Friday 6th May 2020
We’ll start with
THE LOOKING BACK ODE
Advice-Tips for ankle-snapper included
Whoever thought that we would end up batty?
Or slowly, our body will end up so fatty?
And for Sunday dinner, have a bacon buttie?
Alone, we sit here, not too far from the portapotty…
Fighting off the Thought Storms, recalcitrantly!
See a youngster injure, and enjoy our epicaricacy!
Getting depressed as we realise life’s now an atrocity!
Stuck in a three-roomed flat, full of self ethnocentricity!
Wondering how you’re to pay for this month’s electricity!
Can we blame it on Dementia or our quaint eccentricity?
Of course, misery holds no exclusivity,
We won’t recognise our own depravity…
Yet recall a time when we had debauchery…
Whatever anyone says, we reply with dubiosity!
No fight left; what happened to our audacity?
Now incapable of shoeing any voracity…
And how we drank and ate: It was pure gluttony,
Happy now, with two biscuits for a meal, no edacity…
And, how come the peeing has lost all its velocity?
My adiposity, obesity, and rotundity, cause animosity!
You try in the morning to be gritty… the day ends up shitty!
Give folks a good morning, trying to be neighbourly…
In return, you get dagger eyes with venom and toxicity!
Still, it’ll happen; make the best of it… although it’s a pity!
DIARY OF WOE – FRIDAY
On around the eighth time of jumping awake, and sleep was only for four hours, the annoying tingling from the bladder forced me up and out of the c1968 recliner and over to the grey overnight bucket for a wee-wee. I don’t know why I bothered; I think I’ve got another infection in the waterworks, it took ages to evacuate, and then it was painful and barely a trickle!
I made a start on the graphic for the Crowell Manor blog. 
(I started this blog, but not until Saturday, so no memories to use) Many of my notes for this blog became unreadable due to my stupidity in a rush to record them. Squiggles are too small to read! I’ll skip any that I’m unsure about and just copy those I can understand, so it may be a short double-diary from here on in for both Friday and Saturday… Sorry.
Shit comes to mind as a suitable explanatory word of how I felt! Got some photo’s uploaded on the first try! YES! I thought it might have cured itself, but it was back to hit and miss, with many more misses than hits to the later ones! It got even worse later on…
Crap Service, crap lying company, and it should be… never mind!
15:10hrs, I got the blog finished and posted off.
INR DVT nurse came.No, honestly! I think I may be in love here again… Hahaha! I should imagine that my being 62 years older than she is, a good foot shorter, I’m carrying a few stones more than I should – and wobbly at that, having Vascular Dementia, being deaf partially and blind, my hopes are not exactly optimistic. But somewhere in the ether lingers the tiniest bit of hope..!
Apparently, Liberty-Global Virgin Media went down three times in an hour! I read more on my memory pad cause I was so angry, I pressed on the pen harder!
Couldn’t get any photos to load at all!
DIARY OF WOE – SATURDAY
HERE WE GO… TRY AGAIN
I was a bit of a mental wreck, worried about not being able to get the photos on the blog… had I missed the Carer, though? Wee-wee, a mug of Glengettie, and sorted through the potatoes to salvage any that could be able to be ‘desprouted’ enough to use. Not many passed the test, but enough for tonight’s meal. Hehe!
I got the Crowell Manor Laboratory blog finished and sent off to WordPress. Then started this one, hoping that the belated photos might get on the computer Sunday for another rescued photographs blog. Hahaha!
Worra Life, Innit?
As one ages; faculties fail… and you feel like a misfit,
You can’t get out, remember owt, or get credit…
Sex is barely a memory… and that’s dying. Dagnabbit!
These are things you’ll live with, cohabit…
A teddy bear, embarrassment at your fleapit…
Ailments galore, memories of once being fit,
Summat else, bleeding when you go for a shit
Names, using, thingamabob & whatchamacallit,
Your once handsome features, now so decrepit,
Putting up with name-calling, like a half-wit, & nitwit,
Desires dying, loins failing, I can’t be any more explicit,
The advantages of Brexit… all a load of bullshit!
.
Excellent odes.. You come with great ending words and rhymes. It would be nice if you could get a better ISP.
Cheers, Tim.
I fear that it may be the bad locations to some degree. Warden Deana said other tenants on different suppliers have been moaning as well? Hmm? Keep well!
Sad.
Too true. All my replies I did yesterday ar no longer showing, has this one?
This one showed up.
I’ve had to go back and do some again, justin case, Tim. Two hours of work lost. (Possibly) Hehe! Cheers.
I heard a lot of people are losing comments and followers. WP must have done an upgrade.
