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First, I had to look up philosophy,
On the WordHippo online dictionary…
aesthetic appreciation, love of beauty?
That sounded good, certainly suited me,
I’d typed the wrong word in; philocaly,
Saw another word, ‘love of learning & letters’,
T’was a new word for me: philomathy…
Put it in my Ode dictionary, immediately,
I entered philosophy, finally,
A lot of synonyms confused me…
Love of Wisdom, credo, theory?
Academic discipline, truth, reasonably,
Outlook regarding fundamentality,
General principle (usually morality),
Branch of (non-applied) science; lost me!
Psychography: a word that’s new to Inchie…
‘A form of writing claimed not to come from the conscious thoughts of the writer, sometimes performed in a trance’ What a discovery!
I added this to my word list, Psychography.
Psychography fits me so perfectly!
Absobloodylutely! Hehehe!
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I was up, removed the nocturnal catheter bag, did my balance exercises & made the bed; all before 06:30hrs.
A very high in the sky moon was allowed through as the clouds thinned. I returned to fetch the Kodak Tim-2 camera and went back to the kitchenette to try for some decent shots of the moon. The top was a classic Inchie result; somehow, I made the moon oval. Tsk! These cond & third efforts were a little better. Even with one eye, I could see the crevices on the moon. Sadly, they did not appear in the photographs. I did my best, but it just wasn’t good enough. Failure comes regularly. Tsk! 

This morning, the visit to the Porcelain Throne went very similarly to yesterday’s. But this time, there were no whatsoever.
But… there was no evacuation yet either. I’d taken a Senna last night, thinking it might ease things along, but no. Nothing but a trickle of blood from Harold’s Haemorrhoids.

I started the computer, full of determination to get the blog finished, and today started ASAP. I actually got Saturdays finished amazingly quickly, so fast, I thought I must have missed something off? After posting it and having a perusal…
I forgot to add about the Amazon delivery for the new keyboard. I’d tracked it to Mansfield Road in Sherwood and was told I am the next drop. So I hobbled down with the three-wheeled walker to the foyer. A box was left on the table in the foyer for flat 68. A lovely lady, whom I have not seen for ages, came from the laundry room, and it was lovely to have a much-missed natter.
A man and woman passed, and both thought I had left or snuffed it. Hehe! The sweetheart helped me up with the delivery and took the box from the table to flat 68. Those few words helped boost my spirits. But at the same time, it saddened me. Will I ever be able to get out and about again? Thank you… Kragnangles! I’ve forgotten the lady’s name now.

I came across a word that I had not seen or used before, and thought I’d pop it into the words-to-list.
Carer Ejaz turned up in high leg-pulling spirits.
Handed out the medications, then he Phorpain-gelled, Back-Pain-Brenda, hoovered, and said his farewells.
I got back to the word saving…
Three hours later, I was still word-finding and adding to the list, totally oblivious of anything and everything else. The Carer arrived and brought me back to feelings of guilt and a spot of self-lambasting.

Just knocked the knife box off the kitchen shelf.
Hitting’s leg on the way down, and has burst some of the Crocodile skin.
Not feeling too good now, and have just had a mini-seizure that has left me a little confused.
Can’t get down to reach the socks, using the picker-upper might make things worse on the wound.
Going to try and get a meal made now, Faggots in gravy. These take an hour to cook in the oven. Just put them in. Walking is painful.
I’m going to sit down while it cooks.
I’ll ask Carer to check it out for me when he arrives.

Back in a bit.

Well, I didn’t get back in a bit, it is now 09:30hrs on Monday. Things went a little pear-shaped.

Late call, Ejaz worried about me, I was all over the place mentally & physically. The reason remains a mystery. When Ejaz left, he told me to get to bed ASAP The rest might help you. Bless him.

I made some faggots and gravy, photographed the dish on the tray, and they were horrible. In the morning, the photo had disappeared. I may have deleted it in my confused state.

Washed the pots, and this time I hit my left leg against the trolley. I felt the blood running underneath the sock. But could not get the sock off. I’ll ask the Carer to look at it in the morning.

Got the torch, not the usual wind-up one, that seems to have hidden itself away somewhere, and climbed into the bed. It took me a long time to drift off. Coughing, wheezing, sneezing. Reckon I’ve got a cold coming on.
The brain was all over the place; the thoughts that it produced were confusing, and, well, bonkers.

TTFNski
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