Thursday 30th January 2020
Zulu: ULwesine 30 KuJanuwari 2020
01:15hrs: I woke up, feeling so tired still, why, I know not. But there you go! I got my cumbersome short-plump, wobbly body up, caught my balance, and without to much bother, as well! The absence of Dizzy Dennis almost made me give out a “Yee-Haa!” No wee-wee, no Porcelain Throne needs either!
Off to the kitchen, where I got the kettle on. The innards began to suddenly and importunately rumble and grumble. I hastened to the wet room and got seated on the Porcelain Throne. It was a reluctant evacuation, but nae bother, the crossword book was utilised, the pain was of a minimum, and it was not messy. Mmm, disconcerting!
Not only, but as well as and besides them, the pins (legs) were looking even better. On the verge of normalisticalistion! Well, apart from what I think might be one of the coming and going blotches, due to the Clopidogrel Clive. Even, Varicose-Veins-Victor had calmed down! I think I’ll upgrade my previous exclamation from disconcerting to worrying!
Had I woken up in another world? I clambered out of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner so easily! No dizzies, an almost routine Throne visit? Plus, Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna were giving me no hassle at all. Little-Inchies Fungal Lesion and Harolds Haemorrhoids were not bleeding! Worrying, in a way! Most incomprehensible! But, let’s give them time.
I put some leeks and mushrooms in the small crock-pot, seasoned with onion salt. Then made another mug of tea, and belatedly took the medications.
I got on the computer to update the diary, for I knew it was going to be a long haul, with my going out yesterday and the bank meeting to add. Going to be another long one, but I hope interesting for once.
Then… Eurgh!
The going with the updating was riddled with contretemps, ever correcting. It took hours before the internet settled into its usual slow-mode status. That, I could live with.
After a couple of hours, I went to check on the potatoes and leeks that were in the new cooker. The lid was rattling with the pressure, so I turned it down to the low setting. I poked a potato with a plastic fork, and it burst open! Blimey, that cooked quick! So I took out the spuds and used them for nibbles during the morning. I think with them being very tiny in size, is the cause of this contretemps?
Mr Fries internet was getting more reliable. But for God sakes don’t let him know, the price will go up again!
07:26hrs: 7.5 hours after starting, I finally got the post finished. Fed-up? Me!
I emailed the link. Then went on Pinterest and posted some pictures. Then onto the WordPress reader. Next, the TFZer Facebooking.
At 0945hrs, I started this blog off.
I kept checking on the crock-pot, there were not many leeks left, most had turned to liquid! Humph! A right mess from the slow-cooker fiasco in the kitchen needed sorting out. Oh dearie me, yes! Decision time again! I didn’t want to turn off the computer and go off itself again. But I wanted to clear the mess up. But I had to get the ablutions done first, so I looked semi-respectable if I met anyone. The black bags needed sorting and getting rid off. The kitchen floor needed a good mopping up. So much to get done… but excuses, I can’t see myself feeling as fit as this again. The head was spinning a bit now, with unbelievability.
So, I closed all the programs apart from the internet itself. WordPress, Coreldraw, Hippo, and Word. And put the machine in sleep mode. Then got the ablutions done, I need the Porcelain Throne again anyway. The ablutionalisationing session went well. Any more good luck, and I may have another stroke or heart attack, this is all unnatural). Fair enough, the dropsies were frequent, there was no bleeding, dizzies, toe-stubbing, or knocking over anything. The sock-glide battle as an injury-less draw. There were a few mini-knicks when shaving, though. To be expected.
Got the togs to wear ready, and visited the wet room. I should be back in a few hours, providing I don’t do anything silly, like sit down and fall asleep (which is already tempting me, so as I can avoid the cleaning and mopping up. Haha!), or snuff-it. TTFN.
(Well, I didn’t make it back until I woke up Friday at 01:00hrs. Humph!)
Having been refreshed,
I got myself dressed.
Work needed doing, there’s no rest,
Sorted the filled box’s, tied em with string,
Sweep the kitchen the next thing,
Then mopping to do, Arthur Itis started to sting,
Left it, for now, good thinking!
So, I stacked the box’s, on the trolley thing,
Out to the lobby, the lift did arrive and ping,
I got into the cage, no box’s tipping,
To the lobby, and to the caretaker’s den,
I wouldn’t like to have to do this again!
Robert, (or is it Steven? Oh, the brain!) helped me unload the things and we had a little natter. I told him of my crock-pot disasters, and he told me of some he’s had. Nice to talk!
