Advice/Tips

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – With Odeing

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Crime in Nottingham, enough to send you demented…
Oh, Dementia Doreen already has my mind fragmented,
Price rises on everything; I’m genuinely wherrited!
Compassion, empathy and caring have been disrupted…
No, better words are demolished and corrupted!

Police Assault Increase

Different targets, to beat-up… it’s the truth…
This will please the thirteen-year-old youths,
Who attacked and knocked out a coppers’ tooth!
Or the twelve-year-old, driving a car into a flatfoot…
A sixteen-year-old stabbed and kicked an officer, to boot!

From giving adequate sentencing, the law is abstaining…
A murderer arrested gave the officer a bludgeoning…
However, the criminal is not complaining…
He got his early release after campaigning…
Our legal system needs condemning!

Another murder?
This doesn’t inspire…
Things are getting direr…
Death by ed by fire?
Killed by a burglar?
Mayhaps a genocider?
Emotions and fear, a quagmire!
Crime, accident? I’ll hangfire

Arson?

A requirement to do two thirds?
Gawd, our judges, are soft turds!

Huh!

Top report on Covid, +22,8% new cases over the last fortnight,
Another peak will put us all in a plight…
Bottom report 40% increase… we are in the kite?
Anti-maskers again ready to fight!.

More policemen injured working,
Courts still spanking wrists, befuddling!
Got bail, free, to attack again – backpedalling?
For the police, this must be very galling!

Words fail me!

Violence is rampant now…
Take that, thump, kick kapow!
Instead of having a pow-wow,
From Newcastle to Hounslow…
Guns, knives, and fist blow…
Last week, burglars used a bow & arrow!

Was this caused by sleeping with the wrong fellow?
Or did too much-shoplifted alcohol freely flow?
Did someone not return a borrowed wheelbarrow?
A dispute over unshared winnings at Bingo?
Did one think it right to whistleblow?
Did one pass on a disease, like, impetigo?
Mayhaps one stood on the others’ hammertoe?
But I really don’t want to know…
Far too much violence and aggro!

Yep!

Odiously ‘Orrible Odes on Ageing

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

Inchcocks advice and tips, for whippersnappers who think they will live forever, in diabolical ode. You Won’t!

Be Prepared

It’s essential that you prepare, cause nobody else will care…
Unless you’re loaded, with plenty of cash to betroth, spare,
Have you spent it? Holidays, big car and you’ve safaried?
I’m just explaining how it will be for you, not to be morbid…
I don’t mind if my tips are not absorbed…
All a part of living is death, don’t be worried!

Oh, and there’s nothing to say that you should be hurried!
You may find that you could later, yourself bedrid…
You’ll need help if yer on yer own, and feeling dogeared,
Paying for Carers must not be feared…
New ailments will by now have reared…
You can expect this; it’s normal, not weird!

The family may call to help, your bank balance cleared,
Your reputation may diminish, become smeared…
Help might be harder to get; tell them you are disorientated…
You’ll make them a beneficiary, you’ll be genuflected!
They may make you a brew, say you’ve been neglected…
Then you may die of poisoning… they’ll be suspected!

If you own your own house, but not if it’s rented…
You’ll be treated well, as is to be expected…
The not seen for years crowd will be attracted…
Looking for the Will, but it won’t be protracted,
It’s essential to avoid them becoming malcontented…
Pick your times when to tell them you’re demented!

Them topping you, at all costs must be prevented,
Promise each one a little extra, don’t get resented!
Unless, of course, death will make you contented…
Tell them you’ve sorted their money, all consented…
But, remember who you’ve promised, you may get assaulted!
Or, at minimum, your face resculptured!

When the Doctor tells you, the end is anticipated…
You may wish they’d told you later, waited…
Unknown relatives calling will be prompted,
Is his name Keith, Tim, Richard or Ted?
Not that it matters, cause you could soon be dead!

Ailments Roster

Stroke, Cataracts Diabetes: To Be Added

In my young days, ailments that were lurking,
Were Polio, Double pneumonia, & getting a caning…
Not that I’m sorry, but of all, I was ailing…
We didn’t have to put up with too much burgling,
Sore throat, toothache? Meant saltwater gurgling,
We knew nowt about Cocaine or methamphetamine!

In my teens, there were very few ailments troubling,
Of course, romance took precedence; ah, romancing! ♥
I got into it, even went to the nightclub, dancing…
But I broke my leg one night, and I was only waltzing!
For Suzie, should I try dancing again? I was dithering…
But she left me when the Twist arrived, very belittling!

I met a gal from near Berlin… who really got me going!
Grizelda her name, big lass, solid-built and liked her gin…
But she had to go home; I was lonely again…
Oh, sorry, from the subject I am straying…
Not precisely an ailment, but I got shot while working…
Made redundant, unfair, and I wasn’t shirking!

Then the ailments started coming, flooding…
Duodenal ulcer, Arthur Itis, needed a new heart put in!
Reflux Roger, eyesight failing, and I lost my hearing…
Sadly, that was the end of motorcycling,
So I bought Robin Reliant, though it was exciting…
Sat in a car park, a lorry hit me, anger was igniting!

Then peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed…
Got shot again, then made redundanted,
Life started backpedalling…
But you can learn from my failing!
It’s no point in wailing…
Life is never plain sailing!

When I had the stroke, then I started wailing,
Hospital four weeks, then a home for the ailing…
For five weeks, it was appalling!
Things got worse, they lost my washing…
Gave me no food one day; everyone else was noshing?
I don’t think I’ll ever again go abseiling?

Weeks later, the eyesight faded more, blurring?
Went to see the optician… revealing…
Cataracts and glaucoma in both eyes, they so sting…
Saccades in the right eye never heard of this thing…
The NHS said there is an average of 48-weeks waiting!
Nothing much-going right, or compensating…

Weeks later, I went virtually deaf, hardly any hearing…
In either lughole… both channels were wax-filling…
Since which, four times a day, the olive oil dropping in…
The left worse than the right, ‘Grumbling!’
Not hearing my doorbell tune ringing…
Not the telephone’s ding-a-ling; this’s frustrating!

I took a tumble in the shower, ablutionalisationing,
You’ll get to accept these; they are a part of being…
Doddery, not having yet mastered the walking stick.
Fears and worries will need camouflaging…
Oh, and shopkeepers will try over-charging…
Or more likely short-changing…

With the arrival of Vascular Dementia Doreen coming…
Means problems with organising and remembering…
Dizzy Dennis, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley bothering…
Thought Storms, your brain will need defragging,
The kettles broke, and the toilet is not flushing…
Hopes for the future, you’ll find languishing!

