Inchcockski – Sat 1 Feb 2020: A day of irresolution, emotionalisation, and a roller-coaster day!

2020 Feb 01

2020 tttFeb01

Saturday 1st February 2020

Croatian: Subota, 1 Veljače 2020 Godine

00 Feb 01

SOGL 130.0.0 02:05hrs: Well that was a better nights kip, over 5½hrs! Great! I felt like I had had a good sleep, too! Yet another fantastic morning for Inchcock!

WDP 09LAs my functions began to come into semi-life, and the brain kick-started itself, only Arthur Itis, Saccades-Sandra, and Colin Cramps seemed to be in a bad mood. Anne Gyna, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, Dizzy Dennis etc. noticeable by their absence of botherations. I think I’m getting accustomised to these Good-Luck happenings. I liked ’em!

I manoeuvred my aged, wobbly-bellied body from the £300, c1968, rickety recliner, with the aid of the four-pronged walking stick, got up like a crippled elephant onto my feet. I availed the use of the handily-place GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), a strong flow, that didn’t last long, of the SHLSDTAT; (Starting-Hosepipe-Like-Suddenly-Dying-To-A-Trickle) variety.  On my way to the kitchen, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I diverted to the wet room (Limping along nicely, I might add!)

6Sat03SOGL 130.0.0 I got there in time quickly enough, and an evacuation of almost perfect conditions followed! Apart from a little discomfort from Harold’s internal Haemorrhoids. No bleeding or trickling from Harold of Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. The legs had gained some colour as well! Some new varicose and spider veins developing, methinks.

WDa 130.0.0 Just so’s I don’t get too excited about things, I knocked the haemorrhoid and Daktacort tubes off of the floor cabinets while getting the jammies pulled up.

SOGL 130.0.0 With Shaking-Shoulder-Shay jerking kicked off as I left the room, but that doesn’t bother me much, and it’s usually copeable with, doesn’t hinder the typing on the computer much. See that? More good stuff. Colin-Cramps is keeping the Ailment-Mafia’s end up, mind. A regular rubbing in of Phorpain gel is helping me cope, I think.

6Sat01WD 130.0.0 In the kitchen, I took a shot of the morning sky; not just any shot, but the worst I’ve ever done! Humph! Yes, the neurotransmitter’s have failed again. It is impossible to stop this, but it comes and goes. It just picked the perfect time to destroy the quality of my picture! Grumpworthiness!

I got some mushrooms and leeks in the bigger crock-pot, on low heat. Made a brew, and took the medications. I added some salt, a drop of balsamic and clear distilled vinegar later on, with some caramelised gravy.

6Sat05a

6Sat02aI then moved the handwashing that was hanging drying around. Got the jammie-bottoms on the wire airer, towel on the stand-up airer and moved the shirts above the heater in the kitchen. Then, I made another brew of tea, the last one had gone cold on me.

6Sat07At last, I got the computer on to update the Friday blog Very late! But at least I’d got some other jobs done this morning.

I checked on the crock-pot stew first. I’m going to add some canned stewed steak in gravy to it after I get it in the saucepan on the hob later. That’s the plan anyway.

VirFail01bWD 130.0.0 Well, the internet started off failing to save straight away, as soon as I’d written a sentence on WordPress! And I had to do three amendments due to the neurotransmitter’s nerves playing up, still. I decided to go on the TFZer Facebooking first, as nothing was needing to be saved on that, so it might prove more productive.

VirFail01bWD 130.0.0 Well, I was wrong again! So, I went back to doing the updating of the Friday post, again! Much correctionalisationing was needed, and the internet also slowed me down, along with the neurotransmitter’s nerves. So very Agravannoying!

6Sat07I popped in to check on the slow-cooker again. After yesterdays burnt offering, I was still a touch nervous of a repeat performance. No bother, though, the pots, onions and leeks were looking good and cooking rather swiftly.

Back to the computerisationing, and got the Friday diary finished, but it was well gone 06:00hrs by that time! Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating! 

So, has my scintilla of good-luck come to an end? I suppose so! At this thought, I checked on the cooking again. All was okay, I transferred the food to the large saucepan, made and added son caramelised gravy to it, and stirred it in well. Then cleaned the large crock-pot and lid.6Sat10 They don’t half get dirty, don’t they? Took me ages and a lot of effort to get it looking something like alright!

Back on the computer, and my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-law Pete, called on the landline. Pete, the same age as wot I am, a bit older actually. Who still has his hair, is handsome. Much loved by the ladies. Is fit, capable, not lost his memory, is a mechanical and electrical genius too. The one that retired fifteen years early. Can’t blame him after his big wins on the pools then the lottery. Then, when he was left a fortune by an unknown relative. So, he invested in off-shore accounts, the stock-exchange, bought a new car and retired. Jealous? Me? We had a good chinwag, Sister Jane was dining out with her friends in Nottingham. I told him I was looking for a name to give for my Shaking Shoulder, and he suggested Shane, so it will be! Rings nicely, Shaking-Shoulder-Shane! Hehe!

