Inchcock Today – Wednesday 28th October 2020:

TFZers ♫ Singing in the Rain ♫ Anglo-American Production

Wednesday 28th October 2020

Spanish: Miércoles 28 de Octubre de 2020

00:15hrs: I came back to semi-life, having only gotten to sleep an hour or so before, (Blungletadskis and Argh!) The need for a wee-wee developed as I was excruciatingly painfully removing my elephantine-like stomached body from the recliner. The reason for the discomfort being the returning furuncle in the posterior region. Undaunted, (but almost in tears), I proceeded to haul myself up onto my spindly legs and catch my balance, and wobbled off to the wet room, hopefully for a wee-wee, but you never know these days. Tsk!

I say wee-wee, it was another of the barely-perceptible 20-second mini-sprinkles, but with a high degree of AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble). But I’m used to this, so patiently waited, checking that things had really stopped, now and then, until it did. 

I washed-up, and was coming out of the room as a sudden, urgent need for the Porcelain-Throne arrived! And a good job it did, had I got any further I would not have made it in time! Got down, the action, totally under the control of the innards started, and by the time I’d realised how painful it was, it had all finished! Talk about messy, again. Still, a bit of variety this morning, the khaki colour of the last few visits, had turned to a yellowish-deep-brown and consisted of the squashed meatball type. Only a small amount of bleeding, presumably from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. But it had made Furuncle-Fred annoyed and more inflamed, on its way out. He’ll need some attention after the ablutions.

Off to the kitchenette. Taking a picture from the light and view-blocking, impossible to get at to clean, rain-letting-in, and designed by an old-age pensioner-hating, gerontophobic, scared of old age designer, windows. Not too bad an effort. Moody?

I got the kettle on, and then tackled the Health Checks. The SYS level came out high again at 161, the DIA and Pulse seemed okay to me. The new digital, no-touch, forehead thermometer was used, as the other two were not working again. Why does this happen? I suppose it’s all down to the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, 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, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, confuse, and scare the hell out of Inchcock’?

Anyway, the temperature was fine, at a healthier than of late, 34.1°c.

I made the brew of Glengettie tea and took the medications.

Then I got Computer Cameron on the go, and nipped back to the kitchen, to take a Dioctyl® capsule, that I’d forgotten earlier.

I had a little chinwag with my TFZer donated flatmates, Koala Katie, and Teddy Teresa for a while (Don’t laugh!).

Then started working on the computer. Photograph-sorting first. Replied to an Email from Jenny, then started to update the Tuesday blog, which took me hours of graft, too much concentration, a ton of mistakes, and forever being corrected, for hours and hours! The hands were not too steady this morning.

I went to make a mash of Glengettie tea, and I saw the moon was out. And what a right picklement I made of the photographicalisationing, thank mostly to Nicodemus’s flipping neurotransmitters playing up at the wrong time again. I got one right! Phwert!

Finished off the post, and sent it to WordPress. Pinterested some photos, and emailed the link off. Went on Facebook, and replied to some comments, got the picture albums updated. Replied to some views on WordPress. Then went to make another mug of tea, Thompsons Punjana this time.

Ablutions the next job. A pretty good session all bar the showering, many dropsies and a few bangs and knocks against the grab rail.

Iceland delivery.  Put the goods away; I didn’t anticipate getting the Milk Roll bread at all, because they have not had any in for months of ordering it; so I ordered some rolls as well. They caught me out with sending the lot today! Serves me right for trying to be clever!

I took the rolls down to Jenny’s door, that gal will make sure things are made use of properly. Bless her.

I returned to the apartment, after another job and a half getting the lift back up. And I got things ready for ‘Escape ‘Isolation to Town – No.6’ trip.

A separate blog with all photos to be made. I’ll put the link in here later. Here it is Inchcock’s Escape from Lockdown! Picture Style and in Ode

I checked to see I’d got everything needed: Card, bus-pass, keys and fob, money, list etc. and soon set out off on my escape to town! Here are a few photos taken on the visit to Nottingham City Centre, all of them are in Escape blog.

I set out, full of vim, energy, vitality and in fine-form health and mentally… Well, maybe not, then! Anyway, I took a picture of each of the Courts at Winwood Heights, along Chestnut Walk. Woodthorpe, Winwood and Winchester.

I called in Winwood Court, to see ILCs (Independent Living Coordinators) Wardens, Reichsführer and Catwalk Model Warden Deana, and Sturmscharführer Pole-dancer, Julie, in their holding and interrogation office, for a little quick natter.

Not as cosy as the old rooms in the Portacabin, but then with all the new residents they have to confine and control, they need the room to store the handcuffs, pepper-spray and barbed-wire-edged facemasks. Hehehe!

Then caught the bus into town, the L9. A most uncomfortable ride, it was. Having to constantly keep my feet under the trolley-guide, to stop it spinning and running all over the place. By the time I’d got into town, Arthur Itis, and Colin Cramps were both giving me some stick! Hey-ho! The rest of the trip out tale is in the Poetic blog at the link above.

The ride back home, again on an L9 bus, was even more painful than the one going to town! The obvious stock-car-racing driver ensured I was in agony at times, during the trip. The company that runs the L9s have blocked off all of the side-saddle seats, so it’s challenging keeping the trolleys steady now. Colin Cramps was particularly annoyed with me.

