand mechanical recliner chair.
Started to watch a DVD, James Bond’s Octopussy, but didn’t get to see the ending, even after several nod-offs and rewinds.