Sock-Glide-Glenda

Sock-Glide-Glenda, to be used after ablutioning!
Very good for bodily parts mutilating…
It can be avoided by not going out, staying in…
But you’ll have to go out to get your medications and gin?
I can assure you, in Sock-Glide-Glenda executing…
You’ll be injured, cut, bruised or exsanguinating!

I solved this painful problem by hibernating…
In the flat, the brain stopped activating…
No perambulating or hobbling… boring!
Although Carers called, to do the medicating…
Some of them like a little chinwagging,
I look forward to the talking Carer’ visiting!

So, Whippersnappers, this you must be expecting…
Keep your wits about you, when Glendaring,
Germolene, plasters and Phorpain gel nearby waiting,
A blood blister, cut, or bruise can really sting!
Worse if you have a boil or carbuncle erupting!
These odes are just tips; I’m not instructing…
Just future problems for you, detecting…
Please don’t see this ode as floccinaucinihilipilificating!

Overview on Inchcocks’ Life

I’ve led a super-fun life; I’m not complaining,
Lived life to the full, wind, sun or raining…
I’ve had so much sex; it’s been disorientating!
Earnt a fortune – I don’t mean to be drum-beating,
I’ve had battles but can’t remember taking a beating…
I’d got through life with faith, honesty and collaborating,
Oh, there’s just one other thing…
This last verse was all me fibbing!

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh Ode Series

Inchcock Today: Ode to Sanity – Part11â…’th

/ Inchie / 3 Comments

ODE TO THE THOUGHT-STORMS
Inspired while Inchy was waiting for the action to start at his mornings’ Porcelain Throne visitation. It took a while!

The Thought-Storms on the Throne are getting nastier!
No respite, the evacuation stopped halfway, I got edgier…
The questions came at me; it couldn’t be crappier…
It’ll be a while before the pain stops, and I feel any happier!

Any logic in the Thoughts couldn’t have been scantier…
From the fear of loneliness, Putin, and questioning Santa!
Should I have a mug of tea or a can of Fanta?
The Thoughts mingled became silly and schleppier…

Hopes, then worries, self-pity, to pathetic fear!
Strangely, after so many years, I fancied a beer!
The brain was making me feel dizzy, oddly queer…
The nose began to run, and it got even leakier!

My confidence in coping died, I became even qualmier…
The Thought-Storm was driving me balmier…
I noticed that my stomach looked lardier…
And Little Inchies fungal lesion got itchier?

The Thought-Storms had me by the jugular…
I tried to fool them and acted jauntier…
Talking to myself, battling the brain,
I couldn’t move because of the evacuation pain!
The whole situation became worse again…
When Neuropathic Pete got me shaking, jitterier!

I knew that later on, things would calm down, likelier…
Suddenly the room felt cold, much parkier…
I even began to shake and shiver?
Gawd, things were getting nigglier!
I felt I was going even loonier!

The evacuation flowed again, which made me panickier,
Should I give a push, or leave it, which would be riskier?
Then the Thought Storms got even bolshier…
And the room felt like a fridge; it got so much chillier?
Was I still in the recliner dreaming? Or going crazier?

Then for once, I got luckier…
I stood up, feeling pluckier…
The evacuation ended alright,
As I pushed with all my might,
It had been a struggle and fight,
I’d won, no bleeding, I felt leerier…

For the Thought Storms stopped then…
As stubbed my toe on the tungsten…
I don’t usually appreciate the pain often…
But the Thought-Storms stopping was a gem!

Part of the Inchies True Make Them Laugh In Ode Series

Inchcock Today: Tue/Wed 16/17th February

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

Wednesday 16th February 2022

The body woke, and immediately appreciated that I can only remember waking up four times! Much better sleep!

The brain failed to fully engage! For I somehow found myself in the spare room sorting out the bag for Independent Living Coordinator, Warden, and desk-top dancer, Obersturmbannfuhreress Deana. Wondering why I’d done this before having a wee-wee or even putting the kettle on to make a brew of tea confused me. (Doreen?)

I had a wee-wee and checked on Little Inches fungal lesion (itching a bit). But it was not bleeding, I just cleaned things up and applied some teeth-grindingly painful ointment to the affected area. Argh!

Thought I was going to make a brew of tea… found myself topping up the Treats-Shelf instead? It was obvious to me, plainly, that Vascular Dementia Doreen was going to be in charge of things today! I could do nothing about choices until things calmed down from her. Which, thank heavens, they did shortly after I’d made a brew of JS Red Label Extra Strong tea. But Doreen’s attentions were mentally crippling at times today. So annoyingly so, as well.

Went to make a brew and took this photo of the dark, dank morning view.

The SYS was not too bad. Pulse at 90, up a bit.

Humph! I did drop the darned BP machine as I was putting it away! Tried it out again, nervous of it being buggered, but it worked okay. Used the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. The surface temperature read as 34.5°c. A bit higher this time. Good!

I got settled on the computer for a slow, challenging, frustrating session on the Local Snippets blog. Not much went right the first time, and much correctionalisationing was needed. But then again, this is the usual scenario nowadays.

05:45hrs: As I got up to go for a wee-wee, right-loud clunking noises came from the flat above! I think Herbert must have had an Accifauxpa of his own. Didn’t bother me, mind; I was up anyway. I don’t think it was loud enough to be heard by anyone else who might have been trying to sleep. Not that the sanctified, consecrated, uncommunicative, ascetic, aloof, sniffy Herbert would be bothered.

Around 06:00hrs, I spotted the moon through the balcony doors, peeping through the thick clouds. So I searched and found the Canon camera, which I’d left on top of the microwave, and spent some time taking many snaps of the moon. Determined to try and get some decent ones this time.

I think I took about ten photographs of the planet in total, but these four were the only ones that came out fairy acceptablyish. At least, I hope so.

Back to the computer and blogging. However, things WordPress-wise came to an end for a while; why?

Fries salary has since been increased to $23 million!

The landline flashed and rang. It was from Natalie of the Health 7 Social Care team, called Meridian. To explain to me that they (Meridian) had had another no show, and my Carer should arrive by 09:00hrs. Nay fuss! Fair enough, at least they let me know.

When $23m salaried Liberty-Global, number-crunching, mist and mirrors boss Mike Fries, Virgin Media got the connection back, I pressed on making errors after mistakes on the blog. After a couple of hours, the card reader failed to identify the SD card reader… Grumph!

Eventually, my trial and error, or the computer did it on its own, the reader was loaded. I stopped doing the blog, and I caught up with other things. Email reading and replying. WordPress reader, then comments. Then on Facebooking.

Carer Elena arrived and looked after me in a caring and attentive way. (I loved that! Hehehe!) She had been called out to cover for the absentee. Elena Took the waste bags to the shute on her way out for me.

I got the blog done and posted and began the Local Snippets one. However…

.

Gnash! Groggleturds! Gorblimey Crap!