Back up to the flat, and tackled the mopping up of the filthy kitchen floor. I had to change the water in the bucket twice!
I clouted my ankle a few times, and at one point, all the signs of the peripheral neuropathy right-leg were building up for a Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dance showed. The almost intangible tremors around the right knee and the hip shakes are usually reliable indicators. But not this time, thankfully. Which with me mopping, a dance now, could have been dangerous. Another spot of good luck for me. This out of the ordinary, idiosyncratic run of uncustomarily good fortune, to be honest, scares the living daylights out of me. It’s just doesn’t happen to me?
But the floor didn’t look bad after I’d got it done. It was worth annoying Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna a bit. (Liar!)
While the floor dried, I went down to the Hauptsturmfuhreresses Holding Cell and Office, with the last of the Easter treats. They were busy, and my EQ told me I was annoying them. But, pole-dancer and Warden Deana, did pose for me to take a snap of her. I thought she looked just like my Sister Jane did, fifty years ago! A quick natter and I returned to the flat.
I went outside on Chestnut Walk, back to the flat, so I could take some photographs of the buildings. Not received any for a while now, with all those days being stuck indoors over the month. Thanks mainly to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for being late with my prescriptions and leaving me without painkillers and beta-blockers for five, no, six days! Just thought I’d mention it! I wonder if the next months will arrive on time? The Medicine Management lady, Leoni, who I complained to, told me to ring them when I get to my last weeks blister-pack and remind them. Very helpful, professional and useful! Especially as she knows I am almost deaf! I wandered-off the plot there, sorry.
As I ambled along in the cold sunshine, I took these pictures along the way.
I got back to the apartment and remembered to take the original crock-pot to the waste-chute room, as told to by Stephen (or Robert?) earlier, for him to kindly collect and dispose of for me.
Weariness and fatigue dawned early again. I locked the flat door for once so that I would not be disturbed by anyone coming in, for I felt the need for sleep to be needed, more than usual.
I got the meal prepared and served up. Those wicked, unhealthy Frikadellens, done it the oven, and caramelised onion chutney slathered liberally on top of them (Evil-chuckle), garden peas, much-overcooked but still tasty leeks, a sliced black Natoori tomato, and four mushrooms done with balsamic vinegar, and a few mini new potatoes. With a luxurious lemon-curd yoghourt for afters, with a bottle of fresh orange juice! Bu gum, I relished that! Flavour rating of 9/10 given! But, I must resist the temptation to have Frikadellens again for a few months, cause despite the fantastic taste, they are really not healthy at all!
I got the pots washed, thought about doing the handwashing, but didn’t, and got my head down, turning the telly on. I had one programme I wanted to watch, then I could nod-off.
But while watching the alien documentary, I sensed a flashing light coming from the hallway? I whipped off the headphones, and could hear a squeaking, whiny noise?
As I fought my way out of the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, and made way, hobblingly and hanging onto the walking stick, to the hall. I still managed to give myself a sickeningly-sharp toe-stubbing against the Ottoman! I found the smoke alarm going off on the kitchen ceiling. There was a recorded message, that was the squeaking, whiny noise I heard I assumed. It repeated a few time before stopping. I caught a few words of the recording, ‘No action is needed’, I hope. So, I reckon it was an alarm test. Indeed, no smoke or fire around anyway.
I got back to the recliner, limping a little more painfully now the middle toe had had another bashing from the stubbing!
This palaver made getting to sleep again, harder. Humph!
I felt almost semi-contented as booted up the computer. It didn’t last for much longer! First, I realised that the right-hand fingers Neurotransmitter nerves were bad, and knew this would mean difficulties in typing. But before I got a chance to find out properly, the famously pathetic and unreliable Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, let me down again! 
I struggled on with the blogging update. Which was one of the easiest for months, as I was stuck-indoors again yesterday, so only a few photographs to sort out, plus, I’d stayed up later than usual, so it was virtually finished when I started it – Does that make sense? Anyway, it kept going off so often, and I had to just press on until it returned on its own. What a palava! But I did get it finished and posted off, hours after starting it, though!
I went on the TFZer Facebooking, that was a bind too. Thanks to Mr ‘I don’t-know-what-I’m-doing, but still, I get paid a fortune’ So I’m not bothered, Fries! Swine! Mafia minded bully and incompetent, mob-backed merchant! Probably not true, but how else does such an arrogant, unskilled pillock like that, keep his job?