Gawd, blimey, I don’t know if its doing it again, but I’m not getting the green ‘Your comment has been sent’ message? Humph!
Dang me, it came up this time! Oh, heck!
A fine ode on the state of matter and the lack of personal energy, recognizing that many of us share in battling ailments that vex. You know that from firsthand, lefthand experience that we are both the victims of our own device, experiencing the indignity of suffering to fill the coffers of others, sorts sjuch as Michael Fries, those who know the proper manner of dealing with the devil.
Frustrating business enough, but being assailed by our anatomically located ailments brings us to torture chambers and racks. Good to meet one another in this ether 24/7, unless Michael Fries decides otherwise and drops your internet connection, or the noises fulsome created by a Herbert turns an ordinary ceiling into a loudspeaker. Common courtesy is an obsolete phrase, but something that we practice daily on ‘NottinghamBlog.
I like how you have made public the words following each letter in LIBERTY GLOBAL.
We fank you for the fine work on the Crowell Manor Laboratories. You have brought CML to an international audience and let all know about the work we do to make the world reflect something better than the curses of cretins such as Michael Fries and the many who are of his ilk
Interesting how Brexit no longer makes international headlines, now that it has become fixed in concrete accretions — making as much sense as that purchaser of Ready-Mix concrete. Just dump it here and I will work it tomorrow, something that a Nigel Farage might pronounce as a wise decision. A little time back, you mentioned how much further you need to travel to fine a bank, as certain an effect of Brexit as does not get mentioned in the news. I doubt that banks of the EU are shuttering, but HRH and meself need to decide which of our many labs might best address that matter of import. The real stuff gets reported on blogs such as ours, but who would want to clog up the news of the world with something as trivial and banal as TRUTH?
By gosh, what a monologue of wit and truth, Sire Billum the Fillum, author, creator and Humira taker, scientist, red-spot defeater, and laugh-rovider for 72 Woodthorpe Court.
Had me in tucks! (I keep meaning to look up where that saying came from, must try to remember today).
That was quite the monologue, but I had to go on about Brexit because no one else is connecting the dots, dotting the t’s, or crossing the i’s.
I had been wondering where Dominic Cummings had gone, but now realize that he is currently advising Herbert.
As always, I am privileged to provide larfs when they are most needed. Much as it was important to provide limes to seafarers, lest rickets set in. ’tis the proper way to proceed because a larf a day keeps the doctor away. On second thought, the doctor is going to stay away whether you larf or whether you eat an apple.
So far I have not been able to find out where “had me in tucks” originated.
And another smile bringing effort there, Sir… I fank you!
Love the bringing of Cummings and Herbert together. The Brexitters are most likely to deny their past allegiance, methinks.
Nice jibe at the Doctors, Billum, nicely slipped in there.
I’d forgot tp do a search for the saying, when I done this, I’ll try to find it.
Bless yers all!
Herbert is perfectly qualified to run as PM, a self-involved politician. Qualified people are never elected.
We saw two doctors in two days, so that has left us a tad exhausted. Both offered no suggestions for addressing any of Lisa’s underlying health problems. Mostly a matter of reading through the prescriptions on file, and a number of invisible shoulder shrugs and eye rolls. Oh well…
Oh, so disappointing for HRH, again nothing id’d? Grrr!
I know it does nothing, but I shall send a heartfelt gentle cuddle though the ether, and a getnle pat on the back for your worthy self, Sir! ♥
Actually, knowing that you send a heartfelt cuddle is knowing that you are an excellent fellow, a close friend, and a worthy mensch. And I can feel that gentle pat on my formerly red-spot-ridden back. Thankfully, all those spots are gone!
Oh, good.
Aha… No longer a lesser-spotted Professor, an upgrade to a None Red-Spotted Professor!
I like it!
Found what it might mean, but no origin, Billum: To laugh hysterically, so that you can barely breathe.
Person 1: Let’s take you, add me, subtract the clothes, divide your legs and multiply.
Person 2: I was in tucks when he said that!!
We have that “tied in tucks” expression here as well. Maybe it is referring to someone who is having a straight-jacket fitted, that might cause some hysterical laughing and created some difficulty with breathing. It is probably of English origin, possibly Dickensian — where the only laughs are hysterical.
I like that dialogue, Sir. The opening lines of a play genre, theater of the absurd. All you need now are a few hundred more lines, the stranger the better.
Good lucketh!
Well, I give up searching now, Billum. Here is the last gasp search result: https://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/english/tuck
Surprised its used in the US of A, I don’t know why I am though. Hehe!
Cheers and I hope all the Manors personages and animals are well. ♥