To done-in mentally to do any more blogging now. I got the ablutions tackled. Aye… Worra good session it wor! One little cut shaving, a very minor toe-stubbing, and no falls, walking into anything either! Medicated, refreshed, into the new PPs, night attire donned, and off to get summat to eat.

Deana called on me, and we had a mini-chinwag.

The thud, thudding started from above, so at least I know Herbert hasn’t snuffed it. Shame!

My only success of the day… Cheesy baked potatoes and sausages. Sound like nothing special? But I altered the recipe I usually use to make these treats this time.

  • Take the grated cheese out of the fridge an hour before needed. Best do it after starting the oven going.
  • Clean whole potatoes in a not too hot oven (180°), Part of the secret here, cooked at this lower temperature, but for longer. Top and bottom of oven selected.
  • The cheese, preferably Red Leicester, or any strong cheddar into a large basin. Put the cheese in this, then sprinkle some anchovy or distilled vinegar into the dish.
  • Add a good-sized knob of best butter.
  • After at least an hour and a half (according to the size of the spuds), check to make sure the potatoes are really soft with a semi crispy husk. (If unsure, you can sprinkle water on the spuds as you put them in the oven to cook).
  • Remove the pots when nice and soft inside, and cut them each in half on your chopping board.
  • Remember, once the oven is empty, turn the temperature up to 220°.
  • At this stage, expect burnt fingers, and be prepared to make a mess…
  • Save the skins to one side.
  • Spoon out the flesh into the pre-prepared basin and cheese. (You may need to apply Germolene to your fingers afterwards).
  • Mix well with a fork to start with. Then changes to a spoon. When you are content that you’ve ironed out any lumpy bits…
  • Spray the inner of the half-husks with a bit of vinegar or oil of your choice.
  • Load up the husks with the bashed-up potato-cheese mixture, in fact, overfill them a smidgeon, and press down with a spoon.
  • Then run a fork over the top of spuds so that they will brown off crisply and easily.
  • Get them back into the oven, and expect them, if medium-sized, to take 20 minutes to half an hour. But keep checking cause different varieties take different times to cook and brown off.
  • Traditionally, you can now treat any burns gather the many clumps and splashes of potatoes bits and cheese from the floor, cupboards and your clothing.
  • Once you are happy with the colouring to your taste of burntness of the half-potatoes, all you have to do is remove them and resist eating any before they get onto the plate!
Wunderbar!

Serving Suggestion wot I dun last week

I got settled in the recliner, and blissfully I fell asleep. Ah, nice!

“♫ Oh, Susana… ♫ rang out, and Carer Valerie came in. Couldn’t really have a natter as such cause she was on her mobile most of the time. But she granted me some time eventually. Hehe! Thanked her with some treats, and off she trundled. ♥

No messy tonight. I got the head down after Valerie had departed and remembered to take the Hemp capsule. It was lovely drifting off. I only woke up about for times, marvellous!

=  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =

Thursday 17th February 2022

Only a few wakings up during the night. I’m well pleased with that, but, on the fifth…

I more or less sort of bolted into wakefulness. Full of misapprehension, a muddled state of mind, and in desperate need of a wee-wee! Don’t know why I mentioned it now. Although it’s been this way for over a week now…

I worked out who and where I was as I tumbled out of the ÂŁ300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, and had wobbled like Charlie Chaplin to the wet room. I’m not sure why I did not use the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket); it would have been so much quicker?

Despite Bladder-Barry insisting that I needed a wee-wee so badly, things did not flow very easily. I waited patiently and could almost feel the flow coming from the innards… girded my loins as felt it invade Little Inchy… and a pathetic trickle evacuated, that was so painful! Aha, another infection! I wondered if I had any of the tablets left from the last one… but lost my train of thought when an instant need of the Porcelain Throne arrived; at the perfect moment while I stood above it… I thought.

Oh, dear, similar trouble as the wee-weeing? I got sat down, thinking things were going to erupt from the rear-end. I was still there ten minutes later, having a go at the crossword puzzle. Nothing much was moving much at all…

Then, an explosion of gas had burst free! Obviously, I didn’t see it, but I got the feeling that it had caused ripples on the water in the bowl. Instant relief of the pains! Within seconds a mammoth, rock-solid torpedo slowly, very slowly forced its way out, hitting the water before it was entirely out of the bum?

There was no discomfort with it at all? AS I stood up, the stool moved, and splash and clunk were heard… well, I think they did. No mess whatsoever. Mind you, there wouldn’t have room alongside that missile!

Got a good wash and beclothed my body. I went to make a brew of tea. I’m not sure what I did with the camera, but the photo I took of the morning view came out really vivid. I mean, it was around three o’clock in the morning; how did the Canon camera create light when it wasn’t there? Then I remembered dropping the camera last time I used it… argh… I wonder if it’s damaged? I’ll take shots of the Health Checks in a bit, see if the camera is okay this time. Or, did I change some setting when I retrieved the thing from the floor? I’m talking to myself again!

I went to get a duster to clean the computer screen and saw that the moon was appearing through the smallest hole in the dark clouds.

So I skedaddled and got the Canon camera post-haste and back to the kitchenette.

I had to photograph them quickly, cause I could see the clouds enveloping them all the time I was focussing.

One of the pictures came out in a different size to the others? I now have to assume that I broke something in the Canon when I dropped it on my foot yesterday?

Or is it me?

My progress on blogging has never been harder work than it is today. I am so frustrated.

I suppose with getting up early and the kerfuffle with the wee and Throne, added to the semi-confused state of my mind… this must have affected me in some way? Or am I just waffling again?

The care arrived after 07:0ohrs. The new gal, who is so confident. Kiya, I think, or maybe not. She spent a while chatting with me, trying to settle me, I guess. She also recognised I was not like my usual self. Damned good that, after just three visits. ♥

I spent a lot of time doing the header and top graphic. Got them done in CorelDraw and put them onto this blog… Then, realised I’d put the wrong dates on both of them… Gragnangles! It cost me another hour or more to get them amended and reposted!

Aha, I’ve not done the Health Checks yet! So I did them. Started with blood pressure taking. The figures looked okay to me.

Then on the temperature taking. Which was getting higher at last. Apparently, 35°c is my minimum target, they tell me. It’s the closest it’s been for a long time now. Jolly good show, eh?

I found on the SD card a photo I took earlier from the kitchenette window. Forgetting things and getting confused is the mark of the devil; Vascular Dementia Doreen!

Did I mention she’s moved in?.

I just had a visit from Dizzy Dennis. One of the instant jobs. I’m going to get off of blogging now, and get a sit-down, and try to do nowt for a while, Thought Storms permitting.

