WEDNESDAY 26th MAY 2022
Well, the lower legs are looking betterer?
The blood taking hole is standing up well. Hehe!
BP is fine again.
♫ Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain… ♫
♫ Telling me just what a fool I’ve been… ♫
My bad luck, or lack of good fortune, continues!
A simple nosh made for a simpleton,
Who knows not what is a sextillion…
Who passes wind, and creates a septon,
Dementia has made his brain wanton…
Yet had a dream, a hope and a premonition…
One day he’ll write a daily newspaper’s feuilleton,
But he’s too old now, this bald, retarded Briton…
He still cooks, nowt fancy like venison or a wonton,
I’ve waffled again, then again, and so did Byron?
I’ll try summat daring – like eating a persimmon!
I’m mentally decaying, needing a psychosurgeon?
Desperate to be seen by a neurosurgeon…
To be honest, I’d take from any chirurgeon!
Even if it helped just as smidgeon…
To slow down my deteriorating condition!
Evening carer has been, all shattered, but mentally okay,
Of course, there was no chance of it staying this way…
Control of my grey-cells thinking seems so far away…
No matter what I try, the confusion’s here to stay…
Of course, I’ve tried for help; I often pray,
But there’s no chance of improvement, I daresay…
Just have to hope tomorrow is a better day…
Lost the plot on this Ode; I don’t need to be told,
My mind refuses to be controlled…
I’ve no virtues of being extolled…
I’m not feeling very bold…
Problems that need to be resolved?
Why has my good-luck gland never evolved?
Why have I never won a gold?
No wonder my hopes have dissolved!
You may think this diary is so short on content and reckon I’d lost the reminder pad, and I spent hours searching for it and couldn’t find it anywhere? Panicked and faffed about, stubbing my toe and using naughty language as I built up my hatred for Vascular Dementia Doreen?
This guesstimate or thought would be Spot-On!
THURSDAY 26th MAY 2022
Cor blimey, and luv-a-duck! What a fantastic kip I had last night! I reckon I’d had about seven uninterrupted hours with Sweet Morpheus! I stirred back into pretending life around 0535hrs.
Of course, with not getting up repeatedly for a wee-wee, I was in a desperate need within seconds of waking up. The trip to the bucket was interrupted by a new requirement – the Porcelain Throne.
The lower back pain kicked off as I turned with metal Mickey in hand to divert to the wet room. In the hallway, dang it! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters came back online, and the leg flailed… straight into the edge of the doorframe, acquiring a rather nasty toe-stubbing to add to my slowly increasing collections of morning pains!
And what a messy session it turned out to be! Despite waiting many minutes for the motion to start and having a failed attempt at getting any clues answered on the crossword that I’ve now been 
doing on the throne for over a week, there were no indications of any progress. So, I started counting the new veins that had come upon the leg. Having worked out that only two new ones had come up and felt for sure at least five had gone down, I was considering going into a Smug-Mode…
Then, the… well, an explosion is the only word to describe it – the evacuated product burst out in some haste, and I could feel the splashes rebounding back up to my bottom and gentleman’s tackle storage area. What a mess the Throne and I ended up in! So, I set to cleaning and freshening things and me up in the wet room. I was caught out, right and proper, by Trotsky Terence’s reappearance after a few days. Humph!
All spick and span again, and feeling a smidgeon proud of how I handled the unfortunate evacuation, I departed the wet room on my way to treat myself to a mug of tea. And clouted my shoulder on the doorframe, setting Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off jigging all over the place in her effort to dislodge the shoulder bone, I think!
Needless to say, I was a little pee’d off now. I took a painkiller with the tea and rubbed some Phorpain Gel well into Shirley’s shoulder where I could reach. I felt sorry for myself, and I reflected on who was really to blame. Doreen’s Dementia, Nichodemuses Neurotransmitter, Neuropathy Pete, Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys, and me! So many options came to mind that I decided all of these were at fault or the causes of my morning’s dilemmas.
I took a snap of the view from the kitchen window. Although it may have been from yesterday now, I think of it. Dementia Doreen is not easy to live with.
I got on the computer to finalise 
and post the local News Snippets blog. I pressed on regardless, and I lost a lot of time changing the central Ode. Why? I forget why I thought it was a good idea. The original and one I ended posting were both crap, anyway! But then, I’m good at crap. Consistently, I reliably churn it out.
I went to make another brew, determined to get this one drunk! The red sky reminded me of the old saying, “Red Sky at Night, Shepherds delight!” By the time I’d taken the pictures, the red sky had gone.
When I checked the photos on the camera, I was not impressed at all. But of course, with Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades Sandra lingering, what would I know. Hehehe!
Ah, when I got these on later, they looked so different in the Preview window than on this editor that I’m using.
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and in came two carers. They were not listening types; both were supervisory. It is my fault for talking to them when they sorted out the paperwork. I must stop doing that!
I went into the balcony, opened the end window, and took this shot of the Chestnut Way end car park… Trapping my finger in the spring lock as I close the window afterwards. Tsk!
I’d anticipated Richard coming today. My grasp on actuality had gone away. One of them had returned to the fold, and I was ready to listen to my tale of the potato husks that I’d left in the oven for eight hours overnight. I’d kept them to show to Richard, but they got a laugh out these gals when I showed them to them. Haha!
I got on with the updating and posted it to WordPress. Had a while on Facebook Catchup. Then made a start on the first Ode for this one.
Blimus! It was gone midday in no time!
