Recalcitrant Inchcock: Saturday 23rd January 2021 Diary

TFZer, at her holiday home

Saturday 23rd January 2021

Welsh: Dydd Sadwrn 23ain Ionawr 2021

23:50hrs: I woke to Thought Storms that must have been in a dream because they were very active straight away. Fears, concerns, anxious concerns that came and went for ages.

I needed a wee-wee shortly, and after getting IP from the recliner, catching my balance and getting to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), I found it nearly full! Still, there was no rush, things didn’t feel urgent. I took the bucket with me to the wet room, used the WC, for a WDWW (Weak-Dribbling-Wee-Wee) and cleaned and disinfected the bucket. While doing this, I thought I could smell burning, and remembered yesterdays incinerated Chilli-Con-Carne in the pan.

I’d left it soaking, and went to investigate to see if anything was salvageable. Amazingly, the last few bits of fodder came off quickly? And the saucepan was usable again! Made a brew, and took the morning medications.

Going to get the computer on to get the Templates started, and I returned to the wet room, to us the Porcelain Throne. Constipation Konrad was thrashed by Trotsky Terence in this mornings DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle). What a messy affair! Much refilling of the tank, before the great-dollop of evacuated product, was cleared.

Back to the computer and the now gone cold mug of Glengettie, and made a start on finishing off yesterdays diary. It was hard work again, with interruptions from SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley). Got it done, posted off, and Pinterested a few photos.

I made up a template for today. Then went onto Facebooking catch-up. The WordPress Reader section next and emailed the link.

I then tried to get the advance Templates done. This was even more frustrating, cause Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters kept going off-line, and causing me to make many errors and mistakes, many not noticed at first, and I had to keep going back top check earlier work done. Confusing, innit? I persevered…

Sixteen-hours after getting up. I got the temp[lates finished! I’d cream-crackered now.

The scribbled notes and few photos I took will help me remember bits, in the morning… he says hopefully. It may be a little muddled, though!

I turned off the computer to allow it to cool down a smidge, I went to do the ablutions.

I can’t recall things much because when I got around to updating this, it was 22 hours later. I’ll do me bestest. The knees before and legs after the shower were photographed.

I made a brew of Glengettie and restarted the computer. It might have been a mistake turning it off, cause now the internet was slower than ever, and CorelDraw kept playing up and needed restarting frequently.

Mistakes were being made in the Template creations, and much time was lost going back after finding a mistake to correct it. I expect many cock-ups will still have been missed.

Hours later, I got increasingly frustrated with mu wrongdoings, cocking things up, and forgetting, rechecking… Not good! I went to make another brew and took these photographs of the snow shower. The wind was blowing the light snow in all directions, but the shots I took some through the window, a lot of snow came into the room! Haha!

The templating was returned to, and I persisted for several more hours until the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off I poddled

‘Never, in the field of human ablutionisationing have I had such a massive evacuation!’ Much bleeding.

I opened MS Word to find one I needed from my ‘Future Use’ dictionary, and the bloody layout had changed on its own again!

I lost an hour or more trying to get it back to how I wanted it. But had to make do, as it was beyond me this new layout.

It was a slow slog getting the templates all done. If it wasn’t MS Word, CorelDraw or the Internet being incredibly sluggish, there was problem delaying me all day! It wrangled me so much, Duodenal Donald kicked-off.

The snow fell again. A slight covering and the wind with it was more violent now.

I decided to make another brew and take some more photographs. But was not going to make the same mistake as in the earlier shoot – I took all of these pictures through the window.

I tried using the Nikon camera, but it was beyond salvation.

I’ve not had a good day, really.

Eventually, I got the templates done – I’m too tired to double-check them at the moment. No doubt whatsoever that many errors will be found when I do get around to checking them.

I got a pastie put in the oven warming, and the CCC and meatballs, with added sliced capsicum, in the saucepan, I was determined not to burn it this time.

I returned and turned off the computer. I was wrecked mentally. All the things that went wrong, the time lost, and I didn’t mention the wee-weeing, did I – it was repetitive!

  : I heard a thud, or loud, dull plop like sound, that had come from the kitchen area. Panic-Mode-Engaged, I hastened to have a look at what had happened. It had to be something severe or dangerous if I heard the noise without the hearing aids in?

