Thursday 19th May 2022
Woke at 04:20, and I rose from the recliner at 05:00hrs. Why the time gap? Cause I was getting memories of a dream I’d had written on the memory pad to put on here. Wee-wee, and onto the computer.
Everyone in the flats got a text message; no more new tenants were allowed in the apartments. In five years, whoever is left will be transferred into wooden bungalows on the grounds of the City Hospital. I was looking forward to living long enough and moving.
The social room at Winwood Court was converted into a pool room with about twelve tables. We all had to compete, and those with the highest scores would get the first choice of wooden cabins to move into. I was told by a Nottingham City Homes manager, “So? I pointed out that I was colour-blind and had cataracts, glaucoma, and saccades. Roger’s only got one hand, and Ethel is as blind as a bat… anyone considered not social enough will be sent to live in the Salvation Army Hostel. So let’s see some willingness and effort!” I apologised.
Blurry memories then, involving a ski slope, toolboxes, and a day trip out on buses for all of us to Skegness. Ethel and I caught the train home after leaving us behind.
On the day of the move, we all set off walking the mile and a bit with guards and Carers. We advanced in single file and long line, all with suitcases, wheelies, etc. Most of us got lost on the City Grounds. Well, I did. Then after finding the others, I was sent to a Bed & Breakfast place in Newcastle. They booked me a train for midnight.
I was sleeping in a corridor, and someone woke me. Somehow or other, I was in the final of the pool competition, and I didn’t win a single game in the qualifying stages? I don’t recall playing this match at all?
Suddenly, many of us were walking back out of the City Hospital grounds, same again, guards, staff, single file. We walked through a Council House Estate, but I had no idea where we were going and why. But I ended up in a coal cellar… Then shot awake!
I went to make a brew of JS Extra Strong… and clouted my right knee against the cabinet corner. Made the brew and left it to stew. Then needed to use the Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence was losing his grip a little on the evacuation. So, much less time was wasted on cleaning up.
I took an early morning shot of the view from the kitchen window.
I’m hoping that the JS food delivery will be early, and they will deliver the flowers for Jillie.
So, it will leave me plenty of time to get things ready to get down to Jillie’s house with the flowers, bank, and shopping at the Ozan store. I’m hoping they have some of the Herb veg pork in stock and have a nosey around for any other delights that may take my fancy. Hehehe! Apart from Jillie! 💙
Richard arrived, handing me an SD card I could have, damned decent of him, bless him. He had another call, so again could not stay for a chinwag, but I appreciated his generosity. He should be back again the following Monday.
The Sainsbury delivery arrived. Thanks to tp the incompetency of Money-Mad Fries, the $23 million a year boss at Liberty Global, I had no distractions from the no-signal internet on the computer. So I got on with sorting the things delivered out to storage.
As you can see here on the left, fresh foods are topped up and a couple of treats. But they have sent pork pate with pork, not the vegetarian, so that will have to be found a home. There is plenty of date on it, so maybe Richard can have it on Monday. Also, and as well, and besides: Three items short out of stock, but to avoid getting substitutes, like shoe polish for waffles, I ticked the ‘Do Not Substitute’ Button… Cunning? After packing things away, the fridge didn’t look overfull? Had I missed something? Bags of room in the refrigerator still. Have I lost a load of nosh or something? I pondered… I have been known to do this several times a day! Then realised, no yoghourts, no cakes and no leeks, I’ll make an order for Morrisons later.
Not the same story with the freezer, mind you. Well, cram-packed, that is. In fact, I’ve got freeze burns and bruises on my fingers as I fumbled about taking stuff out and rearranging things to make more room for the new stuff squashed and levered and bashed food into the drawers. I felt a smidge smug after sorting it all out! Hehe!
I made the order for Morrisons for Sunday. By which time there should be a little more room. I called Jillie to see which flowers she would prefer, and the gal opted for the roses; nothing romantic was involved in that, I’m too old, and she is too beautiful. But I still love her.
Off to get ablutions. No rush; I think I can take my time and still catch the 10:30hr bus down the hill. I’m not joking here: Harolds’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were not bleeding! No bleeding, shaving, nasal clearing or teeth cleaning! Honestly!
These are never pain-free, as you would expect. But nothing was extreme pain-wise; even ointmentating the lesion had an acceptable Argh-Level!
Fair enough, poor old right-knee Arthur Itis and Cathleen Cartilage came off painfully when I was leaving after doing the medicating when an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about proper leg dance kicked off. I hit my knee on the door frame. I recall being even more annoyed than usual cause everything had gone so well in the session. Got dressed and checked the items needed, and I set off…
THE TRIP OUT!
I put the rebagged flowers in the trolley walker in carrier bags, with some plonk for the Wardens and Jillie. Out, locked the door, in the lift, along the link corridor into Winwood Court, to the Wardens Holding-Cell Offices. Haha! Dropped the Alstroemeria Bouquet for Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion, Warden Julie, and Desktop Dancer and Obersturmbannfuhreress Warden Dean this week. Wished the gals well and out to the bus stop… this was unbelievable!…
I arrived at the bus with almost perfect timing. Four other tenants, who I greeted, were at the bus shelter. I was standing near the kerbside with my bus pass in hand… The 40 Bus sped into and around the turning island… and ignored us all, didn’t slow down an iota, – and he sped back out again? The folks were livid! Shaking fists at the departing bus, shouting, swearing… I think this may have annoyed them somewhat!
