Inchcock Today: Diary and Local News Snippets

I woke up with a smidgeon of contentment lurking…
But it wasn’t to last long after the awakening,
I recalled a dream about my baking, breadmaking…
I kept getting it wrong and getting a rollicking…
From a woman who was nasty but breathtaking…
Somehow from the bread mix, I made crackling?
She gave me a kick in the goolies and a smacking!
Yet I seemed to enjoy this… I must be barking…
Next minute I’m under a car looking at the breaking…
Moved on to be with Bill Ziegler, explaining fracking…
Back to the kitchen, the woman sneered and headshaking…
Frying eggs now, the woman constantly nitpicking…
Then I woke up… a daft dream, but thought-provoking!
Well, not really, I was only joking!


05:25hrs: Tuesday 8th February 2022

I stirred into semi-pretend life to find scribble on the notepad of a dream. The pad lay between my knees; the quilt had been thrown over the Carers chair… Amazingly, there were no signs of nocturnal nibbling.

So, without trying to catch my balance, I dismounted the second-hand, £300, charity shop-bought, gungy beige coloured, rickety, c1968 recliner and staggered ASAP to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). As this was being digested into my slowly catching the body up in wakefulness brain, possibly the most urgent for months, a desperate wee-wee was needed, and Bladder Boris was in no mood to be stemmed or delayed! He let me know this, with the usual stabbing pains…

Doing this, Trotsky Terence started to demand an evacuation, and I had to get to the wet room and Porcelain Throne immediately… for he was beginning the movement of his own accord! I feared accidental frontal and rear leakages as I hastened into the wet room…

I hit Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley against the doorframe on the way in, but this did not stop my pursuit to the Throne. I got the pants down and on the seat with a thud. The action started immediately I was down… well, the rear-end a little before I’d got down. Being Trotsky Terence controlled, you can imagine the extra-mess things made that needed cleaning.

I sat there, Shirley twitching away like a good un, and feeling lucky to get there almost in time, and sorry for myself and ashamed that I didn’t… if you understand what I mean? It was another messy job cleaning me, and the wet room furniture, at least Harolds Haemorrhoids and Little Inchies fungal lesion were not bleeding, so after a bit of thought on my situation. Due to the early release from the read end, and the liquid nature of the evacuation from the rear, some of the product had sprayed onto the porcelain and floor So, I almost cheerfully got the disinfectant and mopped the floor.

I deemed that it could have been a lot worse. And actually cheered up an iota!

By the time I’d cleaned up, washed and dressed, I’m sure I was singing to myself, in fact!

I got the Health Checks done. But this time, things had gone back to their usual worrying levels, Tsk! I suppose the kerfuffle with the evacuations didn’t help matters, so I didn’t worry overly about these figures. Hopefully, they will be back down in the morning again.

The Sys was up a lot (43) at 171, Dia up to (62) 80, and the Pulse up to (69) 76. The body temperature showed 34.8°c, about the same as yesterdays reading was. Oh, it’s a little low, says Google. I think.

Carer Richard arrived shortly afterwards, and he was in a bit of a rush, running late. We still managed a mini-natter. During which the Ocado order arrived. The driver was given a thank you can of pop. He left the bags through the door for me, and I set about getting them into the kitchenette.

Richard sorted the medications, treated him, and after another mini-chinwagging session, he had to go. A good lad.

I started to sort out the incoming fodder. Two Pukka pies I could not remember ordering in there? One was a cheese, leek & potato one? I’m sure I’d have known if I ordered that? It might be a substitute?

Still, it sounds alright to me.

Three cans of curried beans, on offer they were. The tub of C&A lemon mousse was 65p for a tiddly tub! So, I only to one of them. All part of my economy-drive. Hehe!

A mixed bag of stuff on the wheeled trolley server. Orange jelly, bleach and Dettol lavender scented. A quick wee-wee had to be taken! Washed and back to the kitchen sorting.

Another mystery, they had sent two bunches of five bananas? Last week they sent a bunch of ten when I ordered (I think) five? That reminds me, I’ve got some Amazon stuff coming today.

I got the items away in the refrigerator. The two pies, one beef and the cheese as mentioned above, leek & potato Pukka pies, are used by dates on them for four days.

