Sunday 4th March 2018
Mongolian: 2018 оны 3 сарын 4-ний ням гарагт
0030hrs: No poriomania from the brain this morning, strangely it was concentrated on the need for me to get the laundry done. I struggled out of the £300 second-hand recliner without too much bother and got the washing bag checked, accoutrements gathered and out on the way down within minutes. Yet another, different version of Inchcock had woken today.
I nipped out of the foyer door, took this photographicalisation of the frozen snow and ice, and nipped back in sharpishly. It was lethal underfoot!
Into the laundry room and got the machine going. I’d put in the soap capsule and freshener granules first, then added the clothes.
But the capsule was in the window of the washer within seconds of it starting?
There must be some laws of logic that are beyond me, that causes this to happen? Hehe”
On the way back, I spotted this message from Jenny, in response to and about the radiators and lack of warmth reported.
I kept reading a few lines and having to go back and start again because the message got jumbled up in brain-box.
Got the Health Checks done and medications imbibed. Sys, creeping back up.
Made a start on this blog page.
Down to move the items into the dryer. Someone had had the same idea as me and had started their laundry in the other machine. How they managed to get soap bubbles all over the floor, I don’t know? Wiped the washer and got the dryer going, then back to look at the second notice that had been left for us from Jenny.
How kind of her. Bless her cotton socks.
Up and back on the computer, sorted some photographs ready to use.
Updated the health records and then made another mug of Olde English Breakfast tea, and very tasty it was too.
I stood for a few moments looking out into the morning darkness, and the brain went off on its own again. Anecdotal, and sequacious ramblings about nothing?
The time flashed by, and I soon found myself going down to collect the washing.
As I began to unload the dryer, the chap who’s washing was in and made a mess with the bubbles arrived to join me. The chap wanted to get to use the dryer I’d used while it was still warm. I had a funny turn, and Duodenal Donald kicked off at the same time. I spread my clothes on top of the machines as he shot in and filled his into the dryer. Bless him, he did ask if I was alright, pointing out I looked very poorly.
Must admit, I didn’t feel too steady at that moment. But things soon felt easier and returned to normal mode, but with Donald a lot less bothersome.
He left the laundry room to return up to his flat, and I packed the togs into the blue bag.
I took a photo of the Information Board near the elevators. Heavy Snow indicated, but I hadn’t noticed any when I nipped outside earlier.
4th March, blimey, time flies when you’re getting on a bit. Tsk!
It looked a little bleak from the kitchen window out there.
Off to the Porcelain Throne. A surprisingly comfortable session this time. Nowhere near as much cleaning up to do as there has of late.
One of my most-effective, clinically-executed and excruciating toe-stubbings of the year arrived next.
Following the advice to close all doors, and I trapped the end of the toe in the large gap at the bottom of the wet room door as I pulled it shut! The gap below the door is so large, I don’t know why I bothered closing it in the first flipping place!
It doesn’t-half let the draught in when I’m on the Throne. Brr, Tsk!
I limped back to the computer and got on with updating this diary.
Got into WordPress reader via FireFox this morning.
Started to finish off the Saturday post.
0450hrs: The Horrible Herbert from the flat above, started with some heavy bangs, about five, right above where I am on the computer. I almost got up to visit the gentleman and have words.
But, not knowing how big, violent or old he is, and my natural in-bred cowardice, prevented me taking any action. A few more knocks and bangs occasionally followed for hours, but not as loud. I’m sure that someone else nearby must have heard these bangs? And it would have been worse for them if they have good hearing and were in bed asleep!
Back to the Saturday Inchcock updating. Got it done and posted off.
Responded to the WordPress comments.
Made another brew, had a wee-wee and went of Facebook to try and catch up on the TFZer site. I think I’ve made a mistake on Marie’s birthday. What a clot!
0750hrs: Herbert noisy again.
Over the last few hours, while I’ve been on CorelDraw, the weather view from the kitchen window has been photographed a few time. It has changed considerably.
The fog seems to be settling in. Still very cold out there, though.
Made a brew of tea and back on CorelDrawing.
1025hrs: Herbert noisy yet again.
Continued with CorelDrawing.
Did the Health Checks.
1430hrs: Herbert noisy again.
Got the food prepared and served up. Two lip-smackingly tasty Frikadellens, curried baked beans with added sliced mushrooms slow-cooked with balsamic vinegar and three uneatable potato cakes. Sliced apple and lemon yoghourt and medications to follow.
A shame about the cakes.
Everything else was great tasting.
The sudden fatigue dawned, and the planned cleaning up of the kitchen was abandoned.
Got down in the £300 second-hand recliner, to watch some TV. Between channel-hopping and nodding-offs I failed to view any of the programmes throughout.
Went in to refill the mug with Orange Juice with bits, to find I’d left the hot tap running on the washing bowl. Tsk! No shower or shave tonight then, I’ll have to do it in the morning. By which time I might need a blow-torch to get the stubble off of my chin! Haha!
Back to the chair and TV. Nodded off, and woke with my right leg somehow over the arm of the recliner (I wasn’t sure how I managed to get into this position without any agony from Hippy Hilda, Arthur Itis or Hernia Harry), and inside the small rubbish bin. That I surely must have moved to allow this to happen. Of course, I automatically lifted the leg to get it out of the waste bin, knocking it over onto the floor to join the remote control and pencil and notepad, which were down there already? Then the pains started. What had I done? How did I manage it? Why did I do it? Am I going potty?
After a dysania-ridden removal of the body from the recliner, I cleaned up best I could manage, without using noisy vacuums and disturbing the neighbours this late on in the night. Knocking over the mug of orange juice as I did so.
Confused, irritated with me and feeling impuissant, incapable of restraining, controlling or understanding what the heck was happening.