Sunday 28th August 2022: Inchcock A Year Older

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0450hrs: Up for a wee-wee, and dare not get back to sleep, as the food delivery is due twixt 06:00>10:00hrs. If it does come early, I need to hear the intercom to let them in. So, I stayed up. Made a start by doing the .
How , the flipping Blood Pressure has shot up again.
SYS 160, DIA 75, and the Pulse, I think, can’t see it very well, at 74.
The body temperature at 3.32°f is not far off at all.

It’s such a shame cause my BP has been returning fair figures for the last few days. Back up somewhat today, though. Ah, maybe a birthday pressie? Hahaha! As I recall, the last three birthdays both proved to be injury prone. I had a fall with the three-wheeler after getting out from the stroke. Hospital overnight.
Then a series of little accidents and

Whoopsiedangleplops day. Last year I got three cards, a record there! sister Jane of course, always remembers; bless her. I anticipate a phone call later on from the gal.

And today, just the one card this year from ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Obergruppenfürheress and Lap-Top Dancer, Warden Deana. A frequent Saviour of mine, sorting out travel arrangements and appointments for me. A treasure!

Made a start on this bog’s template, and went for a wee-wee, wash and brush up, and needed the . Trotsky Terence was back in charge again. Phooey, watery and messy! Still, no bleeding or pain at all.

I put the computer in sleep mode, and I got down on the recliner… and fell asleep. Woken an hour later; Carolyn stood over me; I was confused for a while, still half-asleep. She got the medications sorted, and we had a little natter, which is always welcome. Carolyn took the waste bag to the chute for me on her way out. A cold Mojito from the fridge as a thank you.

Again! Woke in need of a wee-wee, and as I rose up on my wobbly feet, the landline burst forth. It was Sainsbury’s delivery driver, saying he was outside. I started to tell him how to use the call system, and he said he was outside the flat door! I hadn’t heard the door chime. I pressed it to try it out and could not hear it, but the chap could. Ah… I’d not put the olive oil in the tab-holes this morning!  Twit!
The man was patient with me, and he loaded the boxes with care. I thanked him, and off he went, me forgetting to offer him a tipple or nibble. I felt so bad about that.
I got the cartons and bag with the two frozen items into the kitchenette and began unloading and photographing the contents as I took them out. Giving myself a on-the-unit corner as I did so. This might be one of those not-good days!

I started by getting the frozen food into the refrigerator. A large bag of chips (fries) and a small bag of some thin fries.
But first, I had to do some jiggling with the foods already in there, as there was not enough room. So some had to go in the bin!
More fresh chips, potatoes, sliced seasoned potatoes and roasting potatoes. Veggie shepherd’s pie, fries, and some mega-expensive shelled garden peas. I can’t see if they are from Nicaragua or Kenya, which are usually the sweeter between the two. They had sent some fresh Broccoli, which I would never have ordered because I’m not permitted to eat any Brassica vegetable cause of the Warfarin.
After I’d got everything put away and stored, I checked the various

So, where did the fresh bag of broccoli come from? I thought I’d ordered some bananas, too… did I (or Doreen Dementia and Cataract Cathy) get it wrong again? I imagine it might have been my bad. So, banana-less, bread-less, and Bleach-less, I’ll have to do a Morrison order for later in the week. Not that I have any more faith in them, the rob-dogs.

I took the waste bag I’d made up doing the food put away. A simple enough job, you would have thought… so did I – but I should have known better:
Oh, dear, the first cock-up of the job. I dropped the stick as I opened the cast-iron chute lid, and I bent down to retrieve it. I got down alright… Hehehe! getting back up was a struggle. During which I lost a bit of balance, swayed and hit my head on the chute cover! But I was undaunted; I carried on getting the bag into the chute… I trapped a finger in the metal lid! Being the brave hero that I am, I just wrapped a tissue around it and carried on… No moaning, flinching, swearing, feeling sorry for myself. No cursing or grinding of teeth or complaining whatsoever!

There followed a toe-stubbing, a walk into a doorframe going into, and then out of the wet room, and I dropped the mil bottle… twice! Once with the cap on, then, after I’d retrieved it, with the cap off!

