Monday 26th November 2018
Mongolian: 2018 оны 11-р сарын 26-ны Даваа гарагт
02:30hrs: I awoke with a start. The third day in a row that I could recall bits of a dream I’d been having. Although far less than the previous two. This one involved me with a lamb chop on a plate, carrying it as I ran around a bombed-out building… but that’s all I remember. No idea what or why I was doing this. A good job I don’t suffer from oneirophobia. Hey-Ho!
Despite very little sleep again, I felt pretty alert and was soon hauling my portly, pudgy, rotund, stout, hog-like stomach and torso free of the second-hand recliner. Physically, things seemed remarkably easy as I did this. However, an uncomfortable feeling of insecurity, uncertainty perhaps dejection, unnerved and baulked me as I got to my feet. This sentiment came on quickly and seemed to have dug in? Depression on the way, again? Please not!
As I plodded on auto-pilot to the kitchen to do the Health Checks, take the medications and make a brew of tea, the anapeiratic pain in the fingers was far worse than usual. Too much typing on the keyboard, I suppose.
I did the checks and updated the record on Excel.
I got a summoning from the innards to the Porcelain Throne, arrived. I responded.
I could see only one EIBWBBB (Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetle) in the wet room.
Once again, the evacuation was hefty and solid. No haemorrhaging, though.
By the time I’d finished the Porcelain Throne duties, several more of the EIBWBBBs had appeared!
After a good spraying of each room with the bug killer, and a bit of a coughing session, and an antiseptic washing of the hands, I got around to making the brew of tea.
Back to the computer and got the depressing Sunday Inchcock today completed. But it was damned hard work!
What with the farcical Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet going a snails-pace, and the fingers and hands suffering from the Colin Cramps, my evincibleness and Milksop-mode over whether I should stop and get the ablutions done early and hope that the service improves by the time I get back, I was all confused and vacillant. But if I have an early shower, the noise would be too much and disturb my neighbours. What to do?
I pressed on and got the post finished and posted off.
Made a start on this blog, got up to here, and decided (Yes, a decision was made, hard to believe for me too. Hehehe!). I will get the teggies, shave, etc. done, then when 08:00hrs I will take a shower… or should I? Single-mindedness, doggedness, strength-of-mind, firmness of purpose and making decisions, is not my forte, is it? Sad!
Off to the wet room anyway, to do the ablutions. Feeling refreshed now, I made up three bags of rubbish and took them to the waste chute. One big bag of recyclables to go down with me when I go out.
Shaking Shaun now departed of his own accord. Hearing aids in, the correct glasses were on my nose, all wrapped up with gloves on and the brolly in the bag with the other stuff, off to the lift I went.
The memory was uncertain of whether or not I had left the taps running or stove on, so back to the apartment to check. All okay, off again and down in the lift. Out and took the recycling down in the caretaker’s room and put it in a big bin.
On Chestnut Walk, I took this picture of the New Extra Care Unit for new tenants and the Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Wardens Deana and Julie, on the left. Winchester Court on the right of the photo. The Willmott-Dixon crew seem to be catching up quickly on the upgrading for us on this block.
I turned back and took this shadowed shot of my beloved Woodthorpe Court flats building.
Onward I plodded, in the decent weather, in fact, great weather for November in this once Great Britain… Oh, I can’t say that now can I? This chicken-livered multi-cultural, given away our fishing rights. That once had a police force… sorry, now having a tiny understaffed Police Service, Ex-European Associated but still under their control, country!
Now, what was it I was going to say… erm… Oh yes, I hobbled down Winchester Street Hill to Mansfield Road, and turned right and called in the Continental Food Store to try and get a small sliced loaf, but they had no white or brown in stock, so I got the only option, one of them with the seeds on and in it, a Granary is it? Paid the extortionate £1.49 and departed.
Up the road and over the hill down towards Carrington and the Sherrington Park Medical Practise, and entered, reporting to the receptionist.
I explained that I had sent an email requesting an appointment for my Warfrin Blood Test for the 4th December as early as possible. I’d called in today, while I was passing to find out what time it has been made for. There was a delay while both receptionists searched for my details and that of the appointment. The lady told me that the date had been made for tomorrow, the 27th November. I showed her the Anticoagulation Card I’d received with the 4th December on it. Another break while they whispered to each other. The outcome was I now had an appointment for Tuesday 4th December at… wait for it… 07:22hrs. Nothing like being precise! Hehehe! I thanked her and left some nibbles and was off out again.
As I was passing the Grosvenor, a well-built arrogant young git of a Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist came at me going in the opposite direction.
I was about to take a picture of the old Grosvenor, so I still had the camera in my hand, so I whipped around and snapped his photograph of the unthinking, scared to ride on the road yobbo, in his fur-lined hoodie. While muttering a few oaths and curses under my breath.
Up to the traffic lights and down Mansfield Road, on this occasion, I veered left down Huntingdon Street.
At this stage, I got a bit of a shock. I thought I saw a Nottingham policeman walking on the opposite side of the street… but no panic, I spotted that it was only a Traffic Warden. In fact, I didn’t see one throughout the day, but nothing unusual in that nowadays.
I think he nipped into the launderette, they serve hot drinks in there.
I slowed down around here, by gum, the plates-of-meat were starting to sting something awful now.
Such almost beautiful weather still, no wind, or precipitation. Although it had apparently been raining earlier.
Apart from the pained feet, I was enjoying this hobble. Got to the Aldi store and went in and had a plod around. I came out with little potatoes, cream doughnuts for the Wardens Monday treat to welcome them back to work. Some Wiltshire Ham and Ham trimmings. And, a pack of four toilet rolls.
