Month: March 2022

Inchcock: Diary-Belated Photographicalisations 1.2⅑th

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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!

Hahaha!

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

Inchcock v Alto Inchie – Verbal Battle

/ Inchie / 25 Comments

I was woken with the sounds of Alto blasting in my brain, boy, was he in a pig-of-a-mood! Spurred on by an overnight lack of sleep that had got me in a foul mood, as well! Resolutely, I tried to give him some suitable magniloquence and verbiage back.

Did I succeed? What do you think?

Oy! Dog breath… yer ignorant git…

Erm… er… what?

You’ve not talked to me for days now! Why? Yo losing interest or summat? Can’t argue or question owt? Gerrin’ old? You ought to…

Hang on, hang on… What are you ranting abarght?

You, yer fubuckler, just cause your scared to death, fear of me and I always win the verbalisationing arguments? You’re a lily-livered chicken when it comes to confrontations…

Zzz!

You plastic spastic! You’ve fallen asleep on me?

Alto’s only physical damage he can cause to me came into play. He sent his famously ear-cringing gurgling sound through my head; it is loud, irritating and even painful at times… It worked, and I stirred back into imitation life…

Oh, you gurgling git! Shithead! Can’t you see how tired I am? I got had very little sleep last night…

Good! I’m considering reporting you to the Alto & ID disciplinary committee; falling asleep on an Alto? Anyway, I know you’re knackered and have bad earholes; that’s why I gurgled you! Dumbo!

Oh, dearie me… can’t we have a standard argument without the insults and nastiness? I’m sure other humans who have Altos in attendance are not always getting hassle from them…

Hahaha! No! You don’t understand the intentions of the Alto duties. The opposite of IDs. Being as much bother and bringing as much misery to your allotted human is the basic instructions given to us…

Do you actually know any other Alto’s then?

Yer… we meet up sometimes, usually, when our humans are ill in hospital or summat like that – we ain’t allowed to hassle them then, for some unknown reason…

Ah! So you don’t know it all then? Not so clever after all?

I’m clever enough to know that you have lost interest in your Alto! I must know why…

As I said, you’re not so clever then? It’s simple enough, Alto; I’m so worn out with the physical ailments and no sleep… and admit I had lost interest and was pleased when you gave me a two-day break from your bickering last week…

Rest? You think I wanted you to rest! Oh, no, it was a ploy to regain your awareness of our superiority and dominance; we have to perpetuate and spread the news of our leaders of the significant anthropomorphism, thus confusing our humans even more… diminishing the likes of you, in confidence and…

Hold your horses, you’re not going to confuse me with using big words; I am known as a bit of a sesquipedalian missen... although on this occasion you did beat me… Carry on…

It boils down to me having to keep you on tenterhooks permanently. But if yer going to find wasteful time for sleep, you are not paying me enough attention… now that’s logical innit?

Erm… Do humans need sleep, though? Surely?

Yes, yes, yes… But you are greedy! You’ve had to my knowledge, at least two hours kip last night! Wasteful, mate! You must allow your Alto to address your mind detrimentally at all times…

Oh, great! Nowt to with wot, we were on about, but how do you get nourishment to have survived so long?

Eh?

You know, like we humans need food and sleep. Don’t Altos then?

Oh, no! We get gratification and nourishment each time we get a human going, excited, angry or sobbing their hearts out. Occasionally we may take a sip of your blood… but that’s just so we can locate you in the rare event of you escaping your Alto… I’ve never lost one in over 2000 years…

Did you ever get a famous human allotted to you then?

Oh, aye! I got a chap called Hitler recently. Easy meat, I had him going mad with two years! I almost got Puking Putin; I was down to get him, but you lived too long, and I missed my chance… not that I hold anything against you for that… you overaged, decrepit, uneducated, unsocial sick-loner, ugly, stupid, little-willied, ass fetus! Still, in the land of the witless, you would be King. You’re a ninnyhammer of the highest order, a git with an iron-cross. And you, a guttersnipe, has the nerve to fall asleep when I’m working? You ought to have your testicles torn-off, hung drawn and quartered. You are not worth…

Boy’s, boys… I can stand by no longer… my sweet Angels… Such hatred and so many insults are being bandied about… Is this right? Great ID leader in the ether! Why so, my dearest children?

Erm…

Who the hell are you to get involved, ID? It’s me that’s been insulted…

Indeed, what did you, a self-proclaimed Alto of Alto’s do? Gave back insults and put-downs ten-fold, just because an ignorant human misunderstands?