I set off wobbling along with the walker-guide trolley. I couldn’t get annoyed with the bus driver until I found out why leaving us. He may well have just got a message on the RT about a family member taking ill? I set off down Winchester Street towards Jillie’s house at the bottom of the road on the left. The right knee caused me some discomfort en route, but knowing I was just about to meet Jillie eased things considerably. Hehe! ♥
I took my time and got to her door. It was a pleasure to see her smiling face as she helped me up the steps with the trolley. I handed her the roses, and I got a kiss for them and the plonk. She was working on and off in the other room. She made me comfy in a chair and put cushions around me – yer can’t ask for better treatment!
We had some chinwags, and later, she signed off work on her computer to go with me to the cashpoint and shop. What an angel!
As we were waiting to cross over to the bank, Jillie said: There’s a cashpoint at Ozan’s shop. Let’s go there. So we did! She helped me back down the steps, and we chinwagged on the short trip to the bank machine.
It was terrific shopping with Jillie. She looked after me like she would a grandfather; I thought of her as a daughter. She dealt with staff for me cause she knows my hearing problems, and I got some vegetarian and pork meats, amongst other items. We walked back up Winchester Street, where her house was, hugged, and departed. She left me at the bus stop, bless her cotton socks.
I’d just missed a bus, so I decided to walk carefully up the hill, taking some photographs en route.
Halfway up Winchester Street Hill, the clouds caught my eye again, and I took this snap on the right. It came out rather artistically? Well, maybe not, then. Getting towards where the road changes name. To the right, it becomes Mapperley Rise, and to the left, at the building you see, it continues as Winchester Street. I think years ago it led to the railway station, now gone! In fact, the flats were built on the site!
As I turned onto Chestnut Way, where Winwood Heights are, I noted on the verge the usual Nottingham collection of rubbish, and amidst the fag packets, sweet wrappers, empty bottles, chewing gum, thrown away cans and contraceptives, the flowers that always amaze me more than any other. The determined daisies. So pretty and yet simple. The blue can, maggots coming out of it? Hehehe! What’s this, alcoholic maggots and meat flies?
I crossed over Chestnut Way, passing the bus stop that people get abandoned at, Haha!). I knocked on the Warden’s office to report the bus, but I think they were on break, so I continued through the link corridor on my way. Not a soul in sight; it was oddly eerie until a man and woman came in the opposite direction, we exchanged pleasantries between us, and I went to the swipe door at the end.
The area built for mobile and disabled scooter storage is where the power points are located.
Then, on to the lifts in Woodthorpe Court.
Still nobody about. I pressed for the 12th-floor. (Well, it seemed a good idea as I live on the 12th, Haha! I can still be quick sometimes! Not physically, mind, my days of bungee jumping are over! I can’t see (Cataracts, Glaucoma and Saccades, Haha!) myself playing snooker, squash, or even the barrel organ again? I’ve not got a lot of hope of doing the Hokey Cokey!
I got through the inner lobby doors, wiping the blood off the wall after trapping my knuckle in the door as I fought to stop the wheelie-walker from going over.
Then whilst I was struggling through the apartment door with the wheelie-guide, I knocked the waste bags off the box, and one split open! Why do I bother?
Got it cleaned up and sorted. Put the trolley in the corner, brakes on, turned to go through to the kitchen with a little bag of nosh, and knocked nearly all of the clothes hanging on the hooks off onto the floor as Dizzy Dennis paid a visit!
I got the mock ham, sandwich fillers, and soft cheese portions. Ready to make the nosh later… Oh, and the bottle of Oyster sauce. I’ve never tried that before, and Jillie warned me not to use it a lot.
Then it was concentrating on getting this blog done. I spent four hours on it, and the evening carer arrived; it was Cheeky Charley, so pleased to see her; she’s not been for a week or two now.
Did some more blogging and then on to Facebooking catch-up.
Lovely day for me; seeing Jillie was the highlight. But walking down and up the hill had done me in. I’ll get some fodder and sleep, I hope. Finish this off in the morning… again, I hope. I wash, stripped off, and down to kip! Haha!
Friday AM, 01:30hrs. I’m back. Wee-wee and on the computer.
Uploaded the nosh picture and car park ones from yesterday. The first car park one showed a lack of RVM vans on the hatched no parking area and the small red car in RVM’s spot. RVM had parked at the back in a proper car parking space. Curious! Hehe!
The sourdough sarnies, veggie sausages and meat, cheese twist, yellow tomatoes, banana and mini vegan orange flavoured cake made up the evening meal. A Taste Rating of 7/10.
😴 Ode to Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit 😴
No Mortal is at all hours wise: to those giving generously,
R.A.O.B., Military, Masonry, things like them, you see?
GLE, GLC, folks who generally live life benevolently,
And many others working for a charity,
Does this ode verse lack a certain clarity?
This Ode, maybe a smidge short on facticity,
I always wanted to join brainy clericity,
But I was too thick and brain dead; that was a pity,
No education for me; I survived using astucity,
I shouldn’t be writing about this; I lack profundity!
Did my best in school but lacked the perspicuity…
Never got near to showing any sagacity…
Not guilty of showing financial rapacity…
For being bullied, being a coward, I’d got the capacity…
I’d have had a better life if I’d shown more pugnacity,
To others, I seem to confuse with abstrusity…
I’ve tried to retain unquestionable veracity, honesty,
Yet always a victim of con men and predacity…
I also try to avoid showing spite or mordacity,
I was born with certain appendages of great paucity!
I strove to avoid doing the devil’s work, infelicity…
Unfortunately, with a high level of inefficacity!
Always the victim, gullible, with incredible credulity,
My brain showing sporadic moments of reality…
But riddled throughout with psychoactivity!