Wednesday 29th January 2020

Frisian: Woansdei 29 Jannewaris 2020

23:52hrs: I transformed into semi-life status, and responded to the need for a wee-wee hastily, for it was an urgent need! Raising my wobbly, over-stomached body-mass from the second-hand, £300 recliner and taking the stick and few paces to the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with ease. I had an SFDBFF (Started-Firm-Determined-But-Faded-Fast) style evacuation. No demands for a Porcelain Throne came?

I got to the kitchen, cleaned and sanitised the bucket. Took the medications, and made a brew of Glengettie tea, to ease my brain hopefully, into some sort of mental action. It seemed to work! For after a good gulp of the deep-amber fluid, I remembered that the food delivery was coming early, twixt 07:00 > 08:00hrs. I decided to make sure I got the ablutions done sooner than usual as well! Then, as I hobbled carefully back to the computer dump room, I recalled that today was the Bank Manager’s visit appointment!

As I settled and got the computer on to update the blog, I noted how well things were going this morning, up to now anyway. The attentions of Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, and even Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun were all minimal! Only Saccades-Sandra and a few tremors and shakes from the peripheral neuralgia arm and shoulder were of any real worry-worthiness. Even the toothache seemed less painful? That’s something else; when I go to see the bank manageress, I must call at the dentists to make an appointment.

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 got some potatoes and mushroom in the slow-cooker for later. Just seasoned with salt this time. Ah, the internet was back on!

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 needed to make a template for this post. The CorelDrawing bit was fine, but getting the template made up on WordPress was a grind-and-a-half with the internet failing so often, for periods of a minute, three minutes back on, and off again… Arghh!

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!

I put the handwashing in soak and went to get the stand-up ablutionalisationing done. Apart from around five shaving cuts, and about four dropsies, all went well. Even the Sock-Glide battle (I think I’m mastering the thing now!) Smug-Mode-Adopted!

Got smelly with sprays, dressed and went to get the handwashing. All done, rung and hung. That Amazon long sleeve t-shirt that was chocolate brown when I bought it, turned to green on the first wash, and is now a sort of olive-dark blue colour, Tsk!, has still got that stain on the front.  I must have spilt some bleach on it. Humph!

So, no toe stubbings, no Dizzy Dennis’, Shaking Shaun was still about, but not so interested in me as he was earlier.

Still, there are no Porcelain Throne attentions called for? Mmm?

I went to the kitchen and decided to take a couple of photographicalisations from the unwanted, disliked, anti-photographer, and deaf people designed with wide ledges to stop me seeing what is below and taking a snap. Or, see if any emergency vehicles are on-site, due to me not hearing the Fire Alarm.

The sun kept trying to come out but went in and hid when it came to my picturing the view. Coming out the moment I’d put the camera away! Huh!

I sorted the black bags and took them to the waste chute. Then returnedReadies, black bags down to chute. Back to the flat, and dithered about, convinced that something had not been done yet. A general feeling of anaemia reigned.

It took me a long while trying to sort out what it was that was niggling at me. And then I didn’t find it! I had the Bank paperwork, card, bus-pass, hearing aids in the lug-holes, the right glasses on the head, alert bracelets on the wrists, Warfarin card in pocket, money, sourdough bread for the ILCs, medications taken, Calendar checked for appointment time at the bank (In fact they sent me text reminding me of the 10:00hr attendance and punctuality needed – Read later, a farce!), crossword book in the trolley… Oh, what the heck is it?

But I had to accept defeat. Wrapped up warmly, and then the farcical double-checking started. To reassure myself and verifying that all in the apartment was left safely.

Out to ask Deana if the kitchen volunteers wanted the new extra-large crock-pot or not. No message has been sent back from anyone who had been received when I offered yesterday morning. I also had a treat for them, of the Polish sliced sourdough bread. They love it, and I love being able to treat them when I order anything from Ocado, who, as far as I know, is the only place that sells it. A little thank you.

I departed, still feeling uneasy, thinking about whatever it was I thought had not been done or taken with me. Humph!

When I got in the lift, I found a damp t-shit on the deck in the cage. Obviously, some poor soul had dropped it when returning from the laundry room. So, I pucked it up and shook off the bits from the floor attached to it, and hung it on the handrail. I hope they find it later. Just my sort of antics to get up to!

When I got to the Winwood Heights Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Wardens and Lap-Top Dancers Interrogation Office, but no one answers my knock.

So I went to the big social lounge and had a go at my crossword book for a bit. I got involved in the puzzle and nearly forgot the time, I had to rush a little to get to Winchester Courts lobby. Where some tenants were waiting in the warmth for the bus. I handed out some nibbles, and we nattered and laughed a little, as I accepted the put-downs and touches of sarcasm in good spirit.

