Inchcock Today: Cheesy Potatoes Made!

The highlight of the day. At long last, after several months, I took a risky chance and made some cheesy baked potatoes! I’d missed these for so long, I risked it. The last two days, the nerve-end failures had much fewer. Glad I did now, and I got away with it! Aware of the dangers that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete may impose on me…

Awakening, after the fifth horrible nights’ sleep, the urge for a mug of Glengettie was irresistible. I hobbled into the kitchenette with Metal Mickey and got the kettle on; the dim view had beauty to it, so I fetched the ‘on-its-last-legs’ Canon camera. Took a shot…

I’m lucky to have such a panoramic view,
Most times, the outcoming photo will do,
Today the Peripheral Neuropathy was on cue,
I got a decent photo, of the sky, with a purple-blue hue,
I was feeling in reasonably good knick, too!

Made the tea, good enough for me,
Later, the ablutions, well I needed a pee,
Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding free…
So I did the ablutioning, shaving carefully…
Amount if cuts none, although tiny nicks, three,
Nasal spray, eye drops, cleaned the lesion… yucky!
Medicated, dressed, it was a bit of a malarkey…
Finished the jobs, sanitarily…
Along came the Iceland delivery!

I soon got them in and into the kitchenette. The potatoes they had delivered actually looked fresh. So, I selected three large ones to use for the cheesy potatoes.

Put the three spuds in the oven…

Got the rest of the food put away…

Again, they had no Leicester Cheese, shame, but they substituted some imitation extra-strong cheddar, so at least I could make the cheesy pots up in a while.

The door chime rang out its ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune. It was Josie to tell me she’d just had a call from her Niece, who is going to take her out for a meal today. Bit of a disappointment…

I’d just added the mushrooms, tomatoes and chestnuts to Josie’s stew on the stove hob as well! Humph! Never mind, I said she could have it tomorrow. She seemed happy enough with that.

The Carer arrived, the same gal as yesterday. So no humour or nattering. She took the waste bag with her, though. A tablet short in the pot she provided. A Beta Blocker or Codeine. I assumed I’d dropped it; she got another one.

I carried on with prepping the fodder. I got on with getting Josie’s chilli ready in between.

Got the pots out of the oven and the cheese, sauces, BBQ seasoning, vinegar, BBQ sea salt, and bin nearby. Ready to scrape out the flesh from the tubers into the basin to bash the hell out of them with the seasonings added…

Which went amazingly well, no shakes, nerve-end didn’t go off, and only one tiny nick on the finger. No dropping of anything at all… oh, yes, I did drop the BBQ seasoning pot; don’t know I forgot that, cause it landed on my left foot and rolled to the end of the kitchen. I took a snap of it below.

I set the timer, took it to the computer, and worked on the  ‘Why’ blog. I soon needed the Porcelain Throne, so off I trundled to the wet room. All went well. Washed and out to check on the spuds in the kitchenette oven (That’s where they were, Hahaha!).

The peas were ready, so I got them on the plate with the sliced yellow tomatoes.

Sister Jane rang, and we had a chinwagging session.

Got the spuds out; I must say they looked good to me. Then, as the plate and tray layout progressed, I was impressed with my culinary performance today… Smug-Mode-Adopted!

By gum, it was grand!

Individual content ratings:
Cheesy Baked Potatoes – 9/10
Yellow Tomatoes – 8/10
Garden Peas – 9/10
Beef Pastie – 8/10

I spent many hours on the odeing for the blog. Visited Facebook WordPress Reader and had t nip to the wet room again, for the low point of the day – Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding yet again. I’d not noticed earlier with the excitement of getting a cheesy potatoes meal made without any severe hassle, finding it tasted so good and talking with Jane, that the blood had congealed with the Protection Pants. (A memory, something I had to do or something like that just fluttered into my head, then left?

So I was in the wet room for an awfully long time, cleaning and medicating. And this is the most painful of all of the ailments to medicate. I’d like to shout ‘Argh!’ But I won’t, I did a bit of that at the time. Hahaha! But today was still a better than usual one, and a Sunday too; usually not a lucky day. Although, I reserve the right to change my mind if it starts bleeding again. Hehe!

I was feeling a bit tired now, so I sat down with a water bottle and turned on the TV. Fell asleep for a couple of hours and was woken by the evening Carer coming early (Not that it matters). On to the Computerisationing again.


22:20hrs: Sounds like a vacuum, droning noises from above. (Not from Herbert, too distant-sounding) If I can hear it sufficiently to keep me awake, I feel sorry for anyone with decent hearing trying to get off to sleep! I think it got to Herbert above me because he started tapping and banging then. Kept it up on and off until nearly midnight!

If you don’t mind, a few words being spoken to you?
My mind wandered a little then, fretting and with Deja Vous…
Because getting to sleep, I just couldn’t do…
The droning noise’s sound got louder, persistent they grew!

The Thought Storms kicked off, as they tend to…
The eyes, the left knees arthritis, appointments overdue,
Silly thoughts, like should I give my testicles a shampoo?
Sleep was unavailable, so do I have a shower. or catch the flu…
Turn the TV on? Get something to eat? That sounded neat,
Yes, I was going a smidgeon barmy, yes, it must be true…
I nodded off, and after an hour of kip… I woke in a mind-stew!
I waddled to the Porcelain Throne, messy job, Oh, the phoo!

Then Carer Richard arrived, the medications to sort and do…
Brought me two postage packets; I said thanks, bless you!
Issued the medications, and before he said his Depardieu…
We had a little natter, or a few…
I told Richard of last nights noisy hullabaloo…
That ensured me no sleep, and hitherto…
It must have been loud; I heard it too…

In seconds, Richard had worked it through…
Gale force winds had all night long blew…
As it happens, they are still blowing now, too!
I thanked him for settling the mystery issue…
Slipped him some treats, as he said his adieu!

