Inchcocks Tuesday 31st May 2022 – With Ode

ODE to MEMORIES

♫ Memories are made of this… ♫

Memories I have of sweets costing a farthing!
Getting skin cancer through over-sunbathing,…
I had sex once when I was thirtysomething…
Being six, Mam ran away, and I learnt snogging,
Christine, her name, I was her plaything!

Skidmarks on my unwashed underclothing.
Trying my hand as a pugilist, boxing…
I never won a bout; I was constantly losing…
So tried the sports club amateur wrestling,
Just one fight, it left me frothing and bleeding,

Years later, I tried my hand at WordPressing,
Got dementia. It is very depressing…
Worked in security, tried a spot of sleuthing,
Caught a crook once; he was very scathing,
He was found not guilty; I was seething!

I went undercover pretending to be birdwatching…
Dressed in camouflage, green and brown clothing…
Binoculars to hand, RT and truncheon packing…
Fell out of the tree as I suspect, watching…
Lost my job; it was gutwrenching!

Realising how bad I was at odes & blogging,
When I was getting on a bit, seventysomething,
I had a period of deep thoughts and soulsearching,
Seeking whatever, a reason to carry on trying…
Now I’m approaching the time for dying…
Oddly enough, there’s no crying, just a bit of sighing!

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

TUESDAY 31st MAY 2022

05:10hrs: After yet another horrendous night of shooting awake, nodding off and bursting back into ersatz life, I gave up; I needed a wee-wee, anyway. But that in itself was a nightmare… well, morning mare!

The regular of late, trickling, waiting and whistling, was followed by an even more extended period of dribbling! At least by taking my time and making sure that things had stopped, I avoided any splashing of the furniture, carpet or my body parts.

I started the sphygmomanometerisationing. BP first, with satisfactory results, as you can see here on the left. A smidge high, but nothing compared to many of last week’s figures for the SYS, at 149, DIA 74, and Pulse 78bpm. Very good! The Chinese (Hong Kong) was built by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was still showing low. Compared to the target set by the hospital, of 35°c, at 33.7°c. But no worries!

I made up a waste bag and then went to the wet room to check out the feet and ankles that I found affecting my balance and hurting me a smidgeon.

I dug out yesterday’s photo of the pins to compare it with today’s (top).

Quite a change? The DVT and old ankle blotch had gone all artistic and more pronounced. Which is what the pains did as the day developed. They have not been this bad for months? Then I got the kettle on but didn’t get to make a brew as the innards summoned me back to the wet room.

Once again, the motion was reluctant to start moving. So, I had a go at the crossword book, a different one, as the previous one had got me struggling. Got a couple of answers in, and the sludge started coming! I can’t recall ever having a more gooey sticky, pongy evacuation than this was! Half a new toilet roll later, I started the mammoth task of cleaning up. Had a wash, got dressed, and went back to the kitchenette.

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana, and got some photos uploaded to CorelDraw, then the computer. Got the Monday blog updated; it took me a long time. During which the feet started stinging even when I was sat down. What’s going off down there?

Carer Richard arrived. The lad didn’t look too good. So I launched some humour at him, to which he responded well. As he got the medications to me, the poor chap started sneezing and coughing, and he was sweating so much! Not that that stopped him for long, he even showed me how to get the Grammarly extension, not to give corrections for sentence building. Unfortunately, it stopped Grammarly from working at all! Hehehe! I laughed because we got it back on and laughed about it. (Phew!) Richard didn’t look any better when he departed, but I think he was a little happier. I hope he is not coming down with any illness. Fingers crossed that he’ll be back tomorrow and feeling better. I got the Monday blog post done last, and the Morrison delivery arrived.

The delivery person brought up the flowers first, so he didn’t damage them, and he went down to the other bags; that was kind of him. These are for the Wardens. He fetched the different parcels, and I got them into the kitchen.

Got the things stored away. There is no frozen today; the freezer would struggle to get a biro or single fruit gum in. At least I got some of the battered chips, not the ones I wanted, but the last ones tasted nice enough. They substituted for battered onions with a tray of mashed turnips? Still, they’ll do for me. The bananas almost made me feel guilty! They looked like a set of parents with their children. Alright, so I’m a little weird at times! It has to be admitted, I fear. My travel into loony-land is taking on a little speed lately. Hehehe!

Cleaner Esther arrived. Talking all the time, picking fault with me not getting out for some exercise… then she took the laundry down to get done. I missed most of what she said. But, I did pick up on my ordering too much food. I’ve long stopped bothering to explain things to her. Hehehe!

I took Morrison’s Amazon food delivery wrappers to the waste chute. The fire door was wedged open into and from the flat’s lobby area. Some work of some sort was taking place. The lighting of some sort, I believe.

I limped (the flipping feet are getting even more painful now?) down through the lift lobby and to the waste room door at the end to the left.

I partly trapped my knuckle in the cast iron lid as I shoved the bags into the chute. Nothing new; I’m becoming something of an expert in doing this!

Back to the flat lobby and through into 72 Woodthorpe Court single apartment. Well, I would; I live there. Hahaha! I may be losing it again here?

I got some Facebooking done and the WordPress reading. Later, got the oven warming up for the nosh, specifically the battered chips.

Esther returned with the washing, all done. Oh, the tongue lashing I suffered. I’ve no idea what they were about, mind you. But they flowed at me without relenting or relaxing for a good few minutes. Deafness can have its advantages. Hehe!

I’ll get the meal started, and then, if I don’t fall asleep, try to get the top Ode-making started. Got the beer-battered chips in the oven and got some WordPress comments answered, then went to check the ovens in the chips… or even the chips in the oven.

Enjoyed this plateful immensely. Especially the beer-battered chips. And soft bloomer sliced bread.

A Taste-rating of 8/10 was given. Then, as I had failed to get any desserts with the food order (my fault, Doreen Dementia’s), I guiltily had one of the baby bananas. You can see how small they were here. Tasty lovely. I’m not sure, but I might have heard it crying as I bit into it! Hahaha!

Washed the pots up. And then proceeded to drop the washing-up liquid bottle to the floor via my right toes. What a mess! Got it sorted out and just finished it.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and in came the Evening Carer. Well, Carers, mob-handed. Hehehe! They got the medications sorted, and we had a three-way natter for a couple of minutes, and off they went. Bless ’em.

I got the TV turned on, and there was no reception at all? Mayhaps the electricians, needed to turn off some connection to get done whatever they were doing? So, I put in a Heartbeat DVD to watch. The message came up No DVD inserted! Oh!

I reset the Freeview system. But only a third at most of the channels were loaded, and all West Midlands? So, reset again, picking the ‘All’ option. This time it came up and seemed to be working. But the DVD wasn’t having it! Humph!

I could see the sky’s colour changing through the paper-thin curtains. And nipped out to take a photo of the unique cloud and sky colouring. Not the brightest I’ve seen by a long shot, but I thought it was an awe-inspiring bit of nature.

Fifteen minutes later, the glow of the sun’s setting permeated the room, and I hobbled into the kitchenette. To take this picture. Another masterpiece of nature. I’m so glad I didn’t fall asleep now. But soo regretted thinking this.

The sixth night on the trot of being unable to get to sleep. Couldn’t read a book, thanks to cataracts, glaucoma and saccades. Put the TV on but could not hear it or read the subtitles easily. But kept springing awake again, seemingly every five minutes or so. After perhaps twenty jump-awakes on the 21st, I gave up and rose onto my feet for a wee-wee. It was hard work and well gone midnight before I drifted off…

Morning all!

Inchcock: Diary & Ode Sun 29th May 2022

SUNDAY ODE

Advice For Whippersnappers – Part 2⅑th

Do no harm, don’t be lethiferous…
Try to avoid being fatuitous…
Resist acting violent, gratuitous,
If you have a win, it will be deciduous,
Good and bad things can be fortuitous…
You’ll seem at times fatuitous, bodacious,
When in the pub… you’ll appear streperous,
But at work, try to appear assiduous…
To try to cover for your hebetudinous,
Avoid drugs that make you feel somniferous,
Have a drink by all means, but don’t get stocious…
I used to do that, but in the morning, I felt atrocious!
Keep taking Covid-test; you can still be viruliferous!
That way, you can avoid capriciousness…
When you get arrested, do not show facetiousness!
And always remember life’s ephemeralness!

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

SUNDAY 29th MAY 2022

04:45hrs: Notwithstanding only getting three hours kip, I woke up with the usual jolt but feeling a lot perkier than usual. I went all industrial: Wee-wee, then dressed, and I did the medicationalisationing.

The thigh veins looked so very much improved, and I moved on to washing the tootsies, which were also looking much improved, in the bowl on the floor. Neither of them found their way onto the SDH card? That’s a good start, I muttered to missen! Through to the kitchen to make a Glengettie brew and took a couple of snaps of the red sky this morning.

Soon got the computer on to update yesterday’s blog. But of course, the $23 million a year salaried Mr Fries, boss of Liberty-Global, who bought out Virgin Media for $18 billion, still can’t get a signal to Nottingham that even pretends to be reliable.

So, very annoying!

