Friday 1st May 2020
Finnish: Perjantai 1 Toukokuuta 2020
03:45hrs: A zombie woke instead of me this morning…, Oh no, that was me! Hehehe! As I morphed back into reality; as if to validate this, the need for the Porcelain Throne. Which pressured me, to do battle with my gross, nauseatingly, flabby-stomached body. To free it from the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, grungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner. The one that bullying xyrophobia-suffering, pools and lottery winner, Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. He searched for my valuables, which he found and took, (I still haven’t got them all back yet eight-months later), and broke the recliner while Pete was counting the money he was robbing me of. Still, he gave me a lift in his jam-jar from the hospital to the nursing home when the Stroke Ward kicked me out cause they needed the bed. As Pete said, someone had to pay for the petrol that was used. I’m wandering off subject again, sorry.
Off to the wet room, the feet and toes were painful, just as well that Arthur Itis was not in a bad mood, and Dizzy Dennis along with Shaking Shaun were both taking a tea-break I think. The session was enough to take my mind off of the toes – such as the severity of the evacuation. Constipation Conrad was still in control. Taking the rough with the smooth, Little Inchies fungal lesion, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not bleeding, so fair enough!
I meandered carefully to the kitchen, got the kettle on and took the medications along with a glass of Movicol, to hopefully ease and encourage Constipation Conrad to loosen up a bit.
Onto the computer, and did a Thought poem and graphic first. Then uploaded some GeoSlab fonts, and tried to take some others off, but they were protected-system fonts and would not let me. Tsk!
Then I got on with updating the Thursday Diary, which was achieved a little easier this morning, due to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters not going down anywhere near as often as they usually do? I was baffled about this, but happy!
The monotonous ‘Hum’ actually got louder again. Grrr! What it must be like for anyone with reasonable hearing, I dread to think?
I finished the post and Emailed the links. Put a few pictures on Pinterest. I was about to read the comments, and it was suddenly as if someone had turned on a giant light outside. I drew back the curtains, half expecting to see a giant alien craft hovering with laser lights on the earth (Hahaha!), instead there in all its glory, was a massive rainbow low in the sky! Being at 280ft, plus the height of the block of flats up to the 12th floor. And above sea level here in the block. I could not get to photograph all of the rainbows in one go, shame!
I tried my best taking photographs from the kitchen window and the balcony. Here are the best of them – Beautiful view and petrichor!
I’m so glad that I took these, even though they are not all that good, cause the chimaera crescent soon faded, and along with it the wonderful earthy smell of the petrichor. Had my cyber-pal Tim Price been here with his camera, I’d have loved have seen his photographs of them. Still, while it lasted, it cheered my soul.
How I wish I could bottle the after-rain smell and send you some. It only lasted for a short while.
A sprinkling of rain started after I’d took the sky pictures as if it was trying to keep the rainbow on view. I took three photographs through the bottom of the windows in the balcony around the flat.
The end car park to the right-hand side.
Directly under in front of the balcony car parking.
Then to my left, along Chestnut Walk.
I mused on all the folk beneath, most isolated in their apartments, and imagined what they were all doing, thinking planning, or hoping for. It would be nice to be able to ring them on the intercom; like we could on the old ones that were replaced with this new one, that folks cannot hear when in rings.
I made another brew and took a Senna tablet. And got a large potato put in the small crock-pot cooking for later.
I was still dreaming and remembering the beauty of that rainbow. My not concentrating.
Oh, dearie me again! I dropped the milk jug as Nicodemus caught me out with his first real dying-a-death off the nerve-ends. So, it was a good job I bought two more replacements a few months ago, and I cleaned up the mess, struggled back up on my feet, and got the new one out to use. I made a fresh cuppa. Cursed and admonished my self! Then back on the computer, to check the emails before starting this blog going.
The thought-storming began, and hours were lost into the ether. What took place over the next few hours, may never be revealed, the memories either, not recorded, or drifted off into a black-hole.
I got the nosh prepared and served up. Eating it was a little vague, but I found scribbled notes that I had difficulty in reading later.
It appears I gave this an 8/10 for taste.
I sort of came back into a responsive, reactive frame of mind as I was washing the pots. The mood was not depressive, just lackadaisical.
I checked that I had turned off the taps, plugs etc. and the computer, check! As I got stripped and down in the recliner, I noticed I’d gathered some nibble pots around the chair, mini-cheddars and yoghourt coated cashew nuts. (I’d missed the evening medications, but was not aware until the morning)
I was suddenly overtaken with weariness, and the eyelids drooped. At last, Sweet Morpheous had arrived, but it was filled with tormenting dreams. Ah, well, yer can’t win ’em all!