Wot yo gonna do abarght it then Inchies Id? There’s nowt what you can do to change an Alto you know…

Indeed, there are several things I could actually do to create remorsefulness in you both… but that would bring me down to your level Alto and even lower if I was to lambast a pathetic human.

Erm… what er…

You’re right, Inchcock; who do you think you are to tell us what to do?

Undoubtedly, just by your two’s behaviour, I am a better, kinder, more understanding ID than you are Alto or Inchcock. I intend to have words with you to guide you along the path of righteousness, kindness and compassion… I have to teach as a female form of a spectre, gnomai, phantasm, succubae or plain ID, whichever you chose to brand me with! Through psychoanalysis, educate the part of the mind in which innate instinctive impulses and primary processes are manifest, thus releasing stress… Bear with me, pay attention, and a new opening will appear – full of pleasure and indubitably, a solution to your naughty, unnice, unpleasant ways of communicating within the shared human form will be found. And happiness will replace the bitterness and jealousy you have shared since the human was born… Now listen…

Inchies ID launched into a sleep-inducing marathon lecture for the next three hours. After that, I could no longer contact Alto-Inchy, and I fell asleep.

I hope that Alto-Inchie comes back to see me in the morning – blimey I do!

Inchcock: Diary-Belated Photographicalisations 1.2

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

Including revelations from Inchcock’s past!

Oh, yes! and an Ode, too!

A mixed bag of Moon pictures from the kitchenette window.

I tried both cameras as well. Only the last one was any good. Hehehe! There were plenty of absolute failures taken, though.

Peripheral Neuropathy Pete struck at just the wrong time again! He’s clever at doing that, a cunning ailment indeed! Haha! I was just pouring the boiled water into the mug to make my Glengettie brew!

Memory Prompting old snap!

revelations

If I recall correctly (I sometimes do), this was taken in the back yard of Co-op Grocery store number 118. Arleston Drive, in Wollaton. I started there as Greengrocery Manager. During the happiest working days of my life! Boss, store Manager, Mr Morris. Got up to Assistant Manager of the store… and made a terrible choice, in accepting a job in Beeston, as the Greenfruit – Wet Fish shop manager. I often wondered over the years what would or could have happened career-wise if I’d stayed in Grocery as Mr Morris’ second man. Cause the Greater Nottingham Co-op got a new chairman, who unfortunately oversaw the retail foods departments. He closed the bakery, the cobblers (shoe repairers), and opened Superstores, the first being in Trowel, a couple of miles away from Lily Grove, where my shop was situated. Of course, they had lower prices, and my sales went down 33% the week the store opened! So… they closed it, along with many more small retail outlets.

The real sadness was that when I first saw him at the next shop, I was put in, another one due for closure, on Nuthall Road. I’d increased sales at that shop, mainly the wet fish sales, they were up 45%. But meeting him brought out the hatred for him in me. He was a smug know-all. I made it worse when he asked where I got catfish from. I picked up what he thought was catfish, told him I get it from Rossfish in the market – and told him, “It’s not catfish, it’s called Dogfish!” With all his conies and bum-lickers with him, this did not go down too well with his ego! Me laughing might have made things worse. After that, the hatred was mutual.

Until the new Superstore opened, a Bulwell Superstore, half a mile away! I was trying to sell cod fillets at 3/6d a pound, and the Superstore was retailing at 2/- lb! I was doomed!

He made my life a misery for years! When I moved to Tesco, I prayed he’d call in to laugh me off, but he didn’t. Probably just as well; it may have saved him from a few broken teeth and me from a prison sentence! Gawd, I was livid at the man!

But all came good years later, the Greater Nottingham Cooperative Society went bust! Hahahahahahahaha! The Co-operative Wholesale Society bought them out, and the first thing they did was close his miracle superstores! But I’d like to have seen him once more, just to laugh in his fat superior face! Still, that’s enough of that!

♫ Food, Glorious Food ♫

Just look at the healthy foodstuffs I had delivered! Bananas, Baked bean & cheese pasties, Cheese twists, fresh garden peas from Nicaragua. Potato and leek pie! Only one packet of smoked bacon this week. Apple pies instead of cream cakes? I did overdo the lemon & lime possets, I admit. Well, they were half-price!

Getting the fodder into the fridge, a minor calamity took place. As I took this photo above, the possets fell off the shelf, one hitting the corner of the drawer below and chipping some plastic off of it… I hastened to make sure that the other jars were safe from falling further…

I trod on the splinter of plastic! Well, the blood flowed! It messed my socks, feet, slippers and the freshly mopped floor. But did I swear and curse? Of course, I did!

