Inchcock: Diary-Belated Photographicalisations 1.2⅑th

Belated Photographicalisations
Hope I’ve not put them on before…Tsk!

Yesterdays Nosh: Highlights of the meal? Every single chip! But many of the peas gave me the slip… Onto me, the chair and the floor, they lost their grip! The cheap beef? Smelt to me, of catnip?

Sunset Photo: Did the ablutions and adorned fresh night attire – I don’t think my choice of jammy bottoms helped me relax or drop off… hence it was a few hours before I could get off into the land of nod, with the help of the TV adverts!

Sunday 20th March 2022

The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing

After about two hours of bliss with Sweet Morpheus, I shot awake, needing a wee-wee…

Haha! I had to get over the shock of seeing the jammie-bottoms and state of the ankle and feet first. I rose cautiously but with haste as the bladder was being tested somewhat. As I grabbed Metal Mickey and made for the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), how much easier the feet felt after yesterday’s farcical visit to the foot lady. I soon realised that I had not taken last night’s Hemp capsule; that’s probably why I sprang awake so early… Just guessing, mind! So, I took one and went to the kitchen to make a brew of Glengettie to get me going.

Decided to Christen the new Hob kettle delivered yesterday. Well, the instructions were printed so tiny! Me struggling with the eyes, Saccades Sandra, Glaucoma Glenda and Cataracts Kathleen, reading them was a no-no! But hey, how hard can it be to muck-up using a kettle?

Well, dead easy for me, as it happened! The kettle looked alright; until it came to take its lid off! Bruised my fingers and banged my knuckles on the handle when the cover eventually gave way… Cleaned the inside and outside. Finding a maximum level of fill mark limit. This on the left is the kettle filled up to the maximum line.

Two mugs of water! Harrumph!

Carer Sobia (I think) arrived to sort me out. She spent a few moments letting me natter. ♥

Pressed on updating yesterday’s blog and got it finished, posted it off. Went on the WordPress Reader section. Replied to some comments from Tim and Bill. Then had a look at the state of the flat.

It was not a pretty sight!

I pondered on getting some cleaning done… Then, I considered some more but realised that I had to get Josies’ Sunday lunch done again. I say again, because yesterday, Saturday, I thought it was Sunday, which is today. And made her one yesterday – What a pillock! You see?

Off to the kitchenette, made up the chillies beans, chestnuts, tomatoes and four kinds of beans (already soaked from yesterday, but not put in the pan), ingredients and seasonings, kept checking things and back on the computer.

Oh, the kettle... I can’t hear the whistle when it goes off. Which was a little annoying. Not much!


First, try to do the blood pressure; it was apparent that I’d either died or may have made an Accifauxpas?

The second attempt was a successful effort – albeit a rather higher than recent Blood Pressure reading. The pulse rate was within the given limits… I think?

Cor, blimey, luv-a-duck! Talk about a low body temperature! Summat is wrong here… surely?

Nipped to check on Josie’s meal cooking and put some treats on the tray, ready to be delivered to her door in a while when the chilli is all done and dusted. I’ve tried a little extra black bean sauce in it this time.

Little Inchies fungal lesion has burst again. What a bloody mess! PP’s, lounge pants, the bottom of the shirt and the legs all needed sorting out, and in a hurry too, or Josies’ nosh might spoil! On with the cleaning up, I’ll leave the medicating until after I’ve sorted the Sunday lunch out… I’m not looking forward to that! Fed-Up? Me?

Pepped, presented and popped the tray of fodder to Josie’s flat. Back to my flat, and realised after perusing the TV schedule that three FA Cup (football-soccer) matches were shown almost after each other, and the third was Nottingham Forest – Liverpool… That was it! Everything else stopped, and I made a meal to eat while the first match was on. Down in front of the telly, and apart from wee-wee demands, I remained there for hours and hours…

I was not enthusiastic about this match, although I wanted Palace to win. Well before the half-time whistle, I fell asleep. I woke up right at the end of the game, seeing a pleasingish result. Made a brew, Porcelain Throned, and ready for the next match to miss…

I was hoping that Southampton might get a good result, them being the underdogs. Not that I say any more than the first half, then as the adverts came on, I nodded off… Ah, well! Glad I missed the thrashing in a way.

