Saturday 30th May 2020
Dutch: Zaterdag 30 Mei 2020
02:30hrs: I woke, the brain caught me up, and the sound of the annoying ‘Hum’ all around was a bit louder than of late – but, no time for that – Wee-wee-William was wanting to be freed!
Getting my unhealthy, aged, gargantuan oversized-stomached decrepit, body from the recliner and onto my feet, was no easy matter this morning. But apart from Arthur Itis’s knees, the overgrown toenails, the ankle ulcer, the leg ulcer, Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Anne Gyna, there was little bothering. Hehehe!
I limped over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and painfully proceeded with passing a WSSUGG (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Greeny-Grey) wee-wee! It still confuses me, how overnight, I cannot remember struggling out of the recliner at all, let alone hobbling over to the bucket or and using it, but it was half-filled? Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?
As I entered the kitchen, I thought I’d photograph the view of the new, unwanted, thick-framed, unliked, letting-rain-in, designed by a nasty, foul, cruel photographers-hating designer. That has been deliberately modelled so that no handicapped or elderly camera-user can take a photograph of Chestnut Walk below, without risking life and limb to climb the stepladder to see what he is shooting. Inevitably causing injury, upsetting Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna, Dizzy Dennis, or Back Pain Brenda. Toe-stubbing and falling off of the ladder is something that will no doubt please the architect or whatever Satanistic nerd, who planned the layout. But it doesn’t bother me! I fear a niggly-period just might be coming on, sorry.
Photographed Today!
I got the kettle on. The pot is near the air-vent on the wall that kept falling off, and the wind howling in when I first arrived at the flat. (See Photo right!) A fitter came to have a look at it (in 2016, I think) and booked me in for call two-months later for someone to tackle the problem. A young man arrived as planned to tell me it has been cancelled due to an emergency. ‘Fair enough’, I said, ‘can’t be helped’. I got a letter a week later rebooking the job, for a date three weeks later. A different young man arrived, had a look and soon set about with his foam filler, and plugged the hole. I thanked him, and off he shot, and I went shopping. But it doesn’t bother me!
On my return, I found it just like it is now (Only whiter). WArden Dean called them for me to explain, and I got a booking for a call four-weeks later. A man arrived, agreed it was terrible and needed doing, especially as the foam had covered the electric socket and gone rock-hard. ‘I’ll get it booked in for you’. ‘Thanks, mate’. ‘No problem!’ But it doesn’t bother me!
All this was before I got the ankle and leg ulcers. Then got diagnosed with the Peripheral Neuropathy, (dying nerve-ends). Had to use the walking stick and/or the walker-guide. But it doesn’t bother me!
Then they rushed me into the hospital when I collapsed in the recliner, nothing found wrong? Then weeks later, I had the stroke! Spent six weeks in the stroke ward, then another four in a care home. Got back here, the right ankle giving way, dropping stuff, walking into things, collapsing with dizzies and Anne Gyna was confirmed as a new ailment for me. Then diagnosed as diabetic. But it doesn’t bother me!
The plastic cover still drops off now and then. The socket flashes with static. But no rush, I’ll be a goner soon, then it will be easier for them to mend things when I’m not in the way. ready for the next tenant. But it doesn’t bother me!
And now, five years later, I’ve given up all hope of getting an appointment to get the kitchen made-safe and cleaned up, and I am in no state to do it myself. But it doesn’t bother me!
Touch of self-pity and frustration crept in there big time, sorry again!
Made the brew, did the medicalisationing. The sys had crept back up a bit. The pulse, too, but I think it’s within the range. But it doesn’t bother me!
Got Computer Cameron on, and made a needed graphic. Then started on updating the Friday blog. Thins went reasonable well, ailment-wise!
Got it completed and sent off to WordPress. Emailed the links. Pinterested a while. Had a long, but enjoyable bash on TFZer and Winwood Heights Facebooking’s. Visited the WordPress Reader section. Then, off to get the ablutions done.
Farcicalisation comes to mind. It was to be just a stand-up job, else I might miss the Iceland delivery (A farce in itself, tell you about further on) and it was too early to use the shower anyway. But as you will see, things didn’t go according to plan!
The first thing, I found, was that I needed the Porcelain Throne to be utilised! Boy, had Constipation Konrad made a comeback! Agano would not be too a severe word to describe what I went through, or rather, what went through me! Hahaha! I thought it was going to be one of those grinding marathon sessions again, I got the crossword 
book out. But things fooled me, all of a sudden, things moved of their own accord… I had visions of my body being found, split into two halves! Blimus, the most hurtful evacuations ever! But it doesn’t bother me!