I was in the middle of sorting things out. I’d done the floor, and I was in the wet room, tending to the feet and socks and a change of clothes. I thought I’d heard a bell or chime from somewhere? I limped naked into the front room and had missed a call on the mobile, so I rang the number back. The Hairdressers in Winwood Court also do chiropody, telling me my appointment to have the plates done; it was in 20 minutes!

I was a little flummoxed as I rushed to get the dressing done, got the trousers on, left the socks for Sarah to put on for me after doing my feet, checked things for safety, no taps running, owt on the stove etc. and fell chuffed as I left the flat, thinking I can just make it in time…

As I got to the lift, a chap from the other end smiled at me… and said, “You know you’ve got your pyjama bottoms on?” Der!!! I replied that I do now, thanks!

Scrambled back into the apartment, changed into the trousers, and legged it to the hair salon as fast as possible. I may have been a minute or two late. Judging by the glaring look that I got when I entered, possibly a little longer. Oh dearie me! But it got worse… I had the feet done, then slipped her a can of G&T in thanks, and started to wheel the walker trolley out of the door.

I again got the same threatening look as she said: “Are you going to pay then?” No trace of a smile involved! Oh, things are not going well; Dementia Doreen is having a ball with me!

I got back up to the flat and cautiously made a brew of Thompsons Punjana. I say cautiously, cause the kettle is kaputt, and I have to use a saucepan of water – high-risk that, if Peripheral Pete, Shaking Shaun, or Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley should kick-off!

I checked on the order for a kettle on Amazon. Says it is coming tomorrow… It says tomorrow, by 22:00hrs, the tracker says it has not even near to arrived for despatch yet? Hmm! I was hoping it would come sooner; I’m risking s good scalding using the saucepan.

Nosh: Bean and cheese pastie. Two cheese twirls, yellow tomatoes and tons of fresh garden peas. Haha! Flavour: 8.2/10.

Moon from a distance.

Ah, that’s better!

Another decent effort, I’ll try again… I did. I’m too ashamed to show three smudged shaky efforts and this one below…

When I got back and worked on the blog for a good while, I suddenly panicked that I may have left the tap running when I had to dash out to the foot-lady… I shot like lighting to check on the wet room… Well, that’s a lie, but I hobbled as hastily as I could. I am glad to report that I had not left the faucet running at all…

However… I still nearly fainted when I got in the wet room? I’d left the convertor heater on full blast! What a wally!

A sunset from which day, I’ve no idea. But it’s pretty?

If the SD card does not fall apart again and the card reader on the computer is behaving, I’ll have a look later to see if there are any more pictures on there I’ve not put on. Ah, got some!

Forgot about them, me? Yes!

Well pleased with these figures… again!

Body temperature up a bit; it reminds me of the quiz show on the telly years ago, the Golden Shot with Bob Monkhouse. Do you remember it? It was not a brilliant show, but it was so good when Mr Monkhouse compared it. Poor Charlie Williams, who took over when Bob left, was lost. He was a great comedian all the same.

Hello, I got one more sunset photo in tonight! Bootiful!

Ode To My Photographicalisationings

Why is the quality of my photos varying?
Well, there are several reasons, some being…
Firstly, there’s Shirley’s-Shoulder-Shuddering…
Dizzy Dennis is always ready and lurking…

Peripheral Neuropathy Pete… now theres’ a thing!
He can make me wobble, things go dropping…
My right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing!
Nasty, if I’m Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucketing!
Even taking a Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling,
Throughout the room, the wee-wee goes sprinkling!

Vascular Dementia Doreen, the one I’m fearing…
She gives my memory and brain a pommeling!
Reflux Roger, thankfully now rarely troubling…
Duodenal Donald can be bad, he’s not piffling!

Next, the latest big three ailments arriving…
Cataracts Kathleen, the most serious warning…
48 weeks to wait, before a consultants scheduling,
Right eye worse, with Saccades Sandra troubling…
Glaucoma Gladys, the eyesight is now failing…

The oldest ailments, that are still surviving?
Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, Phimosis, can he sting!
Mechanical Heart Valve, no need for alleviating…
Especially as it is thankfully working!

Another ailment that doesn’t affect picture taking…
The ear holes have long been handicapping…
Now, the ear wax in them is tightly congealing,
I can’t hear the telephone ringing,
Hear the radio or television playing…
Hardly hear the chap upstairs banging and knocking…
But of course, the last line is an advantage!

Try to make them Laugh Series

Inchcocks Local News Snippets – With Odes – Part 854⅐th

/ Inchie / 24 Comments

A surprising jump in numbers, innit?
If it keeps on rising, we could be in the shit!
I hope the old face-masks still fit…
I bet folks have lost their vaccination chit?
Again the NHS will reach its capacity limit!