I made a start on this blog but gave up. Too much like hard-work, thanks, Mr Fries! The farcical Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet came last month to do some upgrading, that made things worse than before. They are coming again on Feb 6th to try again. Phwert! 
the stand-up ablutionalisationing done. 
When I got to the Winwood Heights Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Wardens and Lap-Top Dancers Interrogation Office, but no one answers my knock. 
I thanked her and made my way out onto Mansfield Road, nonplussed, foggier-headed, and somewhat more perplexed than I did when I entered the bank. 
I had another bash at the crosswording en route. I got off on Front Street, right near the Asda store, and went in to have a look at their slow cookers on offer. I managed to avoid the dangerously driven mobility scooters and got into the shop. They had a range of small crock-pots on sale. 
From which of course, making my mind up which one to buy, took a lengthy spell of ditherisationing. I ended up selecting the smallest on offer. Only £14, 1.5L size. They had several 1.8L ones that were even cheaper to buy. But this smaller one will suit my needs, I hope, anyway.
Now, with the two bags on the walker-guide, one with the cooker in it, I poddled unsteadily out onto Front Street. The alarm went off as I left the store through the tag recognisers, from the cooker most likely. But no one came to check on me. It seemed eerily free of cyclists, pedestrians, beggars, and mobility scooters out there!
I made my way to the bus stop, and Mary was sat sitting there in the shelter. There was still ten-minutes or so until the bus was due. We had a good nattering session, during which Mary showed an interest in having the gigantic slow-cooker. Well, being as no one had let me know it the Winwood Court kitchen could use it, I said she could have it. 
I put the fodder away. Then got the new pot set-up next to the other semi-new biggerer one. 
I got the pots and mushrooms out of the larger crock-pot and made up the evenings meal. Pork pie meat, a Natoora black Iberico tomato, beetroot, garden peas, chestnut mushrooms, new potatoes and a sliced Cox’s apple. A lemon curd yoghourt and drink of fresh orange juice with it. Rated at 8.2/10 for flavour. Even the tomatoes, which were meaty tasting, although they were Spanish. I enjoyed that!
Where a shock awaited me when I went to make a brew. I thought I’d fill-up the Glengettie tea-bag pot. After a long search, there was none to be found! So I did an Ocado order for some more. I got some Thompsons Punjana as well. 
I tended to the ablutions. Only a couple of dropsies this time. (Razor (2), flannel) It went well overall, and the Sock Glide was tamed!
But the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, was really crap today! Even for them! 
Sunshine, in the form of Nurse Christina, bucked me up as she arrived to take my blood. She let me take her photo, in the balcony, bless her. I wish I’d got a printer now! Humph! 
I came back to life. (Well, that was a bonus to start with, Hehehe!) Felt weary, looked at the clock, which indicated to me that it was 00:25hrs. The cal to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and almost started on its own, a bit of urgent buttock-clenching, helped me get out of the £300 second-hand recliner and to the wet room, barely in time. 
They are to be working again on the upgrading of the service, on Thursday 7th February. Well, last month when they did some work, they left the service more unreliable than it was before! Hey-Ho! 
I set about my self-given tasks. 
back in its box. There were foam sheets etc. that would not go back in, as I expected. But it is now transportable, at least. I felt rather semi-pleased with myself! Smug-Mode-Adopted! 
I g
ot the newest slow-cooker out of its box using the steak-knife. Good job I was in the kitchen at the time, it gave me quick access to the cold-water tap, Germolene and finger-plasters from the medical drawer nearby. Humph! 
The ablutions had to be done, and with rushing now, the risk of an Accifauxpa was high, I kept telling myself not to take risks. (Do I listen?) 
Back to the flat, I got readied and made my way down, though the link-passage, and to the ILC’s Interrogation and Body-Searching Office in Winwood Court. Hehehe! 
I dropped of the bus near the old Palligh de Dance, and walked over the two sets of pelican crossing lights needed, to get to Glasshouse Street. 
I came out of the Poundland shop and decided I had the time to walk along, taking some more photographicalisations. This was taken down Clumber Street, I was getting some rum looks from the Nottinghamians, that indicated their disapproval of my actions. Oh, dear! 
So I took another, zoomed-in this time. 
I poddled along, quietly contented in my own fashion. I even tried to whistle, but the hole left by my last tooth abstraction made it hard work. Which shows how long it is since I decided to whistle blithely! Sad innit!
