Inchcockski – Sunday 21st June 2020: Lucubrations, and soliloquizing today. It didn’t help!

TFZer Jillie At her weekend getaway!

Sunday 21st June 2020

Afrikaans: Sondag 21 Junie 2020

02:30hrs: I stirred into mock-life, realised I needed a wee-wee, and dismounted the £300, c1968, second-hand, sickeningly-beige-coloured, none working, ramshackle, uncomfortable in the extreme, rusty, rickety, near-lethal, recliner, I also needed the Porcelain Throne. With Duodenal Donald stabbing at me, and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley getting active, off to the wet room I stumbled.

The Throne session was similar to yesterdays. Quick, not messy, but so painful! After flushing three times, I gave up. I’ll give it another try later. Tsk!

Arthur Itis knees were slowly getting to that early-warning stiffness again. Avast, all ye landlubbers! There be rain, or a storm coming soon! I don’t know why I said that? Hehehe!

Washed the dandies and disinfected the contact points, then off to the kitchen.

The scene outside was showing no signs of any fog or mist, it was beautiful with the scattered lights. I took what I thought with the view on the Canon screen, was a decent picture of the morning view. But no, it came out horrible, as you can see.

Got the kettle on, and did the health checks. The sphygmomanometer readings were pretty good. The thermometer just indicated as ‘Low’. I took the medications, and bad a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and very tasty it was, too! For a few seconds…

The tea leaked out from the mug, onto the tray! Oh dearie me, it was the white mug that I thought had got through the Accfauxpas yesterday, when I dropped it, and it landed between the cooker, and counter.

I made the brew and went to fetch the milk from the fridge, came back and saw the escaping Glengettie Gold tea running out of what was a spider-crack in the mug! Schluberduberski!

Got Computer Cameron going, and checked the Emails first. I’d had a reply from WordPress, to my request to confirm the cancellation of my subscriptions. I’m more confused than ever now. The struggling memory tends to miss things from its own record completely, since the Stroke. Items likely to be lost or distorted, are recent events and new dilemmas, problems or computations.

As I pressed on with the updating of the Saturday post, Duodenal Donald began to ease off. (Bless him!) I got the update finished and posted off in good time. Smug-Mode-Engaged!

I kept having to wee often, too regularly—all of the CMA’s (Cloudy-Mini-Amount) mode. I tried the flusher each visit, but the stubborn toilet paper still floats back on top!

As I started on this blog, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley became more active, but you can’t win ’em all! Struggling along at a snails-pace and ever-correcting mistakes, I realised I’d not sent off the link for the blog, or visited the WordPress Reader yet. So, I started with the WordPress Reader reading.

As I was answering comments, Saccades Sandra kicked off, and I had to stop, my vision was so bad and warped. No Dizzy Dennis, though, just the blurred sight.

I took a break and went to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. Struggling to see to make it safely. I searched for a Saccades spray pot for the eyes. At a total loss as to where it is. I spent nigh-on an hour searching without any luck.

I also needed four trips to the wet room for CMA’s (Cloudy-Mini-Amount) wee-wees! I searched every room. Flushing again each time, the stubborn toilet paper still floated back on top! I had to manually remove it! Balderdashness! 

Back to the kitchenette. As the sky turned dark and foreboding! And few scattered large sized drops of rain started to fall from the heavens. Well, the farmers need it!f

I made the brew and back to Computer Cameron. The blurred vision slowly eased but did not clear altogether. I may have to cancel Josie’s cheesy potato nosh if the eyes don’t clear more. Still, a few hours go yet, time for improvement.

I noticed I had an email from Morrisons come in, so I investigated.

It told me that my delivery had arrived. Not being able to get an order in until Tuesday 30th June, this was puzzling and confused me somewhat. I went on the Morrison site and checked on my orders. There was no record of any delivery today on it. Phew! But is this a scam of some sort, or a cock-up on Morrison’s behalf? Am I going bonkers? Will I be charged? I do not need any more confusing.

The vision seems to have adjusted itself now.

I went on the TFZer, mine, and Winwood Heights Facebooking pages.

Time to get the ablutions done. I realised that I’d not injected the Enoxaparin! So limped to the kitchen and got it done. The weather was really brightening up now.

To the wet room, for the most exciting and varied session, I’ve had in a long time! 

First:

  • I needed to use the Porcelain Throne. Painful and quick again, as the first one. Once again, the flush did not clear the TP.
  • Doing the teeth and Toothache Thomas kicked off!
  • Tried the WC flush, failed to move the TP.
  • The shaving, I felt had gone well. (Huh!)
  • Tried the WC flush, failed to move the TP.
  • Got in the shower, and was having a great time, started at the top and worked my way down.
  • Saccades Sandra went blurry again, but not as bad as earlier on.
  • Tried the WC flush, failed to move the TP.
  • Coming out of the shower…

  • Oh, ‘ecky thump! I noticed the blood running down my chest and had an investigation.
  • It was the tiniest little cut on the ear lobe, not even the size of a pinhead!
  • Dabbed it with some after-shave, that did the trick. Made me jump, mind! 
  • Tried the WC flush, failed to move the TP. I got it out manually and rang it out, then wrapped it in a bag, and put it in the waste bin.
  • I still couldn’t find spray for the eyes anywhere.
  • But I did find a part tube of Germoloid when I search down behind the floor cabinet. (Thank heavens for Jenny’s picker-upperer ♥)
  • Got the PPs on without any difficulty.
  • Putting in the earhole’s olive oil, the pot, shot out of my hand, hit the wall and splashed into the toilet bowl! Grobbleknangles!
  • As I was leaving the room, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Saccades Sandra combined forces to ensure that I hit the right shoulder and arm on the door frame! More bruises to display!

