
Sunday 19th December 2020
Latvian: Svētdiena, 2020 Gada 19 Decembris
00:30: I got on the computer to update the Saturday blog, which was a sad day, no chinwags or signs of any other tellurians. But then again, with the memory-loss, finishing off the post did not take as long as usual. I soon had it sorted and sent off. With only one wee-wee needed the whole time, mind you, it nearly filled the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket).
I put some bits on Pinterest, then went on the WordPress Reader. Lots of good stuff on this morning. Then TFZer Facebooking.
The Ode tells of what happened next. It is here: Whoopsiedangleploppery
Then it arrived, the belated call to the Porcelain Throne. A slow, uncomfortable evacuation, but not too painful this time. Minimal bleeding. And, not messy either. Quite copable with.
At last, time for a break and mug of tea. While the kettle was boiling, I opened the unwanted, unliked, impossible to get at to clean, light and view-blocking, thick-framed, window. The wind-letting-in new windows, with the sticking-out too far ledges that prevent me from viewing down onto Chestnut Walk to see if any emergency vehicles coming on-site, due to my not being able to hear the fire alarm.
I did a Morrison order and told them of the short-dated mushrooms (one day) and damaged can of Daniels coke. I don’t know why I bothered.
No sooner had I left the wet-room, and the Porcelain Throne summoning returned, back into the wet-room I poddled. But nothing happened! No movement at all, it didn’t feel blocked, no gurgling, no innards-pains, just not interested. The Smug-Mode was cancelled!
But, it gave me a chance to have decker at the pins (legs). Aha, a change in colour, and a new blemish! I’m so lucky to have this interesting ‘leg-status’ changes every day. Just think, there are people out there, with dull, staying-the-same pins. Missing all this excitement of searching and medicating the blood-papules, Clopidogrel lumps, deep vein arterial thrombosis, spider and varicose veins! The weal’s, scars, bumps, bulges, spots, bruises, welts, contusions, blemishes, and boils. And, even now still, getting amazed at the daily transformations. I am blessed. Hehehe!
I planned Josie’s meal-making. Got the haddock & cheese ball and smoked haddock fillet in the oven, peas in the pan, tomato ready in the slicer, the crispy onions warming, sliced the beetroots and got the gin & tonic and limoncello dessert on the tray. Looking good now.
I returned to the untidy, messy flat, and got the washing up done. It took some time and effort, as usual, to get the spoon, bowl and fork freed of food and cleaned.
I got the Nikon camera in the three-wheel-walker, donned my heavy coat, and off I went to take some rooftop photographs from Winwood Court.
Despite the bright dazzling sunshine, it was bitter cold on the roof. I didn’t stay up there for too long, took a few photographicalisations and got back in sharpish! Down in lift and out through Windwood Courts entrance, to take some pictures as I hobbled down Chestnut Walk back to my beloved colder than Winwood, but warmer than outside, Woodthorpe Court. I took a shot showing Winwood and Winchester Court, then Winwood and Woodthorpe Courts.
As I ambled limpingly along toward Woodthorpe, I had an aphoristic moment of meditational reflection. I would never have thought I’d end up like I have done. Alone amongst so many others, possibly many of them thinking the same.
There was no feeling sorry for myself or anything like that. Just a sort of ‘How the heck did this happen’ feeling. Hehehe!
As I hobbled by the Electric-Vehicle Recharging Points, I saw a funny in the situation. Why has no one come-up with electric 3-wheeler-trolley-guides? Then I realised, with my absentmindedness, abstraction, amnesia, falling-asleep at a whim, and memory-blanks; I’d only do the same thing as I used to do with the laundry washing, I’d forget all about it being on! Sad, I know, but laughable at the same time. Hahaha!
I meandered up to the flat, in a sort of neutral frame of mind, more relaxed than of late.
A mega-wee-wee, wash, then I decided to get on with the handwashing. Heavy work this time, the thick jammie-bottoms, the thin (How as it lasted so long) dressing gown, a pair of socks, and a long-sleeve t-shirt.
Down the wet coat came, landing on me, in the washing up bowl and getting water on the kitchen floor. I was scunnered!
Then, of course, had to sort things out. Dry my self off, then the floor and cabinets, change the washing up water and do the pots again.
And most aggravatingly, wash the dressing gown again! During all this bending, Back-Pain Brenda, got very nasty with me, de novo!
I was now flaked-out. I got in the £300 second-hand, c1968 sickeningly beige coloured, tatty recliner. There were three Ramsay kitchen thingies showing in succession that I planned to watch. Hahahahaha! No chance!