So, I gave up and went to try to take more photographs of the view from the kitchen window. Hopefully, they will be a success this time. Especially as the sky had reddened more now. I must say they looked almost like a couple of water paintings. Bootiful! And they went on the SDH card this time.

I spent a few moments perusing for figures in the clouds, pareidoliaing. I think there was a face in the lower of the photographs? But I could be wrong… I’m very often wrong, you know. It’s a natural gift I have. Glaucoma Gladys, SAccdes Sandra and Cataract Kathie don’t help.

Back onto the internet. I must send Fries a congratulatory email to get a signal through.

WordPress had the same problem as it started yesterday. I cannot access the comments when I’m on editing, My Home or reading? If I click on the question mark, which is not always there, as you see in this snap of the computer screen, I can sometimes get the list up? Fed up with this!

Started to update yesterday’s blog and altered the ode in it, which, on reflection, was not a good idea. I got carried away on Word Hippo to get some new rhymings that were suitable… three hours later… ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chirped from the doorbell. Cheeky Charley came this morning to do me. Lovely chirpy lass, But the poor gal was not her usual self. Not offhand or anything like that, but seemed a little down; bless Her!

As I pressed on with the blog again, a rumbling from the innards had me hastening to the Porcelain Throne. A lot of painful effort was needed to complete the evacuation, and I had a go at the crossword book while waiting. I also spotted that the condition of the feet and lower legs had improved an awful lot this morning? Not complaining, like! Not as messy as yesterday.

The noise from above was barely noticeable. I hope that the disdainful, dismissive lad is not poorly or in pain.

I got around to drinking my first mug of tea of the day, and it was coming up to midday! I had made four mugs of tea, a Glengettie, Thompson’s Punjana, and now a Thompson’s Signature tea. I let go cold all the others – not on purpose, of course. I allowed myself half of my new daily ration of chocolate with the tea, two squares from a block of milk chocolate. Hehe!

I went through h to the kitchenette to wash the mug and found my feet sticking to the floor! I’d spilt some of the chilli-con-carne, I think, earlier when I was prepping Josie’s Sunday nosh. I bravely decided it needed a good sweep and mopping session…

I got the old spinning mop bucket out of the wet room, freshened the round disc mop, and cleaned the floor. On the heavy press pedal as I was spinning it for the first time! Not sure how I managed it, but it shot back up on me, and off came my foot?

Naturally, it didn’t affect me. A man of my heroic nature, cool, calm and concentrated. With a proclivity for remaining composed, unruffled, and in complete control of myself, at all times. I was totally unruffled… Well, erm, maybe…

I checked on Josie’s meal and moved some of the Chilli Con Carne into a plastic bowl so she’d have enough for a second nosh later on.

Then got on with the mopping of the kitchenette floor. I made sure it was well dried, in case I had to go back in urgently to check on the food cooking for any reason… Now that’s something I seem to be getting short of lately… sense! Hehehe!

Sent off the Saturday blog and made a start on this one. Then sorted Josie’s tray out for her.

Some nibbles and a can of G & T. I actually remembered that she gave me that look last week when I gave her a can of… Oh, what was it? Woo-Woo or Mojito, I think. I think I’ll go into a Smug-Mode again… There you are! Hahaha!

I delivered the meal on time again and got an approving look as she inspected the can of G & T. She said she was on the phone with a friend, so I didn’t keep her.

As I entered the flat, I noticed the three waste bags still there laying on the box. Not taken to the chute for me. But it gave me a bit of exercise. I made another one and popped them all into the chute. However…

Coming out of the room, I had a minuscule, short involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance. It only lasted a few seconds, but the timing was not good as I closed the door. Ah, well!

I turned the oven on and got some updating done on this blog. Took a break to make another mug of tea… I’m determined to get one drunk today! Took a distance and close up pictures of the beautiful looking sky.

The zoomed-n shot was not up to much, inferior quality. But taking it, I was sure I’d captured a figure of a face… but no! Tsk!

I had convoluted to get to look and the WordPress comments.

I’ll get my chips in the oven now; they should be hot enough. Sat and nodded for a few minutes, then got up and searched around for the missing magnifying glass, which had not been seen for months, and the mysterious hidden-away somewhere headphones. No luck with either!

Got my nosh sorted out and served up. The new Morrison’s beer-battered chips were not to my liking. A Flavour raring of 6/10 was the most I could give it. All else was okay. Whenceforth, I’ll try to get only the curry-flavoured ones. But they substitute such a lot. Hence the beer battered, which I did not order.

I was just about to nod off after eating what I did of the plateful, and the ♫ Oh, Susana… ♫, the Evening Carer arrived. Got the meds sorted and was off in a flash. Bless her! No waste bags; I took them myself earlier when the morning gal missed taking them.

Bill Ziegler, I like his style of writing and humour. I checked to see if any comments had come in and replied to them. Then Facebook catch-up… a lot had to be done.

Head down in search of sleep… and, importantly, staying asleep! Well, that was a failure…

Inchcock Photographs & Odes: Wed-Thur 26-27th May 2022

WEDNESDAY 26th MAY 2022

Well, the lower legs are looking betterer?

The blood taking hole is standing up well. Hehe!

BP is fine again.

♫ Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain… ♫
♫ Telling me just what a fool I’ve been… ♫

My bad luck, or lack of good fortune, continues!

A simple nosh made for a simpleton,
Who knows not what is a sextillion…
Who passes wind, and creates a septon,
Dementia has made his brain wanton…
Yet had a dream, a hope and a premonition…
One day he’ll write a daily newspaper’s feuilleton,
But he’s too old now, this bald, retarded Briton…
He still cooks, nowt fancy like venison or a wonton,

I’ve waffled again, then again, and so did Byron?
I’ll try summat daring – like eating a persimmon!
I’m mentally decaying, needing a psychosurgeon?
Desperate to be seen by a neurosurgeon…
To be honest, I’d take from any chirurgeon!
Even if it helped just as smidgeon…
To slow down my deteriorating condition!

Evening carer has been, all shattered, but mentally okay,
Of course, there was no chance of it staying this way…
Control of my grey-cells thinking seems so far away…
No matter what I try, the confusion’s here to stay…
Of course, I’ve tried for help; I often pray,
But there’s no chance of improvement, I daresay…
Just have to hope tomorrow is a better day…

Lost the plot on this Ode; I don’t need to be told,
My mind refuses to be controlled…
I’ve no virtues of being extolled…
I’m not feeling very bold…
Problems that need to be resolved?
Why has my good-luck gland never evolved?
Why have I never won a gold?
No wonder my hopes have dissolved!

You may think this diary is so short on content and reckon I’d lost the reminder pad, and I spent hours searching for it and couldn’t find it anywhere? Panicked and faffed about, stubbing my toe and using naughty language as I built up my hatred for Vascular Dementia Doreen?

This guesstimate or thought would be Spot-On!

THURSDAY 26th MAY 2022

Cor blimey, and luv-a-duck! What a fantastic kip I had last night! I reckon I’d had about seven uninterrupted hours with Sweet Morpheus! I stirred back into pretending life around 0535hrs.

Of course, with not getting up repeatedly for a wee-wee, I was in a desperate need within seconds of waking up. The trip to the bucket was interrupted by a new requirement – the Porcelain Throne.

The lower back pain kicked off as I turned with metal Mickey in hand to divert to the wet room. In the hallway, dang it! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters came back online, and the leg flailed… straight into the edge of the doorframe, acquiring a rather nasty toe-stubbing to add to my slowly increasing collections of morning pains!

And what a messy session it turned out to be! Despite waiting many minutes for the motion to start and having a failed attempt at getting any clues answered on the crossword that I’ve now been doing on the throne for over a week, there were no indications of any progress. So, I started counting the new veins that had come upon the leg. Having worked out that only two new ones had come up and felt for sure at least five had gone down, I was considering going into a Smug-Mode…

Then, the… well, an explosion is the only word to describe it – the evacuated product burst out in some haste, and I could feel the splashes rebounding back up to my bottom and gentleman’s tackle storage area. What a mess the Throne and I ended up in! So, I set to cleaning and freshening things and me up in the wet room. I was caught out, right and proper, by Trotsky Terence’s reappearance after a few days. Humph!

All spick and span again, and feeling a smidgeon proud of how I handled the unfortunate evacuation, I departed the wet room on my way to treat myself to a mug of tea. And clouted my shoulder on the doorframe, setting Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off jigging all over the place in her effort to dislodge the shoulder bone, I think!

MedPhorpainNeedless to say, I was a little pee’d off now. I took a painkiller with the tea and rubbed some Phorpain Gel well into Shirley’s shoulder where I could reach. I felt sorry for myself, and I reflected on who was really to blame. Doreen’s Dementia, Nichodemuses Neurotransmitter, Neuropathy Pete, Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys, and me! So many options came to mind that I decided all of these were at fault or the causes of my morning’s dilemmas.

I took a snap of the view from the kitchen window. Although it may have been from yesterday now, I think of it. Dementia Doreen is not easy to live with.

I got on the computer to finalise and post the local News Snippets blog. I pressed on regardless, and I lost a lot of time changing the central Ode. Why? I forget why I thought it was a good idea. The original and one I ended posting were both crap, anyway! But then, I’m good at crap. Consistently, I reliably churn it out.