Sorry, I’ve gone off subject cause I’m frit…
Putin’s taking our minds off of it?
Puckin’ Putin makes me want to vomit!
We can name-call, posture and discredit…
I fear it’s only Putin that will profit!

Could we not put these animals in the army again?
Sentence them, and send them to Ukraine?
Arm them with their own machetes and Dunblane?
Hopefully, there they will learn how to die immame!
Decency and empathy to them is impossible to train,
Violence, hatred, bullying… that’s their skills and game,
They deserve to be at the bottom of the food chain!

Why do violent attackers get freed so soon, just asking?
Considering the reoffending rate… it’s amazing?
If they are caught, sometimes culprits are escaping?
They laugh at the courts, a slapped wrist; Horrifying!

A 21-year-old accepted to become a student?
Do they not have some sort of appraisement,
Any checks to find mental dysfunctions impediments?
To protect real students from any imperilment?
The end of appeasement is needed, that’s evident!.

So much nasty violence now, I’m feeling so languescent,
At the shortages of any youths that are moral and decent!
Gangs, muggers, knives… are they scared or always temulent?
Or is it me who’s scared and judged things misdempt?.

Another woman and child basher, his name, Mark Place,
Looks like a natural bully, do you see his face?
I reckon he’ll get out and strike again, as always…
Domestic violence, I knew well in my younger days…
I suppose this is why this irks me more in some ways…
In clink, he can play pool for free on the green blaise…
If the cook serves him ketchup for mayonnaise,
He might try to strangle him, and put him in a daze?
Then his pathetic sentence, they’ll reappraise?.

♫A policeman’s lot is not a happy lot♫, they sangeth…
As more violent East European gangs approacheth…
The bobbies of today get little help from the judges…
Youths stealing cars, on drugs… it beginneth…
Lawlessness, can no one else seeth?
Bobbies being smashed in the teeth?
More and more roaming, violent gangs triumph!
Ten-year-old truants, on drugs and drinketh?
Murderers freed early, to kill again as they pleaseth?
Politicians lying, cheating as they requireth?
Teachers stabbed while trying to teacheth?
For the future of Britain… I do really feareth!

Desperate times for the countries diminishing law,
Parole boards are freeing killers to kill more!
We hear little nowadays from the House of Lords?
Cutting the cost of imprisoning, they applaud…
Well to save money… are they all blinkered?
Save victims! Send the violent away… with a chessboard!
A ludo game, and cut back on their food, you coward!
Luxuries, mobiles, cocaine they can get, but I can’t afford!
Can’t get to see my doctor, or mend my motherboard…
A convicted murderer can get both – and kill again afterwards!
Will we ever see proper justice? I’ll be beggared!

Andrious Sidlauskas: Lithuanian immigrant jailed.
Happening a lot innit?

Just thought I’d update you on how my luck is going…
Well, with excitement, I’m not exactly glowing…
3 houses to find… it must be easier going…
To find just one, than to miss them all as I keep doing…
I used to find this free game compelling,
Now, it’s just embarrassing! Hehehe!

.

.

Inchcocks first solo visit to the Slab Square: In 1955

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

Inchcock then & now Haha!

Despite the poverty, I was at my happiest…
In my younger years, and almost positive!
Full of vigour and at my determinest…
I set out one Sunday to slab Square, looking my nattiest!
First time alone on a trolleybus, at my swankiest!

43 Trolleybus in town

The bus ticket cost all of 3d,
Today that would be about ½ a new penny,
I wanted to get a Sunday paper, you see…
Take it to Dad; make him proud of me!
But the newsvendor asked, where’s your Daddy?
I didn’t realise he knew my Dad, Harry!
He told me to take myself home and hurry!
But he did give me a newspaper for Dad, for free!

West Bridgford (WBUDC) bus

So, I did, on a posh, pretty coloured WBUDC,
West Bridgford Urban District Council, you see?
We didn’t argue with adults back then, tactfully…
Agreeing with grown-ups, had desirability…
Cause of their clipping you around the earhole, ability!

I hastened home…

I hurried home, in hope of a visit from Auntie Kerry…
She liked to bath me, which always affected my psychoactivity,
I think she had some habits, mayhaps, eccentricity?
She scrubbed me up well, with dexterity, not dignity!
I always greeted her arrival with emotional glee!
Not understandingly, but happy… and expectantly…
Knowing (praying for) what she was about to do to me! ♥
I longed for her visits, and was her greatest devotee,
And to think that people said we were an odd family? Hehe!