Other buses needing access had joined the queue by the time I got to the corner. Where it became plain what the problem was, the dreaded roadworks! 
At the top of Queen Street, the view with the sky perfect for photographicalisationing was an amazingly good opportunity for a moody photo to be taken. Thankfully it came out decent enough to use. I checked on the camera screen and spotted another traffic problem. 
Surprisingly, the L9 bus was on time? (Beats me how he did it, brilliant!) I was the sole passenger until two bus stops later. No Winwoodonians were picked up en route, but I got out the crossword book. I got a couple of old clues as well. Swank-Mode-Engaged!
I didn’t meet anyone on the trip through the Winchester link-passage, the New Winwood Social room, the Winwood Foyer, the Woodthorpe court link-passage, and into Woodthorpee’s lift foyer. 
Warmed the garden peas, got two cheesy cobs buttered, sliced an apple, put some mini pork and pickle pies cut in half on the plate. Got down and tucked into the meal, but I’d again overdone it. 
Bloody as well, but far less messy. You can’t win ’em all, Haha! 
As I left to go to the kitchen, the shaking started from the neurotransmitter transmissions failing. At least as of now, this is very often for a short time only. When I got in, I decided to get the handwashing done first thing. Thus giving me more time if needed, when getting Josies Sunday meal prepared in time. 
I got the meal all prepped, and onto the serving trolley. 
I went to make a brew and had to turn on the light in the kitchen. It had suddenly gone so dark, and the rain was starting to fall. I suppose this might mean the cooker is coming later than forecast. 
23:55hrs: Another flipping disturbed sleep. The constant dreams! It peeves me so that I cannot recall much of them. Other than they all involved my working days happenings, cock-ups, mistakes etc. were relived, but with a different outcome… I think. When I had to get up (yet again) to go for a wee-wee, (They were all of the LHNPOS (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Pain-Or-Sensation) variety, I decided I might as well stay up. 
I got the stick and went to the kitchen, to take the medications and make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. 
I began this post off. Then went to open the Crock-pot box. It was ginormous! Far too big for me to use. A family size one, for sure. 
I got the nosh finished, served up, and tucked into. The black bean sauce weakened the chilli flavour, which suited me down to the ground. I blame Morrison’s, for substituting my curry beans with the Chilli ones! 
After eating, I decided I had better get the washing up done. Maybe to assuage my guilt with the Crock-Pot farce? When the pot-cleaning was done, I lifted the bowl to tip out the water so as to wipe it dry… Within seconds I had, soapy wet jammies and socks, the cabinets had running suds down them, the floor was awash, and all due to an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance from the right leg! To add to the misery, I kicked the four-pronged walking stick over, and the handle part fell on my left foot corn! Somehow, I knew that this incident was not what EQ was warning me about! That is to be revealed, yet, if at all.
The Throne session was not a good one. Massive, slow and messy with a surprising amount of discomfort. At least it gave me a chance to have a go at the crossword. It was painful when I stood up after so long sat with bent knees. Arthur Itis wasn’t happy about it at all. I recalled bits of a horrible dream I’d had, a bully of a shop manager kept throwing me out, and threatening me with the sack?
A clean-up, and off to the kitchen. I got the kettle on and took the medications. 
The fingers were tingling and a tad annoying. 
And then… I only need the Porcelain Throne again! Arthur Itis is now as mad as he has ever been with me. This is not good! And I have to keep getting up for a wee-wee! They were all, up to now, of the PLSE (Persistent-Long-Spraying-Everywhere) style! Which some else to fret about, I just cannot control the evacuations at all. Just keep kitchen towels and disinfectant nearby to use, and a tube of Phorpain gel 
for Arthur’s knees. I think it’s fair to say, a modicum of depression is building up! The pins (legs) looked the same pot-mark-wise as earlier, but they seem to be getting a smidge more colour? Just a couple of more blood-papules. I’ll recheck them after the ablutions are done, this is a rarity! Hahaha! 
I had to absquatulate for a wee-wee, this was a bit different, of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painful) style. I got the grey bucket emptied, rinsed and sanitised, and decided to get the handwashing done. Going to be a slow job getting the jammie-bottoms dry. The socks and long-sleeve t-shirt will be okay, being thinner.