I went to make another brew, determined to get this one drunk! The red sky reminded me of the old saying, “Red Sky at Night, Shepherds delight!” By the time I’d taken the pictures, the red sky had gone.

When I checked the photos on the camera, I was not impressed at all. But of course, with Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades Sandra lingering, what would I know. Hehehe!

Ah, when I got these on later, they looked so different in the Preview window than on this editor that I’m using.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and in came two carers. They were not listening types; both were supervisory. It is my fault for talking to them when they sorted out the paperwork. I must stop doing that!

I went into the balcony, opened the end window, and took this shot of the Chestnut Way end car park… Trapping my finger in the spring lock as I close the window afterwards. Tsk!

I’d anticipated Richard coming today. My grasp on actuality had gone away. One of them had returned to the fold, and I was ready to listen to my tale of the potato husks that I’d left in the oven for eight hours overnight. I’d kept them to show to Richard, but they got a laugh out these gals when I showed them to them. Haha!

I got on with the updating and posted it to WordPress. Had a while on Facebook Catchup. Then made a start on the first Ode for this one.

Blimus! It was gone midday in no time!

I must get the WP comments to read and answer. Then I read the WordPress Reader new blogs and commented on them.

The Evening Carer will be due soon, Valerie, I hope. I’m going to get my wash and change into the night attire now, TTFNski. The ankles were a bit blotchy again? The INR being high?

A can of the veg chilli-con-carne, baked some chunked potatoes, last of the Milk Roll bread, and a pot of weak watery Morrison’s Honey flavoured yoghourt. I enjoyed it. Taste Rating: 7/10.

Arrived after I’d washed the pots up. Forget the Carer’s name again, nice gal.

I got down to kip, but the notable changes in the evening sky forced me to keep getting up to take photographs of the views. I’ll put them on Friday’s blog; hopefully, the SD reader will be working better then.

Sleep was a long time in coming. But that was my fault for me keeping getting up several times to photograph the changing sky.

Ode To Hope

Every time I think things may improve, I suffer a forfeiture,
For being foolish enough to be a self-deluder?
Of course, existence will just get crappier,
Anyway, if things went right, would I be happier?
Good fortune for me; it would be so unfamiliar…
No doubt it would make me feel guilty and peculiar?
I’d probably go into shock and have a stroke or seizure…
Not to worry, I’ll take my tablets and a gulp of tincture!

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock Diary, Tuesday 24th May 2022 – With Ode to Life

TUESDAY 24th MAY 2022

Ode To Life – Part 33rds

I’d have loved to have written my verse cleverly…
Be intelligent, superior, educated, and academically!
Blend words in rhyme that folk view as appreciatory,
But Doreen’s Dementia makes me do it clumsily…
Not that the comments sound exactly derogatory…
My viewers’ total is abysmal, or worse, evidently,

I try not to write this blog grouchily…
Make it fun, folks, to read it happily…
I may, at times, add things that sound grumpy,
That’ll be of Doreen and Peripheral Neuropathy,
Though sometimes, to me, the reality is illusory…
And I’ve never ever won the lottery!

Like now, my plots and thoughts have gone hazy?
This can happen for days at a time, not momentarily,
Semi-logic can return, within a few days, ordinarily,
But of course, please remember this is not obligatory,
During my brain’s down-times, there’s still diversity…
Trying to control it brings much lachrymosity!

I often dream of acquiring omnipotency…
Of course, I can’t, so carry in my impecuniosity…
It’s not just money & wealth, of which I have a scarcity!
But also suasion, wisdom, rationality, logicality…
Folks tell me, I have endless inconsequentiality?
I think this is similar to insignificance or banality?
No doubt, I need help mentally… and exigently!

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

TUESDAY MORNING

04:35: Rose for a wee-wee. Kettle on, sorted waste bags. Had a rinse, got partly dressed, and got the kettle on.

Getting dressed, I thought it looked like the right leg’s foot was darker than the left leg? But mustn’t complain, cause the rest of the leg and ankle looked far better than yesterday!

Took off the pad from yesterday’s INR Warfarin blood test and could not help bus picture my beautiful, precious, and pretty beloved Haematology nurse Hristina in my mind! ♥

Sphygmomanometerisationing was done next. The SYS was up 26 points to 140, DIA up by 2 to 63, and the Pulse had fallen somewhat to 77. Checked on the NHS site; The Ideal is between 60 and 100 beats per minute (bpm). That means it must have been high spot on, indeed perfect, for several weeks. The body temperature was well down again, low for several days; according to the NHS, 35°c is the optimum?

I got on the computer, and my brain froze. What I was doing, I had no idea, really. This has happened now and then since the stroke. It can often last for a few hours, like waking up, but with no memory of the period of blankness. I named them Mind-Blanks. Then you worry about what you’ve been getting up to! It only lasted about an hour or so, I think. It seemed that I had started another blog template and been working on the wrong one. I really got annoyed when I discovered this! I swore at myself, and I wanted to give up!

Richard the Carer arrived, and it helped pull me around. Not that I wasn’t still a little miffed ant the Mind-Blank happening. Even though it hasn’t happened for a week or two. I think? Rich’ got the Alert Alarm battery checked and gave me my medications. As we had a much-missed chinwagging session, I went to put the mini-hoover back on its charger and…

As I was bent down to reach the socket, Neuropathy Pete instructed his neurotransmitters to give me a flailing leg dance! I dropped the mini-hoover (I hope I’ve not broken anything), and I clung dearly to the electric shelf. It was all over within a few minutes, and no rumblings or injuries. That was due to Carer Richard’s quick response in getting to me in time. I’m pretty sure (although it was a short affair, it was brutal while it lasted) that it would have had me over had I been on my own.

Two cameras, a remote, and the SDH card reader have given up on me in the last few days. Mind-Blanks, Leg Dances, Dizzies, Falls and tumbles are getting more frequent. Doreen’s Dementia, Cataracts Kathleen, and Glaucoma Gladys have all been having a go at me!  Best if I say no more on the subject, methinks!

Took this snap of the rain, made a brew, and pressed on, trying to get the mess I’d made on WordPress understood and corrected; it was hard work that needed concentration. But, it went well for about two hours, progress-wise, and then Esther came bundling in to get the laundry. That shot my attention to pieces.

I began to make progress again. Esther returned with the laundry. Boy, can she talk? Hehe! Unfortunately, she does it when walking away from me and in the other room. Not the foggiest of what she’s saying half the time.

Well, I’ve got to get a rest. I’ll make some canned tomatoes and soya and use the old bread. After that, I can envisage myself just falling asleep until the evening carer wakes me up… there are about four hours in which I can make, eat the meal and some precious sleep… if that is possible.

Extra-chopped tomatoes with pieces of soya. And some slices of milk roll bread… well, half the loaf! Gobbled it up at my leisure slowly and enjoyed it. The Flavour rating for this one was 7.5/10! Washed the pots and was soon in the land of nod. Dream filled, though. No details are recalled, yet I still know that I had dreams?

An hour or so later, Evening Care Valerie arrived, and the shock of the chime bursting out and waking me shook me a bit… at first, I thought I was still in my dream. Hehehe! As I stirred and Valerie came, I realised that although I had got my jammie bottoms on, I was topless this time. Still, she didn’t mind my bulbous, adipose, abdominous, podgy paunch that bounced around in front of me when I stood up. Humph! Val got me sorted out, and I handed her some nibbles in thanks, and off she trotted, kindly taking the waste bag from the door with her for me.

I considered staying up to get on with this blog, but with all the cock-ups and mistakes I’d made earlier in the day, I decided to get back down in the c1968 second-hand recliner and get back to whatever the dream was about. And I did!

Ten minutes later, ♫Oh, Susana♫ rang from the door chime again. I whipped a jacket on quickly and went to open the door – It was Valerie back again.

She had gone back to the Meridian Office and found a letter from the DVT Anticoagulation Clinic changing the Warfarin dosages. Bless her, she realised she’d just given me the wrong dosage earlier and returned to give me more to agree with the new dosage roster. This should have been provided by whoever was in charge (surely?) to the night carer? But it had been left on the desk. Fortunately, the new dosages had increased, and Valerie gave me the extra tablet to put things right for me.

The thought was that had Val not found this new rota or the doses had gone down, not up, it would have been too late, and it meant I could be in a pickle medically if I had a bleed and an increased risk of a heart attack, blood-clot, and or stroke. Methinks Meridian, who has just put their prices up, has made a mistake. Be interesting to see if I get an apology this time. Valerie saved the day, anyway!

EMBARRASSMENT! As I was taking the Warfarin tablet, it dawned on me – I did not have my jammie bottoms on! I red-facedly thanked Val, and she shot off, Bless her cotton socks!

Back in the recliner…

Inchcocks Diary (Curtailed), for Fri-Saturday

First, a few words to explain why this blog is as pathetic as it is

❶ I’ve lost so much time with Liberty-Global Virgin Media going down, I lost count of how many times in the last two days!

❷ Then, today (Saturday), Facebook started doing the same thing!

❸ I took a tumble on Friday, which left me with the shakes.

❹ The eyes seem worse today; it’s a struggle.

