Tuesday 26th June 2018
Polish: Wtorek 26 Czerwca 2018
0345hrs: The body stirred into pretend life. Gingerly, I sensed for the aches and pains. The headaches still with me, Duodenal Donald not so bad at all. Wriggled the torso, a little stiffness from Hippy Hilda, barely worth mentioning. Reflux Roger, Hernia Harry, both no hassle. Anne Gyna, another one in a good mood. I could feel Trotsky Terence brewing up. The fungal lesion I knew had been bleeding badly, as soon as I adjusted the PPs, the dried blood cracked open, the flowing began. I used some kitchen towels immediately for a quick make-do mop-up, so’s to speak. So, not too bad a morning, speaking medicalistically.
The usual post-prandial brain-shemozzle did not appear today. No wandering off of its own accord, fretting over all and sundry that it could find.
I waited for the body and mind to get into a loose synchronisation.
As soon as I actioned the limbs into movement and removed my mass from the £300 second-hand recliner, Dizzy Dennis had a go at me. He didn’t attack for long, but long enough to cause me to stub my toe against the Ottoman. Ouch! Tsk!
Into the kitchen and got the Health Checks sorted out.
Made a brew of the malty tasting Assam tea, and very tasty it was, too.
The demand for the early morning Porcelain Throne duties had not arrived yet. But I could feel the evacuation brewing up and fermenting in readiness.
I made sure that the route to the wet room has no obstacles in the way.
The blue hue of the morning was deep again, as it has been for days now.
I took this photo of the car park below the window on Chestnut Walk.
Parking spaces for cars were available. This situation will soon change when the workers arrive on site.
Made another brew, and got the computer going, fingers crossed that the Liberty Global-Virgin Internet will be working. I assume that the hot, humid weather might have something to do with the many failures of the ether connection over the past few days? All seemed okay, thankfully.
I then got this post updated to this spot and was about to save and open yesterday’s blog to update it when the grumbling innards turned into a rumbling movement. I expeditiously hurried to the Porcelain Throne post-haste. I’ve not moved so quickly for years. I made it with seconds to spare! Emphatic exclamation!
Then I went to update Monday’s post. Got it finished despite Grammarly (Don’t buy it folks!) mucking me about and not responding.
Answered a WordPress comment and then went on the Reader Section.
Got the potatoes in the slow-cooker on low setting.
Tended to the ablutions.
Popped up to see Cyndy and Eric on the way out, but they were not in. I wonder if they are on holiday?
Hobbled to the Warden’s hut, dropping off the recycling bag at the caretaker’s door on the way.
A lot more folks there this morning. No Cyndy or Eric, so I might be right about them being on vacation. Tony and his better half, Welsh Tony, Roy. Mae and Vera all chatted to, I enjoyed it.
Caught the L9 bus to town.
Had a go at the crossword en route. Not a successful effort.
“But still, yer don’t like to complain does yer).”
I dropped off at the bus a stop earlier than I usually do and had a walk up Glasshouse Street and into the Victoria Shopping Centre (Mall).
This row of retail units, all abandoned by the gone-bankrupt leaseholders and freeholders. Their livelihood shattered by the opening of the Victoria Centre shopping centre being built. Made worse by the absolute paring ban imposed on the road; to free up the queues for the underground parking spaces.
I went into the mall to get some fresh pod peas. Tried the market, they had none. Went to Tesco and they had none on sale. I got some other bits and left going out of the centre and over to the Waitrose Store. Blow-me-down, they didn’t have any either! Vey is mir!
I walked to the City entre Slab Square to take some photographicalisations.
These buildings on the left, at the bottom of Queen/King Street, I think, are the most beautifully designed ones in Nottingham. All architected by the one and only Watson Fothergill.
The chap with the guitar in the near centre of the picture, is a regular here at what we used to call, The Speakers Corner.
Singing his love of Jesus, whatever the weather.
Sometimes he has a group of Christians singing with him.
I poddled down Exchange Walk and bought some new highlighter pens.
I use them to identify different appointments in my written diary. Red for Medical, light Green for Nottingham City Homes, Dark Green for Morrisons Deliveries, etc.
Well, when I remember to put them down. Hehe!
I got the pens and returned up the Walk into the Slab Square.
They were doing some advertising work up on the front of the Council House.
This chap is one of a few who was lurking about with nothing to do near the lions, who reminded me of Beatniks to look at. Right down to the plastic slit-open shoes and not wearing socks.
