Inchy Today: Wednesday 23rd April 2025

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GOOD RESULTS
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Failures, mistakes? I’ve become an epigone,
It made me downcast, glum, & woebegone,
Life today, I just can’t underfong,
Hopefully, I’ll not suffer for too long,
I’ll soon see St. Peter, and be logging on…
Depression is a vile botheration…
My mind in constant circumbilivagination,
Brain & body with little corroboration,
Worries, fears, defeats, no cachinnation,
My mental visitors seem all cacodaemon,
The Grim Reaper’s awaited clarion…
I’ve given so much contemplation,
No solutions, just failed bodge, after bodge!
Will I be an Angel, or Beelzebubian?
Will I find safety, a hide, or a bastion?
Will Hell hold or hide bacchanalian?
Hell, is it the source of depressionism?
The Devils home, desolation, damnation?
Will retain my delusion & disequilibrium?
Or judge my sacrilege, profanation?
Or take heed of my moral declension?
Are my thoughts all a misconception?
Are Heaven & Hell; both a delusion?
Yesterday’s confusion I’d like to mention,
The failures, fears, all in deliration!
Will either be divine, celestial, or elysian?
Or are both, just an illusion?
Is there no other option?
Humankind, developed by an alien?
Monitored, our every move digested…
To what we are affiliated, afflicted,
Angered, get-bladdered, how have we altered,
Sins, naughties that we have adopted,
As to why? I’m just bewildered,
We’re castigated, castrated, get cataracted,
We murder, kill, give & get castigated,
Is this message getting communicated?
Explaining one thoughts is complicated…
We’ve been constipated, not consolidated,
We’re disordered, we’ve dithered, doddered…
Defaulted, defected, deflected, & dejected,
Murdered, bribed, MPs get backhanded,
Alliances get disbanded,
Morals do not get expedited,
Freed murderers are paroled,
Honest citizens get exasperated,
Oligarchs laugh at food price rises,
These wrongs are never explicated,
Minds & computers should be expurgated!
Crimes excused, falsified, almost justified,
I’ve lost the plot; must get this ode finished,
Heaven or Hell, they can’t be selected,
Which makes many people frampold & fantad,
We’ve all be criticised, castigated, hated,
Our aggravations have snowballed,
Getting more vicious, but never alleviated,
If lies, deceit were air, we’d all be asphyxiated,
Is death, a feature of life, or a forfeiture?
It could of course be a forewarner…
Life’s gone, but what’s around the corner?
Heaven or Hell, which one would be better,
Naturally I don’t know the answer,
Well, speaking as a grammaticaster…
And obviously an experienced galumpher,
This is just a hypothesis or conjecture…
Bearing in mind I’ve got cachexia,
Which is better to have than copropraxia,
Reserved for those with a particular disorder?
Maybe those of us with ecdemomania?
Maybe I’ll fit into that category?
I could beg St. Peter for an amnesty,
He may consider my plea, ambiguously,
Though he may answer me astringently,
Heaven or Hell? – Hopefully, Heaven for me!
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Sorry but today has been a nightmare.
Carer Joe, replaced with Carer Ejaz.
Who had not done the three hour shift before.
Other things prevented my working on the blog for long. This is really the best I could do.
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05:30hrs: Up and wobbling about.
Kitchen safety checks, took this rainy kitchen view

Then I went to have a long session.
The full works. Hard work due to both cartilages and several mini-seizures during the two hour session.

Carer Ejaz visit. It appears we have only one of the beta blockers left in stock. Ejaz made notes on his mobile. Said he’d sort things out.

Computer, doing the long ode for today.

Raining a bit now, no sunshine out yet. (midday)

Rain started, rain stopped!

Well, I made a right mess of this evenings meal!
Failures: I undercooked the potato cakes. Never have I bought fattier, greasier Golonkowa. The carden peas were taty, though. Unfortunately, I found some mould on the wheatmeal rolls!
A sad end, to a tragic day!

