Inchcock Today: Decision-Making Ode

Decision-Making Ode

To give up and let whatever will be, be,
Inchcock needs help, an advisee…
His confidence is low, can’t hear nor see correctly,
Sorting timing and transport problems presently…
Memory and mind blanks are persistently…
Worryingly scary words, guilt at being so portly?
Can’t communicate… he’ll need help shortly…

He’d like assistance without condescension…
Problems with his hobbling obamulation,
Going out? His last two trips caused panic hortation,
He wee-weed himself, oh, vociferation!

Staying in now, he expects a call from the hospital,
Missing it could be fatal… to the depression, he’d hurtle!
His mind’s confused; it does justle and jostle …
Poor old sausage… he worries more than a little!

Before the stroke, he was no mathematician…
Now he needs the help of a physician…
What can he do? He struggles in making a decision!
Mind blanks and tumbling seem his new religion?

Appointment with the can’t test him yet, optician,
Cataract ops first to correct his vision.
Same with his local dentician…
Good job, he hasn’t got a cosmetician! (Haha!)

Small print from the NHS and bank in unison…
This means letters and texts have little comprehension,
Causing the lad even more worry and tension,
He really needs looking at by a diagnostician!

He drew his fretting to the attention of the warden,
Feeling embarrassed, to him begging, is alien…
Warden Deana arrived for a helping me out session,
Who arranged transport for me? My thanks and veneration!.

Then, he felt cared for and cheerier, no question!
So, time to fret over other things, like his fundoplication,
shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Little Inchies Fungal lesion…
And the Cataracts forthcoming double operation…
Hid new rear-end boils, a painful conglomeration…
Also, Inchcock’s ear-holes blockage and tintinnabulation…
Worry about his glaucoma and banks documentation,
Not to mention his bank accounts dwindling emancipation!

Deana was his Carpathia, saving lives on the Titanic,
Although Inchie still looks like he’s going brassic…
Her help today was something of a tonic…
His life no longer seemed so chronic!

He even started whistling, although not acoustic,
It’s never been his most vital attribute, singing…
Then again, he’s always been gently altruistic,
Soft and daft as a brush from a yearling…

Inchcock’s Educationing

He missed out on schooling and educationing.
He’s never grasped algebra, geometry or arithmetic,
Yet he’s always had a yearning, desire for learning…
As a lad, he’d double pneumonia, constantly sick…
I don’t know how he ever made a living?
He was well-known as a bit of a schmendrick!
Always getting beaten up or something…
Mother ever being taken down to local nick…
He was spotty, with the littlest ever ding-a-ling…
He took a lot of verbal and physical stick,
So it didn’t bother him that he couldn’t sing.

He coped with thumps and insults from many a bully?
He was a whimp who never answered aggressively…
He plodded on, hiding from being treated abusively…
There was little he ever achieved, ruefully…
Scared of water, he played hooky every Thursday…

That was the swimming lesson day, nobody noticed…
For two years of playing hooky, he was not missed,
Dad took him to the fair and visited a hypnotist…
I think it should have been to a psychiatrist,
The 11-plus, Mummy was on the run, so that he missed,
In meaningless employment, he languished,
But he grew up the shabbiest; he became a motorcyclist!
When old enough, he became an alcoholic, always pissed!
Oddly enough, it’s similar now… he’s still not missed,
He wears protection pants; he’s pissed at always pissing!

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

Aha, got some photos uploaded!

I believe this was Wednesday’s nosh. Of microwave veggie sausages, disappointing Icelands crispy chips (That weren’t), and red and orange tomatoes. Not too bad a plateful. Taste: 6.6/10.

Wednesday’s sunset. I’m finding it hard to stay up for the later evenings now the clocks have been forwarded (I’ve even got all on mine done now… Haha!) Variations on a theme, I’m calling it.

Thursday morning rising.

Wen to make a brew of Glengettie. And I spotted from the kitchenette window the rather heavy rain that was raining down,

I took this shot through the narrow bottom pane of glass, camera up against the window. Gave it a different aspect… which reminded me of Grizelda (Slight movement in the lower regions).

Took the last two a few hours later on Thursday.

Incidentally, at this point, I took my eleventh wee-wee of the morning. Cor, blimey!

Three more wee-wees and an hour or so later, I went to mash the second mug (Thompsons’ Punjana this time) of tea. I snapped this one of the houses in front of the tower block.

I must say, it came out reasonably well. An accurate representation of the local dwelling at the front of Woodthorpe Court flats.

The rain was a lot lighter at last, as it shimmers on the roadway of what I think is Elmswood Gardens… a sort of modern-day Coronation Street… perhaps not!

Afternoon Chestnut Way ends car park investigation. The parkers, the red-van-man, continued with his fear of white guidelines for parking between, then I went to the kitchenette to assess the choice of vehicle colours.

The evening Carer arrived, treats were offered. Got ready to get my head down and took what I guesstimate as my 24th wee-wee of the day. Hope things calm down soon!


13 thoughts on “Inchcock Today: Decision-Making Ode

  1. I’ve been saying that you need an assistant and advocate for a long time. Nice photos. Well arranged meal with a mediocre score.

  2. Decision-making is a good topic for the very thing you are best at: ODEING. No one on the planet writes better odes than the poet laureate of Nottingham, now residing at the Thorpe of the Woods. I am thinking that we need a place on the interwebs to celebrate their value: *Odes for Every Occasion*. Perhaps a wiki would work well, a place where those suffering from a deficiency of odes could find solace. You already enjoy a world audience by commanding IT daily, Sir! Good on ya, kind Sire!