Paid my dues, thanked the lady and out and over the road to the Victoria Shopping Centre (Mall).
I took this photographicalisation of the Nottingham City Homes apartments that are above the building. I bet they get a tremendously good view from their flat windows. I’d have a photographers orgasm if I lived there. Hahaha!
As I arrived at the back entrance to the mall, on Glasshouse Street, the sun came out facing me, I tried a shot hoping it might come out like a ‘Moody’ one. Not too bad, was it?
I went in and made my way to the VHS store, determined to find out if they had any DVD copies of either The Negotiator or John Q in stock. Every time I neared a member of staff, they seemed to rush off and evade me?
I gave up, left and called at the Tesco Metro in search of some Polish Pork Knuckle for Christmas. I asked an assistant if they had any as I could not find them if they did. My heart sank, as she gave me uncaring sneer and told me they could not get any more now! I managed to avoid bursting into tears!
Anyone with the intentions of lambasting Tesco over any issues or complaints they have, I can supply you with artwork or graphics to use free of charge! Haha!
I paid for my Sopocka Pork Loin, Jersey full cream milk, Anchor Spreadable butter and balsamic vinegar.
Out of the centre and along Milton Street and over Upper Parliament Street and down and though Clumber Street.
I took this photograph on Milton Street. I thought it showed the mix of life in Nottingham: A bus driver waiting to change or start his shift. Coffee Addicts with there £4 Specials. The fallen leaves to show the time of year. An unstolen pushbike. Street sleepers, and scrounging beggars. A lady having bought her Christmas presents. Sorry, there are no policemen in it, but this says a lot. Hehe!
I crossed over to Milton Street, but not like so many other Nottinghamians, I waited for the green walk sign to illuminate first.
I’m afraid most of the citizens had frazzled and drawn expressions on their faces as I hobbled down and through the crowds, and on to Long Row.
A few more folks on this stretch of road.
Some of the stalls set up to rob us this year were selling the same bob-caps (Well, they looked like they were to me) that the Poundland shop sells for a quid, at, as the poster says, “Only £5!”
Some of these stalls were just right for Jenny to have a rummage around, I think. Posh trinkets, out of the ordinary stuff.
Over on the Slab Square, the traders were not doing very well. But, then again, they had many more hours for the Nottinghamians to drag themselves out of bed, or from collecting their benefits to spend. Hahaha! Only joking folks!
The hobble was a decent one, and I was pleased with how it had gone overall.
I made my way to Queen Street to catch the L9 bus home. I was delighted when first Cyndy, then Shirley followed by Caroline joined me at the bus stop. Muchly nattering a laughing and gossiping to cheer me up, and it did, too!
Back at the flats, I nipped in to donate the Monday cream cakes. A natter, well not much of one, but they all help. Haha!
Gossip with some of the gals in the foyer, Angela and Roy, Mo, Brenda. Up to the flat and got the fodder stored away. Did the Health Checks and medications were taken.
Got the computer on to update this blog. Seasoned some baked beans, checked the mushrooms in the crockpot.
Got on with this post again. Three hours later I’d got up to here with it.
Went on the TFZ Facebooking to catch up. I kept checking on the beans and mushrooms regularly. Spent 90 minutes on it.
Health Checks again.
Got the nosh sorted. Seasoned baked beans (demerara sugar, mustard, BBQ seasoning, curry powder and balsamic vinegar), which came out superb flavour-wise. The crock-pot cooked mushrooms. Some of the off-cuts of ham, all consumed with some of the fresh bread. Followed by a Limoncello dessert. Which despite its ingredients: Lemon Coulis (21%) [Lemon Juice (36%), Sugar, Water, Candied Lemon Zest (10%) [Lemon Zest, Glucose-Fructose Syrup, Sugar, Lemon Juice], Cornflour, Gelling Agent (Pectin), Preservative (Potassium Sorbate), Flavourings, Lemon Juice from Concentrate, Safflower Extract] , Glucose Syrup , Water , Sponge Biscuits (12%) [Pasteurised Free Range Whole Egg, Wheat Flour, Sugar, Dextrose, Emulsifier (Mono- and Diglycerides of Fatty Acids), Glucose-Fructose Syrup, Raising Agents (Diphosphates, Sodium Carbonates)] , Whipping Cream (from Milk) (9.1%) , Limoncello Liqueur (8.5%) , Mascarpone Cheese (from Milk) (5.3%) , Skimmed Milk Powder, Coconut Oil, Sugar, Marsala Wine, Pasteurised Free Range Egg Yolk, Citrus Fibre, Thickener (Carrageenan), Emulsifier (Mono- and Diglycerides of Fatty Acids), Flavourings, Colour (Carotenes), It tastes great! And an apple. I degusted this meal. A Flavour-Rating of 9.25/10 for this phagomaniac-satisfying effort.
Went to wash the pots up, and the view from the window was worth recording I thought.
I took another zoomed in shot of the skyline.
Natures beauty. If any aliens do arrive, you can’t blame them for wanting to stay, can you? Well, apart from the existence of the tellurian mendaciloquence proffering humankind of course. I think our particular traits would be unacceptable to any alien race. Humans inhumanity, self-indulgence, aggressiveness, grasping, murderous, cupidinous, materialistic, self-centred, nihilism, violent actions, mercenary and predatory characteristics show that any visitors would not be welcomed with open-arms exactly. The Governments would probably hide them away somewhere in the hopes of making themselves some money out of… I’m getting carried away again here. Sorry folks.
Got settled later than normal, and turned the TV on.