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Not a good day by a mile. I’ll try to smile!
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Inchy Today: Friday 25th April 2025

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– – – Another good week so far! – – –

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Do you usually take the bait?
Or do you weigh up the odds and wait?
Do you think life is hell or bittersweet?
Political Parties, who were bivariate,
Now, there’s Starmer’s shower, & he’s variate,
I wouldn’t say he was inadequate…
Mayhap a little ignorant and inquorate,
Despite his backhanders, he looks lanate,
The Tories, now powerless to negate…
Herr Starmer’s a political novitiate,
No politician can stop or obdurate…
Nobody to challenge him, to objurgate,
As Prime Minister, he’s illegitimate,
His lies got him in power to infuriate…
Kier should be easy to mock and humiliate,
He should not wait to hibernate…
He has no moral convictions to incapacitate,
No guilt, no shame, no loss of face to illustrate,
He loves to regulate but not reevaluate,
His robbing of pensioners will reverberate,
His own HMG rules he does violate,
If his lies continue, he’ll vermiculate,
His lies are ignored, as with Watergate,
I don’t think he’s anyone’s mate!
His dishonesty is too complex to mitigate,
Only gloom for the UK’s proletariat,
His underhandedness can only be profligate,
The proletariat, Keir does provocate…
His lies, he continues to replicate,
Lies by omission on autorepeat,
Before each move, they collectively machinate,
Thesaurus consulted for compassionate…
They all already know how to spell desperate,
Trying to avoid using misappropriate,
Grabbing everything that companies donate,
MP’s expenses are ignored; they do not noviciate,
Starmer continues to confuse & obfuscate,
He’s a clever con man, a tergiversator…
Cunning defrauder, liar, and defalcator,
Hustler, bustler, shyster, & backhand-taker,
A true Labour voter dissapointer & alienator,
One more thing about our new Prime Minister…
He’s a two-faced, double-dealing ambidexter!
I hope I don’t get a visit from his barrister?
To sue me for defamation of character…
He can come to see me, we can have a natter…
If he finds time amidst his backhanding colloquia,
Getting his lagniappes, donations & baksheeshes,

He stole my fuel allowance, but does it matter?
May I express my thoughts about him? A conspirator!
 
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Contrails in the sky!

Not a very good one.

Contrails gone.

That’s a bit better now.

The clock belatedly changed.

FOOD!

Early evening.

Absolutely Lovely!

Late night; Mixed clouds?

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TTFN, Each! 
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 22nd April 2025

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– – POLITICAL – –
Tuesday, 22nd April 2025, 9:30. 0. 0.
What do I see today, politically?
Alcoholically, ablutionary, & apocalyptically!
Backhanders taken, greedily,
Compassion? Only adumbratively…
Questions answered deviantly,
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Top of Starmer’s gaffes,
“Sausages” instead of “hostages”!
Showing his gaffe addictiveness,
He shows tendencies of being anorakish,
Some decisions made, are cartoonish!
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His gaffes can always be worked around,
His lies leave voters spellbound,
Not denied, just juxtapositioned,
He thinks everything he’s done is sound,
Price rises, are not propound!
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The Tories are now but a bugaboo…
To come back, they must be true-blue!
Their defeat for me, was a blanscue,
I knew what Labour were going to do…
Win the election! More price rises are due!
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Bet they’ve got gelt on some archipelago,
Fiddle expenses, take backhanders too,
More & more dosh they seem to accrue,
Gas, electricity cost rises for us though,
Food, bread, spuds, up, even cocoa!
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I unwillingly got up at 05:00hrs.
Removed the nocturnal catheter pouch.
Got up and nearly fell back down again.
Gave way on me.
She did this again a couple of hours later. But I was in the hallway at the time, taking the groceries, so the walls saved me that on that occasion.
Next, a rare prolonged visit from .
As far as I could tell, I’d had no seizures of any type or kind up to now.

I took a photo of the calendar clock to include here later, after resizing it to fit the page.
Took a blue-view photo from the kitchen.
Cloudless! But not for long.