I made a meal of sorts, potatoes, a small microwave BBQ burger, and a lemon cheesecake. Nowt fancy, but I needed rest and sleep so much by then. Still, I did enjoy it, such as it was. Taste-Rating: 7.5/10.

Washed the fodder things and got down in the ÂŁ300, c1968 recliner. Mind confused and so tired, and within minutes I was off visiting Sweet Morpheus… and dreaming with it.

Half-an-hour later, ♫ Oh Susana ♫ rang out as the Carer entered the flat. Carer Fria Freestone, at least I think it was. Fria soon got the medications sorted in a matter of fact way; she chose her treat; drink (Tequila) and nibble (Easter egg), and was soon off, bless her.

I checked the flat for anything not safe. Taps etc., and got back down in the recliner. At first, I struggled to get back to sleep, but thoughts of Jillie arose, and I was soon off once more into the land of Nod! Hoping to stay that way for once… I’ll see!

Local News Snippets – Part 13â…”rds

/ Inchie / 16 Comments

Local News Snippets – Part 13â…”rds

Not much today, folks.

But even Nottinghamians can have off days, criminally!

We anticipate high winds from Storm Dudley,
To be nearing Nottingham on Friday…
These storms I consider dangerous, antisocially,
I shall be acting rather claustrophobically…
Hemmed indoors, warm and well away…
From wet rain and winds fully…
Taking my tablets, drinking tea, convivially!

Ah, the new cases have dropped a bit…
Yet in our complex, another six have caught it?
In Winwood, Winchester and Woodthorpe Courts,
And staff as well, say the verbal reports…
And, I’m feeling a little out of sorts…

Not a very wise thing to do; a prosecution is now due?
With the number plates being the same too?
Not that I have any strong view…
Driving I’m no longer allowed to do,
Oh, I’ll have to rush to the loo…

Yes, you guessed it, a Chinese takeaway they did own,
They got a decent fine, which I fully condone…
Two years ago, they were done, for cooking a thighbone,
And selling stolen bottles of zabajone!

Do the scumballs of Nottingham start early?
Kids now live life so nastily, violently…
Copying Dad, who is not very fatherly…
Taking their pleasures intravenously?
Do they bother about the law? Not particularly!

Another violent youth for us to worry about!
My biggest concern is his future fallout…
That he will be a criminal, there is little doubt…
For him, the weekend will not mean a meal out…
It’ll be mugging someone; use his head for a kickabout!
The law and rules are made for him to flout…
Another one, for the life of a bully and lout!

Sometimes there’s no escaping the law, you know…
You must avoid any type of emotional imbroglio,
It’s not always the evil men, scum or a wino…
So, off to prison, another one will go…
I notice not many Fathers or Vicars in there, though?

A bit vague this report is, to me?

Humph!

Friday, the threat is of Storm Eunice!
I’m not surprised to hear of this…
The weather forecasting is always remiss,
I had an accident during Storm Alice,
Cost me my car, but I did get some bliss…
I fell in love with Nurse Mavis ♥

My postcode crime has gone up somewhat,
8.2%, It might be considered to be a lot…
No mention of the two murders, what?
The four people who got themselves shot?
Or the baby strangled to death in his cot!
That makes seven… are they in the other crime slot?

Inchcock Fights Power-Point Paul Twice in two days!

It was a losing battle each time. Brought on by a combination of Dizzy Dennis, both times, with Peripheral Neuropathy Pete assisting on the first clouting of the power box by Inchcock.

Just a little lump on the head yesterday. Today, after toppling over onto the box, the body-mass, and there’s a lot of it nowadays, slid like a massive jellyfish, down the box and wall, creating a mess of fleshiness crumpled on the floor. Thus, a little bruising and scratches on his man-breasts, nose and chest.

Further snippets on this subject may follow later.

The Nottingham Lads News Snippets in Ode

Inchcock Today: Diary with Ode

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LAST NIGHT’s CATCH-UP

I decided to get some Cheesy Potatoes done for Carer Richard when he comes tonight.

I soon turned into an uglier imitation but albeit me a smaller one, a younger one, less fodder-wise, shorter, and an older one, of Gordon Ramsay. Hehe!

I even donned my Toque. I thought it would be an unexpected treat for Richard, and all my remaining concentration went into getting it prepared properly. I intended to make it the best I could, and luckily Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was helping by not playing up too much. This is good! I thought, so I pressed on conscientiously and even felt a bit proud of my efforts. Smug-Mode-Assumed. I got the last potatoes in the oven, and they were done in no time. I got them out on the chopping board added all the seasonings you can see in the photo above. Then bashed the living daylight out of potato flesh and mature, strong cheddar, adding Squid sauce (liquid salt), BBQ seasoning, spirit vinegar, Worcester sauce and a dirty great-chunk of butter! It took ages to get it all to mix together, I don’t know how long it took me, but I was all weary-armed by the time I got the shells back in the oven to brown off. Haha!

I was feeling even smugger when they came out almost perfect! Well, as I would have liked them too. I was planning on four for Richard, two for me… I ate mine straight away!

The door chime played its Oh, Susanna tune, and I anticipated Richard coming down the hallway, but whoever was buzzing did not come in. I realised why when I got to the door – “I’d left it locked form when I took my shower!” What a plonk!

Opened the door to see Carer Valerie. I’d made yet another cock-up! I thought Richard said he was coming tonight, but Valerie told Richard is coming in the morning. So, I gave Valerie the cheesy potatoes. I packed them in foil and put them in a bag for her, and she seemed to like the look of them, which made me content cause Valerie is a good gal to me. Wished her farewell, and she took the waste bags to the chute with her, for me.

Before I turned off the computer, I had a look at my Google Calendar for the next few days. And son realised I had not put some things down… although I really was confident that I had done? So, I added them!

Checked on my plates and legs; they were a lot better looking than yesterday. As I was just about to start getting smug again…

I felt the wet warm sensation of gushing blood within the protection pants. I hastened to the wet room to find, with maximum embarrassment, it was not blood but urine! The recent bouts of smugness were abandoned and replaced with a dollop of shame and ignominy! Depression threatening!

I started on the Health Checking in a slightly lower state of joy and contentment. The body temperature seemed fair enough. Got everything cleaned and medicated and changed into the night attire.

The sphygmomanometerisationing showed the Blood Pressure was up a smidge, at Sys 148, Dia okay at 68, and the temperature read 86. Nowt much to worry about; I’ve had a lot higher at times.

I was well tired when I got changed and medicated. The eye drops ought really to be called nose or mouth drops, in my case… Humph! Despite Shaking Shaun kicking off, I must have been tired, for I was off to sleep in a flash.

