COST OF LIVING
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I was deep in the Land-of-Nod; burst forth from the door chime, I wriggled with embarrassment in the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, bleak, crumb-containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner0 Realising I had not unlocked the door, I rose up onto my feet, a little too quickly and, fell back down into the recliner, and poor old paid the price, as they started to trickle out warm blood into the Protection Pants. I was well pleased I had them on!
Even poorer, Car Richard has to wait so long for me to get to the door (Sorting the piles and new pants on); I thought he might ask me if he could have a shave. Hahaha! He’d waited that long to get in!

Things were hectic, and so much going wrong; I didn’t even start this blog until Wednesday. The many problems start here, but will be in the short form to save time, else I’ve never gotten around to doing today’s blogs started either!

Richard seemed in and out quickly today, but of course, I was and got more confused as the day went on. Humph!
After Richard had gone (A lot of writhing on the memory pad about Richards’s visit, but was unreadable).
Got the Health Checks done.
, and got dressed, mostly in a haze. I found a few later on.
Mug of tea and started the Ode for Tuesday. (Which, I’ve only just finished 05:00hrs Wednesday Morning!!!

The doctor phoned: Told her of the Paramedics and the Gyna. Lansoprozole Capsule to be increased straight away, 15 to 30ml. She told me to call the Surgery reception and book a Face to Face meeting regarding the results of the Severe Frailty Test. It sounded like an order from Hitler and had a tinge of a threat in it? Hahaha! The problem now; is to get hold of ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana, to ask for help phoning. Also, is the left arranged for the Covid booster jab?

So, I rang Deana to ask about the lift first, and hose said she’ll ring Easy-Lift… is that their name?
To ring me back, must remember to ask her to call the wack to make a face-to-face meeting.

I took the photos on the left here while making a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea.
A lot of vehicles parked up this morning.

I have a bit of a possible Memory Blank here. What bit of writing there is on the notepad is ridiculously deciphered, scrawled and unintelligible.

I vaguely recall going to the Porcelain Throne for a second time, but have no idea; how things went.

The next thing readable on the memory prompt pad was that the intercom flashed
It was the Asda food order that had arrived.
Five substitutions; one was sent back, Chicken sauce for BBQ?
Most of Richard’s treats had arrived.
Beef in black bean sauce.
An eight-pack of tangy Cumberland sausages. Glad I got the belly pork for Richard; I know he said how much he liked them, hope I got the right flavour.
The Lemon Soya desserts look interesting; they have a long date on them, so I’ll eat the vegan lemon yoghourts first.
The new 7-Mediterranean Vegetable sauce with basil came, but I have doubts about my decision to try this one. Just a feeling that I’ll not like it?
Had to make do with BBQ sauces of brands substituted that I’ve never tried as well.
A feeling I’ve eased my money here!

The bag of small potatoes didn’t look too fresh.
I’ll try them tomorrow, all being well. But I’ve my doubts over how fresh they are and will last? I’ll ask Richards, if he comes, to check the dates for me.

Got the things stored away in the fridge and cupboards. Drank the cold tea.

And meandered into the balcony to take a snap of the end car park again.

Wowser! The spiders from somewhere had been busy.
I took a close-up view of the car park. Three vehicles, one parked perfectly and two not so perfectly. Hehe!

Then, I foolishly took out the SD card from the Lumix camera and put it in the reader to download later.

I took the mug to be washed. I’d left the window open, and I must have had 40 or 50 meat flies of varying sizes in the kitchen Heck of a time-consuming effort to get rid of them!

ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, just married Warden Deana phoned to say she had arranged the lift for the Covid booster on the 20th, and the Diabetes Riverside for the 28th, Bless her cotton socks. I asked if she could also call the Quack for a Face to Face meeting for the results of the Frailty Assessment on the 24th. She kindly said she would come up later.

Then, my bugbear, as it is to thousands of other idiots who unknowingly joined Virgin Media: Before Liberty-Global, led by the smoke & mirrors, number-crunching, blurring of facts & figures, hocus-pocus, nod & a wink, mumbo-jumbo, misleading $23.6m a year, plus bonuses and an expense account salaried Mike Fries bought-out Virgin Media. And has done such a clinically-perfect job of destroying the previously good reputation of the company by proving does not have the know-how or qualities to get a signal to Nottingham for a whole day! In fact, LIBERTY-Global Virgin Media goes down diurnally! Today three times, for a total of approximately four & a half hours! Sad, pathetic! But of course, I believe there is a larger reason for this miserable performance. Chicanery, double-speaking and thaumaturgy-practising financial manipulators such as Fries is bound to have another plan that will make even more money for Liberty-Global. That is, if Virgin Media last long enough. Or maybe that’s part of his underhand scheme and design for them to go bankrupt?