❺ Shaking, Shaun returned.

❻ Eyesight still poor

FRIDAY 20th MAY

Good morning; I didn’t do this blog until Saturday evening. There are very few memory notes on the pad and not many photos to help the grey cells out. Facebook was going off again so often, and Liberty-Global – Virgin Media. So this is not going to be very erudite… not that it ever was. There will no doubt be some guesstimating and missed events.

Up at 01:30hrs to get the previous day’s blog completed. WP Reading. Comments, and I pressed on for hours to get the blog done and posted. Facebooked until it, and Liberty-Global Virgin was going down so often, I gave up. Try to catch up later.

Carer Valerie called, and I had the shakes at the time, which worried her a bit; bless her. I was still a bit unsteady when the Morrison delivery arrived, but when he left the packages in the doorway and had scooted, I started to come round nicely. I took some photos while I got the things away.

Still, the fridge didn’t look overfull to me? Could it be the eyes? Or a ghost coming into the flat and eating my stuff while I slept? I put it down to the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, or ectoplasms, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? I sorted things out but could sense, no idea how, but this happens sometimes, a feeling that either an involuntary right-leg, Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was on the way and building up in preparation. It was a tingling sensation up and down my right side, where the stroke affected me. Huh! I decided to take as much care as possible to ensure there would be no ending up on the floor again today!

Herbert kicked off with the clattering, seemingly forever dropping things, drills, hammers, and meal boxes… Humph!

Arrived, I was not too good, and she noticed it. Said I was looking sweaty and pale, bless her.

Ablutions, then blogging away, making little progress. The computer went off again, so I made a meal; I can’t really remember if it was this one or not.

I recall going in the wet room, but I must have had a funny turn cause if I’d worked it out right, I was in there for an hour or maybe fell asleep on the Throne?

I had no idea who the evening caller was; I wasn’t even sure one had called… no… one did… I reckon. Shakes bad.

At it again. Clunk-thudding it.

Ah, I think it was Carer Cheeky Charlie who called on me, but… maybe not.

Got to sleep easier tonight, but the jumping awake was annoying.

SATURDAY 21st MAY

Gave up trying to sleep and rose around 01:30hrs.

Worked on blogging, no washing. Did my best.

Serene Sarah, I’m sure. Or Cheeky Charlie, was it? Both are lovely gals.

After she’d gone, I went to use the Throne. I was doing alright, had a wash while in the wet room, and as I turned towards the door, I had an involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance! I hit the wall and slid to the floor, and made a bruising contact with the floor in no time! It had to come; I expected this yesterday. Minutes afterwards, the lower back pain started and still has not stopped. I’ll see it goes, but I may call the NHS 111 number if I am forced to seek assistance. I won’t do it now cause the pain may ease off as time goes on. I’m such a hero… Hehehe! I’ve been a little wobbly on the legs since the Accifauxpas.

I’ve been a bit unlucky this week. The 40 bus did not stop to pick us up at the bus stop. The tumbles and knocks this week. Walked into doorframes, dropped a bowl of potatoes and cheese, burnt my hand, and slipped off of kerb hobbling up Winchester Street… so, everything is normal there then.

At it again. Clunk-thudding.

The Carer is due anytime now. Got a wash and got into the jammies. Then remembered the potatoes I’d put in the slow-cooker 13 hours ago… Mild Panic Mode Engaged, and shot off to check on things in the kitchen…

As I was getting them out of the pot with tongues, I got a hickey as I caught my little finger in the gripper. Oh, heckithump! Not only were they too soft, each one had blackies on the inside when I sliced them, So they are even looser now.

Carer Valerie arrived and asked me if I needed any help with the spuds. I declined her offer but thanked her. She got the tablets given to me and went on her way, taking the waste bags with her. ♥

I got back to the now lesser-blackeyed potatoes I’d sliced, and put them in the oven, to hopefully crisp them up a smidge. Got some tomatoes o the plate ready and two slices of imitation pork. But…

I cast my mind back to when I had to cook and clean for Dad. I’d got no bread, well I had, but it was in the freezer. So I got a few slices out, put them in an empty saucepan with the garden peas, and hoped they would thaw out before I needed them. No freeze, no fridge, no hot water other than what we boiled on the fire and stove, and no electricity (but we did get it later). Easy peasy when we got DC electricity fitted, gone were the candles… and damned good riddance! How the hell did I manage?

I checked on the potatoes, now sliced and in the oven. The sun was beginning to go down, and I took a few minutes pareidoliaing at the cloud formations. II thought I saw a mouth and lips or an imitation black hole that was white. Hehehe!

Got the fodder served up. The slow cooker and sliced and oven-baked potatoes were terrible, possibly my worst effort in years. But everything else was fine and tasty. Taste: 6.5/10.

Off for a wee-wee and had another figure-finding session at the kitchenette window’s clouds. Sadly, no pictures or visions were seen in the clouds this time. Although looking at them now (Sunday morning), I think I spot a monster in there flying?

As I searched for Sweet Morpheus, Herbert gave me a last short mechanical serenade with a whirling, whining sound to round off, decrescendo style. Possibly, an underpowered drill chugging? I mentally wished the aloof Laodicean a good night.

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock Today: Diary, Dream, Esccape & Ode

Thursday 19th May 2022

Woke at 04:20, and I rose from the recliner at 05:00hrs. Why the time gap? Cause I was getting memories of a dream I’d had written on the memory pad to put on here. Wee-wee, and onto the computer.

THE DREAM…

Everyone in the flats got a text message; no more new tenants were allowed in the apartments. In five years, whoever is left will be transferred into wooden bungalows on the grounds of the City Hospital. I was looking forward to living long enough and moving.

The social room at Winwood Court was converted into a pool room with about twelve tables. We all had to compete, and those with the highest scores would get the first choice of wooden cabins to move into. I was told by a Nottingham City Homes manager, “So? I pointed out that I was colour-blind and had cataracts, glaucoma, and saccades. Roger’s only got one hand, and Ethel is as blind as a bat… anyone considered not social enough will be sent to live in the Salvation Army Hostel. So let’s see some willingness and effort!” I apologised.

Blurry memories then, involving a ski slope, toolboxes, and a day trip out on buses for all of us to Skegness. Ethel and I caught the train home after leaving us behind.

On the day of the move, we all set off walking the mile and a bit with guards and Carers. We advanced in single file and long line, all with suitcases, wheelies, etc. Most of us got lost on the City Grounds. Well, I did. Then after finding the others, I was sent to a Bed & Breakfast place in Newcastle. They booked me a train for midnight.

I was sleeping in a corridor, and someone woke me. Somehow or other, I was in the final of the pool competition, and I didn’t win a single game in the qualifying stages? I don’t recall playing this match at all?

Suddenly, many of us were walking back out of the City Hospital grounds, same again, guards, staff, single file. We walked through a Council House Estate, but I had no idea where we were going and why. But I ended up in a coal cellar… Then shot awake!

I went to make a brew of JS Extra Strong… and clouted my right knee against the cabinet corner. Made the brew and left it to stew. Then needed to use the Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence was losing his grip a little on the evacuation. So, much less time was wasted on cleaning up.

I took an early morning shot of the view from the kitchen window.

I’m hoping that the JS food delivery will be early, and they will deliver the flowers for Jillie.

So, it will leave me plenty of time to get things ready to get down to Jillie’s house with the flowers, bank, and shopping at the Ozan store. I’m hoping they have some of the Herb veg pork in stock and have a nosey around for any other delights that may take my fancy. Hehehe! Apart from Jillie! 💙

Hello! 

Richard arrived, handing me an SD card I could have, damned decent of him, bless him. He had another call, so again could not stay for a chinwag, but I appreciated his generosity. He should be back again the following Monday.

The Sainsbury delivery arrived. Thanks to tp the incompetency of Money-Mad Fries, the $23 million a year boss at Liberty Global, I had no distractions from the no-signal internet on the computer. So I got on with sorting the things delivered out to storage.

As you can see here on the left, fresh foods are topped up and a couple of treats. But they have sent pork pate with pork, not the vegetarian, so that will have to be found a home. There is plenty of date on it, so maybe Richard can have it on Monday. Also, and as well, and besides: Three items short out of stock, but to avoid getting substitutes, like shoe polish for waffles, I ticked the ‘Do Not Substitute’ Button… Cunning? After packing things away, the fridge didn’t look overfull? Had I missed something? Bags of room in the refrigerator still. Have I lost a load of nosh or something? I pondered… I have been known to do this several times a day! Then realised, no yoghourts, no cakes and no leeks, I’ll make an order for Morrisons later.

Not the same story with the freezer, mind you. Well, cram-packed, that is. In fact, I’ve got freeze burns and bruises on my fingers as I fumbled about taking stuff out and rearranging things to make more room for the new stuff squashed and levered and bashed food into the drawers. I felt a smidge smug after sorting it all out! Hehe!

I made the order for Morrisons for Sunday. By which time there should be a little more room. I called Jillie to see which flowers she would prefer, and the gal opted for the roses; nothing romantic was involved in that, I’m too old, and she is too beautiful. But I still love her.