Well, perhaps we were…

How things change… Hehehe!

Good Morning, all!

Inchcock: Thoughts on Imbecilities – In Odes

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

Thoughts on Imbecilities

Vascular Dementia Doreen and the Thought-Storming,
Memory-loss, mind blanks, can be mentally disturbing,
At times depressing, troubling, often gruelling…
Alto-Ego and Inchies brain, arguing, duelling…
Sometimes the mind needs a rest for refuelling,
Here are some of the traits revealed, comedic and appalling!

Arguing with Alto-Inchy…

Conflict often starts when in the wet room, ablutioning,
I’ve only one mirror; I use it for shaving in the morning…
Or with mind-blanks, sometimes, it will be in the evening,
I hate him; he’s superior, nasty and criticising!
This Alto Inchie… the other me… can be baffling…

Mayhaps I need a neurologist or Psychologist visiting?
I hear sounds from the past, traffic, songs, bugling…
Although usually, we are deep in mental brawling…
Me, the one who ends up depressed and caterwauling…
Yet occasionally, Alto-Ego, becomes less insulting?

I suppose I need some form of help, some counselling?
Yet I don’t believe anything can stop my mind from crumbling!
Physically Peripheral Neuropathy Pete can be disabling,
The Stroke ensured I shall forever be struggling…
The Cataracts, Glaucoma and ears are much more worrying…

Yet some days, incredibly, I seem to be coping?
I find that I am actually optimistic and hoping,
I can sort out bits of concern by disentangling…
The feeling guilty for my self-pity, by realising,
Others are worse off and alone too… Humbling!

Stop and Ponder…

The Thought storms may suddenly go into mothballing…
I stop in the front room – it needs cleaning and sorting…
The brain tells me I require mollycoddling…
My fears and depressions certainly need muzzling!
Priorities need arranging and some actioning!

But it’s not easy for me, detail classifying, pigeonholing,
Forgetting, misplacing, quarrelling amidst the schemozzling…
Fears, worries, flash into mind… like anchovies shoaling,
I feel my sanity at times is stumbling on its way to failing,
Do you think the NHS will do mind-surveilling?

Mentally Distorted

I see the view via photographing,
What do you see? Well, according to me…
Somewhere out there; Some folk will be contradicting,
Or a poor sod in the middle of a bankrupting…
A family, communally banqueting?
A Monopoly player cheating?
Someone undoubtedly shoplifting…
A lamb in a field might be bleating?
Or emergency workers, fire-fighting,
Drug gangs, selling, abusing…bloodletting?
A politician… bloviating!
A news reporter, reporting?
An illegal immigrant deporting?
A lucky sod having sex… luxuriating!
Someone up an alleyway, urinating?
First-time home-owners, decorating,
An old age pensioner… constipating!

A Dour Sunsetting

A hard-up family, regretting Brexiting?
A hustler, planning, hornswoggling!
A fiddling bank manager… calculating?
A mugged pensioner, capitulating…
A murderer being freed to kill again – Sickening!
A baby going through the pain of castrating?
A young couple learning about cavorting!
Another freed murderer, celebrating?
A Hari Krishna member chanting,
A water worker, chlorinating?
A Nottingham pick-pocket circulating,
A Politician: World war circumventing?
A pair of gents, cockfighting,
A Policeman, machete and gun confiscating?
Jews and Arabs coexisting?
Ah! Now I’m getting into the land of dreaming…

Bad Parking!

.The Red Van Man – lousy parking…
Parking properly, he’s not contemplating…
Maybe he has not got the ability?
If so, parking without conformity…
Blocking fire engines in an emergency?
He should get a cautioning?
Ah, now I’m remembering…
Private land! So no legal prosecuting…
I’m not surprised; at the laws failing…
They free murderers to do more killing!

Dangerous!

Look at these perfect results above, contrasting…
To yesterday, when the SYS was rising…

Oh, dearie me!

The temperature was ever more declining…
34.1°c, but I’m only witwantoning!

Angel Julia

.American Carer Julia, her kindness is unremitting,
She had another call to do, so not much nattering…
Whenever Julia calls, I find it thrilling…
When Julia leaves, it is somewhat saddening…
For she cheers me so, she’s pleasant, patient and Caring ♥

Lip Smackingly Good!

Do you like the look of the meal above, my dining?
No meat as such, but fish-sticks, without fish in?
The taste of them was breathtaking…
Not too sweet, oven chips, no frying…
And I’m not lying, the most satisfying…
Truly tasty, there’s no denying…
A treat to the taste buds… gobsmacking!
Harry Ramsdens Chip Shop style, well-worth trying!

