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Once again, the wee-wee in the
I can’t say why I took two of the
I counted the cracks in the ceiling: 22. Is it funny how the total is different every time I count them?
Then the concrete torpedo started to come properly, still very slowly, making me winch at first.
But at least it got out, more than yesterday’s two failed attempts. As the pain subsided, I was so glad it was not messy and needed a marathon cleaning job. I had to flush the thingy a few times, but it went down eventually, and I set about shaving.
There were a few more nicks and cuts this time, but nothing bothersome. I realised I’d forgotten to call the dentist to get a toothpaste prescription, so I used an old-looking tube of paste that had not been thrown out. I don’t think that was a good idea. Eurgh! Leaving the wet room, it dawned on me how well I did with the crosswording and how clear-headed I felt compared to usual.
I felt appreciative of how with it, I felt. I decided to add at the end of yesterday’s blog my decision to cut back on the time it is taking me now. I can’t see, and the shakes are getting worse, which has always been expected. I had no problem finding the words needed and made far fewer mistakes than usual while doing it. In fact, a
I’d got near the end and was about to read through it, and the Carer came in. I think I had him call last weekend. His name was Aliga. Nice chap. He remembered to remind me to take the Vit B12, the lad remembered from last week! I forgot to ask him to put the diabetic socks on, though. Due to our waffling throwing me out of kilt. I realised after he was gone that this essential interruption had killed my bit of unexpected clarity of mind and semi-mental alertness.
It was
Kimberley was like fresh air when she arrived. She noticed that I was not wearing the diabetic socks; bless her, and she got them fitted first thing for me. ♥
As she departed, I sat for a moment to try and identify the differences in my mind compared to earlier on. The worries, fretting, and depression in my state had all returned; they had never left in years, yet they did this morning. I’d like to solve the problem of finding out why I was so… well it must be happy and contented for those first few hours today. All a part of the “Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind?”, I suppose.
I’d already been lifted by the early morning clarity of mind moments. Then lowered with disappointment when the worrying and fretting returned. Now, the embarrassment and shame joined in. Not to mention the washing and cleaning up needed afterwards. A 100% turn-around in my evacuations within an hour or so between the
This cloud shot on the right is possibly my best-of-the-month pareidoliaising photo. I took it through the kitchen window and had to stretch a bit to get it. Hence the external wall was caught in the shot on the left, which gave more of an impression of an angry
I spotted the short, sharp shower spots shimmering steadily down the window pane. I took a Kodak Tim snap of the raindrops falling down the windows. Then the rain stopped!
I see several partially distorted faces, including one that is ‘Scream-like’. I also see a spaceship, a ghost, caves and caverns, and the moon’s surface area. Great! Oh, and I’ve just noticed a Scottie dog’s face, too! Middle photo.
Then, the bowl again, this time with the chunky baked potatoes added to the mixture. The gravy was made, and a splash of Worcester Sauce was also in there.
Well, I soon got that one scoffed away—too quickly, maybe, as then he started his imitation of imminent regurgitation & pains.
TTFNski
Excellent photos. Nice meal prep series, too.
Cheers, Tim.
I looked into the taps on the web mate. There is a sink plug available, that pulls the plug at a certain height & weight of water. Another tenant has blooded the flat below this morning, Carer Marie told me ♥. When Carer Kara, calls I’ll ask her what she thinks of the idea.
Cheers.
I don’t think oligarchs use anything but street cunning, they can smell money.
I do believe the likes of them would actually die if their perona; bank asset got lower than a million!