Off to get ablutions. No rush; I think I can take my time and still catch the 10:30hr bus down the hill. I’m not joking here: Harolds’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were not bleeding! No bleeding, shaving, nasal clearing or teeth cleaning! Honestly!

These are never pain-free, as you would expect. But nothing was extreme pain-wise; even ointmentating the lesion had an acceptable Argh-Level!

Fair enough, poor old right-knee Arthur Itis and Cathleen Cartilage came off painfully when I was leaving after doing the medicating when an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about proper leg dance kicked off. I hit my knee on the door frame. I recall being even more annoyed than usual cause everything had gone so well in the session. Got dressed and checked the items needed, and I set off…

THE TRIP OUT!

I put the rebagged flowers in the trolley walker in carrier bags, with some plonk for the Wardens and Jillie. Out, locked the door, in the lift, along the link corridor into Winwood Court, to the Wardens Holding-Cell Offices. Haha! Dropped the Alstroemeria Bouquet for Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion, Warden Julie, and Desktop Dancer and Obersturmbannfuhreress Warden Dean this week. Wished the gals well and out to the bus stop… this was unbelievable!…

I arrived at the bus with almost perfect timing. Four other tenants, who I greeted, were at the bus shelter. I was standing near the kerbside with my bus pass in hand… The 40 Bus sped into and around the turning island… and ignored us all, didn’t slow down an iota, – and he sped back out again? The folks were livid! Shaking fists at the departing bus, shouting, swearing… I think this may have annoyed them somewhat!

I set off wobbling along with the walker-guide trolley. I couldn’t get annoyed with the bus driver until I found out why leaving us. He may well have just got a message on the RT about a family member taking ill? I set off down Winchester Street towards Jillie’s house at the bottom of the road on the left. The right knee caused me some discomfort en route, but knowing I was just about to meet Jillie eased things considerably. Hehe! ♥

I took my time and got to her door. It was a pleasure to see her smiling face as she helped me up the steps with the trolley. I handed her the roses, and I got a kiss for them and the plonk. She was working on and off in the other room. She made me comfy in a chair and put cushions around me – yer can’t ask for better treatment!

We had some chinwags, and later, she signed off work on her computer to go with me to the cashpoint and shop. What an angel!

As we were waiting to cross over to the bank, Jillie said: There’s a cashpoint at Ozan’s shop. Let’s go there. So we did! She helped me back down the steps, and we chinwagged on the short trip to the bank machine.

It was terrific shopping with Jillie. She looked after me like she would a grandfather; I thought of her as a daughter. She dealt with staff for me cause she knows my hearing problems, and I got some vegetarian and pork meats, amongst other items. We walked back up Winchester Street, where her house was, hugged, and departed. She left me at the bus stop, bless her cotton socks.

I’d just missed a bus, so I decided to walk carefully up the hill, taking some photographs en route.

Halfway up Winchester Street Hill, the clouds caught my eye again, and I took this snap on the right. It came out rather artistically? Well, maybe not, then. Getting towards where the road changes name. To the right, it becomes Mapperley Rise, and to the left, at the building you see, it continues as Winchester Street. I think years ago it led to the railway station, now gone! In fact, the flats were built on the site!

As I turned onto Chestnut Way, where Winwood Heights are, I noted on the verge the usual Nottingham collection of rubbish, and amidst the fag packets, sweet wrappers, empty bottles, chewing gum, thrown away cans and contraceptives, the flowers that always amaze me more than any other. The determined daisies. So pretty and yet simple. The blue can, maggots coming out of it? Hehehe! What’s this, alcoholic maggots and meat flies?

I crossed over Chestnut Way, passing the bus stop that people get abandoned at, Haha!). I knocked on the Warden’s office to report the bus, but I think they were on break, so I continued through the link corridor on my way. Not a soul in sight; it was oddly eerie until a man and woman came in the opposite direction, we exchanged pleasantries between us, and I went to the swipe door at the end.

The area built for mobile and disabled scooter storage is where the power points are located.

Then, on to the lifts in Woodthorpe Court.

Still nobody about. I pressed for the 12th-floor. (Well, it seemed a good idea as I live on the 12th, Haha! I can still be quick sometimes! Not physically, mind, my days of bungee jumping are over! I can’t see (Cataracts, Glaucoma and Saccades, Haha!) myself playing snooker, squash, or even the barrel organ again? I’ve not got a lot of hope of doing the Hokey Cokey!

I got through the inner lobby doors, wiping the blood off the wall after trapping my knuckle in the door as I fought to stop the wheelie-walker from going over.

Then whilst I was struggling through the apartment door with the wheelie-guide, I knocked the waste bags off the box, and one split open! Why do I bother?

Got it cleaned up and sorted. Put the trolley in the corner, brakes on, turned to go through to the kitchen with a little bag of nosh, and knocked nearly all of the clothes hanging on the hooks off onto the floor as Dizzy Dennis paid a visit!

I got the mock ham, sandwich fillers, and soft cheese portions. Ready to make the nosh later… Oh, and the bottle of Oyster sauce. I’ve never tried that before, and Jillie warned me not to use it a lot.

Then it was concentrating on getting this blog done. I spent four hours on it, and the evening carer arrived; it was Cheeky Charley, so pleased to see her; she’s not been for a week or two now.

Did some more blogging and then on to Facebooking catch-up.

Lovely day for me; seeing Jillie was the highlight. But walking down and up the hill had done me in. I’ll get some fodder and sleep, I hope. Finish this off in the morning… again, I hope. I wash, stripped off, and down to kip! Haha!

Friday AM, 01:30hrs. I’m back. Wee-wee and on the computer.

Uploaded the nosh picture and car park ones from yesterday. The first car park one showed a lack of RVM vans on the hatched no parking area and the small red car in RVM’s spot. RVM had parked at the back in a proper car parking space. Curious! Hehe!

The sourdough sarnies, veggie sausages and meat, cheese twist, yellow tomatoes, banana and mini vegan orange flavoured cake made up the evening meal. A Taste Rating of 7/10.

😴 Ode to Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit 😴

No Mortal is at all hours wise: to those giving generously,
R.A.O.B., Military, Masonry, things like them, you see?
GLE, GLC, folks who generally live life benevolently,
And many others working for a charity,
Does this ode verse lack a certain clarity?

This Ode, maybe a smidge short on facticity,
I always wanted to join brainy clericity,
But I was too thick and brain dead; that was a pity,
No education for me; I survived using astucity,
I shouldn’t be writing about this; I lack profundity!

Did my best in school but lacked the perspicuity…
Never got near to showing any sagacity…
Not guilty of showing financial rapacity…
For being bullied, being a coward, I’d got the capacity…
I’d have had a better life if I’d shown more pugnacity,

To others, I seem to confuse with abstrusity…
I’ve tried to retain unquestionable veracity, honesty,
Yet always a victim of con men and predacity…
I also try to avoid showing spite or mordacity,
I was born with certain appendages of great paucity!

I strove to avoid doing the devil’s work, infelicity…
Unfortunately, with a high level of inefficacity!
Always the victim, gullible, with incredible credulity,
My brain showing sporadic moments of reality…
But riddled throughout with psychoactivity!

Mornin’ all!

Inchcock Today Wednesday 18th May 2022: Dairy

Wednesday, 18th May 2022

Ode To Depression

This morning, my depression turned to contemplation,
First, a few moments of deep retrospection,
What ifs, maybes and with some reprehension…
With mixed feelings, I recalled Thatcherisation,
A spirit that shocked and scared the whole nation,
Can’t keep his pants on John Major, constipation!
Tony Blair, liar, self-advancer and chancer… revulsion!
Gordon Brown, debt maker, indeed, no statistician,
Runaway Etonian, smug, arrogant but shit… Cameron,

Theresa May, Grenfell Fire, Tory Council, on the next day,
Lessons from the fire would be learned, she did say…
Visited the aftermath and was chased away!
Kensington & Chelsea London Borough Council, well they…
… are responsible, but Tories: So, no prosecutions to this day!

Guilt, self-blame, and self-recrimination led to self-expostulation,
Whatever came to mind led me to self-recrimination…
Black depression, I’d lost control and rationalisation…
I needed a bit of luck… to regain my motivation…
Eventually, I settled for acceptance of insanity and self-irrision!
It seems my life will never get any moments that are ambrosian,
Then again, there’s is there ever any justification…

But no! I shall fight this darkness by being conciliatory,
Apart from the ailment, deafness, and cataract, I can see…
Most of the other problems are down to my past stupidity!
The guilt should be expected and accepted, you see…
Bad choices, and decisions, are coming back to haunt me!
So how do I fight them off to get my mind guilt-free?
I just have to sulk and take the blame compliantly!

I found when reading this that it flows with duplexity…
My rambling thoughts get entangled, incipiently…
Reviewing failures is a wise thing, necessitously…
I’ve so many ailments and faults characteristically,
And a stomach that bulges grows, excrescently!
I struggle through each day rather incompetently,
Thought storms and depressions are just an inevitability!
This does not stop me from wanting happiness, such a pity!