Silver-Lining Search Result: At least if I could rush the cleaning up, I could still have time to sort the black backs to the chute before the Iceland van arrived. The feet didn’t look too bad, but the discomfort was!
The gums were bleeding, I got a bit too enthusiastic in my rushing the brushing. Tsk! The dropsies weren’t too bad, mind. The razors had a few flying off trips. The three shaving cuts were spread about. When I tried to cut the hairs behind the ear lobes, one nick on each side, and when I caught one, yes, caught one razor, as it shot out of my other hand, I sliced a tiny bit of of my finger end. Damned bad luck at the end, I dried, deodoranted and dressed, and Dizzy Dennis paid me a call, as I was going through the door, clouting my right shoulder on the frame.
Now, this has kicked Shuddering Shoulder Shirley into action! Which is currently making typing a bit of a task. But it doesn’t bother me! I’m fed-up listening to myself moaning. A closer look at the toes and feet in the front room showed that the ulcer had died down a lot, far less inflamed. The nails need attention, I must ask Deana if she can ring the clinic for me on Monday.
I got the waste bags made up, and took the three to the waste chute on the walker-guide trolley. Both lifts are now working as well. Although not in use.
Back to Cameron, and on WordPressing. Half-an-hour or so later, the Intercom rang. I limped to the panel, and it was not working! I got the feeling, that if I was to snuff-it soon, the other tenants might hold a long-distance party… I feel sure my abysmal luck is spreading throughout the fabric of the building! What next is going to break-down?
It was the Iceland driver, bless him, he kept trying to ring, but there was no response to the accept button, and the screen did not show anything or any voices heard. I gt a jacket on, to rush down (rush? hahaha! I am a fool!). But the door chimed out, someone had let the bloke in. He told me that a colleague of his could not get in earlier either! As I said, what next? The lad left the stuff near the door and shot off, he didn’t look too happy, and I don’t blame him.
The freezer and fridge were chockablock now! I got some of the Jersey Royal new potatoes in the slow-cooker, added some Hickory flavouring.
Then back on Cameron, starting this post off. After three hours or so, and the same amount of SFRTFC (Strong-Forceful-Reluctant-To-Finish-Cloudy) wee-wees, I got one of the Rocket Sours iced lollies from the freezer, and started to suck it vigorously! Lovely-jubbly! No taste to it mind, but it was cold and fizzy, highly acceptable! If this heat stays with us, I can’t see these lollies lasting long. Hehe!
The thermometer gave a reading of 34c indoors. I’m sure it must have been hotter outside. I took what was left of the sucker with me out into the balcony, which I thought was a good idea, to open a window and take some shots of the divine weather…
I went arse-over-tip on the first step over the raised door gliders! And what a kerfuffle!
I put my hands out in front of me to lessen the fast-arriving im[act with the wooden slated running boards… the iced lollipop disappeared the slats, never to be seen again! I instinctively tried to grab between the gaps, and I got a splinter in the same finger I’d sliced with the razor earlier… But it didn’t bother me!
Then, the Herculean task of getting back up again, which was handicapped by my trousers falling down! You couldn’t make it up! I was more bothered about anyone seeing me in this pickle than the pains I was in! Gluglegnatsworth!
Stil on my aching stinging knees, I crawled out of view back into the flat. What are the odds of someone seeing this little contretemps from another balcony? I cringed at the thought! But it doesn’t bother me!
I got myself sorted out. Getting back on my feet awkwardly, and banging the right knee and stubbing a toe! Cribblebogangonies! But it didn’t bother me!
It seemed that the braces had become unclipped during the tumble. I bravely tried to look nonchalant, and got the camera and wandered (Carefully!), back out to the balcony. I got the camera and scanned all the balcony’s in view, but didn’t see anyone in their p[od. (Fingers crossed) I took some shots of the folks below.
I must have caught the selector-wheel, cause one came out a different size and shape than the other? This dog above on the left is the one I names ‘Yappy’. His bark could be heard by me, all the way up here on the 12th-floor, and without my hearing aids in! I took a picture of the housing straight ahead. It looked almost like a painting? But the sunshine of strong in reality, but not in the resulting photo?