We had a good gossip and laugh. But he had to go, Sister Jane was checking up on him again. Haha!  Nice of him to ring, mainly to mention that I missed his birthday. I nearly told him to keep the money he stole from the flat and didn’t return while I was in the hospital from the stroke. But I didn’t. I understand getting cash out of the Scottish Widows European Back-Hander Fund is not easy!

I did some work on this blog and then went to make a fresh brew. Pete has mentioned the beautiful clouds at his posh-end of Nottingham, and  I saw how picturesque they were.

6Sat09WDa 130.0.0 I put the kettle on and went to open the unliked, unwanted, thick-framed, light and below-view-blocking window to take photographicalisation of the sky… The howling wind blew the window in and clouted me on the forehead, knocked the glasses of my head. And flung the t-shirt that was hanging there, right across the room. With the coathanger managing to hit my ear-hole as it went by! The mysteries of 72 Woodthorpe Court, the illusions, delusions, hallucinations, infestations, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and manic machinations that thrive here freely, are bountiful!
Just thought I’d mention it.

I must try to get some graphics done, even though it’s beyond my usual head-down time. But no, only one ‘Thought’ done, and the fatigue set in.

6Sat14I went to get the stew meal sorted and prepared. First, I just had to take a couple more photographs of the sky view, with the sun still trying to get its heatless, cold beam on earth. Bootiful!

I moved the mish-mash of leeks, potatoes, mushrooms and garden peas, from the crock-pot into the saucepan. Added some tinned beef in gravy to the mix, and out some more balsamic vinegar in. Stirred it well, tasted a spoonful, then made some gravy, and that was mixed in too.

WD 130.0.0 While it heated up again, I washed the slow-cooker pot and casing. What a horrible, messy, time-consuming job! Cut my finger, dropped the rag, spilt water all over the sink. Dangwangles!

6Sat11Got the things back on the counter, and made an orange spring water drink to take the medications with. I had a view of outside as I took the tablets, and down by the bottom of my sadly, much-missed tree copse, I could see people going over to something left at the foot of the hill. I zoomed in to see what it was. A tribute, possibly from a funeral, left as you can in. I wondered sadly if I will ever get fit enough to visit the copse again. I used to love going through and just stopping at times, to almost talk to the trees, and smell nature. I lovely gesture I think, putting this where presumably, the deceased used to stroll him or herself? Heartwarming, but depressing on a personal level, at the thought of my never being well-enough to visit it again! Maybe one day, with someone with me, I’d like to try.

WD 130.0.0 I pulled myself out of my self-pity mode, to find the pan of ‘Inchcock imitation Stew’ was bubbling over! Oh, Gawd! More cleaning up and washing to do! Humph!

6Sat15I got the meal served up and pondered on what I’d actually put in it. Potatoes, mushrooms, leeks, black Iberico tomatoes, garden peas in rich gravy… and the seasoning! Well, sea salt, balsamic vinegar, distilled vinegar and beef stock. Sounds a bit of a risk, but it smelt nice. Hehehe!

I ate it all up, with a flavour rating of 7.5/10 given.

Dropped the dish and things in the bowl to soak, and got down to watch a DVD.

ZZZ!

6 thoughts on “Inchcockski – Sat 1 Feb 2020: A day of irresolution, emotionalisation, and a roller-coaster day!

  1. It seems like the crockpot is working out. You put together a decent looking meal. That is a strange tribute or whatever you zoomed in on. Nice sunscape photos. Legs don’t look too bad.

    • Thanks, Tim. The cooking is going well, apart from the burnt offerings, but that was a temporary glitch, I’m sure. (Ahem!)
      Sure was a mystery seeing that floral arrangement out there near the copse, Tim.
      The pins are as near to normal as they’ve been for months now. The Clopidogrel seems to be leaving me altogether, Wee-hee!
      Taketh care, fuss for the pussies, please!

  2. Quite the meteorological phenom there, Inch. I hope it does not precipitate a fear of unprovoked coathangers attacking your earholes, akin to xyrophobia perhaps. Watch for symptoms such as avoiding the window with the inordinately long sills that block the view below 🙂
    TTFN

    • I have to say, Bill, that the only time a coathangar has harrassed me, was when it bore wet clothing on it, to cause me the suffer more than if the clothes were dry. I’ve no idea what this means, but… Hahaha!
      I fear not my razor, but the cuts it gives me! Hehe!
      Hope you doing alright, Sir?
      TTFN

      • Water weighs 62 lbs per cubic foot, all that wet clothing packed a soggish wallop. 🙂
        To misquote Franklin Delano Roosevelt: The only things we have to fear are the enemy and ourselves.
        Doing pretty danged well I will say, but everything is relative — particularly the relatives, in-laws, and out-laws 🙂

      • Thanks, Bill.
        Not so good this morning, had a nasty turn yesterday evening. Brain still not right… well, it hasn’t been for years now. Hahaha!
        TTFN

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