Inchcock Today – Monday 17th August 2020: A befuddling day!

TFZers: Filming at the Cool-It-Cabin? ♥

Monday 17th August 2020

Sethoso: Mantaha Oa La 17 Phato 2020

03:35hrs: I woke, in a vague cloak surrounding me. Without thinking of anything, really, yet everything at the same time.

I rose and got to the GPOEB (Grey-Plastic-Overnight-Emergency-Bucket), and spent a hell of a long time passing a WTPP (Weak-Trickling-Pale-Painful) wee-wee. Last night was the worst night’s sleep in months! I was not really with it at all. At this stage, things seem to be done in an auto-mode fashion. Until the PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribble) started to drizzle a lot more ferociously than usual. Tsk! I went to get my hands washed and free of the droplets. Crinkleblodums!

  Argh! No hot water! I’d left the hot water tap running in the sink! The hot water had made a right mess of the grey bowl. (Incidental, can you see a shape in the cloth in the bowl? I see two). There are times when I feel such an idiot, question my sanity, or hate myself, perhaps just want to cry! Feel dejected and pitiably, pathetically, prostate, with palpations prodding away persistently. Sometimes, rarely, all of these emotions at the same time. This was such an occasion! Skulkclogglebonks!

I was summoned to the Porcelain Throne – and responded with some haste. The sensation from the innards indicated that I was in for a long grind, so I got the crossword book out. In expectancy of a long fight to get the movement started, but I was so wrong. (But this has been known to happen often in the past!) In fact, the pain, to begin with, was chronic, but the sound of a plethoric plump-shaped evacuation, indicated the end of the pain, almost instantly? I was confused. The tennis-ball released, splashed water all over, and mixed with the relief of the discomfort, was a very odd sensation! No bleeding from anywhere, either? I imagine I put on a face that was a mix between Oliver Hardy and Stan Laurel. Hehehe!

I mused over the start to the day I’d had so far. Feeling all vague – had an agonising wee-wee. Found I’d left the hot faucet running, and then had an evacuation like never before. No messages came to me from my EQ either. Had I snuffed it and nobody had told me? Hahaha!

I was undoubtedly still in a puddled, confused state of mind. I went and got the computer on, and realised I had not yet made a mug of tea, took the medications or done the Health Checks? So, I did them. The Sys was well up again, but that may be because I was feeling the way I was, disoriented and finding it hard to concentrate? Took the medications.

As I made my back to the computer, I spotted a sign of nocturnal nibbling having taken place on the Ottoman! On a closer look, I found I’d been writing notes on a pad over-night as well? I couldn’t remember doing any of this. The scribble was not decipherable either. Blimey, I had lost the plot, clearly!

I took a picture of the view, as I hung out of from the thick-framed, rain letting-in, can’t get at to clean, without injuring myself trying to manipulate the step ladders, stubbing my toes and or falling off of the steps, new kitchenette window.

I got a bit mixed up putting the photographs on the web, and somehow they went on WordPress after resizing to suit, in a different order as they were taken. What’s going on! This did the job of updating the blog take longer than ever. But I persevered and stumbled along and got the updating done, thankfully the ailments were being kind to me. (At one point, I wondered if they were as confused as I was this morning?) I got it posted to WordPress, emailed the link, and Pinterested some pictures. Answered a comment.

Then, it was back to the Porcelain Throne again! I was even more caught out by this evacuation. It was not too painful, over quickly and not messy at all! A bit of bleeding, but that is usual for Harold and his Haemorrhoids, I think maybe the furuncles may have contributed somewhat. Tsk!

I started the ablutions, it was late enough for me to have the radio on, BBC Radio Four Extra, and the Navy Lark for half-an-hour while showering. I lost all of my worries and fears while I listened to this old 1961 programme, really enjoyed it.

Not only that, but the legs appeared to be getting some colour back in them, and the knees looked good, well warped! Later, I realised that before the show started, I was having dropsies, cut my gums doing the teggies, and cut myself twice shaving. And the feet, they looked absolutely like a new pair!

In the shower, while listening to the Navy Lark, as far as I can recall, no Dennis Dizzies, dropping the shower-head, soap, flannel, or back scrubber. I didn’t hit my head or any other part of my body, or banging into the grab bars took place at all! Now, this must mean something! There’s a lesson to be learnt here. I’ve no idea what, but still!

I exited the wet room, without walking into anything! And definitely felt regenerated, re-energised somehow. Things were coming together in the brain department.

I decided to sort out the four waste bags, (Kindly accompanied by a few thuds and bangs from Herbert, above). I made-up four black bags, disinfected them and sealed them up. Then got the sizeable white bag of recyclable material prepped and bagged. I went to fetch the ‘Inchcock-put-together’, Amazon bought, three-wheeler walker-guide.

The previously not-working right side brake, and been joined by the left-sided brake, in none-functioning. Grobblegnangles! And the front wheel was reluctant to go round!

