Saturday 1st August 2020 

Xhosa: Ngomgqibelo Umhla Wokuqala Ku-Agasti Ka-2020

05:40hrs: I woke, I coughed, I passed wind, and clambered with an iota panic-stricken, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, musty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy-yet-tottery, rickety recliner. Got hold of the four-pronged stick, tested Arthur Itis’s left knee-cap, it was still attached, and off I limped to the wet room.

I felt my balance was not yet settled, and still, I walked into the main room door frame, and the poor-old right shoulder suffered again! But, no point in my getting bothered, pain, and all that, I recovered and pressed on, still unsure if I would get to the Throne in time.

No problem with the timing. The evacuation was back to what had been normal lately. The innards-controlled flow started, then stopped – I picked up the crossword book automatically, and delved into the clues. What seemed like many minutes later (I’d got three clues solved! Hehe!), things began moving again, in a wailfully painful mode!

It’s not necessarily a bad thing, this stop-start stuff on the Porcelain Throne in a morning, you know! The Diabetes insipidus, Post-Micturition Pre & After-Dribbling were not a problem as it trickled and dripped, while I was seated, like a Little Tubby Lord Fauntleroy. (Haha!)

The only fretting coming from the session; was the amount of bleeding. It didn’t look anything like the usual vibrant red, as Harold’s Haemorrhoids leaks usually are?

I cleaned up and medicated things, and I made the way to the kitchen! Taking a snap as I went carefully through the doorway, thus, avoiding any more collisions. The upcoming sunshine from behind the flats lit up the far land-line.

I got the kettle on the boil and blow-me-down-with-a-feather-duster, I had to return to the wet room for another a wee-wee! Tsk!

I forbore from any PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) because I’d made my way to the bowl as soon as I got a message from the bladder. Had I decided to finish making the mug of tea and then go for the wee-wee, I’m sure I would have had some embarrassment! The main-stream was surprisingly powerful and persistent. But the AMD still took longer to stop than the actual urinationalisticalising did!

Still, the pins, although looking bloodless, didn’t feel so painful this morning.  Slightly less bothersome. I wish I could say the same for my balance. Hey-ho!

It’s no wonder that I can’t get anything done! Marathon Porcelain Throne visits, now mega-long the PMD and AMD slowing things up even more! The tumbles; that can take ages to get back up from! Housework, what bit I can manage. Walking and banging into things! Shaking Shaun, Saccade-Sandra, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, Diabet… oh, never mind, moaning’s not going to improve anything. Bit of a self-pitying-chunter, slipped in, there, Sorry! Naughty Inchcock!

I cleaned things up again and returned to the kitchen. Made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and did the Health Checks. Sorted out the puzzling three tablets of the same size in the dosage pots, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, who failed on their promise not to put the Furesomide in the pots, but in a box in my monthly prescriptions.

But I bear no malice, hatred, disgust, revulsion, loathing, or desire for execrations towards the antisocial, Inchcock-Hating, Sneering, uncompassionate, superior-acting, uncaring, insensitive, heartless, obdurate, oblivious to damage they are doing,  the callous swine! Oh, no!

I’m not sure why, but I seem to be going almost into a depressional grip, minutes later I’ll be singing to myself, with hints of the Joys-of-Spring in the air, then back down in the pits. Mmm! Bonkersness, or Senility? Or both!

I got on the computer and really bamboozled myself again, just like last Saturday, I think. I was jumping from CorelDrawing, blogging, and back again repeatedly, forgetting what I had been on moments before. And getting annoyed with my self about it! An awful lot of effort, for little return. Schluberdubski!

I got around to creating a template for tomorrow’s post. Then, I went of to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana.

I took this shot of the houses in front of the building from the light & view-blocking, new kitchen window. Typically, by the time I’d got the camera out, the sunshine had withdrawn. Back to the computer, and it came out again!

So I popped into the balcony and took this photograph. As the sun rose later, it grew to what is now a lovely summers day.

As I was working on the keyboard, making decent progress for the first time, Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters ruined the enjoyment by their dying-off and coming back-on regularly!  Granglesbognessbuggerit!

So, I had to stop and went for yet another mug of tea, Extra-Strong Assam, this time.

I took these snaps on the right, to capture the almost perfect weather for the youngsters and those lucky to be adequately fit enough, have an amble in the bottom field. 

Who? Me? Jealous? No, never! Unglefrogwogglings!

The clouds in the sky were so different from yesterday, even prettier.

About to close the window, and I spotted some regular visitors, down in the field. I’ve seen the chap, he’s been out twice a day since Monday. Gathering blackberries (Rubus ursinus). He either has a taste for them or sells them on? Hahaha! And the Yap-Yap dogs were out, walking their owner. I could hear distinctive yapping, 12-floors up. I love to watch these dogs on their walk. So full of energy, madly shaking tail, and none-stop running and sniffing around, bless ’em!

Nicodemus was still playing up, so I went on the WordPress Reader section, some great photographs on there today. Then on Facebooking to catch up.

Dizzy Dennis and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, along with Anne Gyna, have now joined forces to put an end to me doing very much. I’m going to see how I go making an early meal, take some pain-killers, and get settled in the chair.  Sod-it, Dizzy Denis is back too now!

I made the quotidian feast. It took me a long time, cause I made cheesy potatoes, and seemed to be forever washing up bits splashed and dropped, and applying Germolene to the many bits of my fingers I burnt, getting the baked mixture out of the oven, was the only bad singe, and that was on the overabundant belly, near the button. Hehe! Klutz!

I got down in the dang-wangled c1968 recliner to eat the meal and watched FA Cup Final on the box. Just before the kick-off, my EQ told me the score would be 2-1, unequivocally! And it was, but I thought it would be to Chelsea, but Arsenal won it. Three bookings, a sending off, and for the first time ever, a manager was booked in a Wembley Cup Final!

Then drifted off into the Land of Nod! I woke later, and Dizzy Dennis was back. (The Git!) I carefully made my way to get the ablutions done. And, very well, they went, too! The toothache was only the tiniest bit bothersome. The shaving had a few dropsies and only one nick. The showering, a few short visits from Dizzy Dennis, but no injuries, and one showerhead-dropping. One of the least harassing and most injury-free ablutions session for ages!

The medicationalisationing and freshening up went alright, a few dropsies, the Germolene tube, pain-gel tube (2), and the cap off-off the Cortisone cream. I have yet to find that!

Getting the PPs on, lost a bit of balance, and scraped my ankle on the corner of the floor cabinet.

I think I might have said something to the tune of, ‘Oh, how irritating, that was!’ Ahemski!

The Deep Vein Thrombosis lumps were protruding more than usual? The pins had a little more colour, though.

I took a photo of the evening skyling. Then I got the towel on the stand-up dryer, made a brew, and took the evening medications. Onto Computer Cameron, to update this post.

The earlier faster typing-pace was thwarted, by regular visits from Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. Grogglebotchwitches! Hours later, I sent this off to WordPress, turned off the computer, and crawled into the c1968 recliner. Still having Dizzy Dennis moments! Humph!

Adieu, Mon Amis!