Richard to the rescue again!

Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Inchcocks Odes to Why? Part Two

♫ Why does my heart go on beating? ♫

♫ Why does the sun go on shining,
Why does the sea rush to shore,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world,
‘Cause, she doesn’t love me anymore, Yes…
Why do the birds go on singing,
Why do the stars glow above,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?
It ended when I lost your love…
I wake up in the mornin’, and I ponder,
Why sod all is the same as it was…
I can’t understand; no, I can’t understand
How life goes as crappy as it does…
Why does my mechanical heart go on beating?
Why are these eyes of mine fading,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world,
It ended when you said, “Sod-off, goodbye!”
I often wonder, apart from Little Inchie, why? ♫

Why Am I So Soft & Gullible?

Even as a young man, I was presentable…
But, I’ve always been jealous and resentful,
Gals thought I was a standby rather than a desirable…
But my wallet was in demand… and easily emptiable!
My heartstrings were unendingly detachable!
Why these failures? It is seemingly not diagnoseable.

My hopes and dreams were terribly squashable,
I’ve always been a soft touch and deceivable…
Looking back, I find it hardly believable…
I’ve gone from cute and cuddlable,
To a failure, always, who’s always defeatable!

Thus, it must have been in my past life…
I must have lived a terrible life…
Not like this one full of strife…
Bet I was cruel, took many a wife…
I should come back a newt or other pondlife!

Why Are Liars, Usually Politicians?

Well, that’s obvious! To keep themselves out of trouble!
To save them from bursting their own financial bubble?
They overclaim all expenses by at least a tankful…
They welcome Covid cause there’s no time to be able…
For anyone to inspect their expenses table!

Why Have Aliens Not Landed Yet?

Oh, bejabbers, they may well have already; it’s verifiable!
They beam down airily…
So no spaceships to see,
So their landings are not watchable…
They interbred with the powerful, starting with Blair…
This may sound to you ununderstandable…
Their original plan was to make us all vilifiable!

Intending to use mind control, somnambulistically!
Naturally, they all mind-melt and speak multilingually,
They soon spotted how humans communicate clumsily…
Using missiles, tanks, napalm, and mercenary armies…
Killing ourselves off with starving… very silly!
We are killing ourselves off, although it will be bloody!

We tell our people not to smoke or use a narghilly…
Not to eat fatty or sweet food, willy-nilly…
We do have variability but very little tranquillity…
We intercommunicate bolshy, cruelly, not friendly?
We lie, mislead, cheat, mostly circumlocutorily,
Many aliens planet folks have visited Earth, spookily,
It’d be a lot more, counting the imaginary!

Why Are More People Going Potty?
Answer: Alto-Egos, Id’s and Chakras

Alto-Ego-Inchy: No doubt about the answer to this question…
But it’s a long one, which calls for honesty and a confession…
I’ve studied this query for years; it became an obsession,
Since the Roman invasion to England’s 1867–1869 recession
I was in the body of a chap called Adrian…
Wall builder, I think, a stonemason…

The effect of Alto-Egos, Id’s and Chakras, combined,
Control our allotted specimen, usually a human,
Occasionally a half and half, unknown, with a warped mind,
But we can handle and master humans, aliens of any kind.
I am the truth, reality… I rarely speak what’s on my mind…

We Alto Egos go on for years, the insane is our possession,
When the human snuff it, we move on to Sherlock Holmesian…
To torment another losing it, sad foccinaucinihilipilification,
Alto-Egos, Id’s, and Chakras rule we’re not Antichristian,
We are not Czechian, Australian, Midlothian or Arizonian!

We roam the Universe to torment the deserving,
Deserving meaning one demented, their mind flailing,
Fair enough, we do some deducing, defacing and coercing…
But only of the brain, physical problems are not out kind…
Like with Inchcock, no wonder he’s going out of his mind!
I’m actually getting to feel sorry for him, I find…
But don’t tell anyone, it’s a bit embarrassing…

We Three unknown, misunderstood missionaries, are King…
Humans will never understand us unless they are tripping,
Our tasks, as laid out for us, to stop anyone helping…
Give pain, frustration, depression with maintaining…
If noise bothers Inchcock, we make sure it is piercing!
If he leaves the tap running… this is called interfacing…
We keep him busy with something else; I can’t help laughing!
Then the hot water will be cold, so no showering…
Little things like this make out job so satisfying!

 I fang You!

Part of the Inchies: Make Them Laugh, In Ode Series.

Inchcock Today – Saturday 29th January 2022

Saturday 29th January 2022

After another ‘orrible night of ever waking up, and Thought-Storm attacks, with a few nocturnal hobbles to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for painful, partly uncontrollable urinating; And having to clean and freshen up from the effects of the PMD (Pre-Micturition Dribbles), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling and splashes), all of varying nature.

One is like a torrent, belting out with no control over it and suffering from the splashback. The next, so painful and barely a trickle that somehow still managed to spray over my pyknic, wobbly, midriff more than found its way into the NWWB! Then I had to clean up, freshen up, and back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

I seemed to nod off again quickly enough each time, but sleep never lasted more than a few minutes – then it was shooting awake again, and back to the mess-making, to be cleaned up again, wee-weeing.

Around 04:10hrs, I gave up trying to prompt Sweet Morpheus. And decided to get the kettle on, take some photo’s of the dim view of the sky and end car park. I got the kettle on and required yet another wee-wee?

I took a photo with the Canon camera. It’s getting old and wrong now, just like me. (Hehe!) The spring on the SD card has gone, and Canon sometimes doesn’t recognise the card in the camera!