A fresh burning smell welcomed me as I got in the kitchen.

Oh, dearie me! After a few seconds in Sherlock Holmesian Mode, I found that the beef pastie in the oven had exploded! The minced beef, onion, gravy and pastry was glued to the door and all over the stove! Crying was one option! On the bright side, the place smelt like the old roadside cafes used to! Hehehe! 

I scraped off as much of the gunk as I could. Then got the Cif oven cleaner spray, and did my best (failing miserably) to get the oven and door cleaned. I even remembered to keep stirring the Chillie-Con-Carne, as I tried to clean the oven, so the saucepan wouldn’t burn!

There was no repeated muttering, spitting out of the terrible parentage-questioning word. Bile growing in the stomach. Depression, or feeling sorry for myself, at all.

I got the other remaining pastie from the fridge then dropped it in the white plastic eating-bowl (dare not use the oven again). Then poured the pan full of CCC over it. Well, another surprise, no sooner had I buried the pie with the CCC, it expanded and came to the top of the mixture, and burst open?!?! My puzzlement knew no bounds!

Then, I went to get the half-packet of brown bread thins, from where I just knew I’d left it… But no, it wasn’t there! I was sure I’d saved it in the bread bin, thinking at the time, how well it had worked out, having some for this feast, and with Sainsbury’s order due in the morning? (Although, of course, they may not send any, or might send a can of Turpentine as one of their infamous substitutes). The search had to be curtailed before the meal got too cold.

Despite the horrible, frustrating, failure-ridden day it’s been, the meal went down a treat! Flavour rating, 8.2/10! I put the basin etc. in the bowl to soak overnight.

I grabbed the next in line ‘Heartbeat’ DVD from the box and got it playing.

I was happily viewing away, and a thought came to me. (ideas do that sometimes, not very often, mind) Did I drop the bread thins down between the chairs last night? Oh, course, I had to get my body manipulated in such a position that I could shine the wind-up torch down into the darkness to look for any signs of the bread… Why, now that I’d eaten the meal is a mystery?

BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) twinged, and has been painful ever since… of course, there was no bread down there!

♫ Fings, ain’t wot they used to be!♫

37 thoughts on “Recalcitrant Inchcock: Saturday 23rd January 2021 Diary

  1. You beef pastie exploding in the oven was some excitement. You did an interesting save with floating it in CCC. The never ending puzzlement of changing formats is so annoying. Those are excellent pics of rain then snow. Your good morning sour puss is perfect so is the one for burning smell of exploded pot pie.

    • Diolch Syr.
      I put the pastie in the bowl first, Tim, poured the delightfull tasting Chilli and meat balls over it, and it forced its way up to the top, bubblingly, all on its own? I jest not! (The aliens and ghosts, mayhaps?) Hehehe!

      Have you been working with guitars recently, Tim? My EQ tells me something musical in in the air? Hope he’s not wrong.

      • Well you got it mostly right. I’ve been putting songs up on and I also have the Tumultuous guitar for sale on eBay.

  2. “The Case of the Exploding Pastie” Soon to be a major motion picture.
    “Pastie Floats to Surface of Chilli, then Bursts Open” — The Sequel.
    *A Tale of Two Pasties” by Charlie the Dickensian.
    “The Mystery of the Thin Brown Bread” — Tales of Missing Portions


      • Methinks that this phenominum is very rare! I’d like to know what caused it, did I do right in eating it afterwards, Billum? Haha!
        Red cars about again.
        Gawd I’m tired.
        Hope Lisa and Thy Good Self are getting plenty… sleep I mean. Har-har!
        Keepeth safe, love through the ether

  3. I do not believe that eating the pastie afterward is a call for alarum. It’s just the physics of foodstuffs methinks. Not to worry, Sir sayeth Billum.
    That exploding pastie reminds me of those TV programs that investigate the forensic science behind crime scenes, those who clean up the premises, and an accounting for the many crawling, flying, and twittering insects that show up for the bounteous feasts — all a part of the natural world as it were. 🙂

    • Cheers, Pastie-wise, I shall cease fretting then, Willum!

