Tuesday 10th March 2020
Nepali: मंगलबार १० मार्च २०२०
01:25hrs: I woke up, feeling strangely contented? (If a dream caused this, I want another one like it, Hahaha!) A wee-wee was soon needed, the grey bucket had not been used all night, another conundrum! Hmm? Off to the wet room.
Well, that was interesting. I spent a few minutes before the flow started, the tiniest bits of discomfort, two or three sprinkles, and that was that! Ah, well!
Got the kettle on, took the medications, made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana, and got the computer on. (and all without much hassle from the ailments at all), Well, apart from Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley, and the right leg twitching a tad. But I can cope with these alright.
I wanted to get the updating and finalising of the Monday post done before the Morrison delivery was due (06:30>07:30hrs). A lot of photographs to go on it, from yesterdays gadabout, and Whoopsidanglelpop with the buses in town. I pressed on, getting a few annoying moments of inorthography had me stumped. This was not due to any insouciance on my behalf. I was concentrating well, I thought, but the brain had different ideas. I plugged away, and finally got it finished at last (Three-and-a-half hours).
I got the veg in the crock-pot on a low setting. Leeks, parsnips, carrots and turnips.
Then, I checked on the Amazon Tracker for the droppers and blow-bulb rough ETA. It looks like it will a late one. Can’t be helped.
No time to send it off the blog yet, the Morrison delivery arrived. I even heard the intercom with no difficulty. (I pondered if my using the medical olive oil more often had helped? If so, when I the de-waxing tool, it might get even better?) I let him in, and he was soon up at the door. The lad placed the bags inside the door for me and then shot off, bless him.
I got the things into the kitchen and put in the cupboards or the fridge as required.
The fresh sweet potato slices tempted me so much, I decided I’d have them with the veggies and some of the chicken pieces for lunch, dinner whatever. But they were not cheap by any means, so I must taketh care not to make a mess of cooking them this time. Last time when I burnt them, they were frozen ones that cost £1.50 for 300g – these cost £3.50 for 250g.
It’s getting on now, so I put some more olive oil in the tab-holes, checked the veggies progress, and went for a wee-wee.
But it proved a trickle-less effort? Humph!
I took a shot of the murky looking sky from the unpopular, dirty, light & view-blocking, photographer-hating, thick-framed, kitchen window.
Then, back on the computer to send off the blog I’d finished, and made a start on this one.
The doorbell chimed out. But I only just heard it this time. The fitter-lads were back at it, just outside the front door in the flat’s hallway, and making an unruly, but, unavoidable din and racket. I thought it might be the Phlebotomy nurse who’d been let in. But it was Josie, returning the things from the Sunday meal. I inquired if she liked the new things I tried. All she said was, the cheesy potatoes were lovely! Good enough for me!
I took the server-tray, plate and cutlery into the kitchen, made a brew of Glenghettie tea, and back onto the computer. Minutes later, the intercom chimed out again. This time it was the nurse. I full-figured Phlebotomy-nurse! She soon sorted out taking the blood and chatted a bit, that was most welcome! Handed her some vanilla wafers, by way of a thank-you. And she trotted of with some haste. Everybody is busy today!
I made an order for Iceland. Some of the braised beef in onion gravy (2), I have plans to add some home-made vegetables to them and see what they turn out like. Chicken Satays, Mini ice-cream bars, mushrooms, onions, leeks, cooking butter. And on offer-price, Aberdeen meat joint, orange squash, Hob cleaner, a few different of kitchen-rolls, and some toilet rolls. There was only one type of bog-rolls in stock! Comfort (16-pack), and only one of them was allowed to could be ordered. The panic stock-piling I suppose. The chances are, they might not be any available at all come the delivery time? Oh, dear, dear, dearie me!
I got as far as here and had a search around amongst the mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court, that lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the eternal cosmic continuum. It’s illusions, delusions, abstrusities, problemata, emotions, and despair. Katzenjammers and emotional-quagmires; for the missing Olive Oil pots, I had delivered on Saturday. What the heck did do with them. I had four, and can only find the one, now! No luck! Krankelkraps!
Did check on the Amazon order; Looking better now.
Sister Jane phoned me, she’s sent me a bit of the Nottingham Post paper on the snail-post, with details about diabetes for me to read. Not arrived yet.
Then I went of CorelDraw to make some graphics. Then checked on the Amazon situation. Nearly here!
That’s it, it had to come, Dizzy Dennis is back like a thunderstorm! I’ll get a sit down quietly. But I must not fall asleep and miss the delivery of the ear cleaners especially.
The intercom came to light and life, it was the Amazon delivery gentleman. I must have looked a sight as I opened the door to him. The Dizzy Dennis shakes were well set-in. The lad kept asking me if I was alright, bless his cotton socks.
Took the parcel through to the kitchen and left it for sorting later, tomorrow maybe.
– Wearily I got the meal served up, but not without some minor Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops in doing so. A cut finger, a burnt wrist, various dropsies, including as I recall, cutlery, washing up bottle, saucepan lid and the salt pot.
The meal was a worthy 8.2/10 for taste-rating. This was mainly due to the absolutely delightful sweet potato fritters!
But as I said earlier, the fatigue won the day, I struggled through the cleaning up, and got settled, in body, not mind (Hehe!), in the £300, second-hand, cringingly-crude beige-coloured recliner, that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged. At the same time, as he was flat-sitting and stealing my valuables.
I so wanted and needed sleep. But it was not to be! Shaking Shaun and Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley ensured that. When the Thought-Storming started, I gave up and just went along with the tormenting flow, trying my best to attain a state of apanthropinisation.
Sleep must have come, cause I woke up later. Haha!