Inchcock Today – Tuesday 14th November 2017: Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops flowed today… poor old chap!

Tuesday 14th November 2017

Latin: November 14th Martis MMXVII

0150hrs: Woke with a new ailment, backache. Humph! I gave this one the name of Backache Bill (Not very imaginative I know, but something else might come to mind later – suggestions welcome, folks). It feels to me like it might be lung related, cause when I pass wind the lower centre of the back really hurts. I expect it is due to a cold inside if that’s the right word.

Had to extricate my lumbering mass from the £300 second-hand recliner and make my way to the Porcelain Throne. A very messy session that required some cleaning up afterwards again.

Washed and into the kitchen to take the medications and do the Health Checks. Took both an extra ADRC capsule and Codeine.

The HC readings had changed a lot since yesterdays AM check?

I got the computer on and went into the Emails to see if the surgery had sent the results and new INR level reading to me. I foolishly thought that after going in and explaining the problems I’m having with not getting these in time, and often not getting them at all to the receptionist, that they would be there. She did promise to sort this out for me – But no! Nowt found in the inbox.

This situation and let-down certainly put me in a state of dysphoria. Saturnine in the extreme. If the medical professionals are not interested, it’s worrying.

So I will have to pull the tooth myself? Or see if I can get some Nepenthe from somewhere? Oh, no, that was a fictional medicine for sorrow, literally an anti-depressant – a “drug of forgetfulness in Homer’s Odyssey. Shame I can’t get some. Hehehe!

Checked all the Emails. Settled and did some WordPress reading.

Went on to Facebooking. Computer froze so gave up and restarted again. Huh!

CorelDraw next.

Took a few hours, but I got this TFZer Group graphicalisation finished.

As a sort of Welcome to new member  K.

To hopefully make him feel at home, I included a Hooch-Still for him and the gals in his yard, and with plenty of the gorgeous TFZer ladies lurking with him. Got it posted off. (I think I did, I must check later).

Ablutions enjoyed, and as I was getting the togs on, I heard the whining and grating of the platform outside going down. The workmen had started. I rushed to get the camera in the hopes of catching their faces but was too late. Got the kitchen one then hobbled into the front room and grabbed these as it disappeared.

They had started cutting off the metal railings on the balconies.

Odd, taking this photograph and seeing the bannisters gone.

Got the bin bags sorted and took all three with me, dropping them down the waste chute as I set off. I’d remembered to take the bag of Iceland veg chips with me, intending to put it in the freezer at the Obergruppenfurheresses temporary shed.

As I left the building, I looked up and noticed that the platform was back on my 12th floor again.

Very smart, how they work out how to use the scaffolding to enable them to get up and down to do their tasks. One job, I don’t think would appeal to me much. Hehe!

Down to the bus stop and a right gang of pensioners, there was accumulated, nattering, moaning, laughing and picking fault. The main moans this morning I heard, were about the noise when the builders do the torchwork in getting rid of the bars, and an overnight clanging racket lots of folks are putting up with 24/7 since their job has been done?

Got the bus and dropped off the bus in town.

A sad view on Upper Parliament Street of a Nottingham Pavement Cyclist passing the long-abandoned retail unit.

It was a bit of a shock to have this chap overtake me as I plodded along on my way to the Pound World, to see if they had any chocolate nougat in.

It was a bit of a shock to have this chap overtake me as I plodded along.

I guess the bad back, Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna are winning the battle with me for controlling my rate-of-knots? Hehe!

When I got to the Poundland store, a street-sleeper was packing his things up, and I was surprised to see that he was putting three mobile phones into one of his bags?

It makes me wonder if giving them money is a good idea? Although handing cash to the Big Issue Sellers is something I still do, rightly or wrongly.