I took a photo of the puff clouds, and wallowed in the sunshine, leaning against the sharp edges on the balcony windows, and began to feel someone settled, almost at peace with the world. The warmth, the lack of breeze, and sounds of dogs and kids, but no vehicles… It felt so good to just relax…
Of course, the landline burst into sounds and flashes! No blooming rest for the wicked! I got back in, still moving wearily, and it was Sister Jane on the line. They (The Hospital) were keeping Pete in, ready for another biopsy by a specialist on Tuesday I think she said.
He’s got a television supplied and a laptop, they bring him newspapers when he wants one, has a choice of meals and is in a sideward with just two beds! But, it doesn’t bother me! In the stroke ward, it was packed solid with patients, some on trolleys, often I didn’t get a meal at all, the night staff always came and opened the window wide, which was right next to my bed, and they threw me out three weeks too early cause they needed the bed for an emergency. The ambulance staff threw me in a wheelchair, and left some of my stuff behind, but took some belonging to the chap in the next bed with me! I got put in a care home, full of patients who were not fully with it. Even there, one day, I didn’t get fed! Attempted stabbing, fights, I had to make a witness statement to the police… But it didn’t bother me! I’m not jealous, oh, no!
Jesting aside, (Not that the above incidents are not genuine!) I bet poor old Pete is bored rigid in hospital. His arm is deflating, so he even has no pains to distract. He’s always been an active bloke and is not too keen on medical institutions. I wonder if I dare nip out to see him? No, I’d better not. Knowing my luck the trousers would drop down in the sideward. Hahaha!
Nosh time. Bit of a heavy load, but I ate it all up. Not that it was very good, though. The garden peas were alright. Taste Rating: 5/10.
Got the pots pans and me washed up.
I got down earlier than ever, to watch some TV, with the aim of nodding off and getting caught up with some sleep.
Fat Chance! The ticker was racing away, the Thought Storms attacked, and after a few hours of failing to get to sleep, I couldn’t even manage any nod-off moments, plenty of rising for a wee-wee episode, mind. I decided to get back up and get Computer Cameron going to update this blog. And of course, escape the thought-storms.
Well, pickle my walnuts! My luck-status was confirmed!
So many things have bought injustices, jealousies and failures on my behalf today, I’m sick of my own whinging! All the lights were out on the Virgin box. I went through the usual procedures; pressed the reset button – Nope! Turned of the computer and rebooted – Nope! Turned off the power to everything, restarted computer and the Liberty-Global Virgin Media box, Nope! Things looked bleak!
I went for a drink of orange juice, the evening horizon looked worthy of photographicalisationing, so I did! For some reason, this shot reminded me of a Clint Eastwood Italian Western.
Still no Liberty-Global Virgin Media, but the box was actually now flashing two lights!
I went on to CorelDraw, and made up a Coronavirus Humour Graphic. This took about an hour to get done. Hello, three lights on Liberty-Global Virgin Media box now, things are looking up! I saved the graphic to the hard drive for later use and had another wee-wee (The orange tint was back).
Aha, four of the five Liberty-Global Virgin Media lights on now. So, I tried again to access the web… Great! I’m in! Slow going, but still!
I found the latest figures for Nottingham. These facts were being published regularly, but now they are hidden in sub-texts and different sections. Likely a Government ploy, as the figures are still rising overall, but now, in Nottingham anyway, more deaths in care homes, more than in Hospitals for the first time. Huh, I’m a cheer-chappie today, ain’t I?
Got on with the updating of this blog again. Then went back on CorelDraw to see if I could find inspiration for more graphics to use.
Harrumph! I give up trying to sleep cause I just can’t do it, and now I find myself falling asleep at the computer!
I went on Facebooking for a while.
I’d better get this finished off, checked and posted.
To the kitchen, the light glowed on my plump but skinny limbed imitation-body. 
I wondered what I might have been doing during the night. 
I got the China mug of Thompsons Punjana tea made and sphygmomanometerised myself. The Sys had crept back up a smidge. 
There were a couple of shaving nicks
Now, I was feeling a little upbeat. But with my recor
Then I had an idea (It has been known before, although rare), for a funny ode about life and how I felt at the moment. So, I started creating it in CorelDraw with graphics. Four hours later, I got it finished and posted off. Here’s the link if you haven’t seen it yet folks: 
So, I got the sarnies made up, added some onions, gherkins, too many tomatoes (getting short on em now, I’ll ration them, Haha!) bread-thins sarnies with Sopocka, Marmite cheese and rice cakes. Taste: 7.2/10
My last photo was taken, as I did the washing up, and then settled in search of some sleep. 