Inchcock is now out of his Dracula Depression,
The main reason was his guilt; he now shows contrition…
The reasons for this, there’s a combination…
Well, several really, starting with his visit to the fridge,
He found some mushroom pate, just a smidge…
Not a common pate; this one had caramelisation!
With chips in his freezer, this eased his deprivation!
Chips, pate, tomatoes for his palettes delectation…
He loves his comfort food, and that’s no exaggeration,
He now accepts his loneliness and being Godforsaken…
First, though, this blog to do; he also loves his scriptitations!

Diary

Due to my taking so long to do the ode, a shortened version. Sorry!

After falling asleep early last night, I sprang awake at 01:30hrs. Wee-wee, wash, wee-wee.

Sorted out a waste bag or two, passed wind, and shot to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne – Trotsky Terence controlled – Messy! Decided to get the ablutions done. A lot of cleaning was already needed after the almost liquid evacuations.

Got the computer on. I loaded pictures from yesterday.

Latest local Covid figures.

I’m assuming Tuesday night, a meal from earlier, not positive as to which day it was on. But Dementia Doreen is not letting me access the old memory easily at this moment. She is a bugger!

Getting back into the room after ablutionalisationing. The legs, ankles and feet were looking a  little less battered about. But Arthur Itis and Cathy’s Cartilage were giving me some sticks.

Carer Richard arrived. Looking well done in after his shift. He said he had another call to make, so he could not stop for a decent natter. But still gave me a few minutes, bless him.

Herbert kept me company over the next couple of hours as I started updating yesterday’s blog. Got it finished as Herberts stopped his banging and clanging. Which was nice not to hear.

I took a break, and hobbled around the flat, did the belated balance exercises, and did a bit of bending, but this routine was restricted by Cathy and Arthur Itis. But no Dizzy Dennis visits yet. Yehaa!

Facebooked on TFZ and Winwood Heights pages. Did some WordPress Reading, then Comments reading and answered. Computing again, I Finished and posted the blog.

Made a start on the ode for this blog. The ideas were coming so fast I could hardly type them fast enough… thus it took me hours and hours to get it finished, and a multitude of errors had to be corrected.

Herbert gave me good hours of bangs, scraping noises, tap-tapping, and finishing his concert with a proper crunch-thud. Silence after that? I hope the haughty, snobby, pompous gentleman has not injured himself and is not lying up there, bleeding in agony.

I put the computer in sleep mode, rose from the swivel chair, and went into the balcony to have a moment’s peace. Took the Canon camera with me and shot the end car park

RVM, the Red-Van-Man van, had parked even further into the yellow chevron No Parking Zone. Still, it is not too important an issue with all the murders, prison escapes, stabbings, and children being mauled and killed by dogs.

I pressed on with the blog, but tiredness overcame me. It does that occasionally, I’ve noticed!

I called my Precious Jillie (Ex Carer) to see if she’ll be in tomorrow, and I can drop off the flowers for her. (Assuming that J Sainsbury’s delivers them and not a block of lard as one of their famous substitutes!) Luckily she agreed. So on the way down to get some cash from the hole in the wall.

I can pop them into Jill’s home, go to the bank, and then Ozan, the Continental Shop, for their delicious vegetarian beef, sausages and sourdough bread (Not on order from JS). No doubt some other bits that will catch my eye.

I turned off the computer, planning to get my meal, head down, and wake alter to complete the blog-finishing mission.

I got the nosh prepped and served up. Potato fries, finely crushed tomatoes, veggie bacon, and a pot of the delicious instant mash with veg sausage bits and a gravy flavour. Not a mixture one would usually have, but I was tired, confused, and a smidge fed-up at the time. But it tasted okay, and I ate most of it. Taste Rating: 7/10.

Stripped and washed, I got down in the £300 second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working recliner, underneath a blanket. Determined to get to sleep…

On the verge of nodding off, I realised I was naked, and the Carer was due in about an hour… So, not wanting to make the mistake of greeting a Carer with no trousers on again, I got some jammie bottoms, and a t-shirt on, about to get back down in the chair, and needed a wee-wee rather urgently, and made my way to the bucket…

I stubbed my toe on the wheel of the recliner as I lost my balance… banged my already painful Arthur Itis and Cathy Cartilage patella on the arm of the chair, swore, nearly pee’d myself but got there in time… had a somewhat sad wee-wee, and emptied the now nearly-full NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), washed and disinfected it.

Eventually, I got resettled in the recliner. Once again, on the verge of drifting off to sleep… and ♫Oh, Susana♫ chimed from the doorbell, and Carer Valerie came in. I was not entirely with it, but she got me sorted, and unknown to me at the time, she washed meal things for me. Bless her!

Gave up, got up, and got back on the Computer. Sleep had been taken of of my agenda now. I turned the TV on to watch a Heartbeat episode, nodded, and missed the last ten minutes.

I cheered up a bit when the Card Reader started working again, and I got this photographicalisation that I took earlier of semi-puffer clouds. Tsk! I thought I saw a claw, but I can’t find it now.

It is now just gone midnight. And I’ll post this off and try again to get some sleep, Sweet Morpheus permitting, of course.

Inchcock Today: Ode & Diary – Saturday 15 May 2022

Approached creating this ode quite guiltily…
My ideas for it were whimsical, bonkers, delusionary…
I pressed on all the same, but involuntarily…
For Alto-Inchy was taking the piss at me,
If it comes out passable, I’ll have to be lucky…
So, I hope to avoid getting any vilipendency!
Will it get boos? Or be received gladly?
Here I go… I’ll have to wait and see…

Last night’s Porcelain Throne visit showed sanguinolency,
I had to clean things quickly, with no time to dilly-dally.
Cleaned, medicated the fungal lesion, piles, cuts, that’s three…
Pain, medicating the lesion send me cranky,
And Harold’s Haemorrhoids too, it took me a while,
Good job that I’ve got many a mans-nappie!

It’s Alto Inchie writing this verse; Inchcock did insist!
But, things got nasty for Inchy, the lyricist…
Stubbed his toe and started to update his word list…
He spent many hours on it, needed a wee, but had to desist…
Went to hit the save icon, and I missed…
Lost the file, and he sank to his saddest…
He almost cried; it must have been hard to resist…
Then he sank further and got depressed!

I lost six hours trying to get back my lost writing…
Couldn’t find it; I was confused, lost and dithering,
My previous determination started withering…
Duodenal Donald kicked off; it was appalling,
The whole incident was depressing and galling!
I believe that I was so low, beyond consoling…
I wondered, what’s the next thing that’ll need bungling?

Alto Again: It was sad to see Inchy being nigglier,
His computer works are getting much messier…
He didn’t look well. He seemed to me pastier…
The outlook for him to finish this ode is murkier,
And even he’s not usually a shirker, but a worker…
I can see in his eyes that he’s getting lower…
No point in talking to him until he feels betterer,
Hello, his door chimes rang out, in came a Carer…
He turned sourly around to see who it was, looking peakier,
His face lit up, his smile radiated, for it was Carer Sarah!
I could tell that he’d immediately got feeling friskier!

It was Carer Sarah who came to do me today,
This cheered me up, I have to say…
I lost all signs of acting acidulously…
Lovely gal, pretty and chatty,
I began to feel once again, altruistically,
I hope she comes again on Sunday!

Alto: Inchie knackered his computer and got in a shaking panic,
The idiot’s actions and bungled repairs were catastrophic,
He had trouble concentrating and was mnemic…
His moods all day were somewhat chameleonic.
Inchcock’s plans and thoughts were all semantic…
Yet he seemed to be taking it all phlegmatic…
In fact, he ended up feeling somewhat apathetic?
Then he found his legs had gone all phlebitic!
This is why some folks, quite rightly, consider him pilgarlic!.

Diary Saturday 14th May 2022

05:00hrs: I woke up with my bum half off of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner. The right leg on the floor, the left one on the arm of the recliner? A position that I could not physically get into on my own, even if someone offered me a million pounds to do it? Painfully I got my bum back up on the cushion, then tackled the left leg retrieval task! Have you seen that programme on the telly Truck Hell, where they have to retrieve HGVs after a crash? That’s like the task I had on.

I got it freed and the foot down on terra firma. Hehehe! It took me half an hour to achieve it.

Then, I noticed the right leg only had suffered a vein explosion. The first photo is of the front of the leg. I had a good look at it. There were no pains from the veins. Then I wondered about the back of the right leg. Got the Canon camera again and took a blind picture.

Aha, more veins showing through? On a closer look at the photograph, later on, it looked to me that last time, the surgeon who did them had left his name tattooed on the leg? Hehe! I’ll put this one on more prominent than usual to see what you think. It’s on the top right of the picture. Wonder what it is?

Ah, well, better get up; the Carer may be calling soon… and…

As I stood up to catch my balance, I knocked the camera off of the ottoman. I went into the bathroom to ready things for the ablutioning later on, and took this snap of the new marks on the face, this time! Then tried to take another snapshot of the morning view, but the camera didn’t have it. Sob!

It seemed to take the photo, but nothing was getting put on the SD card to view, other than this one and the legs? Miffed off, now! Another blog without many pictures, Humph!

I made up some waste bags, mashed a brew and got on the computer. And the morning carer appeared without ringing the buzzer and made me jump. Haha! Carer Sara was a pretty young thing, and she was sociable. ♥

On with the blog. I finished the update two hours later and posted it on Facebook. Went on Facebooking. Then the WP Reader, and comment reading and replying to.

