Monday 4th June 2018

Maori: Rāhina 4 o Pipiri 2018

0405hrs: Woke up shivering and sweating at the same time this good morning. A little unnerving and confusing?

Out of the £300 second-hand recliner and off to get the Health Checks done.

Went to update the Excel record and the file was not to be found. Couldn’t remember the PW to sign in and change it. Ended up making a new one. More precious time lost. Grumph!

Off for a wee-wee. During which, I found I had problems with the Fungal Lesion. It has not bled so much, ever before! This will need some attention and bravery to get cleaned-up and medicated when I do my ablutions. Oy Vey!

Found the shopping list and put it in the jacket pocket so as not to forget it when I get out and about, later on. Potato slices, turnip, parsnip, pod peas (If I can find some), Springwater, milk, bread, and Ginseng, or are they called Gin Boer tablets from Wilko’s. I’ll recognise the tub when I see it.

Apart from the bleeding, the other ailments were all behaving reasonably with me.

I know have one less vinegar bottle! As I opened the cupboard door, the new bottle of Sarson’s filled vinegar fell out all of its own accords. My EQ informed me this was only the start of things to come!

Made a brew and off for a Porcelain Throne visit. Heavy duty and painful evacuation. All clean and refreshed now. Took the black bags to the rubbish chute on the way out.

Damp, clammy weather greeted me on Chestnut Walk. I crossed the road and looked back to take this image, getting all three blocks in the frame. I think the new folks will love the Extra Care Block when it is completed, and they move in.

I struggled up the gravel footpath. Anne Gyna let me know of her disapproval of the uphill limp. Haha! And it was a struggle to get my breath.

By the time I’d got to the top and turned down the hill, she had relented within a minute or so, bless her.

I hobbled onto Mansfield Road and called at the Wilko store. Got some Garlic capsules, Ginko tablets, and a lemon-scented air freshener.

Paid the lady and out to the bus stop at the top of the hill. In town, in what seemed like no time. The bus was well packed with passengers, and getting off at Victoria Shopping Centre (Mall) required a bit of nouse, to avoid getting knocked into over or injured, in the mad rush! Tsk!

I shuffled along into the Tesco shop. What a mess. Only two tills were open. Out of date stuff on sale. Empty spaces everywhere on the shelves. They had some of the oven-bottom baked cobs in, but they all had a sell-by-date for tomorrow. So, I rejected them. I ended up getting a 2-litre bottle of plain spring water (Flipping heavy that was!), Guernsey full-cream milk, Crispy seasoned potato slices, Pork knuckle, mushrooms, and some individual cakes for the Thursday nibble-box.

I joined the queue at the check-out, had a go at a crossword from the book, and paid the lady. I departed, going out onto Milton Street.

The City Centre was far busier than on my last visit, but not exactly packed. Hehe!

The plates-of-meat were starting to sting something rotten. A good job that Foot-Lady Sue will be calling to see me on Thursday.

I noticed that Clumber Street had the usual crush of Nottinghamian bodies lurking and walking about, I did not take that route and went a long way around to the City Centre. Thus, avoiding the Nottingham shoplifters, muggers, street artists, rough sleepers and several gangs of two to three youths lurking in closed shop doorways and looking up to no good.

I took these two photographicalisations and skedaddled off to the Slab Square.

That was nowhere near as busy as I had expected it to be.

Those Nottinghamians about were not looking precisely happy with life. Even the ones that had just staggered out of the pub.

I meandered down Exchange Walk, where I was taken by surprise by how busy this alleyway was with local humans.

At this point, it gleaned on me, again I have not seen a single Police Officer in town! I’ll check the photographs when I get back to see if any Officers are in them. They weren’t!

I walked down to Marks & Sparks food-hall, in search of some Oven-bottom cobs. 

I slipped the Big Issue Seller a couple of quid on the way in the store. 

They did not have any of the oven-bottoms cobs, and I was told; We do not make anything like that in this store! But this lady did not have the required quality of Sneer to be given much of an Anti-Customer rating. Not a patch on the Lidl staff. However, she did give me a genuinely great eye-movement enacted glance, that spoke volumes, and said non-verbally: “By Gawd, we get some riff-raff in here, on Mondays!”