I was soon woken up by Herbert bashing about. At this time of night, it might not be late for some, but it is me, 22:00hrs gone! The ungregarious, unamiable, unloquacious, haughty, pompous, git! Still, he soon stopped. This may have had something to do with hitting the roof with my walking stick…

Which serves me right, cause I stubbed my toe getting back in the ÂŁ300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner. Tsk!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Thursday 3rd February 2022

I woke up (I do that sometimes you know), and a renewed inspiration took place. I intend to get the cheesy potatoes ready for when Richard calls; he will not be done out of his treat. I laid there and pondered on the logistics of my desire with the cheesy spud making:

  1. I only have a few small potatoes left to use
  2. This will mean I cannot refill the skins for him…
  3. I’ll heat the potatoes, then give them a good mix and bash with the cheese (plenty in the fridge) and seasonings.
  4. Put them in an oven dish.
  5. Timing will be critical, though. Richards ETA, 06:30 to 07:30hrs… Mmm!…
  6. Fingers crossed, I’ll make a start then…

The pots were put in the oven cooking, and I did some blogging. Then got the tubers out and sliced them. I’d got the cheese in the basin all ready with the seasonings already in it. I then took the flesh out to mix in the bowl…

Got the cheesy spuds in the tray and back into the oven. They were soon all looking good and browned off pretty well.

I removed the tray, burning my fingertips as I did so. Then tidied up the appearance, and I wrapped it all in tin foil and awaited Richards arrival.4

I dropped the small husks back in the oven and nibbled them a few minutes later. Nice! I’m afraid I’ve got the taste back for cheesy potatoes. I ordered Iceland to get their baking potatoes and some wine for someone or other. Not saying in case they read this. As I was starting the order, today’s Iceland order arrived.

I’d forgotten I’d already ordered some wine, which was delivered today with the other stuff. I can tell you now, it was for Sister Jane and hubby Pete. I’ll ring them later to say to them they can collect them.

I’m not so sure about the Iceland new Fruit & Salad desserts. In fact, I don’t recall ordering them? But, there you go.

Minutes later, Richard arrived. The lad seemed a little tensed up for some reason to me. He didn’t seem exactly jumping with joy at the meal I’d made for him. But kind enough to take it anyway. Methinks Richard is having some bother of some sort. I hope whatever it is turns out right for him. I hobbled him to the door and wished him well as he departed, taking the waste bags with him. Bless him!

Back to the blogging. Got a call from Sister Jane and told her about the wine awaiting her pleasure. Then the Haematology Nurse, Hristina, arrived. She was in a rush again but chatted while she took the blood. Gave her an Easter egg, but I had to almost force her to take it. Hahaha!

Sudden Dizzy Dennis visit, joined shortly with shaking Shaun. Not too good this.

Mind-Wanderings and pointless Mental Memorabilia

A gal once asked me, I think her name was Gloria?
Have you ever experienced utter euphoria?
We then got grips and a bit overfamiliar…
She asked again; I said no, and we ate a veggie burger.

Christine later said, she thought me peculiar,
So I didn’t see her again and chased after Julia…
I liked her, although she was older and ganglier,
But she didn’t take to me, she was always wiser…

Then a gal who was brawnier, my beloved Grizelda!
Encounters of passion, she wore no brassier…
Her body was all firm and desirably muscular,
While it lasted, I did find utter euphoria…
She was visiting the UK, from MĂĽlheim an der Ruhr,
Grizelda went home, leaving me feeling sadder!

Then came Fern, for me, she was classier…
Sex-mad, but grumpy, niggly and crotcherier…
And it has to be said, she was much clumsier,
She’d greet me with not a smile, but leer…
Proving her to a smidge superior…
With pleasurable connections, she couldn’t be freer!

I’m writing this rubbish cause I’m having a Thought Storm,
My wording and writings, not precisely in the artform,
What can you expect from someone so lowborn?
Musical, me? I did try to learn the fluegelhorn…
Also the piano, private lessons from a Capricorn…
One lesson and he said ‘You shouldn’t bother’: with scorn!

My bank balance is getting nearer to being overdrawn…
So, I’ll not be going holidaying to climb the Matterhorn,
Or my dream, of going on a boat around Cornwalls Zawn,
Hello, I just had an attack from Shaking Shaun,
Better stop now, clear up my on the floor sandwich of brawn!

Part of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Hehehe!

Inchcock’s Odes to Why?

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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WHY COVID?

Covid-19 and Sars-CoV-2, why they came, is what I’m thinking?
Government confused findings, need reabsorbing…
Pandemic and HMG hold a party, hobnobbing?
Annoyed me, so this Ode I’m now scribing…
Yet, to their rules, I’ve been acquiescing,
Two years now, since any Doctor interfacing,
Definites, the Government are sidestepping?
I feel like I’m permanently convalescing,
Anti-maskers are not exactly applauding…
Anti-vaccers protests showing no signs of concluding,
Jab or mask-wearing? Some are not deciding…
I follow the guidelines, but it can be confusing,
Doing what you can to protect others is frustrating,
Between the Do’s and the Don’ts, there’s bile offloading,
No give or understanding of others, compassion is subsiding,
Sarcasticness abounds, even where I am residing!

Coronavirus arrives, HMG problems beginning,
Changes meant more hassle, problems teething,
Proletariats, needing hopes strengthening,
Some vague chance of things improving…
New strains, deaths, started the mudslinging…
Ordinary voters started teeth-gnashing,
Anti-vaxxers and maskers began badmouthing,
But some uncaring folks just started shrugging,
Accusing HMG of ignorance and gross mismanaging,
The businesses set out to gain more profit – I’m seething!
Indeed, we should be encouraging, not rubbishing?

Official figures are baffling and misleading,
Dyscalculia makes it difficult in reading…
Have the Governments been Shanghaiing?
In favour of financing, from businesses and banking?
Are their advisors’ advising wrongly and failing?
Does their arriere-pensee to us need rethinking?
How do they stop the money-men from sabotaging?
The bankers, investors from profit-pocketing?
Indeed it’s impossible to stop them interfering and scavenging?

And, whatever’s happened to the political duelling?
No calls from Labour, as Kinnock would have been lambasting?
Lib-Dems are still about, are they? I’m just asking!
I think I worked it out; why is the silence blasting?
They both think, thank heavens, we are not ruling…
All this confusion, entangling… they’ve no idea of detangling,
So give Boris no bother, or at the subsequent voting…
The masses may vote for us, and we win… nonplussing!
The thought of us dealing with things is blood-curdling!
Labour in power, cause enough for frightful caterwauling!
Well, that’s enough of my HMG & Covid caterwauling,
Not such a good Ode, this one, it left me… Tsking!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

WHY AM I SO UNLUCKY?

I’ll start with one event, the heart thing,
That was not unlucky; it did not leave me whining!
This operation saved my life… Else I’d have been missing…
The Hernia, Peripheral Neuropathy and Colin Cramping,
Cancer of the bladder, and stroke, and a lot of bemoaning. Hehe!