The shot I took of the end car park was far too dark to see much at all. So, I had to go on CorelDraw and adjust shadow, brightness, contrast and intensity to turn it into how it looks here on the right. Smug-Mode-Engaged!

This is the first time a car has not been parked on the yellow no parking zone! Well, while I’ve been taking the photos anyway.

It looks a little eerie if that’s the word I’m looking for. Nightmarish enough to be used as a ghost-themed book cover?

I couldn’t do enough work on the second shot of the view from the kitchen window. Sulk-Mode-Engaged

I made a belated brew of Glengettie, and I remembered that the Health Checks were supposed to be done again. So, I took a Cocodomal and Poo-Hardener, (Gooey last night, and messy! And tended to the Health Checks. I have the maximum SYS, Dia and Pulse figure safely put away; if they exceed them, I’ve got to call the paramedics. I put them safely away seems to have been lost to Vascular Dementia, Doris. Tsk! I started of with the checking. Took the BP and got these results, which I am confident, are well below the danger zones the nurse gave me.

All three readings were nuanced! It’s been a while since I was told I could stop doing the regular sphygmomanometerisationing. Since I started again, I’ve missed doing a few of them.

Then the temperature was taken. 34.9° c; I felt this was fine, but I checked on Dr Google anyway: “Mild +hypothermia (32–35 °C body temperature) is usually easy to treat. However, the risk of death increases as the core body temperature drops below 32 °c. Nae, bother methinks.

I made another brew and destroyed a banana. Made an Iceland order, then I took a stand-up shower at the sink.

A little early to use the noisy shower yet.

And it went jolly well… no, amazingly well! Fantastic, in fact! Here are a few things that pleased me greatly: Little Inchies fungal lesion had hardly bled at all! Shaving, one, I say ONE tiny nick only! Only two dropsies in the whole session! I had to use the Porcelain Throne while doing the ablutions… and it was smooth, bloodless, and not in the slightest bit messy or gooey! Double Smug-Mode Utilised! Only one walking into anything, the door as I left the wet room.

I had just one naughty that bothered me. A bad one; due to my hitting my ankle on the metal tray as I pulled my foot away. I stubbed my toe on the bucket that just had been cleaned and disinfected.

The state of the veins in the ankles and feet was not a pretty sight, but overall… Yippy!

I had a closer look at the vasculitis and venous thromboembolism veins on show. I think these are what the cancelled appointment at the QMC Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) was about? However, at 3.5 last time, the Warfarin level was spot on!

The Carer arrived after I’d dressed and gone on the computer. The Carer was in a rush, missed checking my swallowing the tablets, and forgot to take the waste bag to the chute for me (again). But she was obviously in a hurry, bless her. Not an easy job for the gals to do, with different people having differing, altering needs.

I now find myself in a position to give you an updated taste report on the £3 mini box of the Marks & Spencers Marmite Dinky Cheese Pinwheels I got from Ocado. Tasteless, Crap! Having eaten some of them.

Made a start on this blog creating. During which, the wee-weeing has grown less frequent – Phew!

I came across last nights sunset photographs. Both from the kitchenette window. I’m not sure why I took two that were of the same area, basically? I should imagine that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete would be to blame, and the finger must have stuck unfeelingly to the button?

I went on the WordPress Reader to see what folk have posted. Then answered some WordPress comments. Then did some TFZer Facebooking until…

Time to get the fodder sorted out – Oh yea!

Got the Cornish Pastie into the fridge; set the times. Potatoes were already in the slow cooker, and peas were on a low light in the saucepan.

A sort of fumble-thud took place in the obese stomach area, making the flab wobble! A little belching and a few stabbing pains. On my way to the wet room, the rumbling began again. I tore off the trews and PP’s and unceremoniously plonked me botty on the Throne… the action started immediately!

All seemingly over and done, I had the sensation that it wasn’t yet. So, I had a go at the easy crossword puzzle book. And very nearly got four clues answered but made do with three. (Hehehe!)

After ten minutes or so, the backup evacuation came. I was so glad I stayed in situ for its possible arrival.

Then, having washed and cleaned things, I realised I could smell something like burning… I dropped the nail brush…

Panic, flap, heartbeat racing, I rushed out to get to the kitchenette to see what I’d done. Casually shoulder-charging the door frame again on my way – now having to contend with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, I lunged my way into the kitchen, nose twitching and looking for signs of smoke from the oven… I did feel a dirty great Grade A, class one fool! It was the peas that had been burnt, as for the Cornish Pastie in the oven… I’d not even turned the thing on! So, Vascular Dementia Doris had got me bleeding, bruised, bashed about and going barmy. Left me with a right load of cleaning and sorting out; Trowing away the burnt peas, scrubbing the saucepan, getting some more on the boil, wet room to clean, PPs needed changing. I got the oven on again and reset the timer.

Then, as I was getting the tray and things out, I had another thud in the stomach – no, not the bowels or bladder this time – a sudden fear that I’d left the tap running in the wet room! I grabbed Metal Mickey and went with all haste to check. I believe I might have said something like, “You stupid fart of an old ♠ 6† f=ing idi⅛¬” Something along those lines! I could have cried with joy when I first found everything okay in the room… then I was coming out, I stubbed my toe against the stand-up drier radiator!

If There Is A Lord…

I’d like to ask him/her some questions; this’ll be awkward…
If there is a God, un he finds I don’t believe, I could be buggered?
Here goes: Why did you make me earthbound…
With the minuscule willie wot I found?
Girl or Boy problem? I’ll be bound!

My young life was cruel, but I was only semi-hard…
Mam and Dad fighting, she left… I ate bread and lard!
Or on the weekend sometimes an Oxo cube or a pilchard,
Fast forward, why take Suzie from me? It made me hard!
Memories, whatever you do, I’ll not discard!

