Friday 6th December 2019

Samoan: Aso Faraile 6 Tesema 2019

23:50hrs: I stirred into life, with a clarity of mind, that I had not had for years? Almost thoughtless! I extracted my ever-morphing body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, decaying recliner, stood up, caught my balance, and wobbled off to the kitchen, with, for me, great dexterity! Amazing this is, I thought!

As I was stepping over the door divider, the right leg gave the shortest ever Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, ever. As it began, I grabbed the doorframe with he left hand, and clung on to the four-pronged walking stick with the right, ready to drop it if needed… and the leg started to flail, and it clouted against the corner of the cupboard, making me jump a little, and it was all over? I would think it lasted about ten-seconds or so, now everything is back to normal; apart from the bruise on my leg of course, Haha! Now that was something new, but I was well pleased with it being so short a dance, all the same. I fear I may have sworn out loud when the leg got caught on the cupboard corner. Oh dear! Sorry and my apologies to any of my neighbours who might have heard it!

On a cheerier note, when I got the medications and medicines out to take, I was over-the-moon when I found I had not missed imbibing the evening dosages! At last, I’d gorrit right for once! Somewhat of a victory there for me, after going for about three or four nights and forgetting to take them every night! Smug-Mode-Adopted!

I moved the handwashing onto the airers, and off to have a wee-wee. This one was a catch-me-out mode of CMOUSTSTBOWV (Catching-Me-Out-Unwilling-Slow-To-Start-Then-Blasting-Out-With-Venom) style. You see how lucky I am really, any average person, with an uncancerous bladder, would miss all this variety and unexpectedness in urinational activities. Hehehe! 

I got on with updating the Thursday post, which, although a longish one, was not handicapped too much by the Neurotransmitter failing finger-ends this morning. I imagine the peripheral neuropathy was still planning on the way to get the involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing going again. Haha! I got it finished though, witin a few hours and had posted it off.

I sent some pictures to Pinterest. Went on the TFZer Facebooking, then went on the WordPress Reader.

The ablutions went well. With only four dropsies. Oh yes! Razor (2), Carbolic soap and the toothbrush!

The pins (legs) seemed to have lost the fluid retention, and the signs of the Clopidogrel effects were far less!

I dressed in warm clothing and took the black bags to the waste-chute, returned to the flat and collected the large recycling bag, and took it down with me on the way out.

As I entered the Winwood Court through-passage, the lovely warmth greeted me. I took this shop as I got through the first swipe door. The drizzle was still falling lightly. I proceeded in an easterly direction (Haha!), and with no one in the ILC’s Holding and Interview room, I went to have a go at the crossword in the big Winwood Socialisational room. I greeted John ‘Herbert’ as I passed him, and ensconced myself on a snug corner and got the crossword book out. I was sat in a high chair, more comfortable to get out of you know! Neighbour young, fit, rich, good-looking Malcolm (I hate him, Hehehe!) spoke, I gave him his little Christmas treat, Jack Daniels & Coke. Many folks walked by me, but being in the corner, they did not spot me or hear my ‘Good Morning’s’. At least I hope it was that, and not my B.O. Haha!

After almost total failure with the crosswording, I rose up, and hobbled through the second link passage to Winchester Court and joined other residents, waiting in the dry of the lobby, for the bus. I spoke greetings a few. Eddie or Louie answered me, he was looking a little better this morning. I went out to the bus stop, which was overflowing with Winwoodonians. Cindy, Angela, Penny, Mary and many others were in the shelter, and when the bus arrived, other tenants flowed from the foyer out into the drizzle to catch the bus. A lady let me on ahead of her with my three-wheeler. Mercy beaucoup. So I managed to get a side-saddle seat. I screwed myself up in the corner, for I knew the battle to remain seated and not get tipped out of the chair, or trod on by the passing passengers getting on and off the bus, was ahead. Safet-First!

Another not too successful bash at the crossword en route, and we were soon in town. I dropped off at the bottom of Goosegate. I wanted to look for murals to photograph, I knew some were, at least used to be in the Lace Market area.

Up the hill, I wobbled and found myself passing the shop that used to be a Tesco that I worked at in 1962ish. The memories flooded back, it was most likely the happiest times for me, working and finding romance there. It had been a Sex Shop for a long time, but I noticed it was now a Charity shop.

I could not help but walk in and have a look. Seeing nothing around me much, for I was living what was there so long ago, the memories flowed. A young Marrianne Faithful look-a-like volunteer assistant, (yes, the memories were dominant now), asked me if I was alright. I must have looked either a little pasty or in a dream world state. (Well, yes, I was having a few moments in a reminiscing and regretting mode). I mentioned my past experiences and this being a Tesco store. The eyes raise up, she needed to say no more. I told my farewells and continued up Goosegate to Stoney Street, and down in search of some Street Art to picture. I took this photo of the what was, Price Properties building, with the artwork on the gable end.

As I started to walk along towards where I thought the murals were, I spotted some pretend policemen putting up tape, signs and cones. People were being turned back at the end of the road. Oh, dear, another stabbing or shooting perhaps? So, I turned around to go back to Goosegate. I spotted this Magpie on a mould covered window ledge. The sad bit, bing the sign relating the For Sale of the freehold property. I checked on the web later, out of no [particular interest, on the price. But it just said Sale By Tender. Bet the Magpie’s not bothered either! Hehehe!