02:15hrs: Having had a wee-wee-less sleep, I returned to the land of the imitational-living, in need of one. The toes, ankles and feet were not enamoured with my getting my overly stomach-burdened body
Which resulted in an embarrassing leakage en route. Saved by having the PPs on, from a severe ‘wetting of the wet room’, the wee-wee, was of a cloudy and pale SS (Short-Sharp) variety. Proper washing of specific areas, change of PPs, and off to the kitchen. (No indications of the heavy-duty Porcelain Throne being needed) 
Put Computer Connie in sleep mode, and got the ablutions started. 
By gum, it went well! Unbelievably so! No gum bleeding! Only two dropsies of the soap! No toothpaste or brush dropping! No, I say, No, Shaving cuts! Amazing! Shirley and Nicodemus both in an excellent calmed down mood.
Mind you, I can’t say the same about my attempt afterwards, to try and get the ankle support strap on! That was a failed, painful attempt. A short but discountenancing involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance had me over on the floor! Bungle-Grumplewuncks. Banged my back against the floor cabinet, and ever since, I’ve had back Back-Pain-Brenda giving me gip! 
The legs seem to be getting even more clear of the Clopidogrel inspired blobs and blotches. Not complaining, mind, just mentioning it.
Got the nosh made up, and on the tray. I wish I’d known how nice the skinless sausages were going to be, too late to add any to the Iceland order any now. Maybe not a bad thing, I’ve plenty of other sausage-based food in the fridge. 
02:00hrs: I woke in a confused state of mind, even had to concentrate on recalling where I was and what day was dawning! 
The damned ankle gave way, and I did a backwards tumble back into the recliner again! 
The next hour or so was not very pleasant, and most uncomfortable and taxing. The hobble to the wet room for the wee-wee and cleansing and medicating of the exsanguinating body parts. The wee-wee was an embarrassment in itself; As the blood came along with the evacuation, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters packed up, making things spray all over the place! Silver-Lining-Findings: None!
I had to do some graphics on CorelDraw, which I enjoy doing, even when they are urgently needed. 
I got the nosh sorted out and served up. The vegetables, fresh leeks and canned garden peas were perfect! The beef slices tasteless, the potatoes alright, the tomatoes nice, and the lemon mousse good. The extra gravy I made, was not so good, too bland, don’t know how I went wrong. Taste: 7.5/10, and that was just because the veg was delicious. 
03:55hrs: After a decent sleep (5 hours! Yes!) and not having a single interruption for a wee-wee (Good innit?), I slowly got my body assessed, and the brain joined me a few moments later, with the realisation that I needed a wee now, urgently! So, the usual persnickety struggle getting out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, uncomfortable, not working, rickety-recliner was performed (With a lot less bother and pain than usual, too. Oh, yes!), and fumbled my way to the wet room. 
This was a riskier business than expected. Walking was more challenging than it had been for many a month, if fact, since the stroke. The right ankle was weak when walking, and I was nervous about is giving way again, like it did yesterday. I took the ankle strap with me, to have a go at fitting it. No chance, too complicated for me, and overly painful manipulating it. Grumbleshaggles! Still, the SSWW (Short-Sharp-Wee-wee) went well enough.
I carefully made my way to the kitchen, made a brew of my beloved Thompsons Punjana tea. And did the health checks and took the morning medications. 
The sys was 144, Dia 69, Pulse 87, and temp 31.8°c (89.2f). That looks better to me. I took an extra painkiller, the feet, right ankle, and toes are a bit much to contend with at the moment! Glory be and praise the Lord, at least Arthur Itis’s knees were a lot easier today. Can’t win ’em all! ♫ Look on the bright side of life, bum
So, in agony after the hour’s worth of frustration and failure get the support-straps to fit, then finding it was too painful to wear, then going through more suffering in taking it off. And stubbing my poor old overgrown nailed toes against the edge of the wet room door as I exited! I was approaching the darkness again! 
Light at the End of the Tunnel Search Result: 
Eventually, I got started on with my ablutions. All went remarkably well. No teeth or gum bleeding! Only one shaving nick. The dropsies were only about six. All in all, a change of fortunes mayhaps? (No, you’re right!)Â 
returning, he had found a can of antiperspirant in the box and had come back to give it to me. Kind of him that! Thanks. After over an hour, I’d got the foods put away. 
