Inchcockski – Frid 28 Aug 20: Nebulosities, insecurities, and vaguenesses, today. So, no change there!

TFZer Gal – Cor! ♥

Friday 28th August 2020

Croatian: Petak, 28 Kolovoza 2020 Godine

00:05hrs. I stirred, strangely I was feeling in somewhat semi-refreshed. I passed wind proliferously, noted that I’d had five wonderful hours of slumber, and unbroken for wee-wees. The ailments all seemed to be on holiday, or strike.

(Not regular this, but very welcome, it’s just a little bit sort of nervous-making when summat goes well for me). Hehe!

I removed my preposterously flabby and bulging-bellied body from the £300, c1968, second-hand, uncomfortable, sickeningly beige-coloured, rickety recliner. Got on my feet, grabbed Metal-Mickey (four-pronged-walking-stick), caught my balance, glasses on, (no hearing aids again, I must try again to get some batteries), and hobbled off for a wee-wee. All with relative ease. No shakes, dizzies, or leg dancing! And the evacuation of the urine was of the PBOCAN (Painless-But-Orange-Coloured-Almost-Normal) variety. I’m getting even more worried now, Haha!

Even more good fortune when I did the Health Checks. (The adoption of a Smug-Mode was considered, but rejected, I don’t want to push my luck, Hehe!) The SYS that was so high yesterday had gone down a fair bit, to 153. The DIA and Pulse were the same as on Thursday. 

The medications were imbibed, along with last night’s, that I had somehow forgotten to take. (That’s more like my usual traits!)

The stick-thermometer gave forth a low reading of only 33.3°c. It’s not been this low before?

I made a brew of Glengettie tea, and got on Computer Cameron, well, switch it on, and then made up a WordPress template for tomorrow. Next, I uploaded the photographs needed to finalise the Thursday Inchcock Today.

I’d no sooner started, and SSS (Shudddering-Shoulder-Shirley) kicked off. This extended the time it took to get the updating finished, and left me with an aching shoulder joint!

But really, I think the real blame for SSS’s antics, was Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failing. As the nerve-ends try to make contact with the brain. And they can’t because of the dying distal end of the axon of a nerve fibre has terminated. You can tell I’ve been looking things up on Google again, can’t you? Hehehe!) Owt to make myself sound cleverer! Hehehe!

I persevered and got the dairy updating done. (A hard, painful, frustrating slog, but still) Then I posted the link on Facebook, added some photographs. WP comments answered, and Pinterested picture. Then, off to make a brew.

Kettle on, and tried to get a decent picture of the morning view. I used the Night Panorama option on the Nikon camera selector this time. I was well-pleased with the resulting snap. Very close to how things looked to the eyes. (Swank-Mode-Adopted!)

Made the mug of Thompsons Punjana, and poddled back to Cameron. I viewed the WordPress Reader section. Then tried again to get some graphics done for the Inchcock Today headers.

Sister Jane rang me, sang ‘Happy Birthday to You’, and we had mutual moaning chinwag with the odd laugh creeping in. Hahaha!

Ablutions next: Status of Ablutionalisation Session Results: 8/10 – Great! No-bother with the teeth cleaning (I was meticulous). Shaving: Only once nick and two dropsies! Shower: Four dropsies, but no dizzies, knocking into anything or showerhead dropping!

Medicationalisationing: The furuncles and Harold’s Haemorrhoids creaming, was a little delicate, otherwise, plain sailing! The feet were looking okay, but anaemic!

Amazing how different the ablutioning sessions can be! One of the best this year!

I exited the wet room and found a letter on the floor delivered. On closer inspection, I found it was for a Mr B. Plant. So, that’s a parcel and letter this week wrongly delivered. Hey-ho! I’ll take it down to the office in a bit.

Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and made-up an Iceland order for Monday, 09:00>10:00hrs.

I got the black bag made up, to put down the waste chute on the way out, camera in my jacket pocket, and letter in the trolley, and off I poddled! Down in the lift to the ground floor. I noticed that I’d taken the black bag down with me, forgetting to take it to the chute, Tsk! I left it near the recycling bin to collect on my way back from the office.

The nub-ends that I picked up with my picker-upper last week were accumulating again on the grass and pathway. The drizzle looked as if it was trying to come again.

Regarding the black bag; I can’t understand it, you know. How a man such as myself, keen and alert, youthful, dynamic, with such a reliable memory, could have forgotten to do something. Humph! 

I hobbled casually along Chestnut Walk, to drop the letter off at the Interrogation office. Seeing the Emergency Ambulance outside Winwood Court, was a little sad. Deana was busy on the phone, so I dropped the wrongly delivered letter on a desk.

