– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
COST LIVING
Annoyed, I called British Gas but floundered!.
I had to pay the bill; I got flustered…
Instead of being bold, I sort of simpered,
I wanted to say oligarchs should be neutered!
I muttered, and I stuttered…
He surely thought me deluded?
By asking that the overcharges be refunded…
And I cannot help being retarded!
My words were not being heeded!
“I’m not ribald or rantipoled!”
“I can’t pay the bill, so I’m in the dark & cold!”
“Your bills are beyond my threshold….”
With debts, I am now being circumvolved
“Disabled, blind, deaf, and 77 years old”
Can we not settle this… get it resolved?”
“My bank balance is all but dissolved!”
But he had me in a virtual choke hold…
He said: “We suffer too, being short-handed.
Is that the word, or have I gerunded?
Oh, splendid; now I’m told I’m being trolled!
I apologised, but he wouldn’t be consoled…
We proletariats are getting frampold!
Seems we are both suffering & confounded?
In a month or so. I’ll be entirely defunded!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:40hrs: I stirred back into my usual moroseness.
Spent a minute of two identifying what day it was. Not that it mattered much, anyway. Then I took off the night pouch. Not much in it?..
But the colour was a fairish 4 on the NHS colour chart. Emptied it, put it in the appropriate bag, then into the waste bag after sealing it.
As I got the kettle on, the need for the arose.
The sight and star of my delicate area, Little Inchie, of course,
made me jump a little bit when I first saw the blood. Or rather, the location that had altered to what would be considered… ‘Normal’. Even for me!
A
was nearly issued. Haha! Confused, I certainly was. The multi-aged, dried blood at the bottom of this taken-off pair of Ten pants was far less bloody than usual.
But the fresh blood is not there as a norm?
Top left, these are the concern. These came out of the bum area, I’m sure. I had a grope and feel around using paper towels but found no lesions. Then very gently prodded the site to see if I could find papules, boil or whatever that may have leaked. But, no!
This session was like passing heavy, chocolate-covered ball bearings… eventually!
was in another foul mood about carrying the buckets of water from the kitchen to the wet room… yet once again!
I dressed… well, I put a dressing gown on.
Sorted the waste bags out and placed them near the front door.
Haha! I thought that was the best idea because I don’t have a back door in the flat. If you see what I mean.
Made a brew, & took a photograph of the rising sun from behind the flats… the sun was rising, not the apartments.
I think…
Then off to the computer, determined to do a better, quicker job today, and crossed my fingers that Liberty-Globals oligarch, the £26m salaried with guaranteed bonuses boss, who bought out and ruined Virgin Media, would see if he can go a day without losing the signal. (Fat chance of that, but still!). Love his latest load-of-crap advertisement, above.
You’ve got to praise Mr Fries; he’s consistent in his failings and still getting paid a fortune for his inabilities. Pure jealousy on my behalf, of course. I’d barely started when the inevitable happened.
Carer Samantha arrived. Got me sorted and had a mini-natter.
Tried the internet, but it is still not back on yet.
I strongly suspect I may have
. Cause I woke up as the door chime rang four hours later. Oblivious to what time it was, where I was, or even if I was… Hahaha!
Aha, Liberty-Global Virgin Media working again.
I got the BP graphic done and made one for the ode. Then made the ode…
Then realised I had not yet finished off yesterday’s Inchie Today.
Oh, dearie me! Done it again, gone and lost the signal for the self-praising, oligarchal, figure-manipulating Liberty-Global, owners of Virgin Media, specifically the good looking over-paid boss, Fries, had struck again. So, I toyed with it for a while to make it more comfortable.
A mistake that was!
There was still no service from Liberty-Global-owned Virgin Media Internet services.
So, I decided that an early meal was a good idea!
Aha, a change in the weather.
This photographicalisation came out rather well, I thought.
.
Got the potatoes in the oven on a high setting. And cut up the imitation pressed bacon and garden peas in the saucepan. Got the electric drill and cut up some of the beetroots. Hehehe!
The vegan bacon was brilliant! The potatoes were excellent! The garden peas tasted grand! It might have a 10/10 rating but for the rock-solid, teeth-breaking, tasteless, horrible beetroot!
But, still a 9/10 Flavour-Rating!
I came out of it, and I was sat in the c1966 charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner.
Unsure of anything, my mind was filled with fear that I may have left the stove heat to tap running. I hastened to the kitchenette…
The hot water tap had run cold, but there was no plug in the sink. Phew!
Butt here was the oven tray soaking in there.
I got them and the pots washed.
I sat briefly, feeling somewhat confused and indifferent to everything.
Hard to find the words… Most likely something inspired by Doreen’s Dementia.
Chimed out. It was the sweet Angel of Mercy, Nurse Hristina from the Deep Vein Thrombosis and Anticoagulation INR, Clinic; she’d come to take my blood. ♥ That cheered me up!
Sad to see Hristina leave, I put the kettle on and noticed the buttercups coming through in the bottom field near the tree copse. I think.
The evening Carer arrived. As he was preparing the medications, the mobile phone rang.
It was the Doctors surgery, with the new dosages of Warfarin for me.
I turned to get the mobile that also rang… turned back and got a
for my bother, then pulled my foot from under the chair, landing in a heap, but onto the recliner! Dropping the mobile phone.
Getting back up, I indicated for the Carer to take the call. He handed me the phone.
The receptionist gave me the new dead-easy-to-remember Warfarin doses. 1½ every day until 16th May. Carer Victor wrote the details into the Carer’s folder for me. The stubbing and fall made me feel a little out of it.
I finally got on with Blogging, but I think I’ve got the following photos in order.
Earlier shot of the feet before mangling them. Hehe!.
Feet after the stubble, tumble & mangling. Haha!
SKY SHOTS
GORGEOUS MOTHER NATURE!
TTFNski
Ouchie, Inchie! That hurts to even look at! I hope you’re okay there, Lovey! <3
Super to kear from you my Angel! ♥ Thank you kindly.
Struggling here nowadays. So many ailments at the same time.
Waited years for the cataracts they now tell me two-more to wait, The bladder is defeating all the experts. Can’t see very well at all now, hence time lost cause it takes so long to blog, magnifying glass needed. BP way too high, INR Warfarin the same.Dementia Doreen ever in attendance. Back-Pain-Brenda gets no rest, Walking into things taking tumbles, toe stubbing… But I will try to keep my warped sense of humour alive – whatever comes at me!
Greatky appreciate you kindness, my sweetheart, ♥♥♥