I limped along, somewhat wearily now, (Poor old sausage!) and hobbled wobbly passed Winwood Court to Woodthorpe at the end of the road.

I got into the exquisitely stylish, graceful, ornamentally decorated, attractive entrance foyer, with the wedged-open fire doors, and took a little rest, as the breathing was not coming too easily now, All okay after few minutes though.

Then into the lift lobby. I took a snap of my youthful, attractive, masculine, muscle-toned features that drive women so wild, as the doors opened to the lift cage. (Alright! I was only dreaming. Hehe!)

I unloaded the three-wheeler, the nibbles and treats first. They (Poundland) had some mint flavoured Skinny Bars that I got, and they can be used as treats. The Toffifee’s are mine, all mine! Hahaha! Biscuits for treats as well.

The non-food purchases, which I was so pleased to find. Particularly the Lavender & Orange oil Dettol, which I had to pay a small fortune for, to get any, from Amazon. Great saving at £2 a bottle. Then the 30l waste bags, I took a gamble and got three rolls. I hope they are not too thin.

The highlight of my buys was finding some Frazzles, and I’d bought three bags of eight, so these will last me a long time. Sainsbury’s and Iceland have not had any in for ages. They are rather a weakness of mine; I can’t help it, I love ’em!

I got the chilli mix going, added some gravy to it, onions and forgot about the tomatoes, Tsk! But, I was tickled-pink in having the milk roll to soak up the generous amount of gravy I’d made. I’m getting into this Chill-Con-Carne, now. Even the canned ones are okay.

I imbibed the medications, washed, and the chilli was ready for serving up. The potatoes I put in it were not so nice, but everything else was spot on. The milk roll bread was perfect! (I’m repeating myself now, Tsk!) Overall Taste Rating was 7/10. Those potatoes let things down.

I got the camera on charging.

The heavens kept opening up and closing down; a lot of rain had been avoided at least. If I’d hot soaked while out as well as the pain, it would have been a nightmare. So, a bit of luck there for the grumpy old Nottinghamian pensioner!

Worrying, innit, him having good luck? Unnatural! 

Too tired to even think about doing anything on the diary, I got stripped, jammie-bottom on, and down in the recliner really early, and got the TV on, and headphones over the head. I can’t remember what I watched, but I did find some Sweet Morpheus earlier than usual. I reckon that, although I woke up at midnight, I’d had a good five hours of sleep… Bootiful!

Inchcock’s Escape from Lock-down, No.7, to town. Pictographically

Nervously, I departed, my beloved Woodthorpe Court,

Wondering, if I really ought,

But off I poddled, my expectancies at nought,

Taking my quandaries, feeling relatively taut,

My nerves on edge and tension straught!

The bus-ride was painful and tense, oh, golly!

Feet under the wheels as brakes,

As I sat holding the trolley,

Then I got the nervous shakes,

Sure I would overspend my lolly!

Got to town, and nearly got ran over,

Cold, I wished I’d put on an extra pullover,

A van nearly hit me, moreover,

I swore at the man to show I was no pushover!

I made my way to the Poundsaver store,

Searching for milk tubs, Frazzles and more,

The knee gave way, and I ended up on the floor,

Some ladies, got me up, Gawd I was sore,

They had milk, but I got Frazzles & more,

Paid and left, with a bank balance more, poor!

I had a walk around the City Centre,

Limping now, I felt even ancienter,

The coffee shops looked full, but I’m not a frequenter,

Then one of the Pavement cyclist’s flew by,

If I could, I’d have given him a smack in the eye!

I never saw a policeman. I wonder why?

It looked like rain in the sky,

So I went inside, to keep myself dry!

The Exchange arcade, it was barren of folk,

So many retailers, closed-down, a pig-in-a poke,

Rent £78,000 per annum, it’s no joke,

Service Charge £17,144, what lady or bloke,

Who can afford this? No wonder they’ve gone broke!

The drizzle hadn’t come, so out I went,

Some time in Slab Square, I spent,

Street sleepers, yobboes, arguing, but no police sent,

My frustrations I wanted to vent,

The knee hurting, my money spent,

Getting home to Codeines was my intent!

To the Queen Street bus-stop,

Struggling with my purchases from the shop,

On to the L9 bus I did hop,

Well, struggled, and into the seat did flop,

I was so glad when we got to the Winwood Heights stop!

I alighted the bus, well, fell off of it,

I did feel a right twit!

No injuries, I felt tired, but quite fit,

Off to Woodthorpe Court, I did flit!

Not a soul in sight, for a talk,

So I struggled along Chestnut Walk,

No much thinking en route, the brain had lost its torque!

Into the decorative, welcoming lobby, I did walk!

I tooketh a photo, getting into the lift,

Can’t be accused today, of being a spendthrift!

I’d bought some pressies and a Christmas gift,

I was feeling proud, not peeved or tift,

For once, my thoughts were not all adrift,

There weren’t any at all if you get my drift?

I’d seen folk arguing, and one shoplift,

And yet, I didn’t feel in the slightest miffed!

Frazzled, I’m glad to say – Yes! Hehehe!