I find things today are moral-contaminating,
Not that I’ve done much in the improving things contributing!
I’ve drifted along, weak-willed and no consolidating…
Done my bestest to be kind and temper-moderating…
Welcomed, greeted folks, by my bridge building…
Do no harm, I did to help for others, aid-orchestrating…

Now disabilities, old age, vascular dementia I’m getting…
I keep falling over, but not fainting,
Struggle with my ablutioning,
Tried not for others to be abnegating…
The eyes and ears problems get no alleviating,
Let alone actually obtain any treating!

I’m aware of Dementia Doreen; I need sanity-auditing,
My thoughts and intentions… are not completing…
Use of the brain is nowadays complicating,
My decisions, fears, desires are self-conflicting…
I do little to deserve any respect or congratulating,
The Thought-Storms are ever congregating…

The mind seems to be mentally contorting,
The physical side doesn’t stand reporting…
Even taking a wee-wee needs coercing!
From logicalness, I think I’m distancing…
Any paperwork is confusing and inconveniencing!

Memory, or lack of, mind blanks, have me cursing…
I need help, mayhaps a little nursing?…
No, perhaps some rejoicing, romancing?
I may get by with some reminiscing?
The brain has little left for downloading!

Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series – In Odes

Sunset Thoughts In Odes

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

“Oy, Inchie…

“Wot?”

“Wot yer doin’ then?”

“Watchin’ the sunset!”

“Wot for? It ‘appens every night, yer burke?”

“I know it does, yer grumpy git! I photograph it most nights yer know…”

“I know that I am a part of yer ain’t I?”

“Then why ask me wot I’m doing then? You drive me to my homebrew, Ooh!”

“I dunno, just to piss you off, I suppose!”

“Sarcasm from you always flows…”

“Do you know, we’re talking in prose?”

“Go on then, let’s keep it up, see how it goes?

“The Carer will be here soon, let’s see who loses the odeing, you know?

“Just look at how the dying sun still glows..”

“I bet you’d get a better pattern as a Filipino?”

“I hear out there, they drink cappuccino?”.

“Do you like Pizzas from Domino?”

“What’s that got to do with the Ode, dumbo?

“Sod-all, you’ll soon be back on the Vino…”

“You’re in a barmy-mood? Why don’t you just go?

Cause I also want to see the sun’s dying glow!”

“I’m not having that; you a naturist? No, no, no!”

“That’s not nice, do yer want your blood to flow?”

“Ah, but you can’t hurt me physically, though!”

“Not my style, but I can send you loco!”

“Ha! I’m already bonkers; you’re too slow!”

“You are a saddo, fatso, and have no gusto!”

“Go on knob-end, tell me summat I didn’t know!”

“Well, the sun’s beginning to go…!

“I wish you would go; you damage my ego!”

“Why do you have to live on the 12th-floor in Council flats? Can’t you afford a bungalow?”

“Leave me alone. You’re always digging at me; you’re making my anger grow…”

“In the flat, it must be like the Alamo! Waiting for death, in agony, another coffin-seeking Bozo!”

“The Alamo? Well, my life seems to be connected like an imbroglio…”

That much, I understand and know…

“I don’t get out much, so?”

“With your luck, if you did, someone would stab you with a stiletto…”

“Or you stay-in, and old father time will soon say, time for you to go, cheerio!…”

“You being a defeatist would mumble, Righteo!”

“You may even ask him, is there time for one last bacon sarnie, with sourdough?”

“Have yer done? Taking the piss and having your fun?

“Aha! Pillock that didn’t rhyme. I’ve won again, I’ve won!

“Rollocks!”

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh-In Ode, Series

Inchcock’s Belated Photographicalisations

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

Made a mess of writing that – Tsk!

Sunsetting Shots. I think from Sunday

The Iceland delivery, Monday.

What a selection! Strawberries, shortcake beef pasties, BBQ chips, microwave sausages, steak slices, and battered fishcakes! Methinks that I’ll eat well?

Continuing the fine dining theme… (Hehe!) Gastro chunky fishcakes in with peas, smoked haddock fishcakes, Chip shop chips, and cheesy potato gratins. Gannet! Mmm!

With me getting the new fish products, the big bag of chips, and some mini-iced suckers, making room in the freezer was a work of art. Hahaha! I took some products out of their boxes to get them in. At the time, I was chuffed with my realising that the cooking times and temperatures were on the cartons, so I placed them to one side to be trimmed and cut out the instructions to go in the drawer…

No sooner had I finished storing the food away than I saw the cartons, ripped them up, and put them in the waste bin. Pillock-Brain! After sorting all the fodder, I took the bag and deposited it down the chute with the other rubbish!