I took the black, and recycling bags down to Caretaker Stewart room. We shared some Rabelaisian humour, handed over the nibbles, and then returned to the flat, and checked to see how far on the Tracker had gone. Perhaps he’s having his dinner? The driver who is taking it to the dispatch place, I wonder where that is? Bit it is still hours away from there, then someone has to come to Nottingham with the stuff. It’s going to be hard to stay awake. Oh, dearie me! Dangwangles and damn!
his work. Ahem! 
bigger) leg.
–
Off to the wet room. A messy affair in the extreme, a struggle to get started, a lot of product, pain and some bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. But I’ve had worse, so coped well. 
I got back to the kitchen and checked the spuds and mushrooms, and put them on the keep warm setting.
Got the nosh sorted. Another changed decision. I had the chicken thighs I’d nearly forgotten about. Not a bad meal, but I was too tired to appreciate it fully. Flavour-rating; 6/10. 
. Well, no TV tonight then. I tried the radio channels, but they were cracking mumblings or broken singing/music. Ah-well! 
22:25hrs: I stirred, in somewhat of a bit of a puddled state. I thought I had only been asleep for a few minutes, I got the spectacles on and found I’d kipped for about four hours or so. I withdrew my excessively overweight, lardy-stomached body from the £300, grotty, second-hand, c1968 recliner. 
I grabbed the walking stick, and within three paces on my journey to the Porcelain Throne, I stubbed my toe on the hearth of the electric fire! As I was busy absorbing the pain and trying not to swear out loud, the ‘Hum’ became more and more noticeable and loud! Grangle-Grumps and Hoggledruids! That put an end to my plan to get my head back down after the evacuation, I was physically more awake now, at least! Haha!
I put the kettle on and moved the handwashing to above the heater. Then I realised I’d not taken the evening medications. So I did. 
a physical impossibility for someone of my plump stature, lack-of-height, physical limitations, ailments and old age, and I cannot get to see out and down, through these hideously-designed windows, like the old ones that we were happy with. That was before the two-year plus, two-million pound plus modernisation. That has left me with dangerous electrical sockets. Ruined carpets. New storage heaters Einstein would not understand how to use! That crumbling new balcony that the glass fogs up to block the view, windows in it that need a masters degree, the strength of Goliath and a first-aid-box at the ready before I dare try to open them! Hello, I wandered of the subject again. Sorry! 
Meeting up with Jenny ♥ and Frank, Doris, Margaret, Christine, Betty, Penny, Welsh William (who ignored me in his usual casual, but expert fashion), and some other Winwoodonians. We moved out to the bus stop, and much laughter, accusations, griping, verbal-sniping, insults, gossiping, put-downs, argle-bargle, and putting the world to rights was done and I enjoyed hearing it all. By gum, some days like today, it is a pleasure and honour to listen to the gang when they are in full verbalistical flow. I love it! 
annoyance at me. She gave me a card and stapled the time and date to it. Telling me that if I can’t get at that time, I’ve to ring ASAP the number on the card and inform them. I thanked her. 
I then spotted the piece of Nottinghamnian Street Art, beneath the cashpoint (ATM). Possibly an Alcoholic inspired display of an overrated takeaway meal? Tsk!
was nice to see him after so long. The girls at the flats have certainly missed him. This photo was taken a few years ago. In the temporary social and wardens cabin. Happy times, but it makes me realise how much I missed seeing Jenny and Cyndy every week. Hehe! We don’t go to the new Thursday social now. I wandered off the subject a bit there! John said he’d call on me later on. But he said that fourteen months ago when I met him in Carrington. It doesn’t matter though, he’s a popular and busy bloke, who’s helped me out so many times in the past. 
I popped into the shop, with the help again of Big John, who held the door open for me to get the three-wheeled walker-guide through the narrow doorway, bless him. 
Out and made my way up to the bus stop, across the pelican lights to the top of the hill. I have to say; I was in much better condition by then. The only ailment still giving me bother Dizzy Dennis, but, nowhere near as bad as earlier, hardly bothering me really, but the fact that he was still there, boded poorly for the evening. He is usually in the face or no there at all; he doesn’t often hang on like this. But hey-ho, I can cope with it if he doesn’t start spinning me. Like Prince Andrew, No sweat! Humorous, biting sarcasm sneaked in there! Hahaha! 
I got in the apartment and tried to concentrate the mind on what needed doing. The first thing was, I got the computer on and added the Banks appointment to the calendar. No excuse to miss it now! 
What an ambrosial feast! 
I stayed in the chair, wallowing in a sort of satisfied, happy stomached self-contentedness for ages, then forced myself to go and get the pots washed.