Sunday 15th September 2019
Italian: Domenica 15 Settembre 2019
03:10hrs: I stirred into a replica of real life, and the need for a wee-wee (As is usual recently), arrived. I escaped the clutches of the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged while he was flat-sitting, when I was in hospital, as he fitted new CCTC cameras, and searched for my valuables, which he found and regretlessly took, (I still haven’t got them back yet, four-months later), £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and ridiculously, relentlessly rotting-away recliner.
I Took the few dodgy steps to the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) and had a rather pathetic, weak, approximate quantity, no more than four-fluid-ounces of an INHBT (I-needn’t-have-bothered-trickling) wee-wee. The stomach was still feeling tight, with the odd escapage of wind, amidst the rumblings from within. It’s been about 42-hours since any Throne evacuations. Oh dear!
I got a potato in the crock-pot for me later, one in the saucepan for Josie, and got some peas podded.
The potato in the saucepan was soon losing its skin, which was a good sign, so I lowered the heat on it to a minimum level the stove would let me.
A lot of the peas still had the fur inside the pods, so I had to take care and avoid using them. So many peas shot off all over the place, I think I spent more time searching for them and retrieving the few that managed to find. Bit of a farce, the podding was this morning!
I took a picture through the open thick-framed, light and view-blocking kitchen window. That turned out to be one of my worst ever. I’ve no idea what I did wrong? Unknowingly the shaking hand, I assume, might have affected things? I moved the handwashing onto the airer, and had yet another INHBT mode wee-wee!
I spotted one of the escapee peas on the stove as I was leaving to get the computer on to do the updating, but where the other estimated eleven peas had gone… Well?
I got my nose-to-the-grindstone and got on with the updating. With my late awakening, due to not being able to get to sleep last night, and the Peripheral Neuropathy affected fingers losing some degree of sensitivity when they contacted anything hard, making typing such an ever-mistake making process. It took me a good few hours to get the task completed! Luckily, the Axonotmesis affected leg, did not do any of its imitations of the Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dancing! Although the shoulder did go into its ‘Jij-jig’ routine a few times.
By the time I’d got it all finished and posted off, I felt like it ought to be time to get my head down. Humph! I went to make a brew, before starting on creating the graphics for today’s blog.
It was getting lighter out. But, the moon was still showing occasionally through the clouds.
I got the drink and began on CorelDrawing.
I had nearly got them graphic almost all done; the top Brexit Humour, the thought of the day and the Days dedicated to picture, and I realised that I had not started any prep work for Josie’s cheesy potato meal. I got on with getting the large potato from the saucepan, and into the mixing bowl. Cut it up into small pieces and removed the larger pieces of skin. Added the shredded Leicester cheese to the spuds. Then some butter, onion salt and malt vinegar. I must have spent about half-an-hour mashing it all up together. The hands didn’t play up much, I’m glad to say. Got shaped and into the oven. Back to the computer to make a start on this post.
Sister Jane rang, and we had a natter that I enjoyed. I thought about asking for my valuables back. But the only time I mentioned it before, Pete said they were too heavy to carry. Presumably, they were the same weight when he took them? Haha! He is a rascal!
I stopped computing and got the plate laid out, ready for the presentation display for Josie to enjoy. I got the beetroot, gherkins and sliced part of the Italian-Bull tomato in the slicer, and them onto her plate with the cutlery wrapped in a kitchen towel. I bet she wakes me again by returning them late? Still, she does it every Sunday, so I’ll just have t put up with it Hehehe!
I got the cheesy potatoes out of the oven, all nicely crispified now. Added the fresh pod peas and some mousse to the plate and tray then got it on the wheeled server and was delivered to Josie’s door, ringing the bells at 11:58hrs, The potatoes were still hot. I’m never far off of the 12:00hrs target-time. She was a good time in answering. When she arrived, she said she was on the phone. She liked the look of the nosh, though. And that cheered me up. I wished her happy nibbling and returned to the flat.
I got the black bags sorted, and took them with me to the chute, on my way to the Winwood Court rooftop to have a nosey around and take some pictures.
I poddled along the link-passage corridor, to the Winwood Court elevator. I didn’t see a living soul on the way. I got up to the beautiful, warm, cosy, well set-up leisure lounge they have. No one was in there. So I had a mini-hobble about with the three-wheeler guide and took a few photographicalisations.
I spent about twenty-minutes pottering about. I’d hoped someone would arrive, for me to have a natter too. But no! The felt on the roof was still leaking
I popped into the big lounge downstairs. Again, there was no one free for a gossip!
As I started to walk back through the link-passage, four blokes came in the foyer, and went to the new laundry room? On a Sunday? They were not wearing overalls! Mmm? They looked responsible types. But so did Lord Lucan!
I made my way to the Woodthorpe end on the passage. And turned round to see if I could see the suspicious ganglet of men, but I couldn’t. Incertitude swelled up inside of me.
I wished I’d taken a photo of them now!
I got back up to the apartment and got back on the computer.
It was nearly 15:00hrs, and I would have liked to have got stripped off, and get the handwashing done, and then my head down. But Josie has not returned the things yet. She may or may not return them today, but it is usually late, for me, when she does. It doesn’t matter, but I dare not go to sleep to be woken up in the nude again.
So, I had to force myself to do some more graphics and templates, even though I wasn’t up to at this time of day for me. Oh, I am awkward!
But the weary tiredness, and as I got more so, the hands started playing up, and I even had a mini Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dance from the right leg!
I gave up. Graphics still not even started, let alone done!
I got my meal sorted out. The tomato-slicer was not quite big enough to cut the last chunk of the Bull Tomato, so I… ‘Carefully’ used the steak knife, to slice it. It looked very odd inside, with very little juice. But the flavour was spot on!
The beetroots, so-called, Baxter’s Baby Beetroots, were extremely large and so hard! But, all the rest was fine and tasty. Enough to give it a Flavour-Rating of 7.9/10.
18:00hrs: I was just finishing it off, and the door-chimes rang-out! Josie was returning the things from her nosh. She said she’d enjoyed it, and gave me a chocolate eclair. Bless her! At least with my staying up late, for once I wasn’t woken up. Haha!
I got the pots washed, and settled down in the £300, c1968 rickety-recliner, the one broken by Brother-inLaw Pete when he was burgling the flat when I was in the Stroke ward in the hospital.
All I wanted was some sleep. It took such a long time coming again! “Sleep, sweet Morpheus, sleep…”