I must get the WP comments to read and answer. Then I read the WordPress Reader new blogs and commented on them.
The Evening Carer will be due soon, Valerie, I hope. I’m going to get my wash and change into the night attire now, TTFNski. The ankles were a bit blotchy again? The INR being high?
A can of the veg chilli-con-carne, baked some chunked potatoes, last of the Milk Roll bread, and a pot of weak watery Morrison’s Honey flavoured yoghourt. I enjoyed it. Taste Rating: 7/10.
Arrived after I’d washed the pots up. Forget the Carer’s name again, nice gal.
I got down to kip, but the notable changes in the evening sky forced me to keep getting up to take photographs of the views. I’ll put them on Friday’s blog; hopefully, the SD reader will be working better then.
Sleep was a long time in coming. But that was my fault for me keeping getting up several times to photograph the changing sky.
Ode To Hope
Every time I think things may improve, I suffer a forfeiture,
For being foolish enough to be a self-deluder?
Of course, existence will just get crappier,
Anyway, if things went right, would I be happier?
Good fortune for me; it would be so unfamiliar…
No doubt it would make me feel guilty and peculiar?
I’d probably go into shock and have a stroke or seizure…
Not to worry, I’ll take my tablets and a gulp of tincture!
Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit
Seven hours of sleep? Wow! That would be nice to have every night. Excellent evening photos. Great Wednesday ode. Decent looking Thursday meal.
Not sure if the other answer got through, Tim. Seven blissfull hours.
Thanks, Tim.
The only girl I care about has gone away (ahh)
Looking for a brand new start (pitter patter, rap-tap-tap)
But little does she know that when she left that day (ahh)
Along with her she took my heart (pitter patter, rap-tap-tap)
…
The Cascades (1963)
A sweeping set of photomographicals, Sir. A landscape encaptured in five snapatures. The falling rain hit your window pane with some vigor and pizazz. We have been hit with segments of heavy raining, separated from each other and producing striking rainbows. Worth the bother when rain gets celebrated with a couple rainbows. The rainbows were followed by a medium pot of money decided by a jury in Julie’s favor late in the afternoon, as the jury ruled in her favor — a five day trial. That red sky was a sign for those shepherds *and* for Julie. Alan drove them to the courthouse each of those five days (they do not have a car) and stayed with them the entire time. Five cheers for Alan!!!!!
Trapping your finger in that vicious spring…Aaarghety Aaargh…so we thanketh ye for providing a snap of Chestnut end, where denizens park oddly 5 days out of 7.
Hoping that Richard regains health, please express to him my bestest regards to that grand fellow.
May the lottery surprise you with a large pile of moneys, kindest Sir!
By gum, I liked that song, Billum. Not half! Know some words, but had no memory of who sang it, that’s cleared that up then, I fang-you!
I’m so pleased for Julie and HRH 💚. Grrreat! The first time I’ve had a prayer answered!
Five more cheers for Alan, from me, please!!!
Richard should be calling on Mon to Thurday according to the list poster, but it changed more often than not. I sall pass on you wishes, Sir. I did pass them on to him a fortnight ago, too. Cheers.
Goodeth news Snippetski: I got a vegi-burger from Iceland and they were super! Hope they keep stocking them. I gave Richard a couple last week, but the lad refused, he liked his beef he said. Later in the week I took one out of the wrapper and put it in a bag, and he took it, said it was nice. Shhh!
Julie and HRH, with Alan’s back up – The Bully-Boy Beaters – Yee-Haa!
1963 was a good year for popular songs like this one, glad to be of service in letting yer know a bit about them.
It was a 60% to 40% majority in favor of Julie. HRH and Julie’s son Taylor told their witness directly from their hearts, and I certain that this made all the difference. Much better than the argument from the largest grocery chain in the United States if not the world, their argument was to rehash and rewarm leftover ways of saying “Falls just happen.” and “there’s nothing we can do about it.”
I shall pass on your cheers to Alan. He is a great person, a genuine Mensch.
Richard needs to be complimented more than once, there should be a holiday celebrated in his honor. People tend to dismiss vegi-burgers until they taste them.
Mums the word, Sir. I shall Shhh. Hahaha!
An uplifting result, a win for the ordinary, those in the street folk against the ‘Givememorers’!
I shall enter a Smug-Mode today, in celebration, Sir!
The Cascades appeared in yesterday’s crossword puzzle. A salute to 1963, the year my youngest sister, Claire, was born.
May today be celebrated as International Smug-Mode Adoption Day!
I like that, Billum.
A lot to stuff into a Sunday, the most fell day of the week. But I’m not the calendar maker, are I?
Mayhaps a lab could be desigated to find an alternative to the grgorian… or Gregorean, hor on here and off there, alternative? Be very welcome.
We should have a lab devoted to calendar choices. Something as interesting as the switch from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian calendar in 1752, when 10 days were lost in the UK, US, and Canada.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/38/dd/b4/38ddb439785baf69966fd8fd26a9f323.png
Naturally, once figures get thrown into the melting pot, Confusion Conrad comes to the fore, and takes over control for a day or so.
Trying to understand why we had to change things or are incapable of sorting out a simpler form, is well beyond uneducated me and even Confusion Conrad! Hehehe!
Confusion Conrad: Calendar-Confusioning Cad!
I see. Hahaha! I like it!
Did my reply done via Email link get through Sir?
I don’t think your reply made it to my email address:
ziegler.bill@gmail.com
Dang it!