So I gave her an 8.9/10 Anti-Customer rating, just for that. She merited it. Hehehe!

I enquired if it was possible to have one of the San Francisco Style Sourdough loaves of bread sliced, please. She forced the words out through gritted teeth; “Certainly!” And proceeded to slice the 400g costing £2 loaf for me. I thought it was raining at first, but it must have been her extruded spittle that I felt on my face and head. This, and her rendition of “Certainly!” was ‘Priceless’, and earned her an increased rating, up to 9.1/10. I’ve taken to this gal.

I paid the lady at the till and wandered back out and up to the top of Exchange Walk, and into the Slab Square. Where I took three Lumix picture, one to the left, one straight ahead and one to the right.

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Still no signs of any Police Officers anywhere!

I crossed over in front of the Council House and up Queen Street to the L9’s bus stop come terminus.

I think I recognised the shoes on the third rough sleeper I’d seen. I reckon the lad was in the doorway to the closed-down shop on the corner of Clumber Street last week. But when the Group of musicians (I used the term in its loosest possible sense), arrived and made themselves room so that they could produce the wailing and painful-to-the-earholes music they are famous for, the poor old rough sleeper picked up his belongings and moved on.

I waddled on up the hill and checked with Little Johns clock up in his dome above the Council House, what the time was.

I had about fifteen minutes before the bus was due.

I put the shopping bags down while I waited for the L9. And this nasty, uncaring Nottingham Pavement Cyclist, shot by going down the hill and weaved between the pedestrian.

Naughty Boy!

The bus arrived ten minutes late, and Margaret from the 6th floor got on at the next stop. We had a chinwagging session en route home. We hobbled along together from the flats bus stop to Woodthorpe Court.

Said our farewells in the lift when Margaret got out.

There was intense cacophonic noises of drilling and knocking coming from somewhere very close to the apartment. They had got down to Herbert above’s balcony, now. Me, next?

Off for a short-sharp painful wee-wee.

I took off some clothing and changed into my slippers, and noticed as I did that the balcony bases were all having some supports fitted to them. Mmm?

I got the fodder stored away and pondered on what to have for din-dins. I decided on the seasoned potatoes, pork pie, tomatoes, and mushrooms. Not too big a load, though. Then I can treat myself to some buttered sourdough bread with it. No guilty feeling today! So, I got the mushrooms cut-up and in the saucepan along with some balsamic and distilled vinegar in the water.

Then the computer on and started to update this twaddle to here. Checked on the Google Diary for tomorrows tasks.

Had a go on Facebook to try and catch up a bit with it.

Ended up on it for three hours, Tsk!

Did a graphic for one of the TFZer gals birthday, Joycie.

Virgin Internet was playing up again.

The Willmott Dixon lads are packing up now.

They have been so busy this afternoon

Turned off the computer and got the nosh prepared.

Suddenly feeling so tired again.

I heard an odd noise outside, and being as all the Willmott-Dixon lads had vacated the premises, I investigated.

It was the Police Helicopter, going around in circles above the flat complex. I humorously thought to myself; “Ah, that is why I have not seen a policeman in Nottingham for five days, they are all in that helicopter.” Rampant sarcasm!

The meal turned out to be one of the worst ones I’ve had a while. Well, in ages indeed.

I made the error of buying the seasoned potatoes from Tesco. Compared to the Morrison, Aldi and even Lidl ones, they were fatty, greasy and unpeeled. No wonder they were on offer. Humph!

The tomatoes were tasteless in the extreme. The mushrooms, I take all responsibility for, I got the seasoning wrongs, so badly, I should not have eaten them at all really. The expensive Sourdough bread was most disappointing and a struggle to eat now I have so many fewer teeth available. Even the fresh orange juice tasted off? The pork pies and the Guatamalian sugar-snap peas were alright, though.

Oh, by the way, I found the missing graphic I did of TFZeress Sandie. But cannot remember if I have posted this to the site, or not. Huh!

Thus, as tired as I felt, and with the innards rumbling and grumbling, sleep again came reluctantly. Until, that is, when one of my favourite Hustle episodes came on the TV.

Of course, I nodded-off then! Tsk!