I espied some dogs taking their owners for a walk, down in the bottom field below the tree copse. The little white and black dog had one hell of a loud bark on him! 
Jenny that I would be down soon to drop off the tissues. 
The hobbling was painful in the extreme, but okay with the use of the guide. Getting out through the door with the three-wheeler had to be done with care. I avoided any knocks and toe-stubbing. 
working. So, it was a while before it arrived.
lobby. 
01:30hrs: Well, I ought to be used to my last few vivifications being out of the ordinary, for various reasons. This morning was two-fold. Starting with the usual urgent need for a wee-wee, then getting free of the £300, second-hand, c1968, not working, cringingly beige-coloured, rusty, rickety recliner and without any Whoopsies or loss of balance! Got the stick and took a wee-wee in the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). The thing that shook me was it being an almost back to the standard style, a short, sharp painful evacuation, and the colour, a sort of battleship grey! 
nd got it sanitised and cleaned, ready for tonight’s episode of: ‘Inchcock and his variable, lethal to moderate, Wee-wees!’ Should I snuff it overnight, would someone please have the vet check pon what killed me. Hahaha! 
Later in the morning, I had a look at the only leaflet the hospital gave me regarding the vein problems. This led me to investigate on the internet. Peripheral Neuropathy (Got-it!), increases the chance of Thrombophlebitis (Got-it!), Deep vein Arterial Thrombosis (Got-it!), Spider veins (Got-’em), Superficial venous thrombosis (phlebitis) (Got-it!), Chronic venous insufficiency (CVI-Got-it!), Iliac, Femoral, Saphenous, Popliteal and Tibial vein problems (Got-them all!). All of which can cause Bacterial or Viral Infections (Got-it!-Little Inchy!) 
I poddled, in a slightly disconnected, uncoordinated state of mind, to the kitchen. I did the sphygmomanometer tests done. Sys 146, Dia 67, Pulse 79, Temperature was just reading ‘Low’. Odd how this works properly occasionally, then it goes back to just giving a low or high indication, again?
Onto the computer. Got the updating done for the Sunday blog. I checked the Emails and came across this gem to cheer me up further. Hahaha! 
room! Hahaha! How the razor got down there is a mystery, too. 
coming back I reckon. 
My plan was to sneak outside and take some photographs. Cunning eh? I got the bags down in the chute room and caught the elevator to ground zero, with the cardboard box and a bag. A woman who was waiting to get in socially distanced herself well from me. I went through the caretaker’s (Who were not there) passage and out to the bins. But the bins were not there. So I put them with other peoples waste and shut the door locked behind me, as I had a trolley-guided hobble, taking some photographs en route. 
I spotted a wonder of nature. Well, they are for me. Some Daisies near the workmen’s porta-cabins. 
I limped along until I was facing the main Winwood Court entrance, and took a photo of it. The only thing missing up until now for the pictures was people.
electric vehicle charging bay. Couldn’t see any connections linked to it. 
I took a long time, well, it felt like it, but the hassle and weakness seemed to settle down. I was confident enough to press on again. 
I hobbled to the far end of Chestnut Walk, and turned to take this wide shot, and guess what? 
Got the three-wheeled trolley-guide into the corner. I just sucked at the cut knuckle that I caught on the door frame doing it. Humph!
04:00hrs: I woke up, for about the twentieth time, in imperative need of another wee-wee. I was out of the £300, second-hand, rickety recliner swiftly. I caught my balance, grabbed the stick, and hobbled over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). 
I found the bucket, too full to risk using again. And miraculously, I carried the bucket, and the walking stick, to the wet room, and arrived in time to avoid any leakages en route! A certain amount of smugness was gleaned from this little victory! 
155, Dia 69, Pulse 72 and temperature showing as just ‘Low’. Sys reading is a bit high. 
Unflappably, I just put the computer in sleep mode, and went and got two black bags made up, and limped to the waste chute with them. Returned to the apartment, and looked in the fridge to decide what to have for me nosh later on. 
I gave up, turned everything off, and tended to making up my own dinner. 
Got the plastic plate piled up with pretty fodder, and poddled to the recliner to digest the decent looking pot-luck, potlatch. Overall Taste-Rating: 5/10. 
