Monday 27th January 2020

Luxembourgish: Méindeg 27 Januar 2020

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.

I don’t want to lower the tone of this honest-open-true blog any further, but I just have to mention this: It was agony! It took a lot of effort and time. And the evacuated product looked just like three hand-grenades in shape. Amazingly there was no bleeding with it at all? The soreness soon eased off, as well. If it wasn’t so crude a subject to many, I could write a book about my Porcelain Throne visits variations. Haha! Better not though!

I was soon feeling a lot perkier… alright, not so bad, then. Washed, antisepticised the contact areas, and off to the kitchen. I was feeling pleased that I did not oversleep, in fact, I’d had less sleep than for ages. (Not counting the nights when I didn’t get any, of course) And felt better now, than for many a morning, weary-wise.

I made a brew of Glenghettie tea, took the medications, and pondered on the days upcoming Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and frustrations. (Well, they always do! Tsk!) I took a shot out of the unwanted, disliked, light & view-blocking kitchen window, with the wide ledges that stop me looking below for emergency vehicles when the fire alarm goes off, and I can hear it. Which is a rarity! No stars out that could be seen?

I went into a drawer to get a sharp knife and found Liberty-Global Virgin Media letter, why I put it in the drawer is uncertain. I recognised it immediately; only virgin media use font sizes so small they are almost unreadable, even with the reading glasses on.

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 found the knife required and being as the right-hand side neurotransmitters were working reasonably well at this moment. I decided to risk getting the gigantic crock-pot back in its box, and then get the newer on out the other box. See if it fits on the counter-top, and get the stuff ready with the already copious amounts of black bags and recycling ones, made up yesterday. But waiting in for the delivery meant I couldn’t leave the flat, for taking down to the skip. Which is a prospective dangerous Whoopsiedangleplop-risk situation?

I set about my self-given tasks. It was hard work, made worse when Anne Gyna and Saccades-Sandra both started to give me some grief.

Eventually, I got the new-old massive cooker 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!

As I was taking the new box into the kitchen to release the contents, I was, well, stunned to see the clock reading 4:10hrs! What! I hadn’t even started the bog updating yet! I decided what had happened was: I’d misread the clock on waking up. I read it as 00:25hrs, so I tried to think-out what the time actually was then. But could not work it out in my befuddled brain. I did feel a Klutz! My previously adopted Smug-Mode evaporated! I was puzzled, but that’s not unusual nowadays.

I got 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 cooker was twice the size of the original one, but a third less large as the big one. I tested the space to see if it would fit in, only just, but it did. I was planning to sort out the shelves to make more room. But with my mistiming things, I had to get on sharp[ish to do the updating of the Sunday post. (Pillock!)

The instructions and advertising bumph will have to be read and hopefully digested at a later time.

Oh, it’s a Slow Cooker and Searer? Searer? That will have to be looked up later, on Google as well! I could top-myself, but I just don’t have the time. Hahaha!

I pressed on with updating the WordPress blog. Luckily it didn’t take too long. As usual; with staying in again waiting for deliveries, I took only a few photographs.  Saccades-Sandra did her best, and no doubt slowed me down somewhat.

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?)

The pins (legs) looked a tiny bit battered, but I’ve no idea why? However, the scrubbing-up went well today. A few dropsies, no shaving cuts, the sock-glide battle was injury-free, and it was completed without clearing the floor cabinet of things. Although the Germoloid tube had to be rescued when I went down the back of the stand. The picker-upper was handy and efficient for once. I’m so glad I bought another one now, this one for the wet room, and the other one for the rest of the flat. I’ve also got one in the kitchen, it is a cheap one, and not much use, anything small, or above 4oz cannot be grabbed! I’m waffling again, Sorry!

I took some bags to the waste chute, and the workers doing the fire-sprinkler system were working in the lift lobby, they had stuff laying about, and kindly took the bags from me, and chuted them. Kind of them. We had a natter and laugh.

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!

Here, a lingering unsolved mystery was clarified by Obergruppenführeresses Desk-top Dancer & Warden Deana. When I woke to find the things in the hallway the other day, and the light in the hall, I had no idea what had happened, but I just knew someone had been in. Well, Deana told me that Jenny and Josie had been concerned at not seeing me for a while, and Jenny had come to check on me. Found me asleep, checked I was breathing, and was alright, and left me to it. Now that was indicative of that lady – so kind of her. Thanks, Jenny ♥!

