Inchcock – Sun 2 Dec 2018: I hate Weekends! Just thought I’d mention it, like. Tsk!

ZZZZa19

Sunday 2nd December 2018

Welsh: Dydd Sul 2 Rhagfyr 2018

23:25hrs: The brain woke up at the same time as my body this morning (rare! Hehe!) The mind was free of the usual fearful, apprehensive and vacillating thought-storm, for a change, no barrage from the encephalon today. But I did have a headache.

As I lay there, thinking ‘By gum, it feels all warm and snug this morning in here’, I moved the head and felt a bit of pain from the back of it? I had a feel around and found a tiny lump or bruise. But cannot recall anything happening that might have caused it? Well, at least it explains my headache. Hehe! Then again, this is not surprising, with my having had the Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun visits last night.

I unhitched my hog-like, outsize, paunchy-stomached body free of the £300 second-hand recliner, and made my way to the Porcelain Throne. Another firm-flatulent evacuation. During which, I spotted just three of the EIBWBBBs (Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles). I cleaned up and antisepticated the hands and contact points.

Then, adopted a Weevil-Seek and Destroy mode with the bug killer, in all of the rooms.

I’m pleased to report, that when I collected them all up, they counted to only nine, all dead EIBWBBBs in total! I reckon that mayhaps, the colder wet weather was helping keep these alien invaders down?

I went to the kitchen to get the Health Checks done. I turned off the light to take this photograph out of the window of the rainy start to the day.

Unfortunately, for me, this is when I spotted the light on in the stove and realised I had left the oven on all night!  What a nebbish!

After taking the picture, and having the brainwave to use it as backing for my Thought of The Day; I left a finger in between the frame and the window casing as I closed it. I also believe I am a mashugana! I silently muttered something naughty under my breath!

Taking the medications, I added a stool softener capsule and Codeine Phosphate to the morning doses. The painkiller, to counter my headache, finger pain. Now Duodenal Donald is starting to kick in too. So, I had a decent guzzle of the ineffective, weak, not fit for purpose cheaper substitute for Aludrox medicine, named Peptac. Humph! At least Shaking Shaun is giving me a break. Odd moments of instability indicated that Dizzy Dennis seems to be lingering in the background, preparing an attack, though.

Golly-gosh, the Sys, Dia and pulse readings were a little high?

I got on with updating the Saturday post. But did not get far…

Back on again… Tsk!

Finished the Saturday blog at last. 0500hrs!

Went on YouTube and dunked some biscuits.

Started this post off. 05:55hrs: Got up to here, and decided to get the laundry sorted out and done. Down and deposited the washing in the machine and back up to the apartment.

Hello, another Porcelain Throne visit called for?

Watched some YouTube car crash videos, then back down to swap the clothes to the drier.

I took the recycling bag down with me to drop outside near the caretaker’s door with the others there already.

Down and out, The scaffolding is disappearing from around the foyer area outside, now. I put the big white bag of recyclable materials down and added my mint sauce jar and chestnut jar in the glass recycling bin.

They looked out-of-place mixed in with the other tenants, Chardonnay, lager, wine, Gin, whiskey, rum, and champagne bottles, etc.

When I emptied the drum, I found a tea-towel at the bottom that was not mine. Some poor soul had missed it earlier when taking their stuff out. I put it on the window ledge in clear view, so if they realise and come to have a look, it will be easy for them to spot it.

I moved the things to the dryer, the filter was cleaned out, well done to whoever did it.

Two residents came in when I went out to take this photo on the left, of the rain puddles outside.

They did not speak, nor did I because as they came into view, I had my camera up to my eye! I got a look of suspicious, surprise and superiority. (Work out what a look like this looks like if you can. Hehehe!)

Back again to the flat, and updated this blog, until it was time to go back to collect the clothing. 

Argh! A third visit to the Throne! Not good this! And a heavy duty one as well. A smidge of blood in there, too. Feeling uncomfortable in the lower regions now! Humph!

The alarm I set chimed out, and down to the laundry room again.

I went to get one of the toothbrushes to clean the filter with, and they were gone? Used my fingers. Got the togs out and cleaned the drum with the antiseptic wipes I keep in the laundry bag.

Up to number 72 and got the clothing in the airing cupboard. Made-up the freshener and pod pots with new supplies and put back in the bag.

0900hrs: On the Inchcock Today blog amending.

1250hrs: Finished the blog updating. Many (SSWWs in between)

Weary and tired, I thought I’d have a sit down in the £300 second-hand recliner with a drink of spring water and lemon cordial, and watch a DVD. I soon fell asleep.

I woke to see the landline phone ringing light flashing. Escaping the grip of the recliner in time before it stopped, it was Sister Jane who rang.

Unfortunately, as I was chatting, I realised that the fungal lesion had been bleeding and dried, and moving out of the chair had cracked things and started the flow of blood again! Huh! Lucky or what? Still, I chatted away with Jane as the blood flowed down my leg, and enjoyed it. Not the blood running down, I mean the Sister Jane chinwagging)

Off to the wet room to clean up and medicate things.

Got the meal sorted and served up. I reckon if it weren’t for the Morrison’s anaemic, flavourless, plastic-like beef slices, this meal would have been one of the best ever this year, tastewise. The bean flavouring came out perfect for once, balsamic vinegar, half-a-spoon of demerara sugar, mustard and oregano. The potato slices cooked just how I like ’em. The yellow toms were tasty, too. 9/10 Taste Rating!

Health Checks were done, and I took this photo from the kitchen window as the sun suddenly came out.

The twinkle reflections were not planned or wanted, but it came out looking a bit different anyway.

I watched some TV (all of five minutes or thereabouts, Hehe!), before nodding off into dreamland.

TTFNski each.

By Inchie

73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!

4 comments

  1. Timothy Price – I specialize in daily art, documentary and promotional photography. If you have a special event such as a musical production, play, concert, etc. or have a product or fashion that you need photographed, or you are a performer, musician and artist in need of promotional photos please email me or call.
    Timothy Price says:

    Another great Morning Thoughts. Your dead weevils and panorama inspired a poemicalization:

    Take nine dead weevils
    Ready them to throw
    Photographicalization them
    So everyone will know
    Make a panoramacalization
    Not expecting to see the worst
    But damn those weevils’ spirits
    Are showing as starbursts

    Speaking of spirits, with the number of liquor bottles in the bin, it makes one wonder how weevil spirits can survive without being consumed by inebriated Nottinghamers. Speaking of weevil spirits, maybe you need to have your flat exorcised? You should have snapped the “look of suspicious, surprise and superiority”. That’s their problem if they walk into your photographicalization space. Great looking dinner.

    1. Inchie – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
      Inchcock says:

      Love the poem, Tim. I’d like to put it in my diary and on Facebook. I’ve written your ode on the picture.
      Speaking Weevilistically? Hahaha!
      Alcoholics Apartments, might be a better name for the flats? Hehe!
      The bean nosh was great tasting, mate, you are right!
      TTFN

      1. Timothy Price – I specialize in daily art, documentary and promotional photography. If you have a special event such as a musical production, play, concert, etc. or have a product or fashion that you need photographed, or you are a performer, musician and artist in need of promotional photos please email me or call.
        Timothy Price says:

        You can use the poem however you want to.

      2. Inchie – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
        Inchcock says:

        Fank you.

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