Sorted the waste bags and got them to the waste chute, but stopped myself in time. It was too early to use it yet, for fear of waking somebody living below as the bags tumble the twelve floors to the bin. I returned to the flat, and made up three one litre drinks to satisfy the demands from the bladder & catheter. I used soda water ones. One with some lemon in to flavour it, one with orange cordial, and the last one with Tango orange. Each one also had a sprinkling of bicarbonate-of-soda added.

I downloaded the photos I had already taken to CorelDraw. It took me some time to get the computer to save the files, but I eventually managed to do so.

The intercom came to life. It was the Asda order arriving. The driver packed the lose goods into carrier bags for me. I insisted had picked a drink for himself before he left.
Plenty to pick from.

I started packing the things away, planning to take photos of the food as I emptied the bags.
I walked Carer Ejaz. He hurried me to get the things away, so no chance for many photos. I took two before he arrived. He fitted the diabetic socks, issued the prescription medications, checked the taps, and verified the food dates.

So, I opened the cupboard doors, the fridge, and so on, to take shots of them when he had gone.

First photo.

Second snap. Asda didn’t have two of the breads in stock, so it looks likely I’ll never buy a loaf of my favourite one, the sliced milk roll. Humph!
The fridge.

The freezer.

Top cupboard,

Bottom cupboard.

I got the stew of the day, a vegetarian started.
Doing it in the slow-cooker this time.
Onions, carrots, mushrooms, gravy pot, gungo beans, pickled black peas, pickled water chestnuts, & a tin of garden peas, with some Gung Po added. Left it on a low light for two hours, then turned it up.

Got the ode sorted out and posted it on the blog. 
Feeling tired now.

Carer Joe arrived at 13:15hrs. He rang British Gas again and got through this time, after a long wait, but he did say they were playing jazz music. Hehe! 
Not sure how much the call will cost me, but the lad was on it for a long time. He eventually got through the hoard of human messages, and spoke to someone. He said it has been sorted now. Thanks, Joe.

I went into the kitchenette to turn up the heat for the stew and added some tinned potatoes That I had sliced up. The juice was tasty.

Back in the main rubbish room, I emptied the catheter day pouch into the jug… and…
I was bent down released and kept hold of to shake the exit switch, and Lost Balance Brutus had me over.
The urine ended up on the carpet with me!
Cartilage Chloe, Arthur Itis Len on the left knee, and bashing my arm against the chair as I fought my way back onto my feet after the tumbled, offered as much pain as I ever want to handle again. The day was going so well, as well!
However, it worsened even further for the knees and back. All that bending to soak up the wee as fast as I could. It took me ages to get it anywhere near dry. 
Then, I sprayed the fabric conditioner and fresh air spray around, I on the corner of the ottoman. Aargh! Needless to say, !

Then, as I recovered from the incident and had cleaned it up as best I could, I returned to blogging. Shot up the leg, as far as my groin. Fair enough, they eased off a lot, and were barely reaching the knee. Then the shocks cut out, and cold tingling sensation took over.

Sister Jane rang. We had a natter. She has glaucoma now, bless her. We spoke about football and swapped tales from the past.

I went to put the thin dressing gown on the kitchen window, as the sun was blooming again. I rechecked the stew, nowhere near ready yet, might be an hour or two at least. I left it on high.

Went on the WR Reader, then the comments.

I’ll have to have the meal after the Carer has been. It’ll never be ready in time to eat it first. This leaves me with the pressure (not really) of remembering to put on the night catheter pouch. What am I saying. I am a fool! Somehow, I thought it was 20:45, and it isn’t. It’s 16:45! And it’s the third visit!

Bootiful Puffer Clouds.

I went to get some more cleaners to try again at removing the accidental urine Accifauxpa scent from the carpet.
And found the Rhodesian (as was, it’s now Zimbabwe) police officer truncheon. 1962 I got this.

Joe, then Ejaz made the last two calls.

Grammarly is not working properly; no spell checks are being made. 

NOSH

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TTFN, Each! 
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