The milk I’d ordered was one massive Welsh organic 3-litre whole milk bottle! I can’t imagine even me ordering a dollop of milk this size. Substitute? Still, I’m chuffed that it is Welsh, as with the Glengettie teabags. There is a streak of Welsh in my family line… someone once told me that, anyway. Dad, I think it was?

Despite the rob-dogging pricing, the Natoora black tomatoes, the large and small ones ordered, were delivered and worth the extra methinks. They are deep and bright red inside. Taste wonderful!

The smaller ones looked like they were made of wood with their colouring. Not had these before, they might taste different, but I’ll give them a go. Not Welsh, these, the large ones are Spanish, which doesn’t bode well, the last ones were Italian, and the small ones are this time. I’ve never taken to tasteless Spanish tomatoes.

Did the blog for a few hours and then made a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea using the new milk. All was fine. Had a mini-packet of Crawfords Mini-Cheddar biscuits, BBQ flavour. Nice enough for me.

Panic suddenly erupted! Cleaner Esther rang the bell and entered my three-roomed domain. Gawd, she can talk! Well, more like barked orders and demands. She likes to be in charge and is, actually. Haha! It’s just that she never stops talking as she moves from room to room. Then on her next visit, she’ll snap, “I told you!” when you say you can’t remember. It’s most likely that I heard just a mumbling sound from a distance; if I try to find what room she’s in to tell her this, she’s moved onto a new set of orders and demands for me… Hehehe! Despite all this, she’s a good-hearted soul, though. Scary, mind!

Pressing on with the blog, I stopped to check Amazon Tracker for the three things being delivered. The Scratchings, Pot Noodles, and Air Spray said earlier; Due at 13:00hrs. Then it was 17:00hrs, now it is 22:00hrs! The Dettol is due 11th to 15th February.

When the intercom rang. A delivery, now that’s service, I thought. The man came up to the flat, which was nice; Amazon usually leaves stuff down on the table in reception.

Great balls of fire! It was the Dettol being delivered?

Thanked the man (GPO, not Amazon) and went to look at the AMazon tracker site once again, thinking I’d got it wrong.

But no, there it was, ‘Arriving 11th-12th February! That really was good service then! I got the bottles stored away, had a wee-wee, and returned to check on the other goods expected. Still, 22:00hrs! Tsk!


Local News Snippets

Man ‘A’ complained to man ‘B’ about his car being stolen. Mine too replied man ‘B’. They both agreed that there is no deterrent nowadays, bringing back the birch, things of that nature. It turned out it was the son of man ‘B’ who had stolen it.

They may be working retired or in their adolescence,
But will do it again if released and get the chance…
Murderers, I mean belligerence, hatred, but no benevolence…
Lawyers in their defence, utter contabescence!

The violent animals live without respect for life…
Causing fear, being Mr Big… they want to cause strife…
They’ll attack anyone, a Policeman, child or a midwife…
Undoubtedly scum of the earth… Lowlife!

These figures look good,
And indeed they should,
Trust them… if only we could?
Too many lies the proletariat has withstood!

My gambling luck continues, abysmally…
Even on gambles that are supplied for free!
Never do I gamble confidently,
Has anyone never won at all on the Lottery?
Oh, yes, of course, there’s me!
May as well laugh about it, Hehehe!

The Hippocratic Oath,
Was wasted on this oaf!
He thought he was catch proof…
But he made a goof…
He’s obviously uncouth…
But still, sounds aloof?
But from under an HMP roof!

Somehow, I can find no sympathy for him?


16:25hrs: Tuesday 8th February 2022

Got the Local News section above done, and made a meal. Feeling even more done-in, in now. Forgot to photograph the tray of fodder.

The Amazon man arrived, and Josie at the same time. Josie said one of the lifts were down, so he may be a while getting them up. This time the deliveryman brought all of the parcels up the door. I got them opened and stored away. The Amazon things after sorting, left a lot of cardboard needing to be rubbish sorted. So, I took them originally to go down to the recycling bin. But after waiting for a long time for the one working lift (elevator), I gave up and took them to the waste chute.

I kept banging parts of my anatomy in tiny the waste-chute room, as I tore the cardboard boxes to get them in the lid. I returned with a few bruises. Hahaha!

Too tired and mentally drained to do anymore computerisationing. Not that the food was special at all. Cornish pastie and some BBQ chips, no veg or desserts. I did manage to stay awake long enough to eat it, mind you.