Damnations and Globberisations! The half-time nodding off came again! The first half was all Liverpool, as was to be expected, and they had most possession of the ball by a long way – Yet, I was proud of Nottingham Forest’s performance all the same, against a top division squad. They had beaten Arsenal and Leicester in earlier rounds, but Liverpool has always been a curse on Forest!

A genuine nice touch of compassion from Nottingham Forest, in leaving 97 seats empty, in the memory of fans who lost their lives in the Hillsborough disaster. RIP.

I fell asleep during the adverts on the telly again and woke up with Forest down a goal. Not that I really wanted to see the goal, but there was a repeat on another channel, and I watched that, which showed the goal. It also showed me how much better the reds were playing. No disgrace in losing like they did!

I was about to do my ablutions, and the door chime chimed its ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune. Had the Carer arrived early?

It was poor Josie. She had had an accident, she said… Bless her, she seemed genuinely upset. She’d dropped the small maroon Chilli-stew bowl and broke it. I put her mind at rest and made light of it, beaming my bestest smile at her, telling her not to fret… it can’t be helped. When it comes to dropping things, I take some beating, Hahaha!

The evening carer arrived minutes later. Her name was… erm…? Sophia? Who sorted me out with the medications. I decided to make a brew of Glengettie, and to my surprise, the sunset, which was previously dour and grey, had gone into a maroon-red mode. So, I took these snaps of it. Almost pastel colours tonight?

Got my head down and nodded off in no time; Grrreat!

I woke a few hours late in a semi-panic-mode. There was no option for me; I had to get up and have a Sherlock Holmesian investigation; I just knew something had been missed… I just knew I’d not done something or left summat on or off that should be the other… I was fully awake and as alert as I ever will be… fear of an unknown Accifauxpa or Whoopsiedangleplop were the driving force.

①: I started by checking the wet room’s taps, fearing finding a flood… Nope, all looks fine?

②: Then into the junk room to check if I’d left the iron on. Or the board up… Left the mini-vacuum on charge? Nope, all looks fine?

③: The danger Zone next, the kitchenette! Faucets both off. Nope, all looks fine?

④: The stove, had I left the new kettle on? Nope, all looks fine?

⑤: The microwave, Nope, all looks fine?

⑥:  The fridge door? Nope, all looks fine?

⑦: The windows secured? Nope, all looks fine?

⑧: Back into the recliner room-computer room. TV, the computer turned off? Cameras been left on charge? Nope, all looks fine?

⑨: Balcony doors? Telephone off the hook? Nope, all looks fine?

⑩: Still, the sense that something had not been done, or done that shouldn’t have been, lurked in my bonce? This was terribly mind-unsettling. I even went to look at the flat door… I don’t know why I did, but… Nope, all looks fine?

⑪: I checked all the lights and powerpoints. They all looked safe and were on or off as each needed to be.

This bugbear sentiment was joined by the ‘Thought Storms’ when I tried to get my head down again. Which naturally set off other worries, uncertainties and fears, ripping through the brain at such a rate it was impossible to concentrate on finding any solutions or ideas that may calm things down in the brain-cells…

This nagging, gnawing, pestering idea that something is wrong really got to me. Even when the Thought-Storms eventually ceased, I continued to think of what the

heck it could be – something I’d forgotten to do, most likely… Thanks, Dementia Doreen!

Ode To The Day

The day was miserable, and I felt bolshy…
No… a better word, is unappreciatory,
Cause things weren’t all Whoopsidangleploppery…
Niggles, failures, and wee-wees oversprayingily…
Unconfident, then again, I’m like this daily!

I was speaking to myself almost multilingually…
Nottinghamian, swearing; my thoughts subtextually,
Self-pity and hatred popping up continually…
Thought-Storms raging perpetually…
None of them being approvingly…
Every one of them, ruefully…

Thank You