My hair fell out at 20; others at 80 have plenty, tit!
I tried to be a good man, my hearing went, have you heard?
Then you stopped my heart, a mechanical one replaced it…
Ulcer, being shot, hernias, life was haphazard…
Even my already mini-willy further withered!

I pressed on, expecting things to improve, with disregard…
Got shot again, and you sent me Stroke… Flashforward…
Made me redundant at 62; you are a wizard!
I survived that; Vascular Dementia to me, you catapulted!
Rotten teeth, poverty causes that and being demented…
The hearing gets worse, things are going downward…
Now both eyes Cataract, Saccades and they’re Glaucoma’d…

The money is getting low,
But of course, you’ll know…
I’ll have to rob an apple orchard,
Keeping tabs on your scoreboard?
Now, black depressions on me, you bestow!
The ailments make me fat when I should be like a scarecrow!

Oh, and why, with all the other crap, did you give me hammertoe?
I really have tried to be a decent fellow…
But bad luck seems to constantly flow…
To the little-willied idiot that you know…
The one with ever-increasing ailments, now it’s lumbago!
And, from the fungal lesion, blood continues to flow,
You even teased me last year with impetigo!

The funeral’s all paid for when I have to go…
Sorry I cannot muster any faith or belief, though…
I don’t believe in Christmas or Mistletoe…
I’ll be leaving behind a few friends, but many more foe,
Slowly I’m getting ready, feeling more mellow…
I’d love to leave behind me an afterglow…
Reincarnation? Oh, no, no, no!
Is it yet time for me to go?
Please let me know…


Finally got the meal sorted out, served up and feasted upon with great relish and satisfaction.

It took me no time at all to entirely consume this nosh.

The black tomatoes were as perfect as one can get, most beautiful tasting! Sob! Shame it’s the last of them.

Only the Cornish Pastie was below par, but not by a lot. The plate and tray were scrapped of crumbs as well, into my mouth! Hehe! A Flavour Rating of 8.4/10.

As I was doing the washing up, I took three snaps of the dying sunset in the darkness.

The first one was taken straight ahead from the kitchenette window.

The next one was taken to the left. Amazing sky colouring again, I thought.

As I was getting ready to take a shot of the car park on Chestnut Way…

I knocked over the kitchen towel holder, which took the clock, a tub of Citric Acid and my mirror with it, on the way down to the floor! Thundergrongles!

They made a clattering noise as they met with the floor. Which I didn’t mind, cause Herbert in the flat above has been banging away all day, on and off. I hope he heard it, but I felt bad for the folks below my flat. Fantastically, no breakages from the mirror; the acid did not break open either! Wondered if my prayer in ode above had worked? Hehehe!

I got the car park photo taken. Then I got the cleaning up sorted out from the Accifauxpa.

Carer Valerie arrived, which was nice and cheered me up. A Carer who cares is a Carer you want to manage for you. There are a few. Well, many, but one bad apple can upset the apple cart and start the depressions. Hahaha!

The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing

Inchcocks Local News Snippets in Odes

Welcome to the Local Nottingham News Snippets Selection. Chosen this week, with many crime reports omitted; Cause I thought you’d be getting fed up with reading them. Ahem!


A 19-year-old lad, the police suspect of violence,
Part of a gang of yobs, who fractured a lads skull,
Arrested and out on bail as a subsequence…
I hope he’s learnt his lesson… what a load of bull!

Cases down by 7.5%, this should make us hopeful,
Nae… almost glad, nearly joyful…
Then I see this snippet below…
Mmm, what do we know?.

And then…

Jonathan, the criminal, impervious to the right thing to do,
Yet people fall in love with him… desiring him it’s true!
The women want to meet him, and pas de deux…
And some fellas fancy him too…
Well, I’m jealous, and I admit to you…
When sentenced, I hope they deport him to Timbuktu!

So, the robbed family, and all others too…
To keep safe, here’s what you must do…
Be Vigilant, get burglar alarms and CCTV,
Get monitored ones, although it’ll be a high fee,
Ten cameras should do, to keep a good view…
Mayhaps a double-barreled shotgun, or a few?
Should it be sufficient to make the burglars Depardieu?

May they be spotted by a policeman on his beat?
What am I saying, a PC on his beat… they are obsolete!
Get a suitable spray to get them with… spirochaete?
Bribe then not to rob you; ecstasy might be alreet?
Buy a taser, but please do be discreet…
Just for the taxman, ask them for a receipt!

Killer Matthew Farmer, who smiled and winked to police after stabbing his ex-partner 21 times, has been given a life sentence for this murder in his absence. There is a minimum term to serve 29 years before an application can be made for parole.

So, murderer Matthew Farmer turns into an Angel wannabee?
I see the ploy of his solicitor, whoever he may be…
He wants to prove remorse to people on the jury?
No, too late for that; it must be the Parole Board, you see…
To impress the virtual killers by setting them free early!
So when he applies, it may go in his favour… Lordy Me!

Shame he couldn’t kill himself as he did his partner so easily…
If the turd wanted some help, he should have asked me!
So three decades, no tax to pay, better off economically?
Do prisoners have poll tax or rent to pay? Surely…

It would only be right and fair that murderers should do?
Let them earn it, give them hardships; it’s overdue!
If one wants to die, he has the right; indeed, that’s true?
Ban luxuries, give them a book written in Hebrew,

Let them keep their smuggled in or prison-grown weed…
And then, in suicide next time, they can succeed!
I’m not calling for hanging or the use of a thumbscrew!
I just pray that murdering discontinues.

Well sorted, Sir!

