The morning chat with the electrical box? Hehe!

Thursday 3rd August 2017

Haitian Creole: Jedi 3yèm Mwa Out 2017

0425hrs: I woke in a right pickle comprehension-wise. I’m sure the head and brain were shaking as I battled to stop the torrent of thoughts, all of a destructive to sanity nature. Slowly they steadied down to an Allegretto pace, and a few could be identified, not that this helped much because second by second they evaporated altogether, and an eerie inner calmness came. I sat pondering on what had happened and decided it would be best to try and forget about it, for fear of losing it entirely in trying to understand what and why this had happened.

0500hrs: Out of the £300 second-hand recliner and off to the Porcelain Throne. Much internal bleeding from Haemorrhoid Harold this morning, a lot of cleaning up and medicating needed and done.

Took a photo of the skyline, came out a bit blurred despite Shaking Shaun and Dizzy Dennis both being absent at this time?

Made a brew, did the Health Checks and took the medications.

The weight had gone down a bit, a tiny bit, but this was cheery news for me, and I upgraded my emotionalisation classification to a Defcon 3 status. Hehehe!

Started to do this diary and it dawned on me that it might be an idea to get the vegetables ready for cooking later, for when I tackle making the Beef in Black bean sauce meal.

Got the carrots, fresh peas and rutabaga chopped up and in the saucepan. Sliced the peppers for adding later. Of course, a visit from Craig Cramps came on as I did this, and a few peas are still AWOL, hiding away somewhere in the kitchen, perhaps never to be seen again?

Off I went to make another brew, and the sky looked a bit threatening but beautiful at the same time.

Back on the diary work.

Not for long though, off to the Porcelain Throne again.

Got yesterdays diary finalised and posted.

Email checks.

WordPress reading was done.

A quick blast on Facebook.

Time to get ready for the Tenants Social Hour visitation. I hope they are happier than last week if not, I might consider stopping attending it.

Did the ablutionisationing, dressed and set off to the Temporary Winwood Social Shed for the chinwagging session.

The wind and rain greeted my as hobbles all alone to the Tenants Social Hour at the end of Chesnut Walk.

No one in sight, not even any signs of workmen or their vehicles? This made me wonder if I’d got things wrong again. Like the day? Hehe!

Arrived at the cabin and only a few folk were in attendance (10) at this time. Others soon joined, but the final total of about 20, out of the currently available 548 residents was a bit small. Perhaps just as well, though. There were only about six free chairs left?

Had a few good nattering sessions, all the same. Handed in the raffle prizes and gave out the nibbles. Said my farewells and went to the bus stop.

The cars had been parked handily for the disabled, hard of seeing residents, to get by them, without going onto the slippery wet grass or the roadway. Tsk! Only two at the bus stop when I arrived. But in a couple of minutes, another nine joined us as the bus arrived. I had the chinwag with the lovely Margaret en route down the hill, where I dropped off and got the brolly out, and wobbled down to the Polish Food Shop.

Where much money was spent on unwanted fodder. Humph!

Including a small loaf of sliced Latvian Sweet & Sourdough bread. Never come across this before, just hope I like it?

It feels terribly weighty to me: so I won’t have to eat much of it at a time.

Poddled down the hill to the Co-op store. Got some onion bhajis, a lot dearer and smaller than those from Morrisons were? Fresh pod peas (Well, it’s something lose while podding them innit? Hehe!). Red onions, and some potatoes. The tattooed chap serving me asked if I wanted a receipt? Odd that I thought and told I would please, especially as I remembered to take my Co-op card with me. There was a voucher given me with the payment slip. For £1 off my next purchase of £5 or over. Little monkey was trying it on to get the voucher for himself, methinks!

Up the hill, proudly ignoring the fresh cream cakes on display in the Bird’s shop window, and insouciantly strolling up to the first Charity shop to have a look around, as there was plenty of time before the bus was due. I bought a small tea cup from them. Hopefully, it will pay for itself if I use it when on the computer or attempting to watch TV and falling asleep leaving the old bigger full cup to get cold, I can allow a small cup of tea go cold instead? I think. Haha!

Called into the next charity shop, then the Nottingham Hospice Charity shop, but did not purchase anything in these stores.

Then in the Dentists to check on the date for my next appointment. But they were so busy and irritable I decided not to bother them and withdrew to the bus stop outside.

Tenant Roy was there, and we had a laugh or two before the bus arrived and whisked us up the hill to the flats.

Roy took one of my bags to carry on the top of his four-wheeled trolly for me, and I got the brolly over us both in return?

The rain started getting a bit heavier, and the wind grew more violent, as they usually do around our flats.

As I got to the 12th floor and alighted, Roy who was on his way to the 13th level, had to remind me to take the bag he had on his trolley, with me! Tsk!

I got into the apartment, and the Porcelain Throne was facilitated.

Put the things away and made a brew in the new small cup as I got the computer going and updated this diary again.

Went on Facebook to catch up on what I didn’t have time for earlier.

Then got the meal cooking away. Set the timer thingamajig.

WordPress reading again.

Wee-wee.

Mail arrived, it had been redirected, from the Clinic. Nothing concrete. Apparently, after high or low Red inducing blood tests, they have to wait for three blood tests and balance them before they can make a new date for the op. These are not the exact words used, but I can’t find the letter now it comes to writing this diary. Tsk! Anyway, I’ll have to wait to see what the new date will be. Hey-ho!

Nosh sorted. A bit of a job getting it all sorted, but it tasted lovely. Onion Bhaji’s, black bean sauce (from a jar), diced swede, diced carrots, red peppers, red onions, tomatoes, one little sole lonely potato (Haha!), fresh garden peas and shredded beetroot (from a jar). Followed with an apple and lemon-curd yoghourt.

The Latvian style sourdough bread was delicious.

As darkness descended I pondered, now the rain had stopped, to clean the pots and having a go at the tar marks on the outside of the kitchen window!

Opening it the wind rushed in and blew the kitchen towels and cleaning rags, plastic mixer jugs off of the pole I hang them on. It even blew some of the tea bags off the top of their pots, the brush and pan toppled over… what a picklement!

Closed the window and forgot the idea of scraping the annoying and ever increasing tiny black spots off of the glass and tidied up the kitchen instead.

A wee-wee and attention being given to Haemorrhoid Harold.

Guiltily, after settling to watch the Women’s Football, I did nibble a bit. But think far less than usual?

Fell asleep and woke an hour or so after the match had ended, had to find the result. When I found that England had lost 3-0, I didn’t mind missing the match at all.

The mind went all higgledy-piggledy on me then. Concentrating on one avenue of thought was impossible for me. The talons of my mind reached out and I pondered on, say, immigration. Then clawed another topic into the action box of the brain for my reflection, Terrorism. Next a few thoughts on why my mobile phone company (EE) are a load of crap. The structure and future of the universe were dissected next, and I worked out the end was nigh.  Did the moon landing really take place? Who shot Kennedy? Why has the Doctor taken me off of the morphine, just when I need it? Why am I so unconfident with people I meet? Why did Mother do a bunk? Why did I have to lose Suzanne? What are those damned marks on the kitchen window? Will I meet Albert Einstein when I croak out; Too late then to learn from him, I miss my pipe so much, I must get some more of the Sweet & Sourdough bread, Will they ever get the INR blood level right? What day is it? Why am I half-hanging out of £300 second-hand recliner?

Truthfully, I’m not sure if I dreamed these thoughts or thought them in reality. I’m convinced there were many more trains of deliberations I ruminated upon.

I was mentally wearied, and when unexpectedly, anthropinisation came over me, I managed to get to sleep, at last.

TTFN, all.