I offered the nibbles around and explained how the night was, and my sleeping pattern was all gone to pot and why. That brought a yawn from her! Hahaha! We had a little gossip between the four of us, and I left.

As I met Angela and Roy in the foyer, I greeted them, and almost walked into the desk? That was when I realised that I had on the reading glasses! So I had to go back to Woodthorpe Court, to get the bifocals on. Then a bit of rush to get back down again in time to catch the bus.

I got through to Winchester Court and handed some nibbles out to a few residents waiting for the bus, and had a mini-chinwag and laugh. The bus arrived, and out we all hastened. I felt something was wrong, not right as I went to get on the bus… Ah, that’s it, it wasn’t raining!

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 got to the Aldi shop, to get banged into, shoulder charged and got a shopping-trolley over my foot, then back to Parliament Street and to the Poundshop store.No injuries, but a few tut-tuts at the self-serve checkout, the assistant noticed me struggling a bit, and did the job for me. Bless her.

This below is a picture I took, mainly to try and get the same area as the second picture, from when the Victoria Centre was being built. I couldn’t get the right angle, cause that would have meant me going in the middle of the road… Too Risky! Haha!

The tale in pictures, from getting off of the bus, and going to the Poundshop.

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Glasshouse Street. This one is interesting, I thought it deserved its own photo. Where they were busy demolishing some, and building or converting other premises, mostly for extra student accommodation, some Grafittists had broken into the compound to do their thing. Before the mortar-mix had dried properly!

It looked unfinished to me, so they might return to finish it off again. It might not be the best artwork, well it isn’t, but you can’t fault them at their keenest to get at the wall! Tsk!

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. Amidst the cheerless faces, and further looks of derision, I even got the evil-eye from one of Nottingham’s rarest people, a policeman! 

Ah, well, yer can’t please em all!

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!

Then I saw the bus-jam going down King Street. 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! How the bus drivers get through in this conglomeration of obstacles, amazes me.

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.

I also noticed that there were no buses at any of the stops on Queen Street! This had never happened before. Someone had gotten hold of the driver of the lorry parked at the bottom apex, that was stopping buses getting by. He moved it, as shown in this picture, and they were still struggling to get through, and traffic came to a grinding halt again! This is going to cause a headache for the bus drivers and passengers awaiting them further along the route. All created, by one desperate poor old delivery driver, and roadworks.

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 got off the bus and had a quick hello with some tenants getting on the bus, and accepted their snides, insults and put-downs in good spirit.

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. A notice advertising a residents meeting for Wednesday 5th February was on the notice board in the grungy, drab, dark lobby.

Up in the elevator and into the flat. No wee-wee called for? I got the purchasers put away. Aldi: Sourdough baguettes, Cox’s apples, vanilla dessert, chestnut mushrooms, Frikadellens, lemon yoghourts, Cheese(plastic)-topped cobs and four cans of ring-pull opening garden peas. Then the Poundland: Pork Farms Pork Pie (Yes, I weakened again!), Dettol disinfectants, Nibble bag gold bars, and a packet of lemon flavoured chocolate digestive biscuits Another weakness! 

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.

The weariness dawned on me even earlier today.

Most of it ended up in the bin. It helped me to eat less, by my nodding off while eating it!

Waking up, an hour or so later, with my over-abundant wobbly belly and the chair being covered with garden-peas, half a buttered cob, and streaks of caramelised red onion chutney did not go down well at all! The cleaning the mess up was done with deep-lying self-flagellation, and a toe-stubbing, as it was now dark and the Ottoman highjacked me as I was getting the walking stick. Humph! What a Yolop!

I’m showing an incredible amount of aboulia-abulia lately! And, dysphoria, self-contempt, and once again, depression. Still, it’s deserved.

After sorting out the state of the place without any further injuries, I got settled once again. But the events had started the Mind-Thought-Storming. so it was a long time before I could nod-off.

When I drifted away, a dream began. For some reason, even during the dream, I thought ‘I’ve dreamt this years ago’? Yet the images felt so real. Driving my old Subaru Justy, and getting lost, in a right pickle. Towards the end of the nightmare, I was on a motorway, and the exits disappeared as I approached them… can’t recall if got off or not! Hoggledruids!