Saturday 4th April 2020

Scots Gaelic: Disathairne 4mh Giblean 2020

01:30hrs: The Saccades-Sandra affected eyes opened, the body teased and tested for signs of which other ailments might be bothersome this morning, and I awaited the brain to join me. It slowly engaged gear, and the Thought Storm that came with it, had me fretting, worrying and trying to make sense of the emotions, mainly taciturnity, self-hate and criticisms. Then, I had a few moments of uhtceare fretting, over just about everything that it was possible to vex about. They were soon lost to the ether, as the sudden urgent need for a wee-wee joined in the mind-confusion. 

I struggled and grappled my way free of the £300, second-hand, c1968, broken-down, rickety recliner, and up onto my plates-of-meat. So quickly, I caught my balance, then limped to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket). There I stood, without the stick, thinking things were about to burst forth… but no! Things were resistant to flow! Had I been nearer the bookshelves, I think I could have read War and Peace all the way through, before anything activity in the wee-wee stakes had started!

If Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis or Shoulder-Shaking-Sandra had attacked at this time, I could have been in a right mess! One hand against the wall, the other holding the bucket, imagine the pickle I would have been in if an involuntary right-leg Schuhplattler Dance routine had come on!

As for the actual wee-weeing, after waiting so long for some sort of activity, it was of the discomforting WUP (Weak-Unwilling-Painful) mode. By the time it had decided to stop dripping, I was almost ready to get back down in the recliner for a rest, to recover! Hehehe! This did nothing to encourage me to get going.

 Still, things had to be done. I hope I explain this bit clearly, cause my silly actions even made me smile.

I got the four-prong walking stick and decided to get the emergency bucket cleaned and refreshed, straight away. I went to the wet room to carry out this task – and realised I had not taken the bucket with me. Back to the front room, and picked up the bucket, but had a Nicodemus Neurotransmitters failure, so waited a few moments for it to die down before trying to carry the bucket, for apparent reasons. I carefully turned on the computer while waiting, which convinced me that the nerve-ends were working again, so back to the wet room… Huh! I’d left the bucket behind still! I’d actually taken the waste bin back with me! Oofta! What a meshugener, I am!

I got it right on the third attempt. Tsk! Then, in between several more slow hurtful WUP wee-wees, I took my medications, made a brew, and took some pictures of the moon smiling at me, from the dark sky.

Next, back to the computer. Where I had to create a template for this blog first and then started updating yesterday’s post.

By gad, that cost me a lot of time, several hours. Five wee-wees, that have now transubstantiated into an SSD (Short-Sensationless-Dribbling) style. At least the pain had dissipated.

Then off to the Porcelain Throne. The easiest and least painful for weeks it was! Bleeding yes, but the main concern was having to tip jug after jug of water down after flushing, as the system was not coping with it.

I returned to the computer, with a new mug of Morrison’s Extra Strong Assam tea, made en route. I put some bits on Pinterest. Then a long time on the TFZer Facebooking page. The WordPress Reader was caught up with.

I put the washing to soak in the bowl. Then it was time for the ablution battle. (Well, the sock-glide battle) For today, with having (prospectively anyway), some visitors from the Golden Volunteers calling, and if they do call, I wanted to look half-decent for them. Who knows, there might be a lady who falls for me, and desires my… Steady Inchcock! You’re losing it again!

I put the computer in sleep-mode, gathered the items and clothing needed, and off to the wetroom.

I’m back, and you might not believe it, but the ablutions dropsies count, was two! Amazing! Nothing walked into or banged, no shelves cleared. Extraordinary! No Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun, or Shoulder-Shuddering -Shirley. Phenomenal!

Sadly, the same cannot be said of the parlous, fraught with danger, high-risk, terrorising, suicidal, blood-covered, finger-bruising. black-spot, blood-blister giving, losing confrontation with Sock-Glide! Eventually, I got the first sock on. But, I was so battered, I had to give up, and tried putting on the right sock in the traditional way… Huh!

Over I went, and now I have a twisted right patella and a new bruise on the left elbow. To make things really teeth-grinding and extra-vexing, I had to do battle with the Sock-Glide again! This time, I got the second sock on! Cleaned up and medicated the injuries. Applied the pile cream, oiled the ear-holes, cream Little Inchies lesion, and got the PPs on, and used the sprays to freshen up. I left the wet room with a tick in my eye, and a nervous twitch on my lips!

And I was so proud of getting the ablutions done with so few Accifauxpas and dropsies, too! If by chance, the Golden Volunteers do not call today, and I’ve gone through all this for no reason, I might cry!

Black bags (8) taken to the waste chute. I got in a fumble getting into the chute room with all the bags and stick, but did it injury-free!

