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Terrible morning shots, again.

Another crap picture!

Ah, a smidge better.

An even worse snap of the food bags.

Not too good.
I might give up taking pictures.

The Ode tells the tale of why there is so little written on the blog today. British Gas cost me pounds and pounds in telephone charges.
I believe the oligarchs do this, putting you through to the line going dead, no direct answers, and more things to do than before you called them. Now they want a photograph of the electricity meter, and a list of the problems emailed to them.
Then they told us it is not their responsibility, and we had to ring another company. They said they are sick of British Gas passing these problems on; it has nothing to do with them! Farcical!
Then we had to ring British Gas again, not only a vast 87p a minute call again, but each time we call, they add a connection charge!
No cleaning done again; spent all the time telephoning BG and Audio Clinic to get an appointment, and the AI told us we had to call on Monday.
The Doctors to confirm the appointment, and to make it interesting, my right hearing aid stopped working! Fed-up? Me? YES!

Sorry, not much humour about today.

Ejaz called the nurse for help with the leg wound, which was bandaged, and will call next Wednesday to check it out. Knocked of the scab on my hand would… a bit of humour actually hear; how did it flow in two directions at the same time?
Not that it mattered, it soon stopped.

Cheerio from a
well pee’d off,
frustrated, old,
going bankrupt,
one-eyed, deaf,
mega-depressed,
seizure-ridden,
arthritic, bleeding,
catheter-wearing,
duodenal-ulcered,
Peripheral Neuropathy,
Pre-Morbid Cognitive
Impairment, piles,
fractured left knee,
near-suicidal, cataract,
haemorrhoids-piles,
hydrocephalus, and
toothache, painful
cartilages, suffering
octogenarian, Inchie!
Who wishes you all a great day,
Contentment, peace, & good luck!

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TTFN
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