      Ah, you can’t blame the gnats and bugs can you. They will have a right flavourful feast on my remains, I’m sure they will be delighted with the Honey, mustard and onion flavoured Pretzel remains. Hahaha!

      Keep save, bless yers all.

      • Perhaps you could use honey, mustard and onion-flavoured Pretzel-crumb remains from the bottom of the bag to bread the next batch of Pasties.
        At least, gnats and bugs can look forward to a “right flavourful feast.” Hahahaha!

        We wish all yer Woodthorpers blessings and safety.

      • I found some Pretzel pieces this morning, under my nightcap? Now there’s a mystery I frear trying to sort out, Billumski? So, I wont.

        Peace and better health wishes sent, Sir.

      • How it’s going today, you could be right, Billum.
        Just found out I’d been sleeping with the poaf of bread under the quilt?
        Do’t ask, I don’t know!
        Hehehe! Tsk!

      • Snowfall overnight and a bright sun overhead. 🙂
        A breadless flat likely prompted your somnambulist side to seek sheltering safety under the quilt.
        Perhaps I should write an advice column. 🙂

      • Oh, I hope the snow clears for you both, Willumski!
        A small charge might be made for your exponentially waywardly, well intended, and Billumscopic advice? Mayhaps, a column in the local rag to start you off, Sir?
        Hehehe! Cheers!

      • “Snow No Problem Now” — Billum’s weather story submitted to 🙂 Thot I could contribute some non-local news and the occasional advice column, from a myopic Billumscopic perspective. Hahaha!

      • Snow good and gone. I hope this pleases
        astigmatic Billum? Lessum chances of slips and falls, has to be good, Sir. When I see the snow from the window, I feel like I could tumble, slip on ice etc. indoors. That does make sense of a sort does it?

        Oh, the weather, whether good or not Billum, I certainly consider a Newsworthy item for inclusion in your Advice Coloumn. A few medicalistional revelations and tips, are always of interest, too!

        I fear a moan is coming on, Sir, sorry… Sweet Morpheus has been very unsweet to me these past two nights. I feel I’ve spent mor time awake and fretting, battling the damned Thought Storms, than sleeping? I worked it out (Not necessarily correctly of course), but I think I was laid down last evening ofr a toatl of… wait for it, mate… Eight Hours! But time akip, well, not a lot. Mayhaps a short article on how to attract the attentions of Sweet Morpheus, in you next column? Perhaps not, I asketh too much form a fellow sufferer. Forgiveth me.

      • Perhaps a pair of snowshoes is wot yer need then, Sir. Here is advice:
        “Donning snowshoes indoors prevents fallages, sayeth Billum”

        “8 Hours Akip: How to Keep Sweet Morpheus Begging for More”

        Writing an advice column for fellow sufferers is a privilege. Hahaha!

      • Ah, indoor snow shoes? I wonder if Amazon will sell them? Haha!

        Three or four nights on the row now, the kip has been repeatedly broken, thus I have spoken, to the Lord as a token, If I get an answer, I’ll be thunderstrucken!

        Mr Amazon has taken to delivering late,
        I’m so tired in a terrible state,
        Now lets get this straight,
        I’ve oredered ear-wax remover & a plate,
        So please arrive earlier, I don’t mean the date,
        Before noon? Would suit me mate!

        That’ll work, methinks, or not,
        I am such a silly clot,
        Riddled with riddles an awful lot,
        Glengettie? I’ll have another pot,
        What was I saying, I’ve forgot?
        Let’s have an early delivery slot?

        My thankeths Advice columnist, LASP: Lisa Appreciation Society President, Sir Billum (MLitt) The Master of Letters, AAB: Associate of Applied Business, ASPT-APT: Associate in Physical Therapy, Bachelor of Business Administration (BBA), Master of Computational Finance, Master of Science in Teaching (MST), Doctor of Philosophy (Ph.D.), Associate Professor of the OSRCMA Ohio Red Car Monitoring Assessment (Financial Donations Accepted) of Ohio.