I made my way to the Audio place in search of some wax-filters and took the route through the shopping arcade underneath the Council House. These retail units have access and ingress doors inside this hallway and outside on the roads, cleverly designed. But, as you can see, they are not very popular. Several shops were empty. The smallest one, I looked up on the web in the morning when I was updating this post:

Cor blimey and flippin’ ‘eck! Rent £100.000! Then they will have staff costs, heating and power, Poll-tax, Equipment, technology, business rates, tax, utilities, VAT, National Insurance, property insurance… on and on the costs must be horrific! Poor sods, no wonder, so many had closed-down and given up.

I walked through to the other end of Exchange Arcade and out onto South Parade and along down passing the Slab Square.

The feet were beginning to give me some grief now.

The entertainment and foreign food stalls were making progress in being constructed. I approached a little closer to take some photographs close-up, and this Herbert of a Nottingham Pavement Cyclist decided as there the pavement was full of bothersome pedestrians, he’d ride along the tram tracks in the wrong direction! Tsk!

I walked straight passed the Audio place and called in the other Poundland Store. I never did remember about the filters until I was on the bus going home – Whatta Plonka!

This shop didn’t have any of the chocolate nougats in either. But I did spend a bit of dosh here. Four tins of Nougat with nuts and fruit (Raffle Prizes for the Tenants Hour), Chocolate Coins (To hand out and get a laugh with), tinned mushy peas, Typhoo Extra Strong Tea Bags (£2) x2, Chocolate Almonds, tinned Steak & Kidney, soups and bottle of sauce. By golly, the bag was heavy! Hehe!

I departed, again oblivious of any thoughts of why I had gone into town to get the hearing aid filters and made my way to the bus stop on Queen Street.

I had to stop for a break at the bottom of the road. Between the bag handle halting the blood flow, and Arthur Itis. I was not in excellent condition. A couple of minutes and I was recharged and carried on up the hill.

The Nottingham Street Art, as I limped up towards the L9 stop, apparently had not been cleaned for a while, Tsk!

The sign on the shelter advertising Smokey Bacon Quesadilla (I must look this word up) for sale at Taco-Bell was actually appealed to me.

I’d put my bag down as you can see in the photograph, while I took this picture. When I made it, for a split second ‘Panic Stations!’ I bent to pick up the bag, and of course, it wasn’t there, I thought I’d lost it! Getting old is no picnic. Hahaha!

The bus arrived, and I got on, sat down and pondered on how I really felt. No doubt the feet needed the foot lady’s visit, the legs and knees not so kind, Anne Gyna bothersome when I hobbled uphill, the tooth is getting more and more hassling and frustrating too. At least Dizzy Dennis had given me a miss today, and that is a positive to me. Overall, things were not too bad really, and I cheered a little as the bus moved off.

We picked up at least six other tenants at various bus stops on the way, not one of them responded to my greetings as they passed my seat? Odd that I thought had I done something wrong? I fell asleep somewhere along the route and was woken up at the flats bus stop, by a stranger sat behind me. I thanked her and fumbled my way off the bus.

I was the last to alight, behind all the other tenants who had already got off without seeing or waking me up and had walked off up Chestnut Way.

Then I got moaned at by the tenants for keeping them waiting to get on the bus! Hehehe!

When I got into the flats, and to the lift lobby, I found a multitude of unmerry tenants, grumbling like the experts they are, desperately waiting for a lift to arrive.

Apparently, the workmen were again taking up and bringing down the radiators they were fitting. I assumed!

I could sense the wet and warm sensation from the read end, supplied no doubt by Haemorrhoid Harold, so I knew I was bleeding. This decided me not to wait. Because even if a lift did come, it would take several trips to transport those already waiting to their floors, and the workmen would still be moving stuff up and down. Before my turn would arrive, I might have been in trouble with the bleeding?

I decided to walk up the stairs for 12 storeys, although I knew this would be hard work and painful, the rear-end needed attention urgently.

Anne Gyna and Arthur Itis joined forces in a protest at my doing this. (Hehe!) Many stops made for recovery sessions en route. On the 11th floor, I could see through the door to the floor’s lobby, many heaters stuck half-way into the lift.

The relief at getting in and onto the Porcelain Throne was significant and welcome. Although assuaged by the amount blood lost through Haemorrhoid Harold. The limbs (Thighs, knees and back mainly) were painful, more than for a long time, then again having just climbed up all those stairs, I expected this.

A long, tiresome and embarrassing cleaning up and medicating session followed.

Extra Had to change clothes, so I got into the nightwear then. Freshened the room and me up, and out of the wet room and reached the front door closed and locked it. In my rush to get to stem the flow of blood, I’d left it open. I’ve never lost so much in one go before and at first, this alarmed me a little. After I’d recognised that obviously, the reason for this was the foolish but essential at the time endeavour, to climb up so many steps that had caused it, I settled more easily.

Feeling well shattered, but knowing it could have been worse, I turned my limited-attentions to the fodder.

Eventually got it all served up, it looked edible enough to me.

So I got the tray out of the oven and into the washing-up bowl in the sink to soak while I masticated this appealing looking plate of food.

At this stage, I feel I must hand out a warning to you all.

“Here it is…”

When removing hot potato farls covered in sharp cheddar cheese from the oven, it is advisable not to stick your finger in the melted cheese.

Just thought I’d mention it, like. Tsk!

The cheese and farls gave the teeth some bother, but it was all tasty!

Got settled after doing the pots without any further Whoopsedangleplops. And was glad when I nodded off quickly… Only to get awoken by the same idiot of a Pizza delivery bloke, again telling me he was outside with me Pizza? I said to him yet again that I am not the person who ordered a Pizza, and am getting pissed off with repeatedly being woken up! Can you please delete this number from your mobile, because its the wrong #*>?ing one!

Ten minutes later the phone chirped into life again. I ignored it.

Five minutes later it rang once more! I ignored it.

Five minutes after that it chirruped de novo.

This time, I’d got my paddy-up. I fought valiantly and painfully to get my blubber-ridden body out of the £300 second-hand recliner to answer the call… stubbed my toe on the Ottoman en route and he’d rang off as I lifted the handpiece! This activity had caused Harold’s Haemorrhoids to bleed, thus joining in with Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna and the stubbed toe in making it a damned miserable night, cause I could not get back to sleep after cleaning and medicating. And the thighs and feet were now hurting when I was just laying doing nothing… well, apart from irritating Duodenal Donald with my inner frustrations getting him giving me more stick than he has for months!

And also, as well as that, my EQ was telling me of something else was coming my way that would be so annoying.

Oh dear…

4 thoughts on “Inchcock Today – Tuesday 14th November 2017: Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops flowed today… poor old chap!

  1. They don’t call it “sharp cheddar” for nothing! Quesadillas are a staple around our house. They are simply a flour tortilla folder over cheese and green chiles and melted. They are a bit like a soft taco. Your dangerous food looked decent enough. That’s a merry looking bunch of grumpy Nottinghamers waiting for the lift. I saw you all were supposed to get really cold weather. Did the cold get down to you? The temperature here in the high desert this morning is -3.9º C. It’s 11.1º C in the house this morning.

    • The gorgeous cheesy farls did my teeth no good – or maybe they did? The loose one is looser and the poorly one is more painful. Hehe! Ah-well.
      I thought about ordering one of the Quesadillas, cause they looked so good on the poster. But at £3.95 they would not deliver for any order under £10, or a charge of £5 delivery would be made. So, I wont bother now.
      Oh, boy are you right about Pensioner Gang, Tim. I ber that some moans and grumps are expressed at the Social Hour this morning. Hehe!
      It is 8° C outside at the moment which is surprisingly high to me. In the kitchen it is 10° C. The forecast on the web has now changed? Plenty of mist about in the mornings.
      -3.9 in your desert? Can sand freeze? Haha!
      TTFN and take care.

      • It gets much colder than that as we get into winter. Sand does freeze — hard as a rock. Actually the freeze thaw has a lot to do with our rocks turning to sand.

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