Turned in the TV and fell asleep. But another fitful one, waking every few minutes it seemed. The evening Carer arrived, ringing the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chime, she came in. Another new gal to me, Carer ‘Ifra’. Another beautiful young thing. Confident in her duties, had a little natter with me… well, I had a natter with her. Hehe! Ifra took the waste bag with her on leaving, I had to force the treats on her, she chose a can of orange and an Easter egg. Lovely natured gal. Bade our farewells.

Washed the pots, and drifted off to sleep again, this time for three hours! Had a wee-wee, back in the recliner for a five-minute kip; woke again, another wee-wee, head down again… gave up and got up, but I was only half with it…

19 thoughts on “Inchcock Today: Diary and Local News Snippets

  1. A smidgen of lurking content sounds dangerous. Vitals are back up a bit. I think many doctors have taken the hypocritic oath these days, as many are simply hypocrites. Amazing the things that go on in the criminal world. Ifra is a sweetheart.

      • Healthcare jobs suck. If they are anything like here, no raises, no benefits, long hours and a lot of crap from awful patients.

      • They are all struggling to keep staff over here as well, Tim. Richard told me that Meridian pay them per call, no overtime, but charge clients by the minute, and never give a detailed list of how many, just a weekly total that changes so much in a month its unbelievable. Stili, what can yer do, other htan hwat I have and made request for a break down?

  2. Thank you for pluggung my fracking talks, in short: it’s not a good solution, particularly if you are a poor person and live next to a fracking field. Messy business all around. Again, I fank yer fer listening.
    Yer getting some good stuff, like wonderful tomatoes in the middle of February.
    A good roundup on the crime scene, from murder to political trickery. Well, no politician ever serves time. My mistake, Sir. I see that yer have also listed the Covid virus in the crime mentions. Dr. Fauci, an Italian immigrant like HRH, says we are heading into the long droning tail of the pandemic. A good time to watch out for the next virus that springs from one creature to the next and back again.
    Cornish pasties are something I learned about when watching Dr. Martin. A fun show.
    Three cheers for the Carers who take down the bags of waste, without charging you extra, and particularly worthy whe yer down to one elevator!

    • Thanks for talking Billum, you make sense to me, and bring asmidge of hilarity!
      The tom’s are from Scilily and Southern Spain, Sir. Bootiful!
      I get the feeling, that Covid situation is being manipulated, however, the removal of the mask-wearing and contact allowances may be too early yer, methinks? Especially (if this is true I don’t know) when they tell me htat a mask will only help in oreventing you passing on the virus to others – yet still the anti-maskers protest?
      The Cornish pasties vary so much in taste from one brand to another, Billum. J Sainsbury sell the bestest to my taste… but their website is down yet again. Humph!
      Thee carers have packed in the job, two new ones have been, one good, the other one, although pretty, is too overconfident for my tastes – and dosen’t take the bags with her! Hehe!
      HRH and your worhtiness self, please keep well, I insist!

      • Ever glad to talk a little sense and to share as many hilarious smidges as I can muster from those grey cells that Proirot speaks of.
        Great toms from points of European wonder start with the letter S: Sicily and Southern Spain. Not so many great toms from the Asian wonder of Siberia.
        A civil society would include citizens who do not wish to share their Covids with fellow travelers. It is of my opine that one who knowingly pollutes a room of air with fell virus is willingly an accomplice to manslaughter.
        Cornwall knows a trick or two about the construction of proper pasties, or so it appears, at least when the magical Sainsbury website is not dormant.
        Quite a shame about the carer turnover.

        “A pretty carer does not a competent carer make.” — from the collected thoughtages of Billum Willum, Jr. Esquire

        We insists also on yer keeping well, well, as well. So adviseeth Billum and HRH

      • Common sensimun cometh from the distinctly hand some Professor of Profundity & Perspicaciousness, this very say, I say!
        Sister Jane, had the pleasurable job of selecting the tomatoes daily, when she lived with the more esteemed and richerer family members in Sicily, Billum. Then used as an immature maid to look after the eight younger sons. Incidentally, only one of them has not been up before the beak as I type this, so many years later.
        I fail to follow the logic of the anti-maskers at all?
        I’ll do me bestest as you and HRH must, to keepeth fittum, Sire.
        Anoter carer has left since yesterday. Tsk!