Got the washing up done, and nipped to the wet room for freshen up. I took this photo of the just above the belly button burn mark, I got last night, and recall taking it to make up a funny idea I had for a graphic. But blown if I can remember what my idea was now! Something about a black hole?
Many get-ups for a wee-wee again. Not easy having so many, in my physical state. I’m concerned that the walking stick ferrules will wear down to a frazzle! Hehehe! 
02:50hrs: Woke finding I had a touch of involuntary Clinomania. I must have nodded off five or six times, waking, nodding repeatedly. On the final awakening, the 
Things activated, by Trotsky Terence, I had no in part how things went, the moment I got seated. All over in seconds, but a mess like never before had to be sort and cleaned afterwards. The cistern did not cope with clearing things and had to be flushed a few times, and buckets of water added, to assist it! Cor Blimey, worra struggle! 
I sat to get the computer going, and two things registered with the grey-cell box. The feet and toes started stinging ‘after’, I’d sat down and taken my weight off of them? Secondly: T
What an absolutely cheer-making, super-duper, crackerjack, unbelievable, corking, almost bleeding, Whoopsiedangleplop and Accifauxpa-free session! 
Cleaning the teeth, I began to think that I had slipped back in time somehow, and did not have the stroke, Peripheral Neuropathy, Toothache, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Ane Gyna, Reflux Roger or Shaking Shaun at all! 
The teeth cleaning was completed without any droppings, or gum bleeding! Fair enough, the shaving did bring a few of both, but still just two knicks and three razor dropsies. 
Now, when it came to the medicating, I was expecting the ailments to produce painful, pestering-predicaments and perhaps the odd agonistic moment. But, No! Even Little Inchies removal of the crusted blood, produced next to no blood when the usually horrendously hurtful applicating of the Daktacort was done, there was hardly any stinging at all! I wanted to cry with joy, laugh out loud… But how can this happen? To me, with my luck? Better make the most of it, I thought!
Amazingly, the miracles of this morning had not finished. For after cleaning up the chair and glide, and checking myself over, the only part of my anatomy giving me any real grief was the shoulder, and both Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna had kicked off. Could have been so much worse! The legs were fine, although the feet and toes were stinging.
pay for, if available, a fully waterproof wristlet alarm, that I can wear when washing or showering, just in case this happens again. 
I made a brew and remembered to do the morning medications I’d forgotten about earlier. I think the HP readings were good, considering what I’d just gone through. The thermometer worked for once, showing a 33.3° I must say the tastes nice in these mugs that Jenny gave me ♥.
Back to the computer, Duodenal Donald calming down now. 
I checked on the Amazon email. Now it tells me that the Clementine juice is expected to be delivered twixt today and Tuesday? No tracker on it, though? Suspicions aroused! But I can go to the site on Wednesday for a refund? Mmm? 
The intercom rang, luckily I was on my way for yet another wee-wee, and I heard it. T’was the Iceland delivery arriving. 
The chap arrived, and asked me how I put up with all the noise? Which confused me a tad. I got the bags into the kitchen. 
There seemed a lot of things on that order. So, I went through them and soon realised I was going to have problems with getting all the items in the freezer. And a bit of ingenuity was going to be needed if I was to get them into the available space. 
If anyone in the flats would like them, first come, first given. I’ll take a photo of them, so you know what they are. Hang on a tick! Here they are. 
The injured shoulder was getting a bit more bothersome, so I made a brew, and took an extra Codeine 60mg. I’ll skip the evening one, don’t want to take too many. 
Back again top the computing. The warm williwaw winds were still howling. I shut the balcony door, but could still hear it. It must be bad for anyone with good hearing. 
I grabbed at the few fish lumps from the floor to retrieve them, hitting my already injured shoulder against the stove. Inspected the food, and decided it would do, and began to put the salvaged fodder on the plate… Argh! The message had belatedly got through to the brain, that I had burnt my wobbly-over-fleshed tummy! Hahaha! 
A can of the San Benedetto, Prima Sremitura Clementina drink. What a mouthful! Haha!
I’d got a thin quilt over my naked, anaemic, ailment tortured, aching, phenomenally heavy and flobby-stomached body. But it had to come off, the fibre on the material was catching of the overgrown Howard Hughes-like painful toenails.
But thankfully, my growths are not that bad… yet! I must try again to find someone to cut the nails for me. I’ll inquire (if I can get an answer this time), at the Sherwood Health Centre on Elmswood Gardens to see if they are open for feet treatment again after the lock-down.