Manic Morning Ode

I think of odd things, many sorts, some ulteriorly…
Some thoughts are of electrical technicality…
The TV stopped working, the DVD too…
The computer does its own thing, getting me into a stew,
The help pamphlet is all written metrically,
But I was educated in inches and things imperially!

I write thoughts in an ode, mostly inferiorly…
Cause my sleeping is now all somnambulistically,
I went to the Porcelain Throne, and it came out like gooey glue!
Concentration is hard, lack of kip I rue…
But making these crap odes, I still pursue,
I don’t think I love owt else I do…

But dreams and hopes, I had a few…
Into the ether, they all got threw,
Oh, dearie me, Throne time again, stinkaroo!
What does the future hold? Do I want a preview?
Whatever, if any, will not hold any bijou…
I know! I’ll give myself a sanity interview?

Thursday 2nd June 2022

From my scribbled notes: 30% of which I couldn’t decipher or guesstimated.

04:40hrs: I gave up trying to stay asleep; the jumping awakes were endless again! Rose for a wee-wee. (Unreadable) Something to do with the Canon camera?

Put the kettle on, made a brew of JS Extra-Strong Brown Label tea, and tried to sort out the Canon camera’s problem. Gave up and went to make another brew. This time, using the rather delightful full-bodied Thompsons Signature tea.

Very tasty! Took a photo from the kitchen window, through the glass.

Took another photo of the view using the flash. I can’t remember why; maybe I could have been testing to see if the flash worked? I’ve still not remembered what the original fault was? I used the Fuji after this. So whatever it was (I’ll remember soon) had not been righted or mended yet. (I’m assuming here?)

The Boot’s Chinese made Blood Pressure machine’s sphygmomanometerisationing gave me a bit of a shock this morning! I checked on the NHS DVT site. SYS 174, DIA 67 and Pulse of 88.

Ah, well. I got the body temperature done. It’s a little low again, but it has been for weeks now; I don’t feel any worse for it… I’ve got the eyes, Doreen Dementia etc., to worry me more. It’ll be back down tomorrow, I expect.

A lot of squashed up scribbling on the notepad here. Tea, view (but I can’t find any photos of it?). Bogging, hard work, errors, mistakes… Finished blog, sent off, emailed link, Pinterested and Facebooking.

Window cleaning Joe arrived. Nice chap. He lets me waffle on without looking too bored at me. A good quality that is on a man. There is some more undecipherable squiggling here… no, I can’t make it out.

Ah, this I can… the swine!

It’s an exciting bit of writing here… Best I can make out; what it says is: Blu snaps Herb? WP Reader…

Ah, that’ll be Herbert, the contemptuous, hoity-toity, holier-than-thou, can’t-do-wrong chap living above me making noise again.

The tootsies and toes looked a smidge bedraggled when I came out of the wet room. It had not gone all that well in the ablutionary session either.

When I took a wee-wee, the product escaped in trickles, yet the after dribble lasted three times as long as the main event did! Then came a cropper on the trolley wheel… I’ve not done yet… Little Inchies had to be cleaned again and medicationalised… which means. Then as I was leaving through the door, there were no injuries this time. In fact, I went into a scenario! The lesion and toe were enough for me to cope with anyway.

Took a snap of RVD’s (Red Van Man’s) parking in the end car park. Someone had beaten him to his favourite, ‘I’m not bothered’, illegal no parking chevron spot.

Hehehe! I felt a little sorry for him, really.

I got the nosh sorted out and served up. I enjoyed it but fell asleep eating it, woke up, and finished off the cold meal without any bother or interest. I just accepted that Dementia Doreen will be with me forever now. Not a pleasant thought.

Carer Lisa arrived as I was about to take the tray through to get the things washed up. Nibbles and plonk offered in thanks. Nice gal.

I came over, all accepting again. There is nowt that can be done about Peripheral Neuropathy; I’ve accepted that from the off. But Doreen’s Dementia is the one ailment that’s getting to me. I leave taps running, cooking on and in, the stove… and I honestly can’t tell you what day or year it is… Yes, I can. (Just looked at the computer! A depression with a difference suddenly tonight. A smidge of morbidity with it… no, no, that’s not the right word… erm… a type of self-declaration, come of affirmation of any ability or interest from anyone, in trying to help me out. My mind is crumbling… well, the body is not doing much better. Hehe! Yet I accept the situation because, as I see it, there really is nothing to be done to help with the Dementia or dying peripheral neurotransmitter battles. I hope to live and love it long enough to get the teeth, eyes, and hearing treated.

I sat there for a couple of hours in utter silence – Yes! The Thought-Storms had abandoned me for the first time in months. Actually, this bothered me a bit! I was saved by the World-Wide-Hum, and both started being noisy in the extreme… but I think I welcomed it. I managed as blank a mind as must be possible. Still, the overriding view of acceptance, nothing to be done, lingered... I noted the time, 21:00hrs, as I tried to get some shut-eye. At 21:03hrs, the Thought Storms with apparently recharged batteries kicked off!

Sweet Morpheus didn’t stand a chance. I lay there fighting, talking to, and cursing the self-nit-picking, derogatory Thought Storms. Never had them as bad, and in the end, I got up around three o’clock for a most unwilling wee-wee, and again I suffered from the. Now I was feeling somewhat fed up in the extreme! So, I went through to put the kettle on… Continued below!