ILC (Independent Living Coordinator)  Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and  Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana, and ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist and Warden Julie arrived. Without their help, I’d be in the right pickle & mess! ♥

Sinead arrived; I was half asleep at the time after having to close down the computer after Mr Fries’s inability to get a signal through to Nottingham again shone miserably through… I’d nodded off! She is a lovely gal who always cheers me up when she comes. We had a natter and laugh about nothing and everything. I insisted on nibble giving, in thanks. Sinead took the waste bags with her when she left. I do appreciate a few minutes to chinwag and laugh with the carers, you know. But I can do I not push it. Went to get a meal started, and I took this rather decent snap of the evening view.

Aha! I got the meal cooked, but not without an of sorts, and a realisation that the Asda brown cobs were unbelievably crap!
The thing that pee’d me off most, though, was when I put the NoMeat meat slices in the oven, I thought, “Ah, that’s an idea; I’ll spray some olive oil onto them as I put them in the oven.”
Not a good idea; I discovered it too late! When it came to taking out the NoMeat slices, they had seemingly welded and concreted into the oven tray! There followed a series of & , what literally amazed even me; and I’m the famously unlucky one, but I was amazed at how many came within minutes of each other!

① I burnt several finger ends chiselling out the NoMeat from the reluctant-to-let-them-go tray.
② Put the tray in the sink to soak and realised that the black coating on the tray had lost lumps of whatever it was painted on them. I thought I was rather cunning here and put the slices; well, they were bits by then in the microwave to keep warm. It took me ages to get the bits of black stuff off of them. Still, a !
③ Wrapped up the burnt-up, misshaped tray in a few bags and put them in a big waste bag to go down the chute in the morning. As I turned back towards the sink… It only lasted a few seconds, but was enough to have me over!
④ I’d learnt from past tumbles in the kitchen that by far the easiest… no, least painful way to get back up is using the front of the sink with both hands and hauling myself back onto my feet that way. So I did!
⑤ However, as I struggled to heave the body mass up, the left hand slipped and went into the sink with the dirty water, bleach and soda in it I’d used to try and clean the tray with. If you know anyone who would like a partly-disintegrated pyjama top or bleach-shredded bottoms, let me know, please. !
⑥ I ditched the pyjamas, wrapped them up in two bags, and then into a larger one to go to the chute in the morning. Humph! Reset the timer on the microwave that was keeping the slices warm; they looked passable on this check.
⑦ As I was changing into new PPs, I smelt something not right… I’d left the beans on the heat in a saucepan!
⑧ Into the kitchen and added some citric acid to the beans, with some passata, crenellated, and stirred the beans to break them up. Burning the same two fingers that I burnt in the oven tray! Cleaned and applied some Germolene.
⑨ I managed to salvage some of the beans and sauce. But had to add another small can and mixed them in. Got the meal served up, and it didn’t look too bad. I thought I’d done a decent job of rescuing things…

⑩ Until it came to eating it. Instantly, at the fork spoonful of the beans – I’ve never tasted anything so foul in a long time!; Then, kicked off, quickly followed by .

I think some bleach might have found its way into the brown cobs as well!

I put the meal into a small bag, then a stronger blue one, and then in a black bag to go down to the chute in the morning. The morning Carer is going to get a shock, Hehehe!

As I checked the kitchen to make sure the taps and oven were not left on, the sink and floor had been cleaned up, and the window was shut too!

I got down into the c1968 recliner, in need of rest, if not sleep!
But, no! was showing no signs of allowing me to nod off!
Turned on the . I suppose because of the calamity with the meal, I had no option but to respond each time by worrying about things like, ‘Did I check the wet room sink?’
‘Is the oven turned off?’. ‘Did I take the Peptac?’ Where did I put the camera?’ ‘Did I close the balcony windows?’ ‘What day & time is the Booster for?’ What’s that noise I can hear?’ ‘Did I leave the heater on in the wet room?… on and on they flowed, and I meekly checked for whatever the concern was every time one came to me.
Not only did I tire myself out with my tramping into every room in the flat and back to the £300, second-hand, musty, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, cringingly beige, crumb-covered, not-working, rickety recliner. Constantly for what seemed ages. But in the process, I got a , and walked into the doorframe, setting off!
It reminded me that I’d mentioned to the Doctor on the phone about all this malarkey. I’m glad I did but did she listen? She said not a word about it when I mentioned it to her.
Then the arrived. At least for a while, I stopped getting up to check on things. How the mind seeks out so easily the slightest things that you have any concerns over is distressing. Well, the fact that one can’t stop them is more annoying!
Then, another arrived in the brain… ‘Did I lock the door?’. So off again to check… I hadn’t, as it happens – so I did! 

On the way back to the recliner, I espied a late night sky I thought worthy of photographicalisationing. So, I did.

The Lumix was in auto-mode as I took the picture. It made the photo much more bright and light than it looked to my eyes.
Back into the recliner, brain-drained and so tired-out. However, the had at last departed… Now my mission was to get to sleep before the ing started again!

Which I did, Hurrah!