Nowt proper serious happened. But it would have gone down well on Candid camera? Hehehe! It could even be used as a script for a comedy sketch? Also, as I nursed my shoulder and went to get the pain gel out in the kitchen, I had to smile to myself.

I set about preparing Josie’s cheesy potato nosh. 50-minutes later I was delivering it to her on the tray. I forgot to photo it, Damnations! Still, she liked the look of it. Cod in batter, silverskin onions, gherkins, quartered tomatoes, surimi sticks, beetroot, and sliced mushrooms. With Marmite and Babybell cheese portions, lemon mousse. And a can of pink gin and tonic.

She offered me some chocolates, and I had to remind her of my diabetes, and kindly decline her kind offer. I told her she doesn’t have to give me anything, just for her to enjoy the food, that’s enough, all I want.

As I struggled back in the apartment door, I found an official-looking envelope on the floor. ♫ Dang, dang, dang… Dang! ♫ I opened it straight away, it was the AgeUK insurance renewal for the flat contents. Sixteen double-sided, A4 pages! Oh, dear! I must remember to ask Warden Deana tomorrow, to phone them for me when I beg her to try to get me an appointment with the Sherwood Health Centre, podiatrist again, at Elmswood Gardens! I pray that I’ll remember! I’m leaving the letter out near the TV and telephone.

I made an impulse move towards doing the washing, but stopped myself! There’s no point in doing them until I get my nosh ready. As I am having the left-overs from Josie’s nosh. I’ve got it all planned out what I’m going to have.

I’ll reheat the cheesy potatoes in the oven. Some mushrooms leftover, and some surimi-fish sticks, tomatoes and Marmite cheese.

I was going to reheat a portion of battered fish, but I forgot to turn off the oven after serving the meal, and it didn’t look too appetising to me! Hahaha!  I’ll make do with the surimi. Not really feeling very hungry yet, anyway.

I got on the computer and updated this diary up to here.

The precipitation pelted down, yet despite its ferocity, it was over in a few minutes, and the sun tried to get through. Too many clouds for a rainbow methinks.

Then I went on CorelDraw, to do some graphics for, and create tomorrow’s post template. Got a couple done, still more needed, but needs must, my phagomania forced food to the fore of my feather-brain.

Not one of better, indeed one of my worst meals ever. I’d got so many things wrong with the cooking and prep work, I threw more of it away than what I ate!

Unsatisfactory Areas:

  • Oversalted the spuds! The worst I’ve ever made in my life! (Shame, disgrace, my reputation as a Cheesy Potato-maker, shattered!)
  • Undercooked the mushrooms.
  • The Iceland chicken slices were like cardboard, but less tasty!
  • The tomatoes were bitter, acidy!
  • The new potatoes, well, they reminded me of cotton-wool buds!

This bothered me, not for myself, but poor Josie was served with the same cheesy potatoes. I must apologise to her in the morning.

However, the lemon mousse and apple pie were both delightful.

I got the pots washed, and put Computer Cameron to bed. Then settled my oleaginous, ponderosity, of a flabby-stomached body in the c1968 recliner. I got the Kitchen Nightmare programme on to watch, and the room almost lit-up as it came on. The sun had suddenly appeared through the clouds, almost instantly.

I picked up the camera, and as I stood up, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, (with her worst-damage control timing as perfect as ever) attacked. Causing my hand to go down between the chairs. I now have a slight swelling on two of my finger knuckles. Granglesknockersbuggerit!

I fumbled my way to the kitchen window and took these nephograms of the wonderfully moody looking clouds in the sky. I did a bit of nephelococcygia seeking, finding a few shapes of interest.

Took a wee-wee, and got my head down again.

Sleep was resistant again. But sweet Morpheus did arrive later, and for some reason not understood to me, when I was interrupted for wee-weeing needs, I got up and went to the wet room each of the at least four times overnight. Why I did not get the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) in use, remains another mystery. Incidentally, all of the wee-wees were of the unexpectedly SPUTE (Sharp-Persistent-Unwilling-To-End) mode.

Hey-Ho!

4 thoughts on “Inchcockski – Sunday 21st June 2020: Lucubrations, and soliloquizing today. It didn’t help!

  1. Going Van Gogh on us trying to cut off your ear? I think you need to give up on shaving and become a wooly, wild looking man. Too bad the food didn’t do well. I think Jose will understand.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hahahaha! Wild Man of the Woods! An old Tony Hancock radio episode from 1959, Tim, it came to mind as I read your comment. I’d still laugh at it now.
      Can you recall a cowbot film, with a bloke who looked like, but I’n not sure if it was, Victor Mature, playing an Indian chief, shaving with a dirty great big ten-inch knife? You brought that to mind as well, Sir.

      Josie was alright, as you anticipated, Tim.

      Shuddering Shoulder Shirley messing things up today, Tsk! Stubbed toe the result! Argh!

      Veins back up, Clopidogrel lumps and bruises… ah! Its good to be back to normal!
      Take care, please. TTFNski

      Liked by 1 person

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