I went back to the flat and made a belated start on finishing the Saturday tale of woe. Then, to the accompaniment of   and his concert music of clattering and tap-tapping, made a start on this blog. It didn’t last long. though.

I was getting the nosh prepped and just putting the fries and beefburgers in the oven, and the landline rang. It was Sister Jane ringing to wish me a Happy Birthday. Having just burnt my finger on the oven tray when the phone rang and stubbed my toe en route to the phone, I thought I did really well in trying to sound chirpy. Hahaha! But the ears were not having it! I realised that I’d not put the olive oil in for the midday slot as usual! Then found I could not hear or understand most of what Jane was saying to me. I felt most guilty about this; usually, I never forget the three times a say olive-oiling of the earholes. The conversation was, I think, a little annoying to Sister Jane, but it was to me! I kept apologising because the hearing was nowhere near 100% as usual; that is not good anyway. I was concerned throughout the so-called conversation that I may have let something in the kitchen still cooking or left a tap on, most uncomfortable and guilty installing. Here’s Sister Jane just wanted to wish me a good day, and I could not react correctly as I was never sure what she was saying. I hope she will forgive me. But I ignorantly cut her short to go and check on the kitchen situation. She was okay with that… I hope. Sorry, Jane. ♥ Any good if I blame Dementia Doreen?

I got back to the cooking and found that I had left the hot water tap running. the oven door open, and had knocked the tray on the way out to the phone, ad lost many of the precious raw garden peas onto the top and floor! Turned the now cold tap off. Cleaned up, ointmentated the burnt finger, and got on with making the meal… feeling a heel!

Nosh prepped and served up on the tray. Looking pretty good to me, but this happened yesterday, and it was a disaster taste-wise. Into the front room, into the recline feet up, and had a taste of each item on the plate.
Here’s my report: The first item tasted was ① Thin fries, okay, ② Raw garden peas, great! ③ Caramelised red onion, spot-on! ④ Sliced pickled gherkins, good! ⑤ yellow and red tomatoes, very passable! ⑥ Veggie burger, Grrreat! ⑦ Orange jell sestet, fair! Overall a worthy Taste-Rating of 8.2/10, The first nosh I’ve enjoyed for a few days now. Got the olive oil belatedly in the earhole.

My ultra-modern Nokia 9 Pureview Mobile, with its Android (Pie) updateability, Corning Gorilla Glass 5, Octa-Core Gold CPU, 4K@30fps, 1080p@30fps, HDR video, USB Type-C 3.1, %x12 MP. 28mm Camera, Bluetooth, A-GPS, Fingerprint (under display, optical), accelerometer, gyro, proximity, compass, barometer, Li-Po 3320 mAh, non-removable, fast charging 18W, Quick Charge 3.0, USB Power Delivery. and Fast wireless charging 10W, Qi Battery, rang. It was Jenny, bless her, offering some hothouse tomatoes if I wanted any. Oh, yes, I greedily said, please! She’ll drop them up for me later. ♥

A stand-up wash, no shave, I forgot. Hehe! Down in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety, and swiftly fell fast asleep a deep, much-needed sleep!

Jenny came as I was putting a bag of treats ready. She was looking well today,
In fine form, I’m glad to say,
Seeing Jenny can take the blues away!
Jenny’s different to the clamjamfry…
Makes me smile; that’s a guarantee! Thanks, Jenny! ♥

The carer, well carers, there were two, woke me up from my desperately needed rest… Hehehe! I was totally confused by this and fought off falling asleep as they and I spoke. I think one of them was concerned about me not talking much. (I am usually very garrulous when anyone calls on me) But not tonight; unbelievably tired. I assume I went with them to lock the door, as I found it was locked in the morning.

Once more, I dived into the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner! I was asleep in seconds… a beautiful sleep!

Where I stayed, uninterrupted for any wee-weeing,,, until 04:00hrs… Bliss! The legs felt as if they were not mine. Then the deferred wee-weeing began… Boy, did they!