The usual for the weekend. An increase in Herbert’s noise level. On and off all day, at times, I thought he must have hurt himself with the clanging and banging. At times, I could hurt him myself!

Got on with the Ode template for Saturday’s blog. But a disaster befell me…

I used two pages of saved words on Notepad and got on with selected suitable or better options. And the Peripheral Pete’s Neurotransmitters failed, as Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked in simultaneously. There was controlling my movements at all.

The arm shot across the keyboard with the left clicker pressed firmly down, hitting various keys as it went to my left, knocked the SD reader flying as the connector broke off, and it was all over in seconds, but it did a lot of damage, and worst of all, I lost all my words in the two files!

I then spent the following hours of the day trying to understand what the warning messages that came up meant and trying everything within my limited knowledge to find the missing files. No such luck! Photos not going on again.

Made a large meal and ate it all. Wee-wee. Carer Valerie called. Head down, but foolishly tried to watch a Dirty Harry film on the box… I did, in a way, but in about 25 episodes, I watched one each time I woke up and nodded off again!

Cheers!

Inchcock Today: Diary with Odeing

Brief Diary – with Boringly Long Ode…

One hell of a Messy Day!

Friday 13th May 2022

I reluctantly woke at 05:30hrs, and after a few minutes of determinate efforts to nod off again, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I was cruelly forced to get up!

I made my way to the wet room, pleased with how I was getting about, balance-wise. But was not too keen on how the Porcelain Throne evacuation went. Trotsky Terence had a more significant say in things. Thus it was messy and a semi-splurting affair. Needing a lot of cleaning up doing after the event.

I decided to get a stand-up wash, teeth, medicationing and shave, etc. done as I was there. The shaving well, well, one… just one nick on the chin. (The teeth cleaning I forgot to do, I did it later when I remembered).

Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Arthur Itis knees, Colin Cramps’ hands and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were all medicated. I got dressed, thinking the Carer may soon be here.

Turned on the computer…

Boy, was I pissed off? YES, I was! Grrr! The thoughts of Liberty-Gobal’s Mr Fries getting so much salary and bonuses, and he can’t get an internet signal to work in Nottingham…

DOWN AGAIN

I turned everything off, leaving it for ten or fifteen minutes. Unplugged the lot. Then restarted the hub and, five minutes later computer. Gave it longer to sort itself out and into the kitchenette Humph! Stubbing my toe on the way against the server trolley wheel.

This is not going to be as short a dairy as I planned. My EQ had spoken, “Be prepared for a messy day! So I did!

From the depths of despair, I rose into flabberghastedness! Not only did the internet start, but when I slipped in the SD card – it worked the first time!!! So I got these photos from yesterday loaded to put on here. I didn’t get too excited, though, after I found that some were refused as ‘wrong format’, which they are not; I levelled off my mental state down to ‘Ah, well, I knew summat else would knacker things up!’ mode.

The first two are from the Health Checks, and the results were not too bad either. I’ve had much worse this week.

Oh, dear, now I’ve had to stop. Frustration, self-derogatory tongue lashings and self-hating had to have a few minutes with me! I realised I’d already put these on yesterday’s blog. Of course, I should have been blaming Dementia Doreen! But having to live with her, I didn’t want to make her angry with me! Hehehe! Good job that I didn’t lose more time and recognised that I’d posted them. But definitely, positively, no Smug-Mode was deserved!

When I made a brew and took this photo while doing so. The morning weather was how I felt, a smidge down, dank and not too hopeful. Hey-Ho! Hello, another trip to the Porcelain Throne was indicated…

2 So, off for the second visit of the day. Trotsky Terence was in even more control this time. The liquidifation of things was more advanced, which meant less need and time for cleaning up my delicate areas on the plus side! I used the minus side, which saved time cleaning up the splashed and liquid ricochets.

I took a photograph of the Winwood Heights, Chestnut Way, end car park. I was most concerned not to see RVM (Red-Van-Mans’) van parked on the yellow chevrons. In fact, I could not see it anywhere. He’ll be out at an AA meeting, his probation officer or visiting his mates in prison, mayhaps? Hehehe! Only joking! He’ll be working somewhere.

I pressed on with updating yesterday’s blog. Eventually, getting it done and posted. When I went to get a drink of spring water, I realised that it was beyond 09:00hrs. And no Carer had called yet. I’ll give them a little longer; usually, someone rings if they will be late?

I’m getting fed up with this – Haha! 3: I moved on to Facebooking the blog, went on the TFZer and Winwood Heights pages, read, and replied to some comments. After about an hour… back to the throne. The evacuated product was of a similar nature to the last visit. The jets of liquid were far more powerful… thus messy and needed cleaning again.

I got the bags into the kitchenette, ready to sort them out. I made a start on this blog, it was slow going, Doreen, and the brain’s concentration made things difficult for me. Then, the intercom rang forth and flashed. It was the Amazon shopper delivering my order. He even brought up the flowers first so that the bunches didn’t get crushed. Then he brought the rest up. Bless him.

I go the flower treats put safely stored from crushing, firstly. Today, the treats are for Deana, Julie and Jenny. I rang Jenny to see which one she fancied. Jenny opted for the centre bouquet.

The pink one. At least, I think the first two are pink. They’ve gone now, and I can’t remember the names, Tsk! Oh, yes, I can, one of them, the left one, Chrysanthemums! Sad, innit? My being colour blind and not a new thing that isn’t.

Around 1963 I failed a medical for a job on British Rail as a goods train guard. I found out that I suffered from protanopia – basically, I cannot identify reds from other close colours, orange, maroon etc. Then a couple of years ago, they told me I now (then) had dichromatism, having trouble identifying primary reds, greens and blues. Now I’d acquired Saccades in the right eye and glaucoma and cataracts. See what I mean? Hahaha!

Oh, heckythump, was I waffling on there! Sorry. Back to the diary…

I got the frozen things away. Vegetable burgers, iced orange lollies, potato bakes, potato bites and potato croquettes. I was pretty pleased with how I conjured around the stuff in the freezer to make room for the new stuff.

Then the fridge products, not many today, I intend to use up some of the canned foods. (We’ll see?). Tomatoes, sugar snap peas, mushroom pates, veg sausages, strawberry & grape pots to treats, that’s about it. Ah, no, well, yer see… I suppose you do… Those fresh cream French Horns? I blame one of my sweethearts on the TFZer Facebook page; I have a few. She just loves fresh cream French Horns, and when I eat one, it reminds me of Janet.

Janet and me in the photo here… in a dream I had! ♥ I’m off waffling again!

Cans of Chilli-Con-Carne, pots of jelly & custard, potatoes, fries, vegetable stock, tomato puree with herbs, a lemon, five bananas, a bottle of orange cordial, and a can of chilli soup make up the rest of the the the items purchased.

I got the fodder all stored away (The cupboards and freezer are close to cram-packed now). Then back on the blogging for an hour or two. Suddenly it dawned on me… nearly midday, and no Carer had arrived? I called Warden and Ballerina Julie and or Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell them the flowers are ready for collecting; if they can manage it. Julie answered and said she would come up to see me. I can mention the Carer missing again when she comes.

After making the call, I began to fear that I may have made an error. I was confused, and Dementia Doreen was making me fret; someone had called? I checked on the Meridian call register but could not read it with my eyes… I feared that if I say owt, and it turns out they have already been… I’m going to be regarded as a plonker of the first order? I took some faith that I was shaking a lot more than usual. The last time they failed to show, I’d gone so long without the medications; I got the shakes when they arrived. And boy, was I beginning to shake now! Yes, I was!

Back to my blogging, this is taking far too long. Interruptions of various sorts, and now Herbert had kicked off with his tap-tapping. He didn’t go on for too long. Oh, I think he just dropped something metallic, then!

Warden & ballerina Julie came in. I asked her if she would please take the flowers for Jenny, as I was expecting a delivery and call from the hospital, and she kindly agreed. I mentioned that I don’t think a Carer has been, and she said I was shaking and shuddering. Julie checked the Meridian log and said no one had been. She would mention it to them when she got back to the office. I thanked her, and off she trotted.

It then dawned on me why I’d ordered so much stuff for the freezer. Last week Richard said he would sort the dates of everything in the fridge and freezer for me. I knew I had some meat products I did not want and hoped that Richard would take them off my hands. So there will be plenty of room to get today’s stuff in it. But Richard had another call, and the lad was knackered from his shift yesterday and could sort the freezer for me. Hope he feels better and gets a good break. I’ll miss the lad, but glad he’s got a holiday to recover from his exhaustion.

I started blogging again, and someone from Meridian called me on the landline. She said they were very sorry about this morning, and a Carer is on their way to me now. I said thank you. Shame it had to happen for the seventh time since I’ve been paying them to come. Obviously, Julie had told them for me. Hey-ho, and pickle my walnuts!

Carer Valerie came into the flat, and she got my medications given. She asked me what happened with the morning’s Carer. I said I’ve no idea. Valerie said about me shaking a bit. I thought it had stopped, but apparently not. There is constantly shaking of some sort with Peripheral Neuropathy, but it was more violent this time and uncontrollable now. Thanked Val, and off she trotted. Within half an hour of taking the medicines, I think the shaking was back to normal.