Being an unlucky sod can be so time-consuming,
Leaving very little time left for resting and vacuuming,
A Whoopsiedangleplop, maybe the Thought Storms brewing…
A memory loss, missed bus, lost keys or painful burping…
From near-deadly to a tap left running or finger burning,
Ailments, senility and old age means the end of by beep-bopping,
The worst is Vascular Dementia, the brain transitioning…

My diabetes and oedema cause much bother urinating,
Each morning, the feet will be either bloated or very thin,
It’s not so bad since I stopped doing my trampolining,
The tumbling or fallings is constantly threatening…
Neuropathy and Shaking Shoulder Shirley are disquietening!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I regularly get subconjunctival haemorrhaging,
Saccades and the new eye problems are definitely worrying,
Floaters, cataracts and glaucoma, almost frightening!
Everything taking longer to do, from the ablutioning…
Painful bending to retrieve dropped items can sting!
Oh, and evacuations on the Throne, and Wee-weeing!

I nearly always cut myself shaving,
Sometimes taking many minutes peeing…
Occasionally, taking only seconds at urine freeing!
The Porcelain Throne, often with evacuation misfunctioning.

Porcelain Throne options for me are; water-like spurting…
Which can be over like lighting!
Or resistant, rock-hard, and bloody,
Either or both are constantly hurting and agony!

Cleaning, me or the flat internally, is so burdening,
Seems nowadays to take an eternity, and much groaning,
Hardly any time for my beloved Word Pressing,
My confidence is egringolering…
My hearing is worsening…
Every task’s success is gimping!

The leaking blood through the plaster was bubbling!
But it was not at all troubling…
Cause actually, it made me do some laughing…
Which I found rather refreshing!

Inchcocks’ True Odes to Life Series

Inchcocks Local News Snippets – Part 12â…ťth

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

Don’t forget, when it’s wet, Aspro keeps you dry,
A saying from my youth, putting this in, you may think why?
Sorry, I’ve not got the foggiest, I’m losing it, I cannot lie!
So, the police take it seriously if it’s been reported?
A passing policeman saw it; would he be uninterested?
Oh, my sarcasm is at its peskiest!

By the time I’d read this, I’d a headache from my arithmophobia!
The NHS workers are well above being mediocre…
The pressure they’ve been under must have been a live-changer,
Can’t we do something, so they can have a recharger?
To give them a decent pay rise – reading this, Boris, you minger!

I don’t mean to be a rumourmonger or scandalmonger, scaremonger, But I’ll hold my hands up to being a gossipmonger!
But why does a Tory like what Boris used to be… Nae, not really!
Pay big raises to some, and others are not so feely-feely?
Boris is not a low-lifer… more like a copy of Lucifer?
Whatever your view; I think it’s the type of politics you prefer
Are politicians, each one a philanderer, or pilferer,
Are they better than a postman or scaffolder?
A lot of them get caught, exposing their doojigger…
Expense fiddlers, tax-dodger, or some a doppelganger!
They all seem to quickly point their forefinger…
They’ll make one if there isn’t a political cliffhanger,
Some MPs are better than others at propaganda…
I think of them when I’m using my guzunder!
Cause they take the piss, lie, cheat and plunder…
Cunningly increasing prices, they invest with a Luxemburger…
Still, bless ’em, they have a lot of money to launder!.

The grey cells seem to have got a bit mixed up here, doing this little ode below. The plot sort of evaporated. I ended up having a go at the politicians. Nothing new, I know, but usually, I can control these urges. Getting it back online, in a fashion, took me ages. Sorry!

Figures and numbers again, what an ache,
They can be manipulated, for the politicians’ sake!
For the politicians and wealthy, caviar at Le Gavroche,
Where a dinner cost around $590 per person, Ouch!
Still, I’m content with my cheesy potatoes and a fishcake,
Too much and rich food gives me the tummyache…
Anything rich, like roast quails, venison or cheesecake,
My finances are tight, my bank interest is opaque,
I’ll stick with the base food brought over by Francis Drake?
Potatoes, chips, mash, roast or raw… I always want more,
It’s the prol’ in me, I’m used to struggling, always been poor,
I’m at ease with plebs; they try to nick off of you, I assure…
But by my having nowt they haven’t got, I’m safe for sure
I need nowt else, no desire for haute couture!
Yep, in all things and areas, I am, at best, demure…
Just as well that I’m no epicure…
I’ve lost track of what I typing about – a mental rupture?
Intelligence, education, long ago I did disinure!

I’m not doing a lot for Nottingham’s tourist industry here!

When I see such figures, confident, I’m not!
Then again, who am I, intelligent, clever… You what!
I had faggots and potatoes for lunch… but it matters not!
How are these numbers arrived at and begot?
Are they accurate, true, to be trusted, or am I a clot?
I think they are part of a political plot…
Believing them leaves my brain in a knot,
Is truth doctorable, like a camera shot?
Have they been got at by a Judas Iscariot?
Are they genuine? Or fiddled, and tommyrot?
Or, am I a thicker than I thought fusspot?

Murderers, murderers who tell people they are going to kill someone an hour before they do, and the pathetic namby-pamby, out of touch with reality, criminal fancying, Arf-arf, judge tells him he believes you didn’t intend to kill him. Humph! No, you bewigged Pratt! The drugs made him do it, which are supposed to be illegal! No wonder crime is rising, with pillocks like this giving laughable sentences for murderers, and he can’t remember the evidence!

But it doesn’t bother me, oh, no!

Reminds me of a humorous happening that occurred when I was recovering from the heart op in the City Hospital. I was to be allowed visitors that day and had an appointment with the DVT Clinic in the morning. They collected me, and the chatting merrily nurses that took me to the clinic stopped in the main corridor and asked if they left me there for a couple of minutes, would I mind?

No problem, I replied. (I got the crossword book and pen snuck under the blanket on the trolley). I fell asleep, though… I was woken by a very concerned and harassed looking and sounding nurse.

I’d been there apparently, for over two hours, and no one had missed me. (It’s with me being so popular, Haha!) Sister Jane and Pete had come to visit me to find an empty bed – Poor Jane was genuinely concerned (I owed her a tenner – Haha, only joking!)

Up and onwards, near the end now…

So, if anyone fancies a lovely peaceful break over Easter, Covid restriction permitting; Why not visit Nottingham. They have a few cafe’s that have not gone bankrupt during the lockdown. If you fancy staying, there are many retail units available for sale or rent on the half-mile stretch of Mansfield Road available… You might even consider moving to Nottingham? No? I don’t blame yer!

Part of The Inchcock Make Em Laugh with Odes Series

Food Glorious Food!

