Friday 3rd November 2017
Shona: Chishanu 3 November 2017
0100hrs: Woke with a few vague memories of a dream. In a vast room, everything seemed azuline… desks, exams, test papers and angels floating about?
Nocturnal nibbling suspected, judging by the empty cheese nibble packets, lid off of the sweet jar and suspicious crumbs on my overweight wobbly belly. Cleaned things up and struggled out of the £300 second-hand recliner to the porcelain throne. I was sure that the rumbling innards indicated a massive and urgent need for an evacuation – but no. Much wind and effort did not produce any movement.
Put the kettle on and did the Health Checks.
Medications were taken, a mug of tea poured and back to the computer to finish yesterday’s Inchcock Today and posted it off.
WordPress Reading and commenting next.
Then Email checks.
Then onto Facebooking.
Worked on CorelDraw and CorelPaint Graphicationalisastioning.
This is TFZer, Nancy, from America.
The innards called me off to utilise the Porcelain Throne.
Back on the CorelDraw and created this TFZer graphic. Took me a few hours to get it anything as I wanted.
I got it posted and just hope it gets a few comments like and cheers folks up a bit.
Then I made one of myself in the flat as a zombie, vision, phantom, spectre, ghost or whatever you like to call it.
Just for the fun of it, I added text about my losing weight.
Which, is a little bit of a fib come naughty thing to claim when I posted it to Facebook.
Got on with the ablutionalisationing session.
Rubbish to the chute and then off to the bus stop along Chestnut Walk.
The builders looked busy today.
Up to the request stop and met three or four other tenants awaiting the arrival of the buses.
Mary, Welsh William, Irene and Doreen were there on the seating. Many others joined us, making around fifteen or so of us. When the buses arrived together, only Mary and I got onto the City Bound one. We sat next to each other and Mary was in excellent communicative form.
Dropped off in town and visited the Wilko Store. I got bleach, cleaners and batteries. Paid and off to the Poundworld Shop. They didn’t have any screw-lid containers. Got some nibbles and raffle prizes though.
Oh, and some single-serving packs of Crunchy-Nut Cornflakes.
As I came out of Poundworld, I thought I was being attacked by pigeons for a moment… Hehe!
I think someone had dropped some food or crumbs?
They had a right fight with other to get at whatever it was.
I crossed over the road to go see if the Poundland Shop had any of the containers I wanted, in stock.
They didn’t either, so I got some cheapo ones to manage with. I hope they keep the biscuits fresh for me. I got some chocolate nut nibbles as well.
I came out and took this picture along Milton Street facing out of town.
There was a street performer, playing a squeezebox, poorly.
I thought about taking his photograph but decided this might be the situation: as he eyed me with a Godfather-like threatening glare. Better safe than sorry I thought!
Passing Clinton Street again, and I noticed the roadworks fencing had blocked easy access to many of the stores there.
I felt a little sad for the owners of these stores. They had antisocial behaviour, competition and shoplifters to cope with, without further hassle. Tsk!
Hobbled along Upper Parliament Street towards the L9 bus stop, and spotted and photographed the rear-end of one of the new buses on King Street. This is one of the £17m fleets of Scania double-deckers powered by a biogas produced from sewage and waste, via anaerobic digestion. But you probably already knew that; I had to look it up. Hehe!
This group of Nottinghamians with the terribly dirty-looking dog, passed by as I crossed over the road. Seconds later as the disappeared down King Street, I heard the dog barking and growling?
I spent a few minutes just stood on that corner looking around and growing more depressed as I did so. The many shops closed, the aggressiveness of pedal cyclists, motorists, no sign of any policemen, the generally sad expressions on the peoples’ faces. The looks from the younger folk, all angst, sneering and contempt ridden. Few smiles or laughter around.
I soon came out of my depressing reverie, as I turned to walk down to the bus stop, Hilda Hip gave me a jolt and brought me out of it alright! Hehe! So painful, I got the collapsible walking stick out. I hate it when I have to use this!
The Nottingham Street Art from yesterday had been cleaned up but replaced with some more today. What was out of the picture on the right, was disgusting! I didn’t mean to miss it off, but I am glad I missed it now.
The bus was late and had nowhere to pull in to pick anyone up and had to stop in the middle of the road. I went down thinking it would pull-up there, and it went to the top and parked. By the time I got strugglingly and limping back up the hill, luckily a chap had seen me and told the driver who waited for to get there, and I made it in time. I thanked the bloke.
Enroute, two tenants got on the bus, but did not see me and settled for a gossip between themselves for a while. Ethel and Mary, it was. (I think that’s their names, I get confused you know, Haha!).
Back at the complex and Mary and I went up in the lift, we cheerio’d each other, and I carried on up the 12th storey and straight into the wet room for a wee-wee. Like Dean Martin’s song, ‘Just in time’!
Took an extra painkiller with the medications. Health Checks were done and got the dinner cooking.
Drained again now, I got the Rumpole of the Baily DVD on, and my pendulous, droopy body into the recliner with a large mug of Clementine juice to sip on.
Fell asleep of course.
When I woke, I went to check on the nosh. Cut the boiled potato in half and topped them with cheese, into the oven to brown off a bit. Stayed awake for nearly a full episode of Rumpole.
Served up the nosh, added some Vegemite and Balsamic Vinegar Sauce to the potatoes and beans. The battered sausages were too much (Hard) for me to eat with the poorly teeth, so left them. The min pork pie I’d warmed a little, and this made it eatable with little pain. Overall, I gave this one a 7.5/10 rating. Shame about the sausage.
Back to the £300 second-hand recliner and dined well.
It grew dark quickly tonight, and rain was undoubtedly on the way. The view outside was almost Dickensianesque I thought?
Hippy Hilda had eased of a lot now, and I drifted off watching the DVD and dreamt away to my hearts content. No idea what about.
Woke to go to the Porcelain Throne, much bleeding from Haemorrhoid Harold, but no soreness much.
I fell asleep on the Throne. Woke up, what I believed was a few seconds later, to find it had been two hours. Tsk!