      • I shall now ask my printing house to dash off some special business cards that mention my facility in matters of the profund and upon the proper use of perspicaciousnessity as an accurate means of making sense of the Earth and its homo sapiens.
        I had forgotten that Jane had spent some useful time on the island commanded by Mt. Etna. What gives with richerer family members thinking they are of greater stuff than the less monetarily equipped? Eight younger sons is eight too many in my humble opine. Can’t quite parse “…only one of them has not been up before the beak…” A typographicallogical explanatory methinketh.
        Anti-maskers bring about manslaughter, in my estimation anyway. You can’t blame the virus, it is simply attempting to create as large a family as possible, and they have been around as long as their hosts (in other words: us). We thankeths yer fer the kind greete, Sire.
        A shame about that carer, but he/she would probably be more fit for less important a duy. It does seem a rather large sum of Pounds to someone who is not capable of that kind of employment. Just an opine from me and meself. For what it is worth, as they say.
        Kindest greetes and a HelloThere to Jane.

      • I enjoyed that, thanks.
        Been up before the beak = Prosecuted in court. (Incudes Daddy, too!)
        I wear my mask when the Carers and delivery personages call on me, and proudly, Sire!
        I’ve not heard from Jane this week, maybe they have gorn away and I foget about it.
        Thankingeth you kindly, Mon Ami.
        All the bestest for HRH, yourself, Alan and the furries. I fank you again!

      • I do recall seeing beak things on the judge, now that you’ve mentioned it. Funny wig things on some bald pates as well. Speaking of pates, my psoriasitic things were heavy at the top of me head. Now they are quickly disappearing with applicationings of the good doctor’s prescript.
        Say hello to Jane from those of us in distant lands and circumstances.
        All on hand sendeth their best, and they fank yer fer asking about them!

      • I recall a story I read many years ago. A Court reporter wrote somehting like (about high court barristers) “He stood, smirked, coughed and said’—-‘… as I understand it, in doing so he’s just earned himself over a thousand pounds from his gangster client!”. Poor chap got the sack from his newspaper!
        Money, money, money?
        Jane should be calling me today, I shall passeth on you good thoughts, Sir.

      • Considering your considerations concerning this what to me, I see as bad for future generations, I am considerably in agrrement with you!

      • It ain’t the worse words to hear in my ear that yer finds us in considerable agreement, being on the same wavelength can be like hearing a fine old song wot we both enjoy hearing from good times. Memory rhymes are of the best kind when they march and match to a sympathetic ear. Good music to yer, kindest Sir.

  3. You know, when I started in supported independent living I too was given the choice of one managed home nurse, PT, housekeeping or another. I got really miffed. One service said its house keepers could not endanger their health by bending down to wash the tub ! If I could fo that, what in the eorld would I need them for. Also, they could not move any knickknack or other object on tables, dressers etc , so we had to gather every single loose item down to bare surfaces to get dusting done! We were worn out being barely upright (me) before she came. Then we had to replace everything. I mean like a lamp, clock, everything! It cost 100 Dollars per visit but the worker probably made 8 dollars an hour. No motivation to care.
    Luckily we were enrolled in a consumer directed option of assisted aid. I vould hire my own people and pay 10 an hour. I had to fo timesheets and follow guidelines. I also had a case worker who visited their clients oncea month and help access all available aid items via the state Medical Aid which is for people whose income and situation meet guidelines. The only time I have home nursing is during extreme management of wounds, etc. Then another insurance is billable which isn’t out of pocket since you are a paying member of that insurance. Im sire Meridian is reaping the outrageous charges for your meager assistance. The carers are taken advantage of as well. They probably have to supply their own transport with no reimbursement for gas or wear and tear —like delivery people! We do our best and I wish you had an option as well. See, a dear carer could work directly for you and you would write down their duties oerformed, mail it in, and her check would be. cut.
    I wonder if anything like that exists there? Love to you my Darling!

    • I am listening to myself talking here, Lisa, my love heart. I mean like a lamp, clock, everything! It cost 100 dollars per visit, but the worker probably made 8 dollars an hour. No motivation to care. That is so spot on the button!
      Two more carers have joined Meridian this week; the first one seemed caring enough. The second one I’ve seen (last night) is an overconfident, done it all before, gal. Oh, dear, it’s the good ones that go! Apparently, three more good carers packed the job in last week.
      Terrible day yesterday; I’ve put it as it was in the blog (Wednesdays). However, I’ve cheered up a bit hearing from you and Bill this morning. ♥♥♥

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