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

♫ Food Glorious Food… ♫

But no hot chocolate or custard!

I beginneth the Ode, with the tale from Tuesday,
With food being delivered from Iceland, I say,
Sainsbury’s, I wanted to use, as I would, ordinarily,
Could I get access to their site? No flipping way!
Hence, my disappointment today, Wednesday…
Sorting the food delivered left me in dismay!

I opened the first bags onto the server trolley tray,
Bananas looked nice and green, should last many a day,
But the potatoes had growths on them and use by this Thursday!
No faults with the orange juice, pasties Cornish and Cheesy,
The lamb shanks I’d not had for a long time (budgetary),
I’ll have a lamb shanks in gravy tonight, to myself I did say…,

The next load I put out on display…
The dates left this septuagenarian giddy!
No dates on either pack of tomatoes, hey!
Both lots were soft and beginning to decay!
Two loaves of bread, both expired today!
Sugar snap peas, they were safe until Friday!
The mushrooms one day left, Wednesday, today!
The other stuff’s dates seemed to be okay!

The last few bits seemed better by to review,
But the brown cob packs should have been two!
But they only sent one, which was dearer – Boo!
Fairy liquid was on offer, just ÂŁ1… that’ll do!
Oh, and the sweet chilly Thai sauce was ÂŁ1 too!

Then the old warped memory came into play…
I didn’t want or need the chilli sauce anyway!
Memory-Lapse – another waste of effort, and monetarily,
For I’d got a massive jar last week,
Pissed off with myself, so’s to speak.

My Biggest Gastronomic Disappointment Ever!

Sob, Blubber!

I got around to cooking the lamb shanks at last

I got around to cooking the lamb shanks at last,
Such a long time since I’ve had such a repast…
I could hear my taste buds as they clacked…
Remembering the glorious taste, from the past…
Assured the delightful flavour would be a blast!

My hopes were high; I intended to eat it all…
But my cheeriness had a great fall…
It was horrible! I didn’t like it at all!
Sweet and sickly, for lamb, not natural,
Disappointing and incredible!
The sweetness made it inedible,

Why did I trust Iceland? Incomprehensible!
For Iceland, it’s only typical…
Nowt to fret over, nothing unusual…
I’d buy them out and sack them all…
If I had the wherewithal…

Depressed! I pottered about in the cupboards

Stuff in the end cupboard, to be eaten…
Most unwanted substitutes from the heathen…
Wicked Iceland and Morrison’s: They are Rotten!
Unwanted crap I don’t like sent, all too often!

No shortages of seasonings, though…
Parsley, Chilli, BBQ, Pickles and Oxo,
Lea & Perrin sauce, Balsamic, Marmite,
The innards are rumbling… problems gastro?

Oh, dearie me!
To the Porcelain Throne, I had to go,
Shit! I’ve just stubbed me hammertoe!
I’m just not a lucky bunny, you know!
What was I odeing about a while ago?

The cupboards… vinegar, soups, beans, red, gungo,
Mulligatawny, black and white pepper, Go-Glow…
Go-Glow? Why is that in there? A mystery, though?
With flavourings galore! Core, my toe’s getting sore…
No meat hereabouts… A lamb shank for sure…
A packet of out-of-date marshmallows…

Ah, I’ve got the bean and cheese pasty in the fridge!
I checked the sell-by-date and found a dead midge?
I’m struggling here, just a smidge…
With this Odeing verbiage…
Hell, summat else out of date, a box of porridge!

The Door Chime, Chimed!

It was the Amazon delivery;

On the orders of cleaner Esther, I’d ordered an ironing board…
But another Whoopsiedangleplop had matured!
These and Accifauxpas for me, are assured,
There’s no way stopping them from coming; it can’t be cured!
Their perpetuity can be assured…
I think that can be said officially; rest assured…
Another cock-up, mistake or Accifauxpas will be sculptured!
They just can’t leave me alone; it’s such a bind!.

Thoughts At The Time

Is the ironing board a self-assembly one, then?
The box wasn’t heavy, it’s too tiny, indeed… Freakier!
Got inside and found they had sent; no snigger!
An ironing board cover? Another Inchy blunder?

Now I can see where and how and feel in despair!
Is that not a picture of an ironing board above there?
My lousy eyesight causing problems there…
I’m fed up and don’t think life is fair!

Inchcock’s Making The Best Of Things Series – In Ode

Inchcock Today: Part Ode – with an Ailments Update

/ Inchie / 25 Comments

SUNDAY NIGHT

The extra handicap of the reaction to the Booster Jab; made my doing anything, taking an inordinately much longer time than usual. Thus, it was nearly midnight last night by the time I’d got the blog finished and posted. Although aching and in pain, and really needed to get some sleep. The mind and body wanted to close down. But, Inchcock, an epicurean, foodie, glutton, gourmet, chow-hounder, and well-known foodaholic, put an end to any thoughts of joining in with any Sweet Morpheusness for a while.

I foolishly started to make a belated meal, and a mini-feast it was too! At last, come around about 01:00hrs, I got it served up.

Raw fresh peas from Nigeria. (Shame the ones from Peru are not available, they were sweeter than the Nigerian ones by a mile, but beggars can’t be choosers when things are out of season) Oven-baked potato slices, tomatoes, crispy smoked bacon was the main course. The bacon was eaten in slices of milk roll bread and was dunked in some absolutely great tasting Thai sweet chilli sauce. I was satisfied with the substituted bottle; as for where I got it from, well, I’ll get some more from Amazon.

Which reminds me, I’ve got some diabetic bamboo socks delivered today. Well, that’s what I say! Bearing in mind my cock-up stroke Whoopsiedangleplop with Sainsbury’s and Morrison’s order dates, I get them arriving yesterday; when my Google calendar clear says that the Sainsbury one is coming Monday and the Morrison one on Tuesday… I’m sinking into the morass mess of mental mayhem of memory mishaps. It has to be admitted. Vascular Dementia Doreen is to blame, methinks.

Of course, you have to bear in mind that it is me we are talking about! No chance! Anyway, I feasted well, did some belching, took an extra Codeine, and flaked out on the recliner searching for sleep…

MONDAY MORNING

Sleep as I recall it, when I got up for my fifth wee-wee, at 03:00hrs, seemed far away, a luxury denied me again! Thought Storms Stewart kicked of the instant the eyelids drooped and threatened to nod off. It’s incredible how many things you can fear, hate, smile and laugh about, returning memories to torment you on your failed options and actions. Self-disgust, the injustices of those in charge, shames… not to mention the ailments having a go at you. I had no idea what time I got off into the land of nod, but I kept waking up thinking, I’d better get up, the carer will be here soon – then nodded off again.

The Doctor’s response to this problem when I spoke with her (a few years ago now, of course) Was, “Yes, many older people get this… any other problems?” I decided not to bother her further.