I managed to get all the bags onto the ‘needing to be replaced-soon’  four-wheeled trolley. Turned the obstinate, cantankerous wheeled cart to face the front door, and the white carrier bag, split open, and the black bags in it tumbled to the floor!

I just smiled, ignored it, and picked them up with the long picker-upperer, singing calmly to myself… Ahem!

I got the key-fob, out and nipped put along the lift-lobby to the chute room.

Got the black bags down, and caught a lift to the ground floor.

Getting out of the elevator, and seeing the electronic signboard, I had a read of the weather forecast, time, and self-isolating advice, etc.

Not going out over the weekend, Not been anywhere for months now, Humph!) I espied a notice board, for the 14th Floor. It seems that today, the decorators are Floor screeding. And the whole lever is off-limits today!

I was tempted to write at the bottom of the poster: Anyone wishing to have a heart attack, stroke or the like, or die on this day who live on the floor, kindly rearrange it for another day. Thank you. Hahaha!

I took the recycling bag out to the caretakers’ bin and was about to make my way back up to the flat, and I thought, I’d nip outside and take some photographicalisations, being as I had the Canon camera with me.

As I left the Woodthorpe Court main lobby, I snapped the cars at the far end of Chestnut Walk. I started on my little short hobble along the road and took this photo of the now not allowed to be used (Convid-19) cut-through link-passage, from Woodthorpe Court and Winwood Court itself.

A little further on, I snapped this effort, of the frontage of Winwood Court.

I was so sorry to notice the number of cigarette butts scattered all over the main frontage. A bit saddening to see that!

A felt a bit at low seeing this and turned back towards Woodthorpe Court.

I got back in the flat and made an Iceland order. Please let me not have made any mistakes in this one!

Surely I can get one right! Perhaps, maybe, possibly? Hahaha!

Hello, Herberts giving it some hammer again!

I got the oven on to heat up and podded some fresh garden peas. Added some demerara sugar and Balsamic vinegar to the saucepan. Got them sorted, and now I’ll have a search for the lost, shot off into the ether peas. I’m sure at least 10 are in the kitchen, somewhere. Ah, well, I’ve found eight of them, up to now!

Well, the sun has just come out! About time, too!

I restarted this blog updated and then caught up with missed jobs. Starting with the Facebooking updating. Then went on the WordPress Reader section.

The (now daily) sudden weariness came on. I’ll get summat to eat then. Unfortunately, the photo I took of the delicious meal, has gone the way of so many of my pictures do, off into the ether from the SHD card! It was grand and tasty. Surimi, fresh garden peas, fries and tomatoes. Bread thins with Marmite, and Lemon mousse to follow.

The pot washing was done at the right time, for me to get a view of the perfect Pareidolia session. I could see two puppies facing each other!

I got a phone call on the landline. It really got me upset not knowing if it was genuine or not, although I put down the receiver on the suspected recorded message. It went like this: A woman’s voice, slow to start talking: “I am ? ? from Visa, this morning £400 (or £4000) was taken from your account… ” she waffled on without stopping, and I thought this is not real… perhaps a recorded message? I put down the handset. But it’s been bothering me ever since. She did not call back!

I’ve missed lots off of this diary, cause I lost the notes to use after getting the phone call, while I was in panic-mode.

After this, sleep was again an impossibility, and it was well gone midnight before I got off to sleep! Thought storms, mainly.


6 thoughts on “Inchcock Today – Monday 17th August 2020: A befuddling day!

  1. That’s a lot of butts. All butts to ya from the butthole smokers. The Butthole Smokers would be a good name for a Punk Band. Do you know the group the Butthole Surfers? Your legs look a little better. No 14th floor for you. Vagabond peas got out of hand?

    • A’morning to you Sir Tim!

      I agree, a great name for a Punk Band.
      Butthole Surfers? Nope, not heard of them.

      I wonder which was they are working the floor jobs, down I suppose, which means an even more acute isolationing when they get to my twelfth floor? Hehe!
      Had another session on the pod peas Tuesday, even more escaped!

      How are the furries coping with the new gals? I bet they all get on?

      TTFNski, Sir.

  2. Looking on the Brian-side of life, the cigarette butts are easier to remove than discarded and stomped upon chewing gum on the pavement. And the butts do not stick to the bottom of your shoes. 🙂
    This public service announcement brought to you by Billumski, a fellow fan of public walkways and such.

    • Aha, annuver coincidenceski that joins us, Billumski!
      I published a post with photos of the gummed streets in Nottingham City Centre a while back. This ciggie-littering is nearer home of course. Haha!
      I really miss my old pipe still, even after so many years.
      I’m going off track again, I do that, I don’t mean to.
      All the best to the FFOPWAS (Fellow fans of public walkways and such)
      Taketh care, Sir! Cheers.

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