      • Wearing snow shoes indoors might be a manifestation of Basiphobia (fear of falling) with complications of Chionophobia (fear of snow). We are currently experiencing subfreezing temperatures and a blanket of snow. Now I cannot seem to locate my snowshoes, so will check Amazon to see if they provide a discount on the purchase of both snowshoes *and* bread. 🙂
        I am going to need a larger business card for my alphabet-soup vocations and avocations. My favorite is:

        Associate Professor of the OSRCMA Ohio Red Car Monitoring Assessment (Financial Donations Accepted) of Ohio

      • Hahaha! Good luck with Amazon, Sir.

        Then the, Associate Professor of the OSRCMA Ohio Red Car Monitoring Assessment (Financial Donations Accepted), it will be, Billum of Ohio.


      • These shoes are not rated for indoor use. :-)×36/dp/B00DOP8DD4/ref=sr_1_41?dchild=1&keywords=snowshoes&qid=1612222944&sr=8-41

    • Haha, a fine idea!
      The chiropodist, I’ve just found is, had been closed down again in the lockdown duration.
      Hope Lisa can get some rest, if not I shall report it to ALexa!

      • And there is no telling how long ten toenails can grow during indefinite lockdown. Humpharama!
        Lisa continues with a brief kip or two, not enough to catch up on the already enormous sleep deficit. Alexa may know of an entreaty with Sweet Morpheus that might work. Doesn’t hurt to try, do it?

      • Poor Lisa, we also share traits, that we could do without. Bless her.
        I’ll have to buy an Alexa, the nget spomeopme to shoe me how to set it up, then applgise to te bank manager…
        Rest & Peace sent throuigh the ether.

      • Lisa seeks Alexa’s advice on films and TV programs. Here is a useful request:
        “Alexa, find Sweet Morpheus”
        Ethereal wish: “May Morpheus bring you Rest & Peace as well.”

      • Goodness gracious me, Willumski, however did you do that bit of forecasting? Lastium, nicht, I got… esit got it, it may shocketh you… “5½hrs of unbroken kip!!!!”
        Lisa and your good self, must have ‘willed’ it for me? Many thankeths! ♥
        Keep up the good work, Sir!

      • Alexa translates to “A Lisa” methinks. She is the gal with all the answers to all the questions — including all the questions not yet posed. And Lisa’s answer for you included 5 1/2 hours of unbroken kip, an invaluable gift.
        I just do the things and thinks that Lisa proposes. Methinks I’ve got the easy part then 🙂
        Keep on kipping!

      • Oh, you lucky personage, Billum! Hehe!
        Fancy having a pretty professoress of particulary singular advice, and instuctionalisationing at hand, 24/7. I’m jealous!
        The gal was spot on with her commentski of the attentions of Sweet Morpheus, please to thanketh her for me.
        Did I mention the damned l;oudness of the ‘Hum’ this morning? Argh!!!
        You hopefully will read of my returning ailment later, Sir. Snother burst blood vessel, this time in the right eye, has just started. I tooketh a photo. But cannot go through all that palava again at the hospital – cause the Covid Vac is due tommorow.
        Worra life! Humph!
        Thanks for the update, Billum. TTFN

      • We join forces to summon Sweet Morpheus when his services are crucial.
        That highly indecent ‘Hum’ careth not a blush, his Royal Humness just keeps on droning along.
        Every now and anon, I show up in public with a burst blood vessel. They look like bloody ‘ell doen’t they?
        Good Lucketh with the vac stab, Sir!

      • I thank you, Sir Billum.
        Morpheus mangled my kip lasy night – nasty!
        Embarrassment comes natural to me… I got the date wrong for the jab, it’s on Friday 12th, not 5th, I do feel a fool.
        The darned ‘Hum’, Coronavirus, Murders, Starving… will we ever improve things? Well, I mean the scientists and experts.
        The Subconjunctival hemorrhage, can look shocking to others as well as us sufferers. (Did you like that; Subconjunctival? I looked it up on Mr G, bet you knew the word?
        I think I have just heard an alarm of some sort? I’ll gop and have harken in the hallway…

        I’m back, nowt to hear out there – did I imagine it?
        Keepeth safe, and later have some unexpected good luck for Lisa and thee good self! ♥

      • Hard to keep track of what week it is when in lockdown. 🙂
        Subconjunctival sounds like a grammar term involving subjunctive mood and a conjunction, enough to cause an hemorrhage, innit?

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