I fear this blight is World Wide, seemingly…
The so-called artists, ignorant, are sickeningly…
Uncaring of the damage and ugliness they bring,
They all have a humanity and compassion deficiency,
There is no solution; the law is fiddledeedee!

When my carer read this out to me,
Although it’s happening is sad, you see…
I just couldn’t help bursting out with a “Hehehe!”

YourArea Scratch Card

Three tries this week to find three green houses.
Not doing very well, am I?

The Nottinghamshire Police are gathering injury after injury,
They get little support from judges or the jury…
Parole Board pillocks freeing prisoners early…
No wonder the officers are so grumpy and surly…
Arrestees think the courts are like a matinee!

Another murder in Nottingham then…
Saying nowt about this one, I’m not in the ken,
Little to report other than violence again…
It may get better… but when?


The very cheek and impertinence,
No insurance, no tax, and no licence,
No MOTs either; he didn’t want the inconvenience,
He was bailed under his own cognisance!.

There is no detail of what offences are marked on, nor the time or date. Be interesting to see one v the present day?

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets in Ode

Inchcock Today: Briefly with Political Ode

Maybe through the joys of ageing and dementia?
Gone are my days of romance and adventure,
Adventure is now trying a chilli-burger…
Pleasure is wee-weeing, not spraying my attire,
Porcelain Throneing can be a lot bloodier…
I can no longer do the Twist or Conger!
One time, I was known as a keen jogger…
Ageing and ailments, each can be a cruel bugger!?

Wednesday 26th January 2022

After a few hours of waking and drifting off again repeatedly, I rose gingerly, caught my balance, and sensed the warm damp feeling from the Protection Pants area. (Humph!) So, the first mission was to grab Metal Mickey and hobble to the wet room. Which I did.

The normal suffrage of pain getting things cleaned up and medicated. Little Inchies fungal lesion had bled well. But at least I caught it before the blood had dried and gone hard… it’s always agony getting the PP’s off and reopening the lesion if that happens. So, despite the pain, I was moving toward a chirpy outlook on things. (Which in itself is a rarity, nowadays, but it was not to last for long!).

Had a wash and shave, did the teggies, and got dressed. I’ve got a food delivery coming today… I think, from Ocado. It came shortly but had not supplied the veg that Sister Jane wanted, “Humph”.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP: Into the kitchen… to find I’d left the oven on and the cold water tap running last night! The self-loathing and foul language instantly began with a venom that surprised me. So I hate myself that much? Well, yes, I suppose I do? Or maybe not… It’s just Vascular Dementia-Doris that causes these problems that I really hate!

However, a couple of slices of luck did ease my self-denunciatory outbursts somewhat. At least it was the cold water tap, and there was no plug left in the sink, so no flooding! And there was no food in the oven to burn. So really, it was like a Semi-Whoopsiedangleplop? (I smiled writing that!)

Working on the blog. Carer Richard arrived. I did the BP checks, and Richard recorded them as the new instructions for the next three days. A great result, miles lower than yesterday.

Then the food… Hahaha!

Got the bags into the kitchen.

As you may know, I got some ridiculously overpriced Kenyan podded peas, a weakness of mine. Part baked cobs. Desserts and M&S mini potatoes. (I had some later, these were totally tasteless!) Cornish pasties, yellow and Natoora black tomatoes (Delicious!) Also, a new M&S product, Marmite rings

The meaty, tasty Natoora Tomatoes!

The bank-manager-upsetting Marmite Dinky Cheese Wheels from Marks & Spencers. The whole packet weighed only about 4 ounces!

Potato Rosti Cakes, I’ve not had these for years. Due to not being able to get into the M&S store basement food hall nowadays, so looking forward to trying these later in the week.

Snapped the end car park situation. The small red car was in Red Van’s parking spot in the hatched no parking zone. The red van is still in the proper parking area. It seems residents have decided to ignore the yellow lines altogether.

☎ I got a call from QMC (Queens Medical Centre), Ophthalmology Department. The lovely lady asked me if I could get in on Sunday, for my first consultation meeting with an Optometrist, regarding the Cataract operations. Blimey, this was a quick appointment, I thought!

Then when she said with it being on a Sunday (Next), the realisation dawned on me, as she said there would not be any transport provided for me. Getting a taxi with the three-wheeled walker was not practical. And the buses were scarcer on Sundays and weekends. She said okay when I explained my having Vascular Dementia and not being very mobile. She would inform them and make another appointment, but this may take a while. She’ll arrange a lift for me.

Two weeks since my referral. So I imagine I’ll go back to the end of the queue again now? Which is a smidge deflating. But, fingers crossed. 🤞

Even when, or if, the Cataracts are ever done, then the Glaucoma and Saccades need doing. Hopefully, the glaucoma treatment will involve only eye drops?

If I live long enough, it will be more challenging than ever every morning, then: The new eye drops, ear drops three times a day already and rubbing in the Phorpain gel into Arthur Itis knees, and Back-Pain Brenda twice a day minimum. Little Inchies fungal lesion medicationing, nasal sprays… Not to mention all the medications that the Carers may or may not arrive to issue me with. Or the BP taking and recording, temperature, pulse… Humph! Oh, dearie me! Haha!

Wrote during a moment of inspirationing!

Still, that’s enough of the good things…
For life is full of political hornswogglings…
Lies, deceit, and human trafficking!
Politicians, fiddling and grovelling…
Respect, empathy and compassion annulling,
Violence, hatred, mugging, knifing and brawling…
Life has become scary, frightening and appalling!

Politicians deceit, egotism, conceitedness and backpedalling,
Back-handed best friends, particularly Dominic Cummings!
With his pathetic excuses, lies and manoeuvrings…
His utter contempt, for the populace, the human beings…
Government full of fan-dangling, flannelling and fumbling!
Faltering, fearmongering, with self-profiting festering!