A big crowd at the shelter this morning. Angela & Roy, Penny, Shirley, Mary, Margaret, Doris, Louie, Welsh William, the snotty bloke from Woodthorpe Court, and others. Note how I remembered so many names there? Smug Mode adopted.

I good chinwag with Margaret on the few bus-stops down Winchester Street, where I dropped off the bus with Angela and Roy. We all went into the bank. Angie and Roy got served first, and I waited my turn. The appointment time passed by. No signs of anyone interested in me. Angie and Roy may have had a query of some sort because they were escorted into the office where my meeting was supposed to have been.

I kept poddling about the place with the trolley-walker, to keep the knees from stiffening, for fifteen minutes or so. When the pair came out of the office and passed me on the way out, Angela said she was sorry for messing up my appointment and keeping me waiting, bless her. I replied, “Thank you, it just shows how lucky my life is!” She did laugh!

The Local Banker, Washeeda Hashmi, came to collect me. My EQ saw pound-signs on legs! Which proved to be right! As we walked to the office, she apologised for keeping me waiting. With a broad grin, I answered; Yes, I suppose they have bigger assets and investments than me?” She smiled, cocked her head to one side and said, “Well, yes” and her grin broadened. Ah, a sense of humour, I liked that!

First, the lady was advised by me of my medical situation, and I started by asking her about the second account, asking why the interest had been cut by 50%. I received what sounded like gobbledegook and ended up more confused than before I’d asked the question. But, she changed something or other, and the interest was, all 1.5%, was restored, but in a new different account? High finance, not my easiest of topics for me to get a grip on!

Then the sales pitch came. Did I want to increase my cover in the event of losing my money? How much do I pay for my current house-contents insurance? I was given her card to call or pop in to see her when the coverage is due to be renewed. Name, tel number, she works Mopn Tue Weds only, I must ring her, she might be able to offer a better deal. Is your funeral arranged yet? ‘Yes!’

Then I inquired about the new cashcard and what is needed to be done. She patiently explained things and even went out with me to the cash-point to ‘Enable’ or was it ‘Actuate’, the card for me. I asked if I could draw some cash, to be sure the card was now operational. “No problem,” she said. But the machine would not accept the card! She looked embarrassed, and I felt baffled! We went back inside, and the card was used at the counter, and it worked! Phew! 

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.

Up the hill to the bus stop. Things worked out well timing-wise, two-minutes later, the L9 to Arnold arrived.

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, I was struggling a bit in getting around the store with the box and the three-wheel-walker-guide. I limped around and ended up at the check-out with; The crock-pot, pack on mini-Swiss rolls, some potatoes, and chopped leeks. Paid the helpful gal on the till, who also helped me load the bag, and even put it on the trolley handle for me. Thank you, petal!

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 pondered over my next move. There were about twenty-five minutes before the bus was due. So, I went down and over the road, to have a look in the Fultons Foods shop, to get some garden peas with the ring-pull openers if they had any in. I ambled stumblingly (the balancing of the bags was not easy, with the one with the cooker in it sticking out and catching things. Tsk!) to the crossing, and over the road to the shop. I came out with three for-a-pound tins of peas, Hills Shorties biscuits, and two pots of lemon cheesecakes.

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.

No crosswording on the route back to the flats. There was no room with the two bags and trolley bag full, it took all my concentration to stop the useless brakes-applied guide from shooting off each the bus went around a corner or braked sharply. But Mary and I managed a tete-e-tete, though.

We got back to Winwood Heights, and I dropped the sourdough bread off in the warden’s office. No mention of the giant-crock-pot being needed, so I dropped off the loaf and told Mary she could have it straight away. We ambled to Woodthorpe Court and up in the lift, Maty getting off on the first floor, and saying she would be up for the cooker soon. No problem, I say’s, and I carried on up to the twelfth floor and got inside.

I had a bit of bother getting the bags in, but did it okay. Emptied out the trolley and carriers, and was setting up the new cooker, as Mary arrived. She took the cooker, asked how much, I said ‘Nowt’, she thanked me and shot off with it.

I put the fodder away. Then got the new pot set-up next to the other semi-new biggerer one.

Which, of course, meant I now have to find room to put all the stuff I had to move away off of the counter-top, to avoid them being near the heat of the crock-pots when in use!

I’ll have to keep an eye on the control settings being used. They are different from each other. Fingers crossed I don’t cock it up!

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!

The washing up was done. Cleaning the large slow-cooker took longer than everything else put together! Glad I’ve got the new smaller one for tomorrow, at last.

I put the computer on to add to the calendar, and the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet was working okay?

Put the TV on, and after an hour or so of nodding-offs and wakenings, I gave up and turned the telly set off.

Then, the brain-storming began! Fears, worries, past-faults, heebie-jeebies, psychasthenia, and insecurity all flowed and churned inwardly.

It was ages before I hibernated for the evening. Hey-ho!