I called at the Oriental Mart store on Heathcoat Street, to get some more of the Sukang Puti vinegar and some of the salted peanut brittle nibbles. I found the peanuts quickly and spent a long time searching for the vinegar. After much wandering around and having to of different ways to get through. Because of a lack of room to get the walker through with me, I found a similar flavouring. Chinese Distilled vinegar, it had the same high-acidity of 5% as the Indonesian one does, so I bought it. And that was that, all my shopping for the day, two items! No cause for any smugness, though. Cause I’ve got an Ocado delivery coming on Sunday morning. With Thompson and Glengettie Gold teabags, I never want to run out of them again! And some green tomatoes as a treat for myself for Christmas!

Up over the hill and down Pelham Street towards Clumber Street and the Slab Square. I noticed a distinct atmosphere from the Nottinghamians today. Finding the right words for it is not easy. An antsiness, nervousness, a sense that anything could explode or erupt at any time? And the Christmas rides, stalls and food outlets on the fayre, were not doing much trade at all, despite it being lunchtime.

Looking up one of the almost hidden alleyways of shops on Pelham Street, there was not s soul in sight! The leaseholders had done there best to drum up some trade, with the illegal, bards and advertising. Well, something else, a different danger from Pavement Cyclists, for sight-challenged people to walk into. I took three photographs of Clumber Street as I stopped at the junction.

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Down Long Row to the Slab Square.

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I limped up King Street on to Parliament Street. Where I took this selection of photos, that give a decent representation of what I found.

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Then, down Queen Street, to the L9 bus stop.

The bus arrived on time, which caught a couple of regular riders out, who must have been anticipating the usual late arrival of the swap-over bus, and had to get a move on to catch it.

Eddie got on at the next stop, and I delved into the crossword book puzzles (Why do I bother!) It felt like just minutes later, I looked up, and the bus was pulling into the Winwood flats complex. There is, of course, the possibility that I had fallen to sleep en route. Humph!

I asked Eddie if I could carry his bag up to his flat for him, I could see it was heavy for him. But he said not.

I limped through the link-corridor to the large Social area in Winwood Court, and to the ILC Warden’s holding and interrogation office. Handed out some nibbles and ha a mini-natter, then onwards through the Windwood to Woodthorpe Court link-corridor. Into the cold lift lobby, and up to the flat.

Where I got the lamb chops in the oven and got the handwashing (only a long sleeve shirt and pair of bamboo socks) done, wrung and hung. The finger-end neurotransmitters failed to recognise touch or send the message to the brain again. However, at least they let me get the washing done before kicking-off! I was concerned about some uncomfortable tremblings in the right leg knee, which I thought might be the start of some interest from the Peripheral Neuralgia, in performing one of its Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance routines. But I was so wrong, it was as good as gold all night!

The intercom lit up and buzzed, it was a young lady from Carrington pharmacy, with this month’s Prescriptions for me. Unfortunately, as I was about to press the door release button, the neurotransmitters died a death once more, and I ended up pressing repeatedly, and this turned everything off on the control panel! Grumph! I got the walking stick and got down as fast as I could to be in time to catch her. Off course, both lifts were on the ground floor, so that made me slower than ever. Arthur Itis, who had been so good to me all day, started to play-up as well. I got down in a bit of a panic, and Cindy told me that Jenny had taken the medication off of the girl and will bring them to the flat for me. So good to me that Jenny is.

So, I got back to the flat… to find that the lamb chops had burnt in the oven! After having such a good day, this knocked me back a bit! I turned off the stove and checked out the meat. It was not a good sight. But, I decided to risk them anyway. I put them in the saucepan with the tomatoes and passata to keep warm, and the doorbell chimed.

It was Jenny, with the medications for me, bless her cotton socks. She brought them into the kitchen for me. I had a job handing her some wine as her Christmas treat, and thanked her profusely. I do appreciate all she does for me, she’s saved my bacon a few times, I can tell yer! ♥

I got to sorting meal again. Got it in the bowl on the tray with the dessert and bread ready.

Got the pots washed-up, and settled to dine. To dine, did I say? Have you seen the chop on top of the dish? It was 80% bone! Boy was I annoyed! Still, I sucked what few bits of meat there was off of the bone. And yet, the packet before, had some lovely lamb in it? Far too much bread was eaten with soaking up the tomatoes and juice, to help stave off the hunger that lingered after the meal. Thank You, Mr Iceland!

I got settled down in the rickety recliner, and within minutes I thought I smelt something burning? I went on a search around

Aha! I’d left the oven on. I also noticed the state of the pins when I took this photographicalisation. I could tell that Arthur Itis was not in a good mood, too.

I turned off the oven and got back down in hopes of some sleep. And Colin Cramps visited me, legs but mainly the left one, it was far much worse. Perhaps with the Peripheral neuralgia down my right side since the stroke, the damaged neurotransmitters may not be sending the pain messages to the brain? Suits me! Hehehe! Enough agony from the left leg and foot, thank you.

No sleep seemed imminent, so I put on another Bond film, ‘Thunderball’, and soon to sleep I did fall, I wasn’t bothered at all. Haha!