The voters ignored, workers let down, shortchanging!
They are good at covering-up disinformation orchestrating…
Duplicitous fibbing, cheating enshrouding, and suppressing,
Will they ever become open and honest? No, that’s dreaming!
You’d have more chance of murderer hanging, reinstating!
We will never see political honestly and reliability purging…
Could you imagine the truth of Cummings divulging?
For too long now, MPs morality has been haemorrhaging!

Then, there’s the Royal Let-Down!

He is loathed, detested, his actions despised…
Acting snotty about it, not very wise, he’s execrated,
It’s time the pompous, imperious brat was excoriated!
And the truth declared after it’s been traced!

He’s seeking a US jury trial, which may take a while,
He’ll not be treated as any rank and file…
The thought of special treatment brings up my bile…
I’m not saying he’s an ephebophile or paedophile…
But getting to the truth would be worthwhile,
Acting superior is inbred with Andrew; he’s no style…
Will we ever get to the truth – or am I being puerile?

Please enjoy,
Some fiddledeedee…
Thrown in by me…
Can’t help it, you see…
I’ll have to flee,
Time for a wee-wee…
Then a mug of Glengettie tea!

Part of the Inchcock’s make them Laugh: In Ode Series

Letdown by Meridian Health & Social Care again – Then lifted by Carer Julia!

Ratings on a Job Site

Ponderings in Ode

Searching for details on the Cataract operations,
I don’t suppose I’ll need a paediatrician or rhetorician?
The last operation I had, was done by an Abyssinian,
The recovery was run by a pretty Australian…
My dear carer, which helps me, is an Arizonian!
Hope whoever does my eyes is not an anthropophaginian!
The nurse thinks my stuttering could be aspergerian?

I hope things go well, even more, that they happen…
That on the operating table, I don’t need a crappen…
They do both the eyes same day… could this be then?
They say not; this is what reason was told to me…
If you have another condition affecting your eyes, you see…
Such as diabetes, saccades or glaucoma, trouble might be,
You’ll still have limited vision, even after successful surgery!
Well, that’s encouraging; I have all the above three!
Plus, if there is any delay in operating – I’ll have to hold my wee-wee!

What I need with Meridian is communication,
No carer called, I could have been on the floor with a concussion,
Their failures so regular means no jollification…
For Inchcock, they say nowt, just fail to come = depression!
Fretting starts the jumping jerking in the neurotransmission!
How I feel now, I’ll have to show some suppression…
I feel so let down through Meridians transgression!
I now rate them as inadequate and feel great derision!
Time to get rid of them, I’ve made a decision!

Away with these worries and procrastination…
Let’s face it, their undersupported, underfunded…
So accepting their failures is the only solution…
Is to up the costs… surely a fictionalisation?
When they do not call, why are charges not refunded?

We pray, unbelievingly for reliability, an idealisation…
Is someone involved, getting looked-after, backhanded?
I think not… the ‘Caring’ industry shows imperfection,
Sticking with the devil, you know, although cackhanded…
It might be the best choice, on reflection!

Fodder fed furiously into my face,

♥ Angel Of Mercy Arrives! ♥

Carer Julia arrived; I had to stop myself shouting hurrays!
Her care, helpfulness and empathy, they never strays…
For this gal (who I fell in love with) deserves all my praise,
I’ll ask her if she wants to adopt a grandad one of these days!
She cared for me with patience, went beyond the mark…
She contacted the Chemist; this freed my wark!
I was soon as happy as an elderly skylark…
Took my BP, Julia to the Healthline did remark…
The resulting figures, a little high, but Julia set the wark…

I’m to check it in the morning, if high, to call an ambulance,
And to agree to do so, in compliance…
Within minutes I’d lost my stubborn defiance…
Hatred of Meridian failings, thanks to Julia’s caring brilliance!

She was so careful and knowledgeable in who to contact and what to ask them about the dangers of my missing the morning medications. I felt so cared for suddenly, thanks, Julia! ♥

The gal had even packed and posted off the books for Lisa and Bill in the USofA for me; bless her Cotton Socks! ♥ She would not accept the money until she had brought the receipt with her on her next call. Soon, I hope. I thanked the gal and was almost sad when she left after giving me much time and care. ♥

But cheered when I remembered the TV was working again. And that was only due to Esther sorting things out, and I sent off the right TV remote that worked without any resettings.

So, another Angel’s help. ♥

Suddenly, life ain’t quite so bad!

Inchcock: Fun Graphics wot I Dun

Old and new graphics done for fun

TFZer = Troll Free Zone member

Older First

TFZer Marie ♥

TFZer Julie ♥

TFZers Winner Lillie ♥

TFZers Janet, Marie. Heather & Gladys ♥

TFZer Pattie ♥

TFZer Winner! ♥

TFZer Group Graphics

TFZers: Meritt canoeing, all the others in the background ♥

Newer Graphics

TFZer Janet BM ♥

TFZer Lona ♥

TFZers Janet A & Jillie ♥

TFZers Marie, Thomas & Gerry ♥

TFZer Pattie ♥

TFZer Thomas G

♥ TFZer Janet A, with pets! ♥

♥ TFZer Aussie Mary ♥

♥ TFZer Nancy ♥

♥ TFZer Gladys ♥ Meritt watching? Hehe!

♥ TFZer Lona ♥

Cyber-Buddies Lisa ♥ & Bill

♥ ♥ ♥


It’s taking longer and longer to get these graphics done. The Cataracts seem to be getting worse all the time. So I put these on while I could and hope the operations are successful and get back to having the time to make them. I shall stubbornly continue to do my bestest and refuse to give up on them. Cause I love doing them on CorelDraw and Paint. But, there may be fewer produced, and for a while after each operation – which of course, have not even been arranged yet. Another wave of Coronavirus and they may never get done and sorted. Fingers crossed! TTFNski, each.