As I woke for the umpteenth time and was going through the routine of planning to get up, then falling asleep again, the door chime rang out its loud, ♫ Oh, Susanna ♫ tune. Gawd, it was late! Carer Richard came in to find a foggy-brained Inchcock staggering up out of the recliner. Hahaha! Fair enough, he does usually find me fuddle-brained anyway.

Richard asked the required medical question, as they do on a Monday. And did a wristlet alarm check to ensure the signal was getting through to the Nottingham City Homes people.

It was his last call, and I enjoyed a little nattering and moaning session with the lad. I thanked and treated him, and off he went.

Then as I put the kettle on belatedly, I took some shots of the morning’s misty views from the kitchenette window.

The photographs didn’t help my spirits much,
Didn’t cheer me up; I still felt I was a bit of a schmuck,
An old man, (Gillie) again being lovestruck…
If she was to adopt me, I’d be thunderstruck!

I wonder when the socks will arrive, they’re made of bamboo,
Had to get some; it’s too cold not to wear them now, Boo-Hoo!
I’ll check the Amazon tracker; that’s what I’ll do…
Nine stops away, couldn’t ask for better, could you!
The socks seem to be of reasonable value…
One can’t say that very often of Amazon, can you?

In an effort to cheer missen up, I perused the box of gifts that HRH Lisa and Billum had sent to me from Fort Thomas in the USA. I know, I wasn’t going to open it until Christmas Day, but anyway…

The box within the box was so pretty, it had to have been decided on by a lady. I put it on the server trolley and investigated away! But I’ll not put them on display until Christmas day.

Just look at all the work Lisa must have put into making these for me!

She even named them for me in the card she sent with them! ♥

Crazy Furry Goat (Goliath), Long Eared Rabbit (Roger), Wacky Cat Kawaii. Pink Fuzzy Monster (Malcolm), Rudikth, the Red-Nosed Reindeer! The names in brackets are those I’m considering giving them when they get on display and become along with Koala and Teddy Bear, my morning chinwagging partners! ♥

I’ll have to make sure I give them names that I might remember. Otherwise, they will get confused about who I am talking to if I use the wrong word. Hehehe! They put in some ‘Moon Pie’ cakes as well. They are not available in the UK. And they look rather tasty! I shall not indulge until Christmas day!

When I showed them off to the carer who came to check on my medicines stock, she thought they were just like a Wagon Wheel. When I put a picture of an unopened lemon Wagon Wheels on my blog a while back, Billum said how they looked like Moon Pies. Thus they sent them to me to try. Bless their cotton socks! ♥

♥ Thanks again, HRH Lisa and Billum! ♥

The door chime rang forth again;

♫ I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee,
I’m going to Louisiana, my true love for to see
It rained all night the day I left; the weather it was dry
The sun so hot I froze to death; Susanna, don’t you cry.
Oh, Susanna, don’t you cry for me
cos’ I come from Alabama
With my banjo on my knee… ♫

The daycarer from the Meridian office was the day carer; she’s come to check that my medical stocks were sufficient for over the holidays. She thought the Moon Pies were like Wagon Wheels… Oh, I’ve already said this, I guess, sorry!

She thinks I’ll need some more Codeines getting in to last me. Which is not surprising, with all the extras I’ve been taking; What with the 15hr agony of the hospital trolley marathon, the bruised bum, then the absolute nightmare of the reaction to the booster-jab, I think I needed, they got me through anyway. I expect someone somewhere to believe I’ve become addicted, however, and another lecture from the Doctor, of course, over the phone.

Another Escapee Pea!

Making a fresh brew, I trod on something rock-hard on the kitchen floor, almost like an electric shock, it made, jump a smidge. It seems lately that these escapee garden peas are coming out of hiding regularly? Haha!

I checked again in the Mazon bamboo sock front situation. And guess what? As you see, this was the message I got from them. Delivered today; your package was left near the front door or porch. Well, it hadn’t been! I got myself into a mini-flap when I wondered if it had been delivered to Winchester Court in error?

So, I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Warden, Desktop Dancer, and who is also not interested in adopting me! Tsk! It’s just not fair! She said it might be downstairs in the lobby; I mentioned Winchester Court, she said the flat is empty. I had a vision of them leaving the stuff outside the door of an empty apartment – if so, it would not last long! Deana said she’d look for me and let me know. I thanked her and returned to the computer in another failed effort.

Hehe! Ferreting around for something to nibble, I came across the packet of new mini-cheddars I’d ordered, but I resisted the temptation. I’ll have them later when I’m more depressed or even hungrier.

Medicalisation Checks

The right arm looked betterish, and the pain has subsided a lot now.

Little Inchies fungal lesion had not bled all day. I liked that a lot! But I am in no way being fooled; it’ll come again!

The legs (the Knees) had improved beyond recognition this Monday. I had a job to recognise them as my own. Although, Arthur Itis was getting a little frisky with it when I was writing this.

Warden Deana Saves The Day

Deana rang the door chime and entered – with the parcels of socks in her hand, bless her! They had been left down in the front lobby by the Amazon delivery urchin. Along with several other packages for different people! I thanked her kindly.

ABLUTIONALISATIONINGS

Cleaning the teeth broke another tooth,
The few teggies left are getting corrosive,
But I wash brushing a little aggressive,
Shaving, not a single cut or nick,
Showered, I almost felt hygienic…
On the radio, the London philharmonic,
Stubbed my toe; that was chronic…
But, I don’t want to nitpick,
Even though I tripped over the walking stick!

Food Glorious Food

The dessert was a bit special. On the label, it read; Raspberry Gourmet Greek-style thick & creamy live yoghurt with fruit layer. Confusing innit? Tasted okay. Cooked seasoned sliced Polish pork knuckle with seasonings sarnies, Nigerian podded peas, and crispy chips (oven fries). Flavour rating; 8/10.

Late Phone Call

A call from the opticians came in. Which left me more confused than ever. According to the lady calling me, I did not have an appointment with them. But when I called in there last week on my way to the dentist, I called in to book an appointment, got home and put a date in the calendar, January 4th 2022. She said they had not made an appointment for me?

I’m getting mixed up here; back to the phone call: She asked if I could come in the morning (today at 09:00hrs for an eye test? Presumably, they had had a cancellation?).

Being the keen attentive, alert, sharp sort of person that I’m not, I made another Whoopsiedangleplop; I told her her ‘Yes’ I’d come. Then realised I had the Amazon order coming? Too late to get help ringing her back; the staff had all gone!

Evening Carer Valerie arrived, and I soon fell asleep after she’d gone.

Fed up! Woke up wide awake at midnight and got this blog finished and posted, a little late, but betterer late than never!

Morning All!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe Series