I’m struggling to get the blog updated now. The concentration has been destroyed by all the complications of the day. I took the comfort of some sort in knowing things should calm down now… Did I say that?…

I got a text message, “Feet today!” reminder came in: The foot lady at the hairdressing salon told me it’s my day to have the feet done! Argh! No time to get nowt done!

4 Then it really irritated me that I needed Porcelain Throne visit number four! Just when I didn’t need it, I’m not going to be popular for keeping them waiting when I get down to the salon… mind you, I don’t expect I was before. Hehe! The evacuation was more liquified this time, but it was over quickly.

So, I fumbled and bumbled about again, and I got myself down to the ground floor salon. The looks I was greeted with said, “Oh, here it is, about time too!” They got the feet tended to, not without the odd ‘Argh’ emitting from my lips. I paid the £25, not cheap for getting one’s toenails done, but some other options are dearer. It’s terrible enough forgetting things, but then I gave my toe a stubbing against the airer as I went to get a quick wash. She gave me an appointment card, and I gave out some cans of treats. Then hastened ASAP back to the flat, fearing I may have missed the hospital’s call… Ain’t life a git some days? Well, most in my case!

Tried to get the blogging update advanced, and Valerie (the whisperer) came in the room, apparently talking to me as I typed away on the blog. Of course, I couldn’t hear her. She was returning the laundry. Treated to a little pack of grapes and strawberries. Bless her.

I put the oven on and, got some chilli on the pan, added some spirit vinegar to it and some peas. I’ve been assured that the spirit vinegar will lessen the sharpness of the chilli. After adding the peas and getting the hob going, I took a nibble. And it works! Yee-Haa!

17:15hrs The Evening Carer arrived. The morning caller was 7 hours late, and the evening one was an hour early. They must be having problems. However, the evening medications are mostly Warfarin blood thinners, Lansoprozole for Duodenal Donald, Codeine & Paracetamol pain killer, Ramipril, Peptic Antacid, and Atorvastatin Cholesterol inhibitor. The Folfiri has been stopped for six months to assess. A shame that I missed having the nurse call every day. Hahaha!

Turned everything off and got the nosh sorted out. Vegetable chilli con carnie, with cubes of potatoes done in the oven. Nice and crispy!  I soaked it up with two of the wholemeal bread rolls.

Janet and my favourite fresh cream French horns were gobbled up after the meal. There was a smidgeon of guilt lingering though afterwards. Hehehe! A Taste and Flavour Rating of 9.3/10.

Washed the pots up and spotted the sun on its way down. Despite having a shaking bout at the time (again!), I managed to get two decent, just usable pictures of it.

I took three or four, but the others didn’t come out well. Although not as vivid as some, I thought these two represented a sort of sadness. Then again, nowadays, me not being convinced, confident, in or of something, is usual, the norm! I’m not sure why.

Got a wash, and I stripped off and got down into the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, musty, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.

Then the Thought Storms launched into activity. Starting off with just how good my EQ was this morning with his forecast for the day!

This day’s events have made me even more confident in the validity of my EQ assessments and warnings. For once, I have indubitableness! I must, and will, never doubt EQ’s veridicality again.

But the self-despising, guilt, shame, failure, and bad judgments flowed through the Thought-Storms. It took ages for them to slow down enough to let me get off to sleep. Humph!

ODE TO THE DAY

My EQ warned me as soon as I woke up this Friday…
That day was going to be frustratingly messy!
There was undoubtedly no festivity but a lot of fetidity,
Leaving me with panicky mental fatiguability,
The unexpected, or forgot about, and incongruity,
Doreen Dementia, making things go recalcitrantly,
At times, I just accepted my increasing insanity…
And after so many mishaps, by own banality!

I lost hours getting the Liberty-Global net back on,
I hate things technical, electric, mobiles and silicon…
Turned all off and then back on…
Somehow got it going again, thereon…
Which cheered me up, but just a fraction,
For EQ’s warning, it was like a klaxon!

The carer was late; they’d forgotten about me,
Delayed medications (6-hours), causing psychoactivity,
And I got the shakes, and sweats, all involuntarily,
Took the belated tablets, and soon less shaky…happily!
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies lesion, bloodily…
Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, and Peripheral Neuropathy…
Toe stubbing, painful Porcelain Throne evacuating…
Hopes for an improvement turned out to be delusorily!

Every happening seems to be unfair, conspiratorily…
With the pressure of not knowing, I shook more giddily,
I got more and more uptight, responding haughtily,
I was not coping with things, well I was… but badly,
Self-pity raised its head often, and depression, sadly
Five visits to the Throne, and, Oh, many a wee-wee!
I was faffling around, like Old Mother Riley,
Ways out and solutions were well beyond me…
I knew I was in for a long day… fiddle-dee-dee!

My thoughts and concentration, or lack of I say…
Were thataway, thereaway, thisaway, anyway…
Will this stampede of failure and confusion ever fade away?
I started to fret and worry over silly things, minutiae!
Unimportant, useless, unwanted confusing clamjamfry…
Will I ever recover common sense, memory or logicality?
Then a text message reminder was sent to me…
‘Feet Today’, Toe cutting, £25 more to throw away!

I’d forgotten about the feet, got down to the salon alreet,
Being late arriving, her greeting look was like a bleat…
Painfully had my toenails cut and oiled on both feet,
Gave them each can of plonk as a peacemaking treat
And back to the flat in a hasty retreat…
Where I made chilli, that was a pleasure to eat…
But sleep was resistant; that wasn’t so sweet!

Odes Scribed To Cause A Smile and-or Laugh – I fank you!

Inchcock’s Local New Snippets – Issue 33⅓rd

Discuss the case? Pal of Putin?

So, you stab someone in the middle of the day,
Then walk cursing, but casually away…
You get arrested, to your complete dismay,
Charged with a bladed weapon, they say…
They may also charge you with causing an affray.
And you’re released on bail the same day?
What is all this futile legal foppery?

So, a fine will be nothing; she gets £76,500+ a year,
Expenses on top, bet she’s not feeling toeier!
Coming out of court, she looked full of cheer?
Perhaps she’s going to see the judge for a beer?

Oddlimost, no name of the arrested personage. I can’t see one for the victim, either. This is not going to be a straightforward case!

Robbing, hitting in the face, for chocolates, never?
Is he a Putin spy working undercover?
No permanent home, so a bit of a rover?
He doesn’t look thick, but clever?
Likely he’s a cunning conniver…
He should’ve gotten a job and become an achiever!
Instead of getting himself into all that bovver…
No job involving a hammer, knife or screwdriver!
Perhaps in jail, he’ll train to be a basket weaver?
Or find Christ, and become a believer?
Then he just might stop being a skiver?

The man may have been telling the truth at a whim,
But somehow, I feel a little sympathy for him…
His Mrs giving a verbal onslaught to Darren,
He felt depressed, feeling sick to the brim…
He escaped her nagging, if only for a minim…
And the police went a gorrim!

Drunk or not, he should not have been carrying a knife – that should have been five years for the scumball in a proper prison on its own! Four years in a young offenders’ institution? Pathetic! He’s capable of getting drunk and threatening a woman and child with a knife. A coward, although he no doubts believes he’s not.

Mr Woodall knew alleged killer Campbell through his stepsons Kieran and Joshua – with the three men meeting while they served jail terms at HMP Birmingham. All defendants lived in Nottingham. Mr Heywood added. Mr Woodall lived ‘like a hermit’ on the industrial estate, where he had been renting a unit for about 14 years. The three murder-accused men answered no comment during their police interviews, jurors have been told. McGhee gave officers a prepared statement in which he said: “I have no knowledge of the attack on Carl Woodall and played no part in any attack upon him. I’m not responsible for his death or assaulting him. I do not know who he is.”

Tongue-in-cheek response

Hahaha!

UPDATE

Judge Gregory QC: “It will be a prison sentence, of course,”
Vitoldas Platakis, who showed not a sign of remorse…
Killed Valdamara Zemaitiene, not intending to, of course…
They were partners, so there could be no divorce…
He battered her many times, as a matter of course…
He suggested they were having intercourse?
Unintentionally killed her… my arse!.

I’d have liked to win a £260 Amazon gift card…
Thinking I might win one day, I was blinkered…
Freeing oneself from defeat can be awkward,
Success for me is like custard and mustard…
I used to think before my life was completed…
Just once, that failure be temporarily deleted,
If I was to have a win, I would be riveted!
Anyway, my hopes and prayers were not answered!
So now my wishes, not placated, I vacated…
The world of dreams lies ruined and splattered…
But not winning owt, I refuse to be angered,
I can now work on getting other hopes decluttered!

LATE SNIPPET FLASH!

Released while an investigation takes place…
A man who carries a knife, the law, is in a malaise…
Freed, no danger… what if he stabs and slays?
A lot of stabbings in Nottingham; I’m amazed,
Attacking an eighty-year-old? It dismays…
I hope he gets a good fine and serves 5000 days!

Hehehe!

TTFNski, each!