    • Praise indeed, Mon Ami. Coming from such a celebrated Lesser-Spotted Professor Billumski, t’is an honour, indeedum!
      Young Richard has been, and was in fine form for me, nattering-wise. The food delivery arrived, and Rich checked the dates on them for me. I’d nade a cock-up and ordered salmon cakes not potato cakes, and beef pie instead of leek and onion. He was kind enough to take them from me, thus not wasting food! The delivery driver tool the bags through to the kitchen for me, so all is temporarily mayhaps, well up in the Sherwoodian sky flat. Well, apar from the slippers splitting open on me. Hahaha! I said!
      I may slip this in todays blog… or not… maybe, perhaps.
      Best regards from Nottingham 🇬🇧 to all at Fort Thomas. ♥ 🇺🇸

      • Yes, the spots are much reduced and are getting a lighter shade of pale than ever.
        Good of Richard to feed two birds with one scone by lightening your load of unwanted salmon cakes and beef pie. A perfect result.
        Split slippers are hazardous thee carefully.
        Greetes to all Sherwoodians who live closer to the sky than the denizens of Crowell’s Stately Manor and Cat Shelter, where even the homeless hobo cats can find a meal waiting for them at the rear door.

      • ♫A lighter shade of pale♫ Billum? Haha!
        RIP to the slippers from me,
        Bought them from Amazon last may…
        Splitting so early caused dismay…
        I’ll get some more one day…
        Of the same kind? Oh, nae!
        Besest wishes in return to Crowell Statley Manor tellurians. ♥

      • I’ve always enjoyed the lyrics for whiter shade, a nice melody too.
        Well, yer almost got a full year out of those slippers, Sir. I like the slippers that give you support around the heel. Also a plus if they do not split in less than 12 months.
        Furry of the manor, Nibbles, is requesting a Saturday morning nosh by wagging her tail against my left hand.
        I leave you to skip the light fandango and do cartwheels ‘cross the floor.
        Good lucketh on yer next pair of split-proof slippers (particularly when you are doing cartwheels across the floor).

      • Hahaha! Cheered one up a smidge that one, Billum. I fanketh you.
        As I read of nibbles, it brought back Cyrils chin rubbing, which was his way id demanding to be fed. Hehe!
        As for skipping the light fandango & Cartwheeling… well…
        I swsit the arrival of the morning carer… hoping it will a cheerful one… Please!
        Best wishes to all at the Towers. ♥

      • A fun song where someone asks for another drink and, instead, gets a tray. 🙂
        Cyril and nibbles would have liked one another.
        Hope you received a good morning Carer on this Sunday, when the best are needed.
        So far, so good at the Towers of Crowell.

      • Damned good news on both fronts, then, Billumski! Keep up the good jibes over there. Hehe!
        Good carer this morning, chinwag and a larf (essentials of course!). Treated her to her choice of plonk and nibbles.
        Did anyone at the Towers ever get a bit of luck as I thought you might fiscally, mate? If not, I’m going to start ignoring my EQ for misleading me!.

      • Good news on a Sunday is worth more than good news on any other day of the week.
        An offer of plonk or nibble gets noticed by carers. And chin wags are rare, and therefore valuable.
        We have indeed been blessed by the exigencies of well-timed luck, so your EQ remains strongly accurate.

      • Being a Sonntag, I can never relax, especially with such a good start to the day… over five hours restfull sleep, made a start prepping Josies chilli (bit of a whoppsie there mind, Bill), evacuated on the Thone, bloodlessy! Had a visit and natter from a friendly Carer… then… the SD reader suddenly worked!!! But died death half way through loading, but I got some on, and will use them today. Such a good start overall – and I’m still in my jammies, and on my thrid mug of Glengettie… somethings got to go wrong, Billum. Hahaha! Ah, the cock-up ith the chilli: I was doing it initially in the slow cooker today… and remembered I had bought a bottle of gravy browning, and thought, after getting all the veg, seasonings, tomatoes, mushrooms, soya chunks and potatoes chopped and added, that I sprinkle a drop of the browning in to try it… Cataract Katie onervened. I thought there was a built in sprinkler in the top of the bottle – there wasn’t – and half the contents shot into the pan… Oh, dearie me, everything went sticky and black! So I had to rescue the soya by cunningly using the fork, out that in the saucepan, and had to throw therest of it, after draining and bagging it, I took it to the chute. Returned and set about making another chilli. I had some soya that I rescued, but had used the last of the fresh carrots, water chestnuts, gungo beans, and peas in the first effort… Dreadfully disappointing having to use canned mixed veg in the mix! But I’d plenty of seasonings in the cupboard. Josie said how she enjoyed the water chestnuts, mushrooms and chestnuts she had last week. So I may be in for an unfavourable response to this weeks. Mind you, the Carer gal did have look at it andsaid smelt lovely, so maybe I can get away with serving it up to Josie?
        Then, it dawned on me… I’d just used the waste chute, and it wasn’t 06:30hrs yet! Oh, dear, hope I didn’t wake anyone up below my level.
        Hello, Herberts just kicking off, clunking tap-tapping, I think he light be doing it on purpose, always the same weekend or midweek. Git!
        I waffled on ther didn’t I, mate?
        Glad the EQ is still working, and he didn’t notice me questioning his abilities?

      • Spice jars seem to come in two size delivery holes: too big and none at all, as you have experienced. Perhaps they are hoping you will run out and buy another jar. Then you also need to buy more produce to replace the stuff what went down the trash chute. Well, I hope it turned out despite all these cock ups. Herbert cares not about the hour, do he? And there you are worrying about the noise a chute makes when a bag gets dropped into it.
        Thank you for the waffles, they were tasty and just right.
        You probably have the most accurate EQ in the western world. Actually, there is no doubt about it.

Leave a Reply