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Friday 3rd June 2022

As if I wasn’t in a self-hating depressive, elegiacal, had-enough mood already: I got in the kitchen and realised I’d left the hot water tap running! Naturally, the water was stone cold. But it got worse!

I spotted that I’d also left the fridge door open! Self-denigration and a sense of fear or apprehension came over me. Which I was almost wallowing in? When the bowels demanded that I visit the wet room.

This case is entirely different to yesterday’s evacuation. Trotsky Terence was in charge. Gooey, messy… and it took me ages to get things cleaned up. I must have dropped or knocked over the walking stick four times, yet my self-anger calmed down! I developed a new to me outlook! A semi, but weak determination not to let things get to me. Because things will not get any better, I can try to alter my responses? It’s not doing me any good getting all het-up! I tried to find last night’s ‘Acceptance Mode’, and sure enough, things calmed down.

I remembered the high BP of Thursday and went to finally make a brew of Thompsons’ Punjana, relaxed as much as I could, and got the sphygmomanometer going. And sure enough, the BP was lower. SYS 147 (from 174), DIA 70 (67), and Pulse at 81 (88). According to the NHS, today’s reading is acceptable; 60-85 bpm is suggested. According to my Chinese Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co, the body temperature. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was 33.6°c, up a bit.

The feet still looked and felt a little sore.
But have often hurt me much more,
I must stop moaning anymore.
I can’t put it any blunter,
Accept things, as said thereinbefore
It’s the only way to perdure!

I spent many hours on the computer, updating blogs, correcting cock-ups, and eventually getting the blog done and posted. Then, Pinteresting, WP reading, and WordPress Comment making.

T’was an unexpected pleasure to see that Carer Richard called this morning. He didn’t have time for a good chinwag as he had another call to do, bless him. He listened to my tales a while, I offered nibble and drinkies of his choice, and off he went, we exchanged all-the-bests.

Back to the computer, but Mr Fries, the $23million a year salaried leader of shit Liberty-Global, let me down yet again. This week, about 12 times, the overpaid, number-juggler & cruncher has proved his inability to get a Virgin Media internet signal to stay on in Nottingham. Please don’t think this has created jealousy and hatred for the scum-bucket. Oh, no!

When Mr Fries managed to get a signal back, I spent many hours doing the top Ode for this blog and updating it. I was doing well… until…

The smoke & mirrors man, the fiddler of figures, and incapable of running an internet service without losing the signal, Mr Fries, the Mafia looking character, fails again! Humph!

While waiting on Mr Fries to get his minions to resupply Winwood Heights with his unreliable, pathetic, crap, overcharging, customer-hating enslaved people to get the signal back. I took a few photographs. Mayhaps I should send this to Mr Fries, so he knows where he is not sending, but overcharging for it, internet supply?

So, I took more photographs while waiting for Fries, the £23m salaried boss, to get the Liberty-Global signal again.

Only one vehicle was parked, snuggly on the no-parking yellow chevrons at the end of the car park on Chestnut Way. Only one vehicle in, RVD (Red-Van-Man).

The front car park opposite my beloved Woodthorpe Court.

The car park faces Winwood and Winchester Courts.

Hello, he’s off again. Clunk, clatter! Back to the photographicalisationing…

Then, a photo of the beautiful clouds in the sky.

Not many folks out there; I suppose they are watching the ER celebrations for the Queens?

Well, the Royal Family members all look happy, don’t they? Charles has waiting so long to get the Throne I don’t think he’s up to it anymore. Hehehe!

I got some spuds boiling to make cheesy mash with.

Well done, Mr Fries! The internet’s back on again. Touch of well-deserved Sarcasm there…

Got the meal prepared and served up. Cheesy topped halved boiled potatoes, baked off to crisp the red Leicester cheese. Veggie sausages, baked beans with Henderson’s relish added, wholemeal cobs, tomatoes, and a banana.

Halfway through it and watching a Heartbeat episode on the box, I was in my element. The evening carer arrived. Chloe, nice gal. Got the meds sorted and had a little natter. She took the waste bag with her to the shoot for me. I locked the door and got back to finishing the not so hot meal. Dementia Doreen and number-cruncher Liberty Global’s Mr Fries are to blame for confusing me as to what time it was. Hehehe!

With its pink-tinged coloured streaky clouds, the sky looked absolutely amazing to me tonight. No doubt that Mother Nature is a beautiful beast! I can’t recall being so interested in the skies all my life.

We need to start straight away protecting this planet. We’ve polluted it uncaringly, not a thought for the future generations… if there is to be any. And all for gain and personal profit. So shadow-benders and number-crunchers like Mr Fries can earn $23 million a year, and Putin can do a Hitler in attacking other countries! Nowadays, he is doing it risk-free. No Americans to save the day for Ukraine, like they did for the UK, France, Poland etc., sad.

Got down in the £300 second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner on a mission to get some sleep. Huh! Well, I did, but it was hours later!

END OF THE WORLD THOUGHTS in Ode…

All tellurians have something in common – caducity!
Humans have greed, jealousy, egocentricity & abstrucity,
The majority get cheered from money, not true felicity…
They destroy the planet with great feracity…
Believe me, mankind has this ability, fruitfully…
To gain their lucre, they’ll use violence and feracity…
Every one of our nation’s leaders leads with lubricity!
I suppose this Ode reads with a certain mordacity?
So, let’s save the earth with haste and pertinacity!