The fridge was far from filled.

.

The aforementioned cock-up as I threw away the removed out of date foods, and cooking instruction labels, away down the waste chute, never to be seen again.

What looks like a bit of luxury living style below? Two mini apple pies and a Viscount mint chocolate treat; on a swath-looking gold plate for a nibble. But, of course, photos can be misleading. It is a paper plate, but it looks natty? Har-har!

Kept up a fairly constant tap-tapping, with the odd clunk was thrown in throughout the day. But, Mr Superior wasn’t excessively noisy with it, just annoying. I was glad the hearing was so bad.

Took this shot below as I entered the kitchenette. A bit dark…

So took this one with the flash on…

That’s better!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Attending Carers

Richard.

Julia

Ilfra

Carer Helen

Left ankle morphing into I know not what? Haha!.

Monday’s Sunsettings’

Monday’s Fish Supper

Evening all!

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – With Odeing

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

Crime in Nottingham, enough to send you demented…
Oh, Dementia Doreen already has my mind fragmented,
Price rises on everything; I’m genuinely wherrited!
Compassion, empathy and caring have been disrupted…
No, better words are demolished and corrupted!

Police Assault Increase

Different targets, to beat-up… it’s the truth…
This will please the thirteen-year-old youths,
Who attacked and knocked out a coppers’ tooth!
Or the twelve-year-old, driving a car into a flatfoot…
A sixteen-year-old stabbed and kicked an officer, to boot!

From giving adequate sentencing, the law is abstaining…
A murderer arrested gave the officer a bludgeoning…
However, the criminal is not complaining…
He got his early release after campaigning…
Our legal system needs condemning!

Another murder?
This doesn’t inspire…
Things are getting direr…
Death by ed by fire?
Killed by a burglar?
Mayhaps a genocider?
Emotions and fear, a quagmire!
Crime, accident? I’ll hangfire

Arson?

A requirement to do two thirds?
Gawd, our judges, are soft turds!

Huh!

Top report on Covid, +22,8% new cases over the last fortnight,
Another peak will put us all in a plight…
Bottom report 40% increase… we are in the kite?
Anti-maskers again ready to fight!.

More policemen injured working,
Courts still spanking wrists, befuddling!
Got bail, free, to attack again – backpedalling?
For the police, this must be very galling!

Words fail me!

Violence is rampant now…
Take that, thump, kick kapow!
Instead of having a pow-wow,
From Newcastle to Hounslow…
Guns, knives, and fist blow…
Last week, burglars used a bow & arrow!

Was this caused by sleeping with the wrong fellow?
Or did too much-shoplifted alcohol freely flow?
Did someone not return a borrowed wheelbarrow?
A dispute over unshared winnings at Bingo?
Did one think it right to whistleblow?
Did one pass on a disease, like, impetigo?
Mayhaps one stood on the others’ hammertoe?
But I really don’t want to know…
Far too much violence and aggro!

Yep!

Odiously ‘Orrible Odes on Ageing

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

Inchcocks advice and tips, for whippersnappers who think they will live forever, in diabolical ode. You Won’t!

Be Prepared

It’s essential that you prepare, cause nobody else will care…
Unless you’re loaded, with plenty of cash to betroth, spare,
Have you spent it? Holidays, big car and you’ve safaried?
I’m just explaining how it will be for you, not to be morbid…
I don’t mind if my tips are not absorbed…
All a part of living is death, don’t be worried!

Oh, and there’s nothing to say that you should be hurried!
You may find that you could later, yourself bedrid…
You’ll need help if yer on yer own, and feeling dogeared,
Paying for Carers must not be feared…
New ailments will by now have reared…
You can expect this; it’s normal, not weird!

The family may call to help, your bank balance cleared,
Your reputation may diminish, become smeared…
Help might be harder to get; tell them you are disorientated…
You’ll make them a beneficiary, you’ll be genuflected!
They may make you a brew, say you’ve been neglected…
Then you may die of poisoning… they’ll be suspected!

If you own your own house, but not if it’s rented…
You’ll be treated well, as is to be expected…
The not seen for years crowd will be attracted…
Looking for the Will, but it won’t be protracted,
It’s essential to avoid them becoming malcontented…
Pick your times when to tell them you’re demented!