I took a photographicalisation of the end of Winwood and Winchester Courts. I waved to a couple of tenants, who were coming back from the bus stop. But there were precious few bodies about for a chin-wag, just a few exchanges and pleasant words can do so much for one’s morale.

The fine drizzle was beginning to fall, so I didn’t go any further, and I made my way back to Woodthorpe Court. 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, these energumenist to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus, and pants off of the old fart Inchcock’. Just thought I’d mention it, like. I made it back into the flats in time to miss the rain. (More good-luck! Mmm?)

As I got in the foyer, I remembered the black bag I’d left outside near the bins, so I popped out to get wet in the rain and collected it. Put it on the trolley, and made my way up to the twelfth floor.

I popped the small bag into the waste-chute, and trapped my flipping osteoarthritis finger knuckle in the metal cover retrieving my limb! Then caught my ankle on the three-wheeler as I reversed out of the room… again!

It could have been any digit I trapped, but it had to be this one! Cribblesboganagonies

  But of course, it didn’t bother me in the slightest. Oh, yes, indeed! I’m made of sterner stuff than to whinge, whine, whimper, or wail at such trivialities. The bleeding should be easy enough to stop. Also no cursing, either!

Ahem, cough! 

I got the trolley in through the doorway without any damage or injuries, and I got the kettle on. I’d have put some pain gel on the ankle, but despite my best efforts with Phorpain gelled kitchen towels and the picker-upper being utilised, I ended up with most of the medication on my toes, legs, clothes, and the carpet! Sad, innit? I got the gel on the little finger without any hassle!

I seasoned the potatoes in the crock-pot and turned it to the highest setting.

I got on with creating a graphic again, but I’d had only got one done when Saccades Sandra kicked-off at me! I left the screen, and put the computer into sleep mode, and had a little meander around the flat.

Not easy with only 3 rooms and wet-room to choose from. Hahaha!

I ended up opening on the balcony and opened a window to get some fresh air and take a shot of the end car park. I took the picture, then had to come back in the flat to get the towel to dry myself off. What a nebech! Hehe!

I snapped the next photograph through the closed, left-hand window. The rain was persistent, but not too much wind with it, mind you.

The clouds looked threatening.

When it came time to close the open window, I took extreme care in doing so—many better men than I have had fingers bruised, blood-spotted, and cut, since their installation. I heard of one lady, who had the window fall out and hit her! But that’s being kept quiet, naturally.

I went to check on the spuds, all but ready-cooked now. I’ll have a bash at another TFZer graphic, and close down, get some nosh. So, on I go to CorelDrawing again. Got another illustration done, and then served up the dinner.

An excellent flavour today, I’m so glad I put the fish sauce in the potatoes, it suited this phagomaniac down to the ground. It was savoured and digested with great deglutition. Leaving a well satisfied, almost smug mood lingering within. 9.2/10!

The weariness and fatigue arrived while I was doing the washing up. I got the evening medications taken, had a wash, and got down in the recliner. I put the TV on, to watch a Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmare, not sure if it had started when I drifted off. Zzz!

6 thoughts on “Inchcockski – Frid 28 Aug 20: Nebulosities, insecurities, and vaguenesses, today. So, no change there!

  1. It is or it was your birthday? I know you probably don’t think there is much to be happy about on your birthday, but it needs adequate acknowledgment, so here it is in Welsh “Penblwydd hapus!” Looks kind of awful in my ancestors’ native language. I’m studying Welsh. A horribly difficult language it is. Spelling it with all those W’s, Y’s, doubled D’s and vowel pairs turned opposite of English is a challenge to say the least. I think the only things worthy of double D’s are bra sizes and what fits inside them. Sometimes a few English words are ten in Welsh, and ten English words only two or three in Welsh. Counting above ten is a hoot. Eleven is one more that ten, literally” “Un deg un”, and so on. I love fifteen “Un deg pump”. I dig and pump water out here in the desert, my ancestors say it’s 15. Enough of that. Nicely wet photos you got there. That is a great looking meal worth of a solid A.

    Liked by 1 person

    • T’was indeed, Sir. Merci.

      Despite my own Welsh blood wot I was born wiv, the language defeats me, Tim. (Despite my anaemic pale flesh around the midriff) Hehehe!
      You are a betterer man than I, Tim. I gave up trying to make sense of it after a few days! I always thought 11 was un ar deg, not that I have time to worry about it. Hahaha!

      Ah, Bras, they bring back worthy memories. Haha! I’ve an untold tale of the first time I tried to undo one.

      Taketh care, mate!

      Liked by 1 person

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