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Sister Jane’s Welbeck School Photograph.
Any guesses which one she is?
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I always wanted one of those Japanese trees, a banzai,
I applied to go on TV, the darts game thingy, Bullseye,
But got mugged the day before, a broken nose and a black eye,
I was reasonably brave about it, I didn’t cry…
Of which the lump cuddly nurse can clarify,
We got on well, we were pally and quite chatty,
I said, Could we go for a meal at the Wimpey nearby,
She declined, saying they do not serve cowpie.
We were a similar age, it was around 1973,
So I said, seeking a grope, & feeling bigheartedly,
We can go anywhere you like, just tell me…
She smiled and replied, I think you are a real honey,
But you’ve been robbed of your cash and money!
She walked me out, her rear end moving curvaceously,
I wave goodbye, sensing my loins activity…
Her telephone number pocketed, I felt my alacrity…
Eagerness, desire, I was a young wannabe,
I agree our bodies bear a dissimilarity,
Me wirery, thin, stunted height and sinewy,
The nurse, cuddly, sticky, just my cup of tea!
The phone number got me through to the NSPCC!
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This one is Jane.
Due to a late Whoopsiedangleplop this evening, and by only just starting the above Ode, mayhem ensued. I was then miles behind. So, I need to get some of this done before I fall asleep. I can’t believe that no Depression Darius had hit me yet. He did visit earlier and then again later in the night. I’m adding this bit in the morning, and now I’m more confused than ever. Chronologically, this will be a terrible blog. I’m sorry, but I must press on. And cut things out or short from here on, until hopefully, the morning, if I ever get some sleep in.
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Morning urine, Ezaz classed as a number 6. Why the heck I put it on the graph as a 4, remains a mystery to me. I need to update the NHS graph, and I’m confident I’ll remember to. Tsk!
I rose at 04:50 hours, feeling a smidge perky that I hadn’t overslept. I changed the catheter and made my way to the wet room to get a wash and shave, clean my teeth, and then likely use the
Porcelain Throne. Which, as it turns out, I needed suddenly on my way into the room. What a session, I think it must have taken me a minute to get seated and complete the evacuation, at the
top! As my bum hit the plastic seat, there was what sounded like a splat, which took maybe 5 seconds to clear my bowels… but leaving a distinct feeling that a follow-up evacuation was already brewing! There was a mass of wind during the first evacuation. The minute spent on the Throne was dwarfed by the time it took me to clean up afterwards. I got the toothpaste out and searched around for the toothbrush – I know I used it last night, but where did I put it? Eventually, I spotted it behind the cistern on the floor. I retrieved the small plastic
picker-upperer from the floor of the wet room and then got on with cleaning my teeth. The gums and teeth bled less than last time, which was nice. The plan was to oil the ears next, so I could hear if anyone came in or the intercom rang, and then start shaving – but, no! Luckily, I was standing right next to the WC when the follow-up
evacuation started of its own accord. Talk about lucky, I was. This session was perhaps all over quicker than the first one! That was because it was almost liquid. Making as much mess, though, for me to clean up. Now,
dawned. I find it embarrassing to say, but I went into an unstoppable, fed-up, mammoth-sized sulk. How do these things happen to me every day?
Then, cleaning up, I realised I’d run out of kitchen towels. So sent to get some from the kitchenette.
What a change in my manner. When I saw the view from the window, I instantly changed back to
I felt first, and got Kodak Tim 2, and took a snap. It didn’t turn out too well, but I wasn’t aware of that at the time. I cheered up a little. I returned to the wet room and got on with the cleaning again, almost contentedly.
Then on to the medicationings.
Underbelly, rea-end, Little Inchy,
areas, aftershace on shaving cuts, it’d been that long they all dried solid. Nasal spray was applied to the legs and ankles, using the picker-upperer and kitchen towels. Toothache tincture was used, and I
Phorpain gelled the cartilages of Chloe and Carol, and then Arthur Itis’s knees. Used the mouthwash belatedly and searched all over for a wristlet panic alarm. I eventually found it on my wrist. I know, I know, but it’s a fact of life, and true! As I type this at approximately 20:20 hours, I’m still looking for the wristwatch. Is it somewhere in the wet room?
Surely! Or, maybe not. I’ll try to forget about it and look again later.
Then I remembered to change the calendar clock. And booted the computer.
Oh, dearie me. What am I doing? Just what I haven’t the time for… waffling on! But, being as I feel better, and I am sure that
he is on his way to visit, if he does, I’ll stay up all night again to get this blog up to date, and into Sod ’em all mode again. I love doing it. The blog, I mean. Haha!
But, not yet. When I opened CorelDRAW, it told me that the last saved drawings were not available!
Started the computer and was doing reasonably well, until CorelDraw told me that my last edited file was unavailable. This brought what was not wanted.
For an unknown reason, desperation and frustration, possibly?
I gave up on the computer and took a snap from the balcony. I felt bitter and twisted with everything going wrong. I sulked and swore a little.
A letter arrived. We are to have safety checks done on the flats. The workers will be abseiling up and down the outside for four days, checking the integrity of the building. They asked us not to open any windows fully. It’s good that the NCC looks after our safety.
Plenty of hard-to-read notes left on the memory notepad, but I’ve had enough now. Really feeling down. I’ve taken off the night bag, as anticipated. Dizzy Dennis paid a visit to object to my bending down. And as if things ain’t bad enough, Anne Gyna joined in, I’ll make a meal… no, I won’t. I’ll just have some crisps and biscuits, can’t be bothered.
On the other hand, now the pouch is off, I’ve got the mini roast potatoes that have a use-by date of the 2nd… I’ll get them in the oven. Hope I get to read the cooking instructions. Ejaz often reads them for me, but tonight, with the hassle and depression, I forgot to ask him. I’ll be back in a bit.
Nope, can’t read the label, which is in tiny print and stuck to the bottom of the foil dish. I’ll have to keep checking it as time goes on. Of course, I expect to remember to do that. But… at least if I set fire to the kitchen, someone can read this to find out why. I may have a prolonged seizure, fall asleep or just forget until I smell or see the smoke.
Every damned day is a struggle.
Took a late snap of the wonderful clouds.

Giving in now. Try to catch up in the morning. Well, it is morning now!
TTFN.
I’m back, Saturday 06:10hrs. Catchup.

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Last shot of the day. Taken from the kitchenette window at around 02:20hrs.

TTFN
Cool old photo of Jane’s class.
Takes me back, my memory reaches there, but this morning? Hahaha!
Cheers, Tim.
I did pick your sister. Blimey – what a rum lot they were 🙂
Rough, but happy days. (I’m fibbing)
Ha, yes. 🙂
The picture of sister Jane is nice, Gerry. Your ode is nice and descriptive of your time with the nurse. 😊
So glad you liked them, Sir Tim. 🌺🙏🏼
I’m happy about it too, Sir Gerry. 😊💖🙏
Cheers Sir! 👍🍷
I’m happy I liked them too, Sir Gerry. 😊💖🙏