Them topping you, at all costs must be prevented,
Promise each one a little extra, don’t get resented!
Unless, of course, death will make you contented…
Tell them you’ve sorted their money, all consented…
But, remember who you’ve promised, you may get assaulted!
Or, at minimum, your face resculptured!

When the Doctor tells you, the end is anticipated…
You may wish they’d told you later, waited…
Unknown relatives calling will be prompted,
Is his name Keith, Tim, Richard or Ted?
Not that it matters, cause you could soon be dead!

Ailments Roster

Stroke, Cataracts Diabetes: To Be Added

In my young days, ailments that were lurking,
Were Polio, Double pneumonia, & getting a caning…
Not that I’m sorry, but of all, I was ailing…
We didn’t have to put up with too much burgling,
Sore throat, toothache? Meant saltwater gurgling,
We knew nowt about Cocaine or methamphetamine!

In my teens, there were very few ailments troubling,
Of course, romance took precedence; ah, romancing! ♥
I got into it, even went to the nightclub, dancing…
But I broke my leg one night, and I was only waltzing!
For Suzie, should I try dancing again? I was dithering…
But she left me when the Twist arrived, very belittling!

I met a gal from near Berlin… who really got me going!
Grizelda her name, big lass, solid-built and liked her gin…
But she had to go home; I was lonely again…
Oh, sorry, from the subject I am straying…
Not precisely an ailment, but I got shot while working…
Made redundant, unfair, and I wasn’t shirking!

Then the ailments started coming, flooding…
Duodenal ulcer, Arthur Itis, needed a new heart put in!
Reflux Roger, eyesight failing, and I lost my hearing…
Sadly, that was the end of motorcycling,
So I bought Robin Reliant, though it was exciting…
Sat in a car park, a lorry hit me, anger was igniting!

Then peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed…
Got shot again, then made redundanted,
Life started backpedalling…
But you can learn from my failing!
It’s no point in wailing…
Life is never plain sailing!

When I had the stroke, then I started wailing,
Hospital four weeks, then a home for the ailing…
For five weeks, it was appalling!
Things got worse, they lost my washing…
Gave me no food one day; everyone else was noshing?
I don’t think I’ll ever again go abseiling?

Weeks later, the eyesight faded more, blurring?
Went to see the optician… revealing…
Cataracts and glaucoma in both eyes, they so sting…
Saccades in the right eye never heard of this thing…
The NHS said there is an average of 48-weeks waiting!
Nothing much-going right, or compensating…

Weeks later, I went virtually deaf, hardly any hearing…
In either lughole… both channels were wax-filling…
Since which, four times a day, the olive oil dropping in…
The left worse than the right, ‘Grumbling!’
Not hearing my doorbell tune ringing…
Not the telephone’s ding-a-ling; this’s frustrating!

I took a tumble in the shower, ablutionalisationing,
You’ll get to accept these; they are a part of being…
Doddery, not having yet mastered the walking stick.
Fears and worries will need camouflaging…
Oh, and shopkeepers will try over-charging…
Or more likely short-changing…

With the arrival of Vascular Dementia Doreen coming…
Means problems with organising and remembering…
Dizzy Dennis, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley bothering…
Thought Storms, your brain will need defragging,
The kettles broke, and the toilet is not flushing…
Hopes for the future, you’ll find languishing!

Sock-Glide-Glenda

Sock-Glide-Glenda, to be used after ablutioning!
Very good for bodily parts mutilating…
It can be avoided by not going out, staying in…
But you’ll have to go out to get your medications and gin?
I can assure you, in Sock-Glide-Glenda executing…
You’ll be injured, cut, bruised or exsanguinating!

I solved this painful problem by hibernating…
In the flat, the brain stopped activating…
No perambulating or hobbling… boring!
Although Carers called, to do the medicating…
Some of them like a little chinwagging,
I look forward to the talking Carer’ visiting!

So, Whippersnappers, this you must be expecting…
Keep your wits about you, when Glendaring,
Germolene, plasters and Phorpain gel nearby waiting,
A blood blister, cut, or bruise can really sting!
Worse if you have a boil or carbuncle erupting!
These odes are just tips; I’m not instructing…
Just future problems for you, detecting…
Please don’t see this ode as floccinaucinihilipilificating!

Overview on Inchcocks’ Life

I’ve led a super-fun life; I’m not complaining,
Lived life to the full, wind, sun or raining…
I’ve had so much sex; it’s been disorientating!
Earnt a fortune – I don’t mean to be drum-beating,
I’ve had battles but can’t remember taking a beating…
I’d got through life with faith, honesty and collaborating,
Oh, there’s just one other thing…
This last verse was all me fibbing!

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh Ode Series