Monday 11th June 2018

Swedish: Torsdagen Den 14 Juni 2018

0355hrs: Morosely, unexcitedly and dejectedly, I carried out the morning’s expergefaction. Then, nodded off again. Ten minutes or so later, I tried again to find and install some reason for getting up, albeit begrudgingly. My mood of bleakness and curmudgeonliness took some shaking off. They still linger on now. A most uncomfortable sensation, primarily as I cannot work out why I suddenly feel this way.

I got out of the £300 second-hand recliner in a sort of auto-mode and made my way to the Porcelain Throne. I fear that Trotsky Terence may be trying to make a return. Tsk!

Titivated-up and into the kitchen to make a brew and get the Health Checks done. Collated last weeks at the same time, and the medications were taken.

The computer turned on and yesterday’s miserable tale of noise and depression (I hate weekends and knowing that Herbert above is going to be clattering and banging away as usual), was finalised and sent off to WordPress.

Posted some graphics to Pinterest and then got the ablutions tended to. With little enthusiasm or zest. Oh, I must remember to fetch the antacid medicine later on. I forgot!

Ooh, er… back to the Porcelain Throne. Know I know for sure now that Trotsky Terence is visiting me! Dare I go out today? I need to after two days stuck indoors listening to Herbert’s cacophony symphony from above. But should I risk it? I will!

0800hrs: Tended to the much-needed ablutions. Then sorted the black bags and took them to the rubbish chute; which had now been replaced with a new one, that is far shallower and shorter than the old one.  I did not want to force the larger bags through the opening and slid, and cause a possible blockage. So I returned to the apartment and rebagged the waste into smaller containers, then returned to the chute, with six meagerer bags and they went through with no bother.

Made a little list of things required: Fresh pod garden peas, orange juice and oven-bottom-muffins, to get today.

Took this photograph through the narrow gap allowed me, in the kitchen window, of an aircrafts chemtrail.

Got the other things ready and sorted into my shopping bag (I thought).

Made my way down the lift and out through the lobby. Took some pictures of the building progress of the flats.

 

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The poor weeds and overgrown grass had been cut and left for us all to slip over on around the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Stabsgefreiteress Wardens Temporary HQ, WC, Willmott-Dixon workers breakfast and tea-break room, Sarcasm & Insult distribution area, Tenants Socialisationing Area, Telling Inchcock off Zone, Crockery and pottery to be stolen from, and residents room area and doorways.

Twas here that I realised I had left the hearing aids in the flat. What a shlepper! I went back and collected them and returned to the shed. Only one resident from Winchester Street, who was having a talk with a Nottingham City Homes representative, was in the hut. So I left and joined the ganglet of Winwood Heights tenants already at the bus stop. Much nattering and laughter emanating.

I caught the L9 bus and sat with Cyndy, and we gossiped pleasurably away en route into town.

Went to Tesco’s in the Vic Centre (Mall) and chatted with Vera some of the ways. She was going for her blood test.

In Tesco, I ended up buying a packet of oven-bottom-muffins, some Kettle thingies for a treat for Jenny & Frank, and surprisingly, a box of four fresh cream chocolate eclairs found their way into my bag. Cough, cough. Hehe! Silly getting four really, but that is how they sell them, and they were on offer, too. I can share two of them with someone at the flats.

Paid the lady, and left. Onto Milton Street, and thought that the Waitrose mini store might have some fresh garden peas on sale, so called in there. They did not have any, sadly. But I came out some Irish Potatoe Farls and a jar of crisp and tangy cornichons.

Checked the time for catching the bus back, and I had twenty minutes or so before the L9 was due. So I took a walk through and around the Slab Square area, taking these pictures.

There were on this little hobble:

Five doorway sleepers – Two Big Issue Sellers, Eight Nottingham Pavement Cyclist, spotted.

No Policemen anywhere, of course.

 

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Walked up Queen Street to the bus stop. 

To be joined by fellow tenants, Bert and Cyndy. 

Had a chinwag with them on the bus, Cyndy sat behind me keeping an eye on me. Hehehe!

The gal does maketh an excellent photograph methinks.

She was kind enough to take two of the cakes off of me. Thus assuaging my guilt at buying them. Bless her cotton socks!

Back at the flats, Cyndy and I walked to Woodthorpe Court and parted as I got out of the lift, throwing our fond farewells to each other.

Got in and put the things away. About to go for a wee-wee, and Sister Jane rang. She kindly said she would ring back later. Which she did. She had ascertained some news about brother Peter in Hong Kong. Fingers crossed, he might ring her back later on Tuesday, I think. We lost the connection, and I rang back… after another short-sharp wee-wee. Tsk!

Much noise all about from every direction it seemed.

Then the Willmott Dixon lads did some work outside the flat.

I prepared the simple meal. Oven-bottom-muffins with canned pork knuckle, potato farls, gherkins, Cox’s apple and tomatoes.

This went down very well indeed. A worthy taste rating of 9.1/10 given. Hehe!

Forgetting to clean the pots and leaving them on the Ottoman, Naughty boy!, I started the task of updating the Excel word diary/thesaurus.

This proved to be a mistake, although, for once, not one of mine.

Concentration was impossible with the Willmott-Dixon lads busy working awake, up and down on the hoists and the necessary hubub of noise, and the Mystery Noise from wherever it emanates coming and going for the rest of the day. Well, until 2000hrs anyway.

Just before the chaps had finished for the day and departed, I took some photographs of their outside-hoist and a look at what they had been doing on the balcony bases.

It seems it was my turn to have the wooden supports fitted twixt my balcony base.

And, the Noise-Junky lover, Big John who unfortunately for peace and quite loving me, lives in the flat above. Continues with his banging, grinding and grating noises as he hobbies away making his steam engines or whatever.

When the workers had all departed, I tried to get some rest, but the noise from above prevented this. So I did the Health Checks and took the medications, then put the TV on.

There was a programme I wanted to stay up to watch at 2200hrs on channel 87 I think, about a murder in Nottingham. But I didn’t make it and fell asleep.