Back to the flat, and got the handwashing done, wrung and hung. Only the jammie-bottoms, I did the shirt last night.

 I went to get this post updated. But the picture gallery would not open for me? Woe is me! Alas, alack, and Sigh! If it was Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet going slow or down again, or the impossible unfunctional WordPress playing up, I don’t know, but I was pee’d off with it! I had to give up and I tried to get some urgently needed graphics done on CorelDraw. But the computer was very slow, and I had to give up.

I got the mushrooms in the saucepan. Put a can (in date) of cheapo Asda chilli-con-carne and the last of the Piccalo tomatoes in there, too. The hickory is almost gone, so I just added a drop, and a can of tomato puree, that Jenny had kindly given me. I washed the crock-pot and did some imitation cleaning of the kitchen for a while, then as I was going to check on the saucepan of chilli, the landline rang.

My hearing ion this connection was not good, but I think I caught the drift alright. It was a volunteer Golden lady, about the help. I told her the prescriptions were sorted by Deana. Also, I would manage over the weekend with the nosh Jenny has got for me and explained that I still need money so I can pay the lady for her help. She suggested that I call 0155 960 209 Thompson Bro. store, not cheap, and limited choice, but they can deliver. I explained about my hearing problem, she knew that, by the number of times I had to ask her to repeat things, I reckon, bless her. She asked if anyone can phone for me, but a negative answer had to be given. She said she’ll ring them, to ask if they can take my card because I’m broke for cash. I told her of my owing money for the first time as I can remember, and asked if she had any ideas. She’ll ring back. I thanked her, and then…

Then a touch of panic hit me… Argh! the saucepan! I hastened to the kitchen, honestly expecting the worst, but all was okay! I’d not turned the stove on at the plug! That got me going for a few moments, I can tell yer!

Take your choice, am I a dimwit, fool, idiot, blunder-brain or plain pillock? No, don’t answer that! Tsk!

The kind lady rang back, she could not get through to the shop. She confirmed that I would be alright until Monday, when someone else will ring me, regarding a possible food parcel being arranged, and shopping advice. I think that was it anyway. Stuttering Stephanie paid a visit for both calls on the phone! So, I had made the shopping list as commanded to, but it was redundant. I did make her laugh though when I told her I was getting withdrawal symptoms for my smoked bacon! Hehehe!

I’m more confused than ever now, and poor Jenny is out of pocket for helping me out!

I put the computer back on to record these facts while I thought about it with a modicum of certainty. Well, a minimal degree of certainty.

Tired and well on the way to going brain-dead now. I’ll get the nosh done.I checked the saucepan and thought the contents needed a little longer, as the mushrooms were not fully cooked.

I spotted another tellurian and his dog down on the bottom field outside. I took two snaps of them, well five or six really, but only these below were any good to use.

Cheered me a little, just watching them. Especially the dog’s resistance to letting go of the ball. Haha!

I got the meal sorted out. It looked a little threadbare compared to how one would usually look for me. No fresh orange juice, no lemon yoghourt or mousse, Tsk! Still, I mustn’t complain, bet there are lots of folks worse off than I am. The mushrooms I would not have had was it not for Jenny’s help. The can of chilli-con-carne, and last of the tasty Piccolo tomatoes, all seasoned with, balsamic vinegar (¼ of a bottle left), Light Soy sauce (half a bottle left), and some beef gravy powder (Two tins and a bit, left), tasted more than fine top me. I had the last three slices of bread thins with it. I’ve got a sourdough part-baked baguette for tomorrow, so no problems there.

I think we have been spoilt, with all the choices we have available, normally or as we used to have, I should say.

I ate it all up, taste-rating of 6/10 granted. Haha! Got the things washed-up. The crock-pot and saucepan were difficult to get cleaned for some reason?

Then I went again, to check to see if the ear-wax remover parts had been left on the lobby outside the door. Nope! However, a two-sided A4 letter had been put through the door.

Sad, how I’ve ended up. Even making sense of these guidelines had me a tad confused. To think. I used to manage Tesco and Co-op stores all those years ago. Piteous, it is. Hoggledruids! 

I reflected on an error while typing earlier, I typed crack-pot by mistake for crock-pot. Mmm? It seemed to fit the bill, betterer!

The damned Thought-Storms started after I got down in the £300, second-hand, uncomfortable, best-its-best, c1968 rickety recliner. My emotions were in turmoil. Self-critical and hating, loathsome fears and concerns and a total lack of confidence stirred in and out of the brain-box for ages. My owing money weighed heavily on my mind.

TTFN folks, sorry it’s been a bit gloomy.