Inchcock Today Monday 24th January 2022

Inchcock Today Monday 24th January 2022


Horrible Night!

Waking up all through the night, 4 times an hour on averagely!
Each time, Thought-Storms rampant, both knees hurting arthritically,
Wee-wees galore, getting up and down, good exercise, physically…
Getting out and in the chair went painfully, almost backbreakingly,
On one visit to the nocturnal wee-wee bucket, suddenly…
I realised the time, t’was time to get up, sadly!

However, the Thought-Storms continued, affecting me badly,
Howling around the mind, numbers, calculations, mathematically…
Ghosts, fears, hopes and confusions, mixed maniacally…
Went to fill the kettle, but put water in the saucepan; pathetically!
Left the hot tap running, dropped the milk… I spoke cursingly!
Oh, I wish the Thoughts would leave me, but no, sadly!

Carer Richard arrived, which seemed to ease my mental disarray,
We chatted, both of us relating many a memory,
We have a lot in common, medically…
Although I must say, not academically,
Our natterings went most ambiguously,
I can still access my long-term memory!

My views and thoughts on life today go anachronistically?
If I’ve got the wrong word there, please forgive me…
Richard departed, the brain stopped acting ballistically…
The wee-weeing steadied down… but not entirely,
Cheered up a smidge, I went to get my Strawberry sundae,
But found it had a use-by date on it, for last Friday!

Made a start to this blog, checked the day…Monday,
Thought I’d make a sarnie, last of the beef, oh, Ya!
But the beef had gone off, more stuff to throw away!
Back to the computerisationing, went on an Odeing foray!
Taking time to find a rhyming word, I forgot what I was going to say!
Porcelain Throne time… what will it be like today…,

Oh, that was fine, not messy, good texture… and no delay!
Easiest and pain-free than for many a day!
Coming out, all chuffed, I stubbed my toe on the way…
Shaking Shaun, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, have gone away…
Only just typed this, and Shirley began to jump and flay…
Contentment and hope, I should not really display!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –


Got the camera out, and found some snaps I’d taken earlier. I don’t think I’ve blogged them yet, but I could be wrong. It has been known!

Josies Sunday Lunch

My Sunday Lunch

My Second Sunday Lunch!

Yes, a little embarrassing that was. I forgot I’d had an earlier nosh, and made another. I gobbled it all up mind. Glutton!

Strayed off of my plans again,
My memory is such a pain…
Got a shave, cleaned the teeth,
Hit my knee on the bucket beneath…
But I mustn’t and won’t complain…
My higher spirits I want to maintain!
Back to photographing again…

The red van parked in the car park? No, surely…
Good heavens, Gore Blimey, and lackaday,
The red van had to park proper… Mayday!
It’s the black car in his way…
Parked in his illegal spot today!
All I can say is Hahaha!

A misty morning dawning,
Stayed this way all day…
Door chime ringing, it’s Josie!
Returning her Sunday dish and tray,
Said she enjoyed it immensely…
That perked me up, egotistically!.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –


I’ve lived my life, caringly, blindly and anacreontically,
But mostly I suppose it’s been okay, absobloodylutely,
I must have been old minded at birth, characteristically,
There have been moments of my living abstemiously…
I never fitted in, why I didn’t even like Old Mother Riley!
I’d turn from shyly to bravely, and back again, abruptly…
Rarely aggressively, agitatedly, or abrasively,
Often agonisingly, agreeably, and absentmindedly!
Now I live with depression and insanity…
But try to hang on to my natural humanity…
Vascular dementia, stroke, means mental abnormality,
But it’s all part of life, along with dying eyesight, apparently?
Forgetting new things brings forth my acting apologetically,
I admit to acting more and more confusedly…
But this only happens when I remember, I live pathetically,
Abstractedly, physically arduously, but I love laughter abundantly!

By gum, that was deep in parts. Did I write it?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Hello, Esther came in, (Just finished taking an urgent wee-wee in the bucket, too!) She’d picked up a parcel in the lobby, and brought it up for me, bless her. It was the TV remote control that amazon said would be arriving on the 28-29th January? Great! She is going to do my washing that the Meridian Care shower failed to do last Friday!

Wallah! Got the batteries into the remote and tried it out. Tales of the unexpected were one too!

Time to get this blog sent off, and get summat to eat.

Keep safe all!

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh In-Ode Series

Inchcock Today: The Nottingham Lads Local News Snippets

The Nottingham Lads Local News Snippets

Gotten Himmel – Seven Hours Straight-Through sleep!

What a marathon, a pleasurable hypersleep!
When I woke, my joy did reep…
But I’m not going to threap…
But I did spend nearly an hour on the toilet seat!

The carer gals ganged up on me… but I was alreet,
I dropped two tablets, but they only spotted one!
Still, I gave them a nibble and drink as a treat,
If I left it to them, I’d be dead and gone!
Thanked them and carried on…
Getting the beans, seasonings and chunks of meat,
Carefully prepping the chilli for Josie’s luncheon!

I was already feeling somewhat smugger,
Until I went to the Throne, a right bugger!
Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding, the flow rate larger…
Then I realised, the fungal lesion was bleeding too!
But I began to get a little cheerier,
One thing that went well though, was the poo!
The Brute worked, and I cleaned up getting things drier,
Again, I as soon felt frumpier,
Had another toe stumper!