I turned and photographed down the Exchange Walk. You might just be able to see the Marks & Sparks entrance sign near St Peter’s Church.
The usual gang of Virgin Media nuisances had their van all opened to con more people into using their services. I don’t think they were doing very well, all three of them looked remarkably morose.
I made my way up Queen Street to the bus stop.
The five-past-the hour L9 was late arriving, but it always at this time of day. Never been on time since I’ve been at the flats.
Something to do with shift changeover they tell me.
A lady from the flats was waiting with me, she could not be a regular user because the bu being late annoyed her.
We kept watch, and around 15 minutes past the bus arrived.
He tried to get caught up with his roster.
But getting out of town was difficult with the heavy chaotic traffic.
Once we out of the City and going through the estates, the driver did get caught up. Eat-your-heart-out Lewis Hamilton. Hehehe!.
We were soon back at the flats again.
This sign was on the poster board. Sorry, I missed the date off of the picture. Klutz!
Look at all those thick pillars and frames, all blocking out the light and view. I make it ten panes of glass that will need cleaning. Oh, how I miss the old balcony with no blockage of the vista, fresh air and no windows to clean. Sob!
I went up to the top floor and called to see if Cyndy and Eric were in. Nope. They must be on holiday.
I got the fodder I’d bought put away, all that I was not needed anyway. The mushrooms I cleaned and quartered and podded the last few of the peas. Got them in a saucepan and added some demerara sugar, onion salt and the good Balsamic Vinegar to the water.
Checked the spuds in the crock-pot. By the time I get this diary updated, I hope to get the pork in the oven, and they all come out cooked at the same time.
The noise from the drilling and hammering was far less severe today, they have moved down a floor lower now.
Got done up to here. Had a quick look at the WordPress Reader page.
Got on with the food preparation.
Pork Ribs in Hoisen flavoured sauce; apple sliced, new potatoes, Dutch tomatoes, garden peas and chestnut mushrooms cooked with balsamic vinegar and onion salt.
One of the best meals ever, with a Taste-Rating of 9.45/10.
Got myself all messed up eating it, though. Much finger-licking and sticky bits of sauce had to removed from the lips, chin, hands, fingers and the cover of the £300 second-hand recliner.
As I rose out of the chair to take the utterly empty of food, plate and tray, I knocked over the pot with the waste bones in it. Another mess on the carpet. Washed the tray and accoutrements up and got the Dyson vacuum to remove the bits from the floor carpeting. What a pickle I got myself into, a right mess.
The dust container needed emptying, and I thought I’d done the usual in pressing the release button, and the whole plastic thing came off.
Thus returning all the dirt back onto the carpet, the Ottoman and me!
My spirits, confidence and heart sank! What a Shlub!
How to reattach the tub thing back onto the machine proved my ensuing struggle to contend with. Of course, I could not find the instruction manual anywhere, and after ten minutes or so searching, I gave up.
No idea what I was doing, I continued to teach myself how not to do this task, repeatedly. I could only see the red slide-down button thing that usually opens the lid at the bottom for emptying out the dust etc.
One such attempt, it snapped back into place, and I was overjoyed – but only for about ten-seconds; When I found that a gap was at the top and the vacuum would not operate. I somehow got it off again and continued to blindly fiddle around and pray to the Gods of Dyson for inspiration. I was getting tired now, irritable with myself and on the verge of giving up altogether when it snapped into place.
This time when I tried it out, it worked. Fingers crossed it will; when I need it again. Humph!
Stil inwardly flustered and so angry with myself, I did the Health Checks, took the tables and capsule and medicated specific areas in need of the same.
Settled back in the £300 second-hand recliner and found some bits I’d missed in the farcical clean-up earlier.
I got the TV on to start watching the Argie v Nigeria match and soon fell asleep. When I woke a little later, it must have been half-time, a weatherwoman was telling me it was going to be misty in the morning, but the temperature will rise to 29°c in the Midlands tomorrow.
Considering I was half-asleep, I was well-proud of my efforts to release myself from the recliner and go to open the kitchen windows as far as they permitted me too.
I well-regretted doing this when I stubbed my toe on the way back! Klutz!
I kept nodding off frequently for varying periods, ranging from two minutes to ten minutes. On one wake-up, I learnt that Argentina and France had both gone through to the next stage of the World Cup: Greatly depressed me even more.
It was very late before I nodded off correctly.
May your good night prayers reach the Angels who will immediately come down to watch you sleep.
Good night, TTFN each.