Thursday 18th January 2018
Amharic: ሐሙስ 18 ጃንዋሪ 2018
0150hrs: I gave up on getting any sleep, Again! The moaning noisy howling winds being the cause of this last night, they are still blasting away at the apartments now.
How the poor tenants with decent hearing are managing to cope with this awful scary wet weather, I don’t know. I bet I hear some tales at the Social Hour later. This along with the hassle of the radiator installation horrors and the mess cannot be doing us old fogies any good health or temperament-wise. I bet Jenny will have some words of wisdom for us at the Social. She can often use a couple of words that make such commonsense it stuns me, and makes me realise what a plonka really I am.
Now its started to rain with the gales. Tsk!
Off into the kitchen to put the kettle on and take the photo above. Then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Oh, dear! Haemorrhoid Harold and Little inchy both bleeding somewhat profusely. At first, I was concerned at how long it took Little Inchy’s lesion to stop bleeding, but when I remembered the INR Warfarin level being so high, all concerns evanesced. I started to read the last chapter of the Lenigrad book. I wish every warmonger and their families would peruse this, horrifying true tale of human endeavour.
Cleaned up and back to the kitchen. I made a brew in the last remaining China mug I have left. (After breaking the best one last night, Humph!) Took the medications and did the Health Checks. The readings seemed okay to me.
To the computer with my tasty drink of Extra-strong English Breakfast tea and studied the scribbled reminder notes I’d recorded during last nights farcical Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops. And updated Wednesday’s diary.
This took me about two hours or so.
The winds not yielding at all. I’m getting fed-up of their noise after suffering them for over ten-hours now.
I closed the kitchen door. To keep the winds that are blowing in through the cracks in the wall, the air vents and the cracked window frame, from making the rest of the flat so cold. Still, we have all been instructed to keep that door closed as part of the fire regulation instructions. I kept it blocked open though, naughty me. I feared I would not be able to hear or smell anything burning on the stove from the other room with the door closed. That is my only claim in my defence, your Honour. Hehe! Shutting it did lessen the noise slightly, though.
Got the post finished and posted off. Started on this one up to here… and realised that the wind was no longer howling? Just blowing strongly.
I checked the WordPress comments and replied.
I nipped (Well, hobbled) into the kitchen to make another brew, and the room was like a walk-in ice-box! The winds I’d thought had decreased had not. It’s just that they were not getting through while the door was closed too. As I was making the tea, the winds whipping in from outside swung the kitchen door shut with an almighty bang!
0455hrs: Boy, am I going to be popular with the neighbours now!
Created the High Winds header for this post.
Then went on WordPress Reader. Next, I checked the Emails. None from the Prime Minister or Jeremy Corbyn, but Asda and Iceland sent me one. Hehe!
Went to make another brew, and the wind had definitely dropped now – but it was freezing in there. I turned up the radiator and put the oven on.
0635hrs: Back to the computer and perused the local news. Here are some of the headlines. Not very encouraging. Tsk!
I spent the next two-and-a-half hours getting graphics suitable to use in creating page-top headers. Worth the effort, but now I have to find time to get them done.
Took a photographicalisation from the main room window of the picturesque skyline.
Ablutions tended to, much less bleeding now.
Rubbish bags were taken to the chute, and off to the Winwood Tenants Social Hour Meeting.
Not so many made it today. I presume the poor things like most of us, got no sleep again with the howling winds.
Jenny was the Oberleutnantess for the meeting, very busy gal. The shed soon filled-up with more residents. It was another highly vocal session. Much laughter, singing and, as Jenny put in so well, much loud raucous noise. That the two new chap tenants were surprised at, I think. Hehe! I love to hear them laughing, shouting, insulting each other and singing. So full of life!
BJ was in much better health this week and chirpier. Helped me with the crosswords. Clever chap BJ is. I asked Jenny if she would keep my nibble-box there ready for next week and she kindly obliged. Then out to the bus stop and a chinwag with some smoker tenants out waiting for the bus.
The winds had dropped altogether by the time I arrived in Arnold and exited the bus into Sainsbury’s. Where I took a leisurely limp around, ending up buying: Apache Potatoes, Jersey milk, Marmite Cheese portions, Surimi sticks, Marmite Crisps, Melton pork pie, Anchor butter, flatbread and nibbles.
Out of the tore and had a hobble to the Asda store on Front Street, and got some potato chips and Curly Cheese nibbles.
I got the shakes at the check-out, which was a bit embarrassing. But I managed with the one steady hand. By now, I had two bags full of fodder to carry, but this helped keep the left-hand still. By the time I’d got to the bus stop, all was well again with the shakes.
Had a friendly natter with a chap while waiting. Who lives on the 6th floor, never met the bloke before, but he’s been living in Woodthorpe Court for six years he said. His brother lives on the 14th floor. I knew him, he was the man who was a sniper in Korea.
When we dropped off on Chestnut Walk, a crowd of other tenants go on the bus. and this time, I got a response or two, to my cheery “Hello, hello, are you all alright today!” Like from Roy: “What’s it got to do with you?”, and Lillie: “Gerrout of the way!” Hehehe!
Having gone two nights of sleeplessness, I felt well drained when I got back in the flat. I had some of the Apache potatoes, curly fries, potato chips, Marmite and Stilton cheese, pork pie, beetroot, tomatoes and sliced apple, followed by a lemon mousse.
Rate this plateful as a 9.1/10.
I felt beyond doing anything but try to get some sleep. To ensure this, I put the TV on, this usually does the trick, and it did. When the first set of commercials that came on, off I went. But not for long. Anne Gyna started giving me some uncomfortableness and the stabbing pains that woke me up. After this, it took me a long time to get off again, as the brain started its wanderings and diagnosing everything, questioning things, analysing, jumping from one topic to another.
Then the mobile phone rang on the Ottoman. As usual, by the time I’d gained enough nouse and found it, the ringing stopped. As I was fumbling to see who had called, the landline chirped up. I battled the £300 second-hand recliner and escaped its clutches and got to the landline in time. T’was Sister Jane. She did not sound very well, a nasty cold at least. I must send her an Email in the morning, as I was not entirely compos-mentis at the time. I did scribble down on the pad, ‘Pat, Cyril Road, Pam flat 80. Know each other.’
Back in the recliner, I managed to nod-off and woke up minutes later with a warm wet sensation from the lower regions. Off to the throne room, Little Inchy had and was, bleeding again. Luckily I had on the protection pants; this saved an awful lot of time cleaning up afterwards and avoided my having to throw away another pair of my knickers. Hahaha! Cleaned-up the room and me, packed the pants sealed them in a plastic bag, and used a separate disposal bag for them. Stopped the bleeding eventually. I will be so glad when I get the new cream from the clinic. This Daktacort is not so useful at all when the lesion bleeds heavily. Messy job.
Now there was no chance of any sleep. Laying there fretting, and feeling sorry for myself was no good. So I got up.