Got Josie’s nosh sorted, but it was a scramble…
Too long doing this blog as a preamble…
So I rushed the prepping; took a gamble,
But didn’t land in the proverbial…
The tray prepped, I dropped some bit… that’s immaterial…
It was delivered on time, keeping my record was essential,
Josie was in spirits, a chinwag was attainable,
Wished her good eating, and Josie was delightable!

Back to the kitchen, tap left running again, I’m blameable!
Got the pots washed and put away, then, being so capable…
I’ve the habit of doing this, I dropped the kettle…
Burnt my leg, took ages to clean the mess, I’d had a bellyful!
I’d broken the handle against the table!
Took a photo of the end car park, just because I was able!

My frustrations with myself, are indescribable,
Self-loathing, grudgeful, and yet, also grateful?
I suddenly realised I was really lucky!
Or do I mean highly gullible?
I’m still going, not strong, but plucky…
I’m not sinful, and definitely not skilful…
Why thinking like this, confusion was plentiful,
I’d better get on with the blog before I get forgetful…
Yet, for some reason or other, I don’t feel stressful?.

Local News Snippets

This is a sport?
Violence to report…
A game, tempers short?
Well, not my sort!

Well said Police Officer Sarge…
Amazing, can you enl
Will anyone be charged?
I don’t mean to be a targe!

So sad, I used it so many times!

An anti-social behaviour injunction?
He’s a scumbag, give him a vaccination!
One that might improve his sensitisation…
Pentobarbital should help is putrefaction!

Nottinghamianese to the core!


Fingers crossed!

How many years will the animal be given?
Will he be yet another freed prisoner to kill again?
Judges, parole pillocks show stupefaction…
Or should the question be when?

Another potential killer.

Inchcocks Postcode crime figures…
Can’t say that they assure us…
Police redundancies and station closures!
Stabbings, murders, bleachings, fractures…
The courts give them stiff lectures…
The odd lengthy sentence in the mixtures,
But the worst of devious plicatures…
Are they are better of inside… time for reflectures?

I know, I know… but it rhymes! Hehehe!

Particularly nasty, bearing in mind who she was working for!



♥ I put the photo of Lisa on the header, cause she’s lovely! ♥

The Nottingham Lads Local News Snippets Series

Inchcock Today

Inchcock Today

Fings ain’t too good. But I’m absolutely fed up with hearing myself moan and waffle on about things. So, I won’t!

Photos from yesterday and today…

Carer… erm… Sorry, I’ve forgotten her name.

Intercom screen (Yes, it worked!)


Got up late today. Then, remembered that the Iceland delivery came yesterday! Thought the Iceland delivery was due, so took this snap of the bitterly cold mornings view and shot (Hehe!), well hobbled into the wet room to ready the things for the ablutioning.

Back into the kitchen to make a brew of Glengettie. Took another snap of the moon I spotted. I sometimes notice these things!

Ten minutes or so later, I spotted that I had not turned on the kettle at the power socket. Various words of self-derision were spouted.

Waiting for the kettle again, I took this snap of the City Hospital in the morning mist. I made the brew and took it with me into the wet room to save time. As the Carer is due shortly. So I still had to rush the session a  bit. But it didn’t help; in fact, it took me longer than it usually does. The task of stopping the bleeding from one particular shaving cut took yonks. Then, I needed the Porcelain Throne.

Harold’s Haemorrhoids had been bleeding so much I cracked the dried blood as I took off the Protection Pants! But they did a great job of holding things in. Good job. I hadn’t put the Morrison ones on; I think they would not have coped with this flood. Of course, another half-hour lost sorting, medicating and cleaning up! Hey-Ho

Waiting for the somewhat late Carer to arrive, I went on CorelDraw to make some graphics up. Gawd, I spent hours on it. Everything took even longer than usual, and I made a couple of cock-ups by shaking in my right hand. And they were sorted out with pure luck. I’d frozen CorelDraw altogether! Not the foggiest idea how I did so; just blessedly relieved that I managed to.

A landline call came in. I thought it might be Sister Jane. But no! It was Meridian Care’s top office. The Carer would be late coming. Nay bothers, I pressed on with the graphicationalisationing and Accifauxpas making. But did manage to do a couple of graphics done in advance. Before two, I say two carers arrived. Never been done so quickly. Treated the gals, and off they shot off, taking my waste bags to the chute with them. I thank you!

Already late in the day now, I pressed on with another graphic. I don’t want to show them directly, or it just might spoil the enjoyment of my multitudinous host of followers. Sometimes they both visit my site on the same day.


As I proceeded in a Westerly direction, to my dismay…
Towards the front room with the food on the tray…
Do I really need to say?
Shaking Shaun arrived, and my grip on the tray gave way…
I dropped the lot, ruining hopes for this horrible Saturday!
I don’t think I reacted ballistically…
But, my self-annoyance rose dramatically!
Fetched the cleaning stuff from the wet room quickly…
Where I saw my undrunk cold mug of Glengettie!
I got the cleaning up done, very carefully,
The job was painful, annoying, and most stressfully…
I didn’t get Humpty, only with myself, quite rightly…
But things changed to almost getting tearfully…

I stubbed my toe getting back up off of the floor!
Hit my elbow in doing so; now that was also sore!
The Dark Depression took over, to my discomfiture!
I was testing my own mental infrastructure…
Am I mad, I thought… everything I do, withers, for sure!
Silly thoughts reigned… about my constant failure…
The rest of the day, the depression was wearing and dour!
Huh! I suddenly realised I’d not taken a shower!

Moments ago, went in to make another brew, indeed…
So, now I’ve got to sort myself out with another feed…
My energy, concentration limits I exceed…
First, there is another job to do, a regular need…
Even if my logicality and thought power do recede…
Got to finish and post this Ode, I must heed,
I hope that shortly, sanity will intercede?
Whoops, it’s time that I wee’d!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe