I arrived in town with aches and pains from the bus trip, I was already sorry I’d escaped! The bus ride was a battle between me keeping the trolley-guide from running away every time we took a corner, jammed the anchors on, went downhill, and my falling out of the seat! Harolds Haemorrhoids were stinging! I called in the Wilko store to get some of the Laundry freshener, which I did. I came out, with three of the granules, chocolate brazils, peanuts and a bottle of disinfectant.
I left and hobbled to the Poundland Shop, where I got carried away and frustrated. They had no pies, Dettol or filled BLT sarnies. After a physical battle with other shoppers breathing down my neck cause I was not moving fast enough, people running in front of me in the queue, I paid with the card at the checkout for the: Toffiffee box, Frazzles, White waste bags, Perle De Perle lemon desserts, Ginsters pasties, Microfibre cleaning cloths, can of stewed steak, Oxo cubes, Mint and lemon disinfectant, (Good for the overnight emergency grey wee-wee bucket, you know!) and a packet of Senna tablets.
Out in the drizzle, passing all the jolly, happy, sociable, kind, understanding, smiling, sweet-natured Nottinghamians, merrily going about their shoplifting and pickpocketing activities. Avoiding the pavement cyclists was risky!
Along Upper Parliament Street, and down King Street towards the Market Square. The wind was getting up, I was struggling controlling the three-wheeler guide, and getting the odd shower from the buses as they pulled up from the puddles. The toenails joined the piles in giving me some tender stinging as I limped down the hill.
I stopped at the bottom of Long Row opposite the tree, and took the time to just glance around, (in my Sherlock Holmesian Mode, here!), to access the mood of the Nottingham plebeians. The masks were being worn by, I’d estimate, 60% of the Nottingham great unwashed, Students, muggers etc., but I got the view that the masses, were not too content with life, but, who can blame them?
I limped across the Slab Square. I’d decided to go to the other Poundland Store on Wheeler Gate, in search of some Dettol disinfectant, and BLT sarnies. A sense of doom and gloom came over me as I crossed over, starving pigeons came down to me when I stopped a moment to try and wriggle the keet to free the toenails that had got tangled in the sock. They must have thought I was going have summat to eat, and hoped a few crumbs would fall to the floor?
Long Row looked terribly sad. Temporary and permanently closed stores everywhere, a desperate pigeon seeking fodder of some sort, and few Nottinghamians about! I got in the Poundland and had another struggle to get around, the feet and toes were harrowing painful now. I cheered a smidge when I found some Dettol lavender disinfectant on sale and got three bottles. As I meandered about I added, two part-baked baguettes, pork pie, a BLT sarnie, The wobbles came on when I got to the self-serve tills, I was embarrassed and in a pickle.
A young lady helped me out and picked up the dropped items and out them through for me. She was busy and kept nipping off to help others, and I started to all out of the shop with the trolley and bags hanging all over it, and the girl chased after me… I had not paid! Red-faced (it probably showed through the face-mask!) I returned and used the card…
Oh, heck! The machine would not take the card! I went into Panic-Mode. The young lady tried to calm me down, but all sorts of things were going through my mind, embarrassment being the biggest! I fumble around and found enough cash to pay, the lady was very calm about it. I thanked her and dug out a can from the trolley, of Vodka mix and gave it to her. When I got outside, I calmed down a bit, as I realised I’d used the card earlier at the other store, so the bak might have been being cautious, in case the card had been stolen and used?
I got to the slab square and noticed the large number of crows that were about. Someone had dropped some crumbs whatever, and the crows dived down attacking the pigeons? I had a good while before the bus was due, so I walked around the Council House and back along Long Row on the other side, to King Street.
The Primark Store had bouncers and staff controlling the shoplifting customers as they queued up to do some pilfering. I don’t know how the stop stays in business. I rarely go in nowadays, its a large store with escalators and stairs, so I can’t go shopping there anymore anyway. But the times in the past I’ve seen kleptomaniacs and pickpockets at work when I did shop there, was phenomenal.
As I turned up King Street to go to the bus stop, the PAvement Cyclist git it blue, came withing inched of hitting me, and seemed totally unaware of it. I hoped my taking this photo might trigger him to ask me why I was photographing him, as he chatted to a fellow food deliverer. Then I could have told him! But, no!
The three Christian singers were out again further up the road, near the Brian Clough statue, its called speakers corner. They or one or more of them are regular attenders. The chap on the right with the guitar started this singing to the Lord off first. I’ve never seen him in long trousers, whatever the weather is like?
I got up to the bus stop and took this snap as I arrived there, it is sadly, indicative of the mood of the City Centre today. Drab! I caught a number 40 bus back home, glad I did, it is much quicker than the L9.
I was tired, in pain, mangled toenails, Duodenal Donald starting to kick-off, depressed, embarrassed, and oh, so keen and ready for fodder and sleep!
01:10hrs: Woke, wobbled out of the recliner, weighed up my balance, and went to the bucket for a weak wee-wee, and wondered why it was so sprinkly, went to get the Health Checks done.
I started with the Chinese built blood pressure machine from Boots, thingamabob, wotsit, erm… ah, sphygmomanometer (I’ve remembered the name now). The SYS was up again, but it’s always up and down lately.
Then onto the Chinese built Harpin Xian Di Thermometer. A near-perfect result this morning. Smug-Mode-Engaged!
Two excellent results!
I took the morning-time medications. The Docusate Sodium Adult/50ml Oral Solution, I shook viciously, before taking a gulp of it, and a Dioctyl® capsule. As per instructions. I made up a 2litre bottle of spring water with some lemon flavouring added and drank a lot of it.
As per the instructions.
Within a few minutes, I had a summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. I hobbled to the wet room and got myself settled down on the plastic lid. And before I even did anything I found the clothes I left soaking in the sink to sanitise them, as I grabbed them to remove to the bucket, black bits appeared everywhere?
All around the drain was marked with black and even yellow bits of whatever it was?
It took me yonks to get things sorted out, and I could not remove all of the gunk, despite my best efforts!
Just as well that the calling to the Porcelain Throne was no of an urgent nature. Else I could have found myself in a proper picklement!
Does anyone have any advice on what might have caused this to occur, please?
The session did not go well. Humph! Again like yesterday, there was no movement for ages, the crossword booking was started. (I didn’t get many answers!). The innards were making rumbling grumbling, noises for a long time.
At long last, albeit painfully, the action started. Grindingly slowly! It was accompanied by strange put-putting sounds. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were going through agony! A couple of stoppages and starting again didn’t help. And the end was a messy, gluey job. It was a mammoth task cleaning up afterwards!
Annoyingly, the blood flowed too freely. And the rear-end cheeks were as sore as the piles were! The medicationalisationing was another painful affair. I felt a little disappointed with this visit. But hey-ho, I’d had a fair start to the day.
I got on with updating the Sunday blog. I’d done a lot of it yesterday, so it didn’t take me too long. Plus, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, we being unbelievably kind to me, now! Yee-Haa! and Gesundheit!
I sent off the post to WordPress. Went on Facebook catch-up, and answered some comments. Tim Price in New Mexico. Pointed out that Venus would be at its most visible at 06:00 hours this morning, thanked him.
I set the alarm on my new Nokia phone to remind myself. Using my new Nokia 9 Pureview Mobile, with its Android (Pie) adaptability, Corning Gorilla Glass 5, Octa-Core Gold CPU, 4K@30fps, 1080p@30fps, HDR video, USB Type-C 3.1, %x12 MP. 28mm Camera, Bluetooth, A-GPS, Fingerprint (under display, optical), accelerometer, gyro, proximity, compass, barometer, Li-Po 3320 mAh, non-removable, Charging Fast 18W, Quick Charge 3.0, USB Power Delivery. Fast wireless charging 10W, and – Qi Battery. Ahem
I made a brew of Glengettie.
I made a start on this post, and before long, it shot by like lighting, in a flash, it was time to get the ablutions sorted out. But as usual, I had a change if plans when I realised I had the time to spare.
I got the handwashing into bowl and sink, So they would be soaking, for it to be easier for me later, then all I’ve need to do is rinse them out and get them hung.
Clever stuff, eh? Maybe not, then.
Ablutionalisationing Report:
The teeth-cleaning was not good, I caught the broken molar that the dentist told me ‘Not to worry about” two weeks ago.
The shaving went betterer, only two nicks, and five dropsies. Although it was a struggle on the last one, as SSS started off as I tried to retrieve the razor.
I had to nip out into the hallway because I’d forgot to turn the power-box. (Hard to believe, I know, Hehe!)
I hit my shoulder on the doorframe getting back in the wet room. (Fruggleclomps!)
Apart from SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Cartilage Cathy, and hitting my head on the control-box, the general showering went okay.
The rear-end cleaning was more painful than usual, that was due to the Porcelain Throne mishap earlier. Hey-Ho!
The drying off did go well, no knocking anything off of anywhere.
The medicating, well, it was not pleasant. Harold’s Haemorrhoids went through agony. And the toe was as tender as heck!
I decided not to put any socks on, this time. Not that the Sock-Glide scares me, injures me, draws blood and traps the fingers giving out bruises and welts with a smile on its face… Getting carried away there again, Sorry)
I caught the toe against the shower chair. Plainly, being the brave, strong, determined young man that I indeed am, this was of no bother to me… I’ll take that back!)
The new substituted by Sainsbury’s PPs for the wrong sized ones were put on… they make me look even fatter than I am, and that’s saying something. Hahaha! I do hope I don’t cough or sneeze, happen they’ll split open if I do! A bit on the small side!
(Not really an Accifauxpa, but it was so funny!) Right at the end of this session, as I was about to leave the room, I realised I’d not sprayed myself with the deodorant – and reached for the Brut, flipped the lid with my left hand. Missed catching it as it shot off, the cap flew into the sock glide, bounced back upwards and hit me on the nose, down and bounced off of the sink, and plopped straight into the toilet bowl without touching the sides! I did larf!
The best bit, the Brut can didn’t hit my foot, or torso!
Oh, and after I pulled the plug after a final washing of the nails, look what happened. The suds refused to go down the drain hole and came back up the overflow? Life can be so confusing, mind you the alternative is worse! Hahaha!
Minutes later, Hristina arrived. My, well, not just mine, of course, beautiful phlebotomy Vampire nurse came. She was again in a hurry, the poor thing has many more calls to make than she had before the Covi-19 animal arrived. Bless her ♥. She had me done in a jiffy and was off to her next client. She still managed to have a mini-gossip in between. ♥
I got the handwashing in the sink finished off. All done, wrung and hung. Only a pair of socks and a long-sleeve tee-shirt were done.
Then I got on with sorting the waste bags out. The box was overflowing so I must take them down straight away to the recycling and rubbish bins. It became a bit of a task when Nicodemus kicked off, but I did get the mall in the box and put it on top of the trolley, I straddled the big recycling bag over the handlebars.
I got the bag with the Balsamic crisps and Skinny bars in it, ( I’d forgotten to take them the other day when I called in Jenny, Tsk!)
A bit of a balancing act, but I got out into the outer hall, and had forgotten (I’m getting better at doing this lately, Haha!) the white recycling big bag, so returned to fetch it.
I went down in the lift, and, (I do feel a clot) got off on the wrong floor. No floor sign up yet. And didn’t realise with all the decorating going on – a weak excuse, but it will have to do, Har-Har! I actually went in the flat’s lobby and pressed the wrong bell! When someone answered the door, I apologised and told the truth of my Whoopsiedangleplop.
Then went down in the elevator to the ground floor, I met Chrissie in the cage, and out into the open air outside. It was good! But, there were no bins out to use! I left the recycling one where the container usually is.
I spotted with my keen, alert, Socratic, sharp, inquisitive Sherlock Holmesian fashion, two fire engines art the end of the road dealing with an alarm at the Winchester Court block. I shall investigate further, later!
I reentered Woodthorpe Court. Observing (Still in Sherlock Holmesian Mode) that someone had supplied us with a Christmas tree in the lift lobby! Bless ’em! It might not be up to the standard of Windwood Court’s, but it is appreciated, whichever kind sole… no, soul, had supplied it for our little community of people who have been locked indoors for so long we’ve forgot each other’s names. Joke!
I rode the elevator back up to the flat. Got the kettle on, and remembered about the fire tenders. I took a snap out of the balcony windows, at least one was still there on Chestnut Walk near the bus turning island.
I think maybe it was a false alarm again. Mind you, we’ve had more actual fires this year than ever, so Malcolm says anyway.
I got updating this post again, and then Dusty’s tune rang out from the door chimes. It was the desirable, ILC, Warden, Obersturmbannführeress, and Desk Top Dancer Deana calling. To do an Alert Alarm test. It was lovely to have just a few words and laugh with her.
Now my fear is that Josie might return the Sunday lunch things late, and wake me up again. Please, that she doesn’t! (She didn’t, Phew!) I must remember to give her the can of gin, I keep forgetting.
I continued doing the updating and later put the ready-made in the oven.
I found this update for Nottingham Covid-19, before closing down the computer.
Getting the meal and bread out of the oven, I suddenly felt a sharp pain from a joint in my finger. I couldn’t believe how painful it was… but within a few seconds, it had gone pain-free? What the heck was that?
Ah, well, I got the meal prepared. Not much hassle to make it tonight. Iy didn’t look overly-attractive, but by gum, it tasted so good! A well-worthy 8/10 for flavour rating.
The pie was a low-calorie Kirsty’s Cottage Pie, with a difference. It had a sweet potato and carrot mash! What smidgeons of mince that was in it, had a lot of gristle in it, but I’m not averse to them and ended up chewing on odd bits that I retrieved, that had found refuge in my teeth, later. Hehehe!
I got the few pots and tray washed-up, took the evening medications, Phorpained Cathy Cartilage’s knee, and gave poor suffering Harold’s Haemorrhoids a soothing dose of the Germoloid ointment.
I settled to watch some TV, (believingit to one of the finest palliatives, in my quest to get to sleep). It worked, the first set of adverts came on, and I was gone, into the land of Sweet Morpheous, and managed four hours unbroken kip.
If it’s not enough, I can slip yer a few quid, Pattie! ♥
Saturday 12th December 2020
Hawaiian: Poaono 12th Kekemapa 2020
23:35hrs: Well, well, well, as I woke up, what a dream and-a-half I recalled having. The first time in months, I could remember bits, some lucidly. So, I got the notepad and started to scribble down the details.
Disappointingly, the recalled memories were disappearing fasting than I could write them down. Spurgledamnations!
I had a wee-wee, washed, and got the Health Checks seen to. Sphygmomanometer SYS reading had crept up 2-points, at 158. The Dia four points to 80 and the Pulse was up 10-points to 95. It was a right merry-go-round lately.
The Harpin Xian Di (well, it makes it sound posher, Haha!) Thermometer temperature was exactly the same as yesterday’s was at 36.8°c.
I’d finished the HC’s, and had just made a mug of tea, then the first summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. The crossword book came out, as it soon became evident that this session was going to have the wee hours DESC (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Challange) won by Constipation Konrad, Trotsky Terence never got a look in, a 5-0 victory!
It was more painful than it has been than for a few days, took longer as well. Taking so much stressful effort to get things started. The plop-plopping told me it was of the meatball variety. They were of the hard rock variety, today. A bit of blood, but that was from poor suffering Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Unexpectedly, the cistern needed two hand-refills and three flushes to rid the evacuated product from the bowl. This does not bode well! But still, with things changing each time, you never know.
Had a good clean up and some medicating of the rear end, a wash, and back to the front room to take some of the Docusate Sodium for the first time. I’d already taken one of the Dioctyl® capsules, but I thought I’d try this medicine to see if it works any better, cause they ain’t doing much at the moment, to ease anything.
There was no way I could safely try to use the plastic spoon as instructed, with so many ailments that might affect my control while using the right hand. (Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failing, SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Neuropathy Pete doing one of his uncontrollable right-leg dances, Colin Cramps or Shaking Shaun) So many that can and do attack without any notice. Are they bothered?
Took these morning shots of the view.
I threw the now cold mug of Glengettie tea away, and made a fresh one, taking it with me to the computer. I had the updating of the Friday blog done in a short time today. I needed four wee-wees in the process, though. Made another mug of Thompsons Punjana this time. Then I Pinterested some snaps, went on Facebooking, that took a good few hours to get updated. Sent the link off on email. Read and replied to the WordPress comments, and had to return to the Porcelain Throne.
Well, at least it was something different this time. Trotsky Terence was making more of a fight of it this time, but not much. I’d say Constipation Konrad had won 3-1. Just as painful while it lasted, but it was a quicker starting and shorter-lasting affair, Phew!
The leg-ankle looked to be settling down nicely. Apart from I think, some new veins starting to burst through.
I was coming out of the wet room after cleaning up and walloped my right shoulder on the doorframe. Nicodemus neurotransmitters let me down with the distance awareness.
Of course, it didn’t bother a stalwart like me. There was no cringing with pain or frustrations, or silent-swearing about the accifauxpas whatever… no gritting of teeth, or sloshing on the Phorpain Gel. Oh, no, nothing like that! Spittalisations, it didn’t half-crunch! Took an extra Codeine and rubber in some Phorpain gel, well. Tsk!
The lovely brown hue was coming in the sky, so I took these shots.
Went on the WordPress reader section, some grand photographicalisations on there this morning. Then did a start on this blog. Things were taking a lot longer now, with typing, and error making and correcting – the shoulder-charge had set off SSS and Shaking Shaun! Even Dizzy Dennis visited me occasionally, on one of his calls, he nearly had me out of the swivel chair, it was close. Ah, well, yer can’t win em all!
We’ll take it that I continued to have wee-wees every half-hour, it’ll save me in typing-time. Grobblenangles! But I’ll no doubt still mention them.
07:55hrs: The template making needs to be done, this will be a long job. I made a start with the ‘Thought’ graphics.
10:20: Got the Thoughts finished, then went to make a brew of Glengettie tea, yet another wee-wee, Oh, my good night! Another visit, number-three, to the Porcelain Throne needed! Off to the wet room, still, I can take my pee at the same time.
What a change, not totally mind, it still took an aeon to start, the cunning devil quickly started to evacuate, and stuck where it was. Yet, on the bright side, I did very well with the crosswording, I got just wanting one answer to get. I gave it my shot, but it was lost. The clue was ‘Question’, only five letters, and I had three of them: _ R _ P _. Sadly, after weeks of trying to finish this one off, I had to cheat to get it. How I didn’t get it in the very first place, I don’t know – I felt such a fool! Gripe – Humph!
After all that time, things suddenly activated from the rear end, oddly some splurging and a lot of liquid flowed forth, again, painfully. But it soon out and clear, well, not clear, it was the opposite of the first visit, and messy, very messy affair. Utterly different colour (Karki) and texture, and funked something rotten! The cleaning up and medicating took ages, and the cistern needed three flushes again. Oh, not bleeding whatsoever!
The innards were rumbling afterwards, not before? This liquid constipation medicine is not going to suit me at all. I wonder if the dispensing pharmacist has added something to it? Hahaha!
Got a good scrubbing up, cleaned the furniture, and off to the kitchen to make the mug of Glengettie.
10:55hrs: Back on the computer, to at long last, to make a start on producing the templates needed. And, by gum, it turned out to be the most extended ever session I’ve done on the computer at home, ever!
A few breaks though, many wee-wees and even more Porcelain Throne visits in between. The third one came as I settled to make a start on CorelDrawing to create the graphics. A fight-back from Trotsky Terence in the DESC (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Challange). A 2-1 victory.
A proper messy affair! Slow starting again, then a burst and all over. Literally, me the bowl… Hehehe! Once again a mammoth cleaning up job.
11:10hrs: Back to computing and graphicalisationing. Hard at it, now!
I plodded on, mistake-making, but not so many as usual. Ahem!
15:00hrs: Stopped to make a brew and take the medications. Back to the computer to allow the Glengettie to get cold. Humph!
16:00hrs: I made another mug of Glengettie. And the third, or was it fourth, Porcelain Throne visit was summoned. This time, a return of power in the DESC (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Challange), to Constipation Konrad. I lost a lot of time waiting for the activity to begin. Howled, Eurghrd and grimaced a lot when it did move, and the blood flowed, and the piles pained… Argh! More time cleaning up and medicating needed. This slowed the brain down, and the concentration required for the mammoth graphicalisationing session was hard to obtain, now.
I made another mug of tea, Thompsons Punjana this time, to replace the gone-cold cup. The evening sky looked marvellous in the sunsetting sky. So I got my Nokia camera and took… No, my Nikon camera, and took this photo.
Another blast on CorelDraw then made up the templates, I was well-weary by then, and a few hours later, made a mug of Glengettie (yes, the last one went cold again, Tsk!)
I took these pictures in a close-up setting of the scene before me from the unwanted, unlike, impossible to get to for a 75-year old, old fart to get at to wash, most annoyingly light and view-blocking kitchen window.
At long last, after my being up and struggling for about 16-hours, I got the templates finished, Ahhh!
I was all-in now, feeling so drained after the session on WordPress and CorelDrawing. I gave serious consideration to stopping doing these Inchcock Todays. It is just too much for me nowadays.
I’ll do them up until Christmas, and then try something different not so time-consuming. Perhaps daily photos alone. A made-up CorelDraw fun graphic? A poem or Ode, occasionally? I’ll try to think it through. However, I think I may be too addicted to stop? Hahaha!
The ailments can be such a bind sometimes. The Peripheral Neuropathy, Nicodemus’s dying neurotransmitters, SSS, Colin Cramps, Shaking Shaun, and the often causing falls and injury inclined Neuropathic Pete’s right-leg dances, etc. not helping. Worse with the lock-down of course, can’t get out to see and talk to anyone. Although I have no right to complain about the stroke, with so many poor folks far worse off than I am, after having theirs.
I’m waffling again, ain’t I? Sorry.
I made up a nosh, Irish potato farls, tomatoes, German ham, Marmite cheese, an apple and a pot of lemon mousse. It took me ages to prepare this simple meal, but I didn’t eat all of it. But what I did eat, I enjoyed, a flavour rating of 7/10 given.
I think with the innards and bowel being all topsy-turvy, it’s just put me off eating.
I got down in the recliner and put the TV on. After nodding-off and waking so many times, I turned off the telly.
The Thought-Storms were absent tonight, that was a refreshing change.
23:58hrs (Yesterday): I woke, thanks to some noise that sounded like someone tapping hard with a stick on the floor, came from above? It may have been something in the water-works I suppose? It could have been going on for a while and did not bestir me earlier, but the five clunks, with a few seconds between them, I heard without my hearing aids in? I had to get up and have a look around, well, a wee-wee first, then I took a look outside, and in the flats lobby, but I’ve no idea what it was or where it came from, other than somewhere above. Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, confuse, and scare the hell out of Inchcock,’ was back attacking again! I hope it wasn’t noisy-Herbert trying to get help. Certainly not fireworks this time.
Feeling a little like Stan Laurel, I blinked, and made my way aimlessly to the kitchen, blurry-eyed, and annoyed that I could not find anything out about the midnight-tapping.
And got on with the Health Checks. The stick thermometer gave another decent reading of 34.8°c for me.
Then I got the sphygmomanometer from the medical cupboard and utilised it. Oh, dearie me, the flipping SYS was up again! Will it ever come withing range again! So, there’s no ♫ Home, home on the range ♫ for me then? Hahaha!
By gum, it’s not-half nippy this morning!
I got mini-potatoes, that seemed a little large for mini-potatoes to me, in the crock-pot, and added some of the Squid brand vinegar to marinate for a while.
Got the computer going, and got ready to update the Inchcock Today diary.
But, could I find where my reading glasses were? No! I even got down (foolishly) on my knees to have a look underneath the cabinet, in case they’d fallen off.
Getting back up was a challenge, but I managed it with only Back-Pain-Brenda giving me any bother, mind you, it hurt!
After a search around in silly places, I decided I’d have to wear the old ones and cope as best I could. I can have an in-depth forage around for the misplaced new spectacles later on. As I settled again, there they were, to my right, two-and-a-half feet away from me, there they were! I did feel like a right fool, idiot, pillock, dumbo, plonker, wassock and putz! But these are frequent emotions of mine nowadays. One gets partially-used to the stupidity and memory-loss.
Herbert accompanied me with his frequent drumming noises, as I pressed on with sorting out the photo’s to use. And a few hours later, I got the Thursday blog finalised. What a slog that was, Humph! I emailed the links, went on the WordPress Reader, Pinterested some snaps, made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, then went on a mammoth Facebook updating session.
Made up a template, then made the Sainsburys order for next week, Wednesday 30th Sept, twixt 7-8 a.m. Put it on the Google calendar. And tended to the ablutionalisationing.
–: Not such a good session this time, I’m afraid. Toothache Trevor kicked off. 3 dropsies.
Then a few nicks shaving, many dropsies, the foam can twice, and I lost count of the razor’s dropsies. I was on the verge of giving up and trying later! Gragnangles! But I stuck at it.
Next, the showering was a bothersome and painful affair. The showerhead went down, clouting Arthur Itis’s left knee en route to the floor! I had two bangs into the grab rail, hip and head when I went to pick-up the thrice dropped carbolic soap! As I came out of the shower I did a double – I walked into the sock-glide, and stubbed my toe against the metal shower-chair at the same time! This session certainly made up for the previous two easy-going ones!
On a brighter note, the legs I thought were looking a lot better today.
But I wasn’t bothered, it didn’t hurt much, I didn’t start using naughty language, or feeling sorry for myself, oh, no. Ahem!
After the sock-glide incident, things calmed down. Dizzy Dennis departed, and I got on with the towelling down and medicalisationing. Which both went marvellously? Not knocking anything over or walking into anything, the furuncle was dying off I think, cause it gave no pain at all! Harolds Haemorrhoids were not too fierce at all! Yee-Ha!
I got the computer closed down, to give it time to cool down. And got a load of waste-bags made up. I’m not taking the recycling bag, although it is nearly full, cause I don’t want top miss window cleaner Pete, calling. I got a bag for dropping off at Jenny and Franks on the three-wheeler, ready to go to the chute. I had a check around before leaving, to monitor the state of the taps (faucets), heaters, stove, lights, doors, sink plugs etcetera.
Out to the rubbish room with the bags, and got them down the chute, I had a bit of bother doing this, because Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters had started failing again, so I had to take care; that iron chute-lid can be lethal!
I got to the lift lobby and was soon down on Jenny’s floor. Dropped the bag near the door of their flat, and as I came out, Frank appeared at the door. He was looking in rude health bless him. I wished him a happy Christmas from a distance, he returned the best wishes and laughed. I love it when folks laugh spontaneously.
Getting the elevator back up to the twelfth floor, was a nightmare. It must have taken me half-an-hour! (At least it felt like it!) The contractor lift arrived, which we are not allowed to use, a chap in it said something to me, but I didn’t catch what he was saying, but he seemed in a good mood.
The Residents lift arrived and had two people in it, they were not wearing masks, so I declined their offer of getting in with them.
The cage went down to the ground floor, then started coming up, it went by the ninth floor I was at, and came down again, with a chap in it, he had no mask on wither, I politely declined his offer, telling him I was after going up, not down.
The lift went down to the 4th floor and stayed there for yonks. Eventually moving down to the ground floor, then up the top floor, and started coming down, and was on the 13th floor for ages. I expected people to be in it and got ready to explain I was going up when the cage stopped, but there was no one in it?
It came back up, (I needed another shave by then, Hahaha!) and it was empty, I got in and back up to my level.
As I got out, the need of a wee-wee, made me hasten a little and going through the flat’s foyer door, I clouted my right shoulder on the frame. When I got in the apartment, a Nottingham City Homes Newsletter had been delivered. I didn’t know what it was, but it looked official to me, and I feared it might be the appointment for either the bladder or bowel scan. I didn’t read it yet, I hadn’t got the time to.
I got the kettle on, well, I had the wee-wee first, of course, to make room for the brew. Haha!
I rebooted the computer, and a Your Area Newsletter had arrived.
So, I had a look at the latest Coronavirus figures for Nottingham. It was a smidge confusing for me. As you might know, I have trouble with number calculations, this started after I’d had the stroke.
Arithmophobia it’s called. Or is it Dyscalculia? Or both? I’ll look it up on Google.
My problem must be Dyscalculia. I found this article. Czechoslovakian researcher Ladislav Kosc defined the disorder as, A structural disorder of mathematical abilities” caused by impairment to the parts of the brain used in mathematical calculations. With the stroke, it makes sense, to me. But I waffle again, sorry!
Then, I found later that it must be correctly stated as ‘Acquired Dyscalculia’: It read; Usually acquired as the result of a stroke or injury. Another ailment that will need naming, and I can use to sound more intelligent than wot I am really. Har-har!
On the ‘Your Nottingham’ emailed report, it gave this statement and updated figures for the Coronava statistics in Nottingham. Neither of the publications gives a very bright, or encouraging viewpoint, do they? Anti-Gloom tablets needed? Hehehe!
It’s 14:40hrs now. No signs of Pete, the window cleaner, and its getting towards my nosh and head-down time. I’ve been up for 14 hours or so, now. Thanks to being woken up at midnight. Just thought I’d mention it again!
I rang Frank and Jenny, Frank was there, but Pete did them and left them hours ago. So I don’t know whether to make the nosh and get my head down or not? Will he be calling? Did my getting stuck waiting for a lift cause me to miss him? Oh, shit!
I took some photos of the beautiful late afternoon clouds. Very nice they looked too, but I didn’t really appreciate it, with not knowing what’s going on with the windows, and dare not go to bed, in case Pete arrived.
I rang Jenny again, in the hope that she knew something about the window cleaner’s situation. But, no answer.
Feeling a bit down now! Going to try and get a graphic done… Hello, the landline ringeth and flashes! It was from Jenny. She’s found out what had happened, for me. Apparently, Pete went up to the 13th floor by mistake. And someone told him they didn’t want the windows doing! Claptickleisation! I’m a lucky bugger!
Thank heavens for Jenny! ♥
So, I got on with making the meal.
The Jenny supplied yellow tomatoes, and onions tasted. The Irish potato farls were too.
I got the pots washed, took a wee-wee, got washed and imbibed the evening medications. Then, down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner.
It wasn’t long, before my frustrated brain, and incapacitated, over-stomached, wobbly-bellied body, was safe in the hands of Sweet Morpheous. Better late than never! Bliss!
The effervescent, bubbly, good-natured Nottinghamian, 25-year-old, super-fit, Educator, Mountaineer, Professor of Neurotransmitterisational failure, and lover of oven-baked Leicester cheese potatoes; presents his latest dollop of poetical rubbish, for you!
Here we go…
I may be getting on for eighty, But I retain some childish juvenility, It’s one thing, in which I have the ability, I don’t need any guilt or justifiability, I’ve no confidence left, just vulnerability!
My ailments give me pain and irascibility, I’ve long lost interest in egocentricity, My body’s lost strength and elasticity, The legs have lost their endurability, The brain’s, now devoid of logicality!
Possibly, perhaps, partly old age, you see, Could be lack of fun, loneliness and frivolity, That’s made me somewhat grumpity, The Porcelain Throne? It’s solid or liquidity, No chance now, of any multi-functionality!
My once sharp mind, now full of banality, I catch the wrong bus into the City, I stutter now, so it’s hard to be witty, I feel I’ve become a nugacity, a nonentity, For falling asleep, I have a propensity!
No fighting spirit, and no ignitability I’m morose, sad, no shockability, For black periods, I’ve a susceptibility, Life no longer offers me any tangibility, But a big flabby-stomach, and gibbosity!
One thing that’s grown, is my gullibility, And my stomach, that’s an undeniability My hopes have gone, died, ostensibility, Now life has very little enjoyability, I sometimes wallow in self-pity, That’s when I’ll write, a silly ditty!
00:00hrs: Already up, and finished working on this updating of the Tuesday post, and sent it off.
Then went on the WordPress Reader section. Then I Pinterested a few snaps, next onto Facebook. Spent some time on Facebooking. But it eases and pleases me, and I enjoy it. Then, on to CorelDraw to get some graphics done.
Oh, Gawd! From nowhere Dizzy Dennis attacked, I really did think I was going to fall off of the swivel chair, and a headache developed at the same time, on the right side of the head! Enough, when I felt stable enough, I got sat down with a drink of orange juice, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked off, which prevented me from nodding off for a while, but sure enough, as things calmed down further, I drifted off into the land of nod!
I stirred around 06:00hrs. Disinclined to wake or get up, and the Thought-Storms started. The need for a wee-wee arose, and the urgency increased. So at least that got me and my oleaginous, body out of the £300, c1968, second-hand, not-working, disconnected rickety recliner, and to the wet room.
A brand new style off wee-wee today, (It’s interesting having so many ailments!) I’ve Christened the mode as UDYP (Urgent-Deep-Yellow-and-Painful). It’s encouraging to be able to report that Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding at all! All done, washed the hands and contact points, and as I was going out of the door, I had to go back in to deal with another rushing-gush wee-wee of the same variety!
I wiped and washed again, and off to the kitchen to do the medicationalisationing.
For some reason, unknown to me, as the bare feet got on the floor tiles, they were so cold to the touch?
The BP readings were different this morning. SYS well up, at 173, DIA 83, Pulse 77, and Temperature was 37.8°c. When I got out the tablet dispensers, I worked out that I had enough up until Saturday morning. This is when ILC, Ballerina, Comforter, Obersturmbannfuhreress, and Warden, Deana, said they should be delivered by the Carrington Chemist. I made a brew…
Gordon Bennett! The first sip was taken, and agony invaded the teeth! Cricky, it made me jump! Of course, the toothache was well set in, and kept on all through the day! Gragnangles!
Coronavirus is to blame for many of my new ailments.
The chemist cannot get the Saccades Sandra spray yet!
The paediatrist is closed until further notice!
The dentist is closed until further notice!
The Audio Clinic (Running out of hearing aid batteries) closed until further notice!
The Opticians closed until further notice!
I decided I’ll see if I can get out and about later, and try the audio clinic for some batteries. That is if I can manage the haul up that terribly steep and demanding Park Row hill. Might I change my mind later?
I took a photo of Chestnut Walk. I think there is a free car parking space available. A seldom known, extraordinary happening here at Windwood Heights?
I got on with updating. The rain and darkness repeatedly came and went, and finally, the updating got finished. The job was all done and dusted.
Off I trudged to the wet room.
The ablutions were soon got into with gusto. The shaving didn’t go exactly according to plan. But the teggies were painless, well not pain-free, cause of Toothache Thomas, but at least I didn’t have any bleeding from the gums.
The pins were looking a little battered, and still very much of the ghostly-anaemic design! The volumingargantuan, onerous hog-like, ponderosity, bulk, flabby stomach, may well have gained a couple of inches of girth overnight? But I’m sure I did not do any nocturnal nibbling?
After getting myself dressed (I can do it on my own now, you know, Hahaha!), I pottered about faffling, panicking, and double-checking everything before I dare set out to catch the bus to town to get the hearing-aids (And take some photographs).
I went for a wee-wee, and this time it was of the SS (Short-Sharp) mode of exudation and was the colour of a suppuration, it really was yellowy-green! Don’t be jealous, though, if you live long enough, it can still happen to you. Then all these exotic, appealing ailments, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and mysteries I write about, will become apparent and understandable for you. I didn’t mention logical on purpose. (Hahaha!)
A semi-serious, convoluted message came from my EQ! It was certain; The trip out was going to be frustrating and depressing. I should consider not going out! Mmm? The Emotional Quotient is rarely, if ever wrong! Foolishly I ignored the warning and got everything needed in the three-wheeler guide, made sure the bus-pass, door swipe, keys and crossword book were taken with me. Double checked the lights, faucets and electrics, all seemed okay, and off I went. With a big bag of recyclable material over my shoulder (not really, it was on top of the trolley, Haha!), and out I hobbled.
Down, bag in the bin, and ambled along Chestnut Drive, as the drizzle started to come, camera at the ready. I stopped for a few moments under the Chestnut tree while the rain was more substantial, but it soon weakened to just the odd spit falling.
As I got to the bus stop, I met Welsh William. I told him about Timothy Price’s marvellous clip of the owlet and told him if he gave me his email address, I’d forward the link. Then told him of what happens in the video. No interest was shown, which surprised me, I thought he’s loved to have seen it. He went off talking to someone else. Ah, well! Bless him, his free choice.
I limped over to where Peggy and Christine were nattering and bothered them. (Hehehe!) Peggy had on a seriously good face-mask, black, and it looked good quality built. Christine had hers on, and me too! They then told me that, from next Monday, anyone travelling on a bus must wear a mask. I decided to get another or two while out today.
They all got on the Bestwood bound bus with some other tenants, and I was all alone again. Then, slowly it dawned on me why! I’d got the bus times wrong once-again, Humph! I think that my EQ was right! With only going out once in months, I’d forgotten about the L9 service now being on a permanent Saturday roster, meaning a bus every two hours! I did feel a clot!
Back to the flat, and I took a few more photographs en route. One of Winchester Court main entrance. The flowers outside Winwood Court’s foyer, they were beautiful, especially so, with the petrichor, the aroma of earth and rain! Lovely! Then snapped the frontage of Winwood Court. A lot of open windows today?
Back to the apartment, and put these pictures into the computer. A letter had been received, telling us work will be taking place on the roof and will be noisy.
It’s going to be a long day, now I have to catch the 10:30hrs bus. (If I knew then, what I know now, I wouldn’t have bothered going out, the hearing aids batteries, and a mask so I can get on a bus, persuaded me to go though! Of course; as you will read later, I managed to get neither of wanted items! (Note to Self: In future, do not ignore the EQ!) Grumblecronkackers!
I set out once again to get the bus, at the right time this time, for the 10:30 L9. I was the only passenger to get on, but the bus was fullish, and with the side-saddle seats not in use, I had to sit on the outside of a standard chair, and hang onto the three-wheeler, to prevent it rolling away at each corner the Graham Hill fan, the driver took.
I was feeling worn out by the time we got into Nottingham. I was going to call into Wilko and the Poundland shop to see if the yhad any face-masks in. But, Wilko’s had a note on their window, telling us they had none left, but would do their best to get some for us!
And the socially-distanced queue for the Poundland shop filed around the corner for hundreds of yards! So, I had a walk to the Poundstretcher store on Milton Street. This where I got the face-mask from last week. Of course, they had none left in stock, either! Gragnackles!
However, I did get of my favourite McVities orange flavoured chocolate biscuits. A bottle of Woolite washing liquid and a bag of black bags.
As I came out of the shop, into the more torrential rain now, I met Gertrude, an old friend from years ago, and we had a natter in a doorway to keep dry. But her telling me she had just gone tot he Audio Centre to get herself some hearing aids, and they were closed, did not do me a lot of good! Silver-Lining Search Result: At least this saved me hobbling up the hill to find out!
I made my way through Trinity Square, avoiding the now-famously suicidal and dangerous to others, Deliveroo pavement cyclists.
It was a depressing hobble. What with so few people about, and those I met or spoke to were all down in the dumps, or in a snappy mood.
The change of rules for the bus passengers having to wear face-masks, causing another shortage of supplies.
The drizzling rain soaking us all through.
The much colder weather, and a general atmosphere of, well, what’s the words I’m looking for? Depression is too strong a word… oh, I don’t know though!
I walked down and through the Slab Square and onto Wheeler Gate, noticing the two, what looked like new Police Community Officers, in their brand new uniforms and stab-vest, watching as they ambled around, ignoring the pavement cyclists, the vehicles parked on double-yellow lines. A scuffle taking place for a moment on Long Row encouraged them to walk up King Street in the opposite direction.
I called in the Poundland shop there, and they were not busy at all. The manager even greeted me as I went in, asking me, cheerily; “To take your time, no rush, you might spend more then!” Hahaha! It worked, no face masks available there either, but I did spend a bit. Buying, 2 lemon-sherbet concentrated disinfectants, (No, I’m not joking) 2 Lemon Verbena & Cucumber air sprays, (No, I’m not jesting here, either, Hehe!) 1 can of beef in gravy for a quid. 1 pack of Indian seedless grapes, a packet of walnut-halves, and cashew nuts. A packet of BBQ chicken pieces, and a packet of pork slices with stuffing! And a pack of six mini-jelly pots! By gum, the lady who helped me put them through earned her can of G & T!
I paid-up and had a hobble in the rain to St John’s Church, and called in the Sainsbury’s small shop, to see if they had any face-masks available. Nope! Shame! But they did have some decent looking tomatoes of which I bought a pack and some seafood sticks.
I had a wander around the City Centre, before going to the bus stop, cause I had plenty of time. I spotted the imitation police officers, now on Upper Parliament Street.
I made my way to the top of Queen Street. The drizzle was easier now. A police car sped by, followed by an ambulance. And the Theatre Royal & Royal Concert Hall, surely one of the ugliest building ever built?
Then as I was going down to the bus stop, one of the infamous Deliveroo cyclists, floated down Queen Street at a fast rate of knots, in the wrong direction. Queen Street is one way, up the hill!
I considered pointing this illegal Road Traffic Act naughtiness out to the two heroic imitation policemen who were still nearby, with their hands in their new tunic pockets, keeping away from the earlier well avoided, Long Row scuffle.
But they had given me some rum looks when I photographed them earlier, so I thought better of it. Hahaha!
The L9 arrived with two drivers, and they kept me out in the rain for a few minutes while they chatted. No help offered in getting my heavily overloaded walker-guide onto the bus. I had to sit in the same deadly seat as going into town. They got off, of the bus.
I got one of the chicken pieces out of a bag to nibble. When the boss man got back on, he said: “There’s no eating allowed on the bus, youth!” And kindly offered me a scowl, worthy of a David Cameron sneer! And so I stopped eating!
The ride home was uncomfortable and I banged my ankles, elbows and knuckles, more than a few times as I fought to stop the trolley wandering off each time the bus screeched around a corner.
I was well in the dumps by the time we got back to Winwood Heights.
EQ was right! Colin Cramps were coming on already!
As I got into the flat’s foyer, Josie came behind me, and we had a little natter. When she heard of my problems in getting a face-mask, she fetched one for me to have. How kind of her! I got the fodder put away, and made a mug of Glengettie.
I updated this diary for a couple of hours, then, very late on now, I got the beef nosh sorted out. Beef and gravy, with extra caramelised gravy added, potatoes, garden peas, apple pies, seedless grapes, and lemon yoghourt. Flavour rating: 8/10.
So late, so tired, and soon slid into a much-needed sleep.
An Irritable day, with the odd pleasant highlights.
01:45hrs: I came back to imitation life, and my mind filled with the memories of last night’s unfortunate, to say the least, Whoopsiedangleplop in the kitchen, when the bar on top of the cabinets came down, making a terrible mess, that I basically left unsorted, and needs tending to today.
This prompted my making plans on the duties that lay ahead for me. The Iceland delivery is coming, along with my beloved Hristina, my phlebotomy nurse in the same time-period; twixt 09:00 > 11:00hrs. I need to at least get yesterdays blog finished and posted first. Then make a start on this one. Do my ablutions. Get the mess in the kitchen sorted out, and the kitchen floor mopped up.
So, I got out of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner; niftily I might add, and off to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) for an EBSC (Energetic-But-Short-Painless-Cloudy) wee-wee.
Then to the kitchen to get the kettle on and do the medicationalising as needed. The pins looked in rude health, although still looking a little aenemic. The leg ulcer had almost disappeared, but there was some itching coming from it.
The sphygmomanometer revealed that the Sys had gone up again. Could be the excitement of seeing my Vampire Nurse again? But most likely at the thought of all the cleaning and sorting of the kitchen collapse is likely. Grobognangles!
I got on with the updating of the Monday blog. Pressed on persistently and eventually got it all done and posted off. (This took me around two hours to do!) During which, a stomach ache came on? It might have been Duodenal Donald getting ready to kick-off, but I’m not sure. Finally finished it and posted it off. Emailed the link, Pinterested some piccies. Then onto Facebooking.
Time to get the ablutions sorted, then the kitchen to sort out. Oh, also the handwashing to be tackled. Oh, dearie me!
Well, it’s a long time since I’ve actually walked into the door frame! Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was not pleased, at all! At least it was the right blade, and with Nicodemus’sNeuroitransmitters on strike at the time, there was not much pain.
But, Shirley seemed to kick-off the instant I collided with the door, which meant I dropped and broke one of the Jenny-donated mugs which I as taking to wash! Cragknackles! Then, bending down to pick up the pieces, Back-Pain-Brenda joined in as well, she was nasty with it! But, a Silver-Lining-Search, told me I had been doing extremely well ailment wise over the last 24hrs, so I should only expect things like this to happen. Fair enough! Gragnattles! Also, it was handily timed, so I could apply some Phorpain Gel after the ablutioning! Again, Fair enough!
Just as I was about to start cleaning the teeth, and the need for the Porcelain Throne put in an appearance. Good timing again, there I was a limp-and-a-half away from the Throne at the time! And apart from being a little messy and Khari in colour, the ensuing evacuation was almost perfect. Yes, I know, a welcome shock it was! And no bleeding! Smug-Mode-Assumed!
Washed the dandies, and then searched for some teeth to clean. (Haha! Not many left now! A bit of bleeding where I got a tad over-zealous on the back lower teeth. Ah, the shaving next! Fully aware of the likelihood of Shuddering-Shoulder Shirley causing a slash or to, instead of using both hands and two razors as usually would, I tried shaving with just the left hand. But this seemed to set Anne Gyna off? How? Why? So, I reverted, carefully to my usual method.
There were a few nicks, but nothing extreme at all. And they did not bleed much either. I reckon the INR Warfarin level must be well low. With waiting for three weeks for a blood test, it’ll be interesting to see the results of today’s test.
A stand-up all over wash (Too early to use the shower and disturb my unseen for months neighbours) The pins (legs) were looking better than they have for ages. However, the legs did look exsanguinated in the extreme, which was a smidge worrying!
Then I medicated the bodily areas in need of the same. Haemorrhoid Harold’s crevice was Germaloid creamed. Arthur Itis’s knees were Phorpain gelled. Little Inchies fungal lesion, well, as usual, I gritted my few teeth and rubbed in some Corticosteroid cream Argh! Olive-oiled the ear-holes. Applied some tincture to a couple of bothersome teeth. No Saccades Sandra spray left. I’ll see if I can get in touch with the chemist tomorrow, then see if Deana can help with arranging to have it collected for me, along with the prescriptions.
I rang Jenny to tell her that when the milk arrives, I’ll ring her, and bring it down to her. But bless her, she having none of that, and insisted she would come up to collect and pay for them. She’s not a lady to argue with! I wish she’d adopt me, though!
Then I hobbled to the waste chute with two small bags. I was walking, well, stumbling decently enough, but the feet and toes were rather painful.
Back to the flat, and got the handwashing sorted out. I got the zip-up jumper above the heated cloths air ion the hallway to catch the rising heat. (Cunning, eh? Hehe!) I’ve now one drying, another cleaned, and the one I’m wearing and dirtying. Hahaha!
Then, I washed through the yarmulke, and craftily put it on a bend in the airer, and kept turning it every now and then, to help it dry quicker. (I’m not daft yer know! Alright, fair enough, I am!)
I got the towel drying on the flat airer in the front junk-room.
Somehow or other, I attained some zeal, resolution, and pertinacity, and set about, limpingly, I admit, to get the kitchen floor cleaned!
Worra struggle and pain it was too! Cleaning of the floor, I knocked stuff over, dropped and lost things, cut my finger, banged my head on the cupboard door, broke the mop, banged my knee on the step ladders, and generally had a terrible time of it. Tsk!
But still, my determination prevailed. And finally, at last, I got the job completed. With little, if any, self-satisfaction, I’m afraid. I’d made such an absurd and frustrating accident-prone mess of it!
I got the kettle on, and the cobs and cooked beef out to make the beef sarnies, and heard the sound of the yap-yap dog, so I looked outside, and there was a group of dog walkers, all maintaining a proper social distance from each other, while their dogs had the time of their lives.
The lovely little black yap-yapper never stopped wagging its tail. The other two black dogs were playing with the bigger brown woof-woof. I got such enjoyment out of just watching them, it cheered me up a smidge.
I took another photographicalisation from the balcony, of the end of Chestnut Walk. The red cars were back.
Fellow blogger Bill, from the US of A, told me he doesn’t see many red cars over there. Looking at the top overall popular colours in the U.S., for all vehicle categories, White – 19.3%, Silver – 18%, and Black – 12.4%. The UK, it’s White – 414,403, Blue – 373,728 and Red – 226,501. Not earth-shattering, but interesting?
The Intercom flashed and much to my delight, it was Hristina, the gorgeous, sweet-natured phlebotomy nurse come to take my blood. She was soon up in the flat. Having not seen any nurse for three weeks, and it being two-months that I’ve not seen Hristina, I was a tad disappointed in her being too busy for a proper chinwag. But, she still chatted while she took the blood, bless her! I could see she was pent up a smidge. She told me of how long she’d searched for a parking space, and had to park on double yellow lines and left a note on her windscreen saying she would be back in ten minutes. Poor thing. But the lift seeing her gave me, was most appreciated.
I got Computer Cameron back on, and the intercom sounded. It was Iceland’s delivery arriving.
The chap was soon at the door and left the bags in the hall for me.
I got the carriers into the kitchen and sorted the skimmed milk into two bags to spread the weight for Jenny. Left them outside the door and telephoned her to tell her they had arrived. She again she insisted I do not take them to her, and she came up to collect them Bless her little cotton socks!
Ah, I’ve meant to look up the origin of this phrase for ages, and I finally did it! My Dad used to use it. Not to me, I might add! Hahaha!
Here’s Google’s first answer: It comes not from the cotton material, but from George Edward Lynch Cotton. In 1858 as Bishop of Calcutta, Mr Cotton created schools for Eurasian children. As part of his philanthropy, he ordered dozens of pairs of socks to be sent over for the children, blessing them on arrival.
Second one: “Bless their little cotton socks!“: Used to express your affection for somebody because of something they have said or done. Now we know! Hehe!
Jenny came up and pressed the bells, collected the milk and nipped off after she’d put the payment in an envelope through the door. “Bless Her Cotton Socks!” All sorted.
As I was making up three beef rolls to have later, perhaps with a few oven-chips, the mind went off on one of its lucubrations. Not a Thought-Storm as such, because somehow I was ignoring the mind-musing and getting on with making the cobs. That came out wrong, I think? I put the cobs in a cool spot to keep until I have time to eat. Not the fridge, though, cause of Toothache Thomas.
Back on the computer again, and the ‘I only want to be with you’ tune of the door bells chimed up again. Heart-stopper, ILC, and Warden Obergruppenführeress Deana came in, to test the wristlet alarm with the control room. Another busy gal! But while I had the chance, I had to ask her to help with the medications, to find out about the prescriptions for me I only have three days meds left, and if necessary, to arrange collection for me. She said she’d find out and ring me later. I’d be lost without help on the phone, thanks, Deana!
Back on the computer. Not got much done, a bit busy even for me today.
I went on CorelDraw, and guess what? Pee’d off now! I decided as it was late anyway, to turn things off, and got on with the snack. I decided (Yes, sometimes I can make my mind up! Usually, with an erroneous, wrong, incorrect, and much altered and changed outcome. Tsk!
I made three of Big Baps up with butter and roast beef slices. Marmite flavoured cheese, tomatoes, fries and an apple pie. Taste rating result: 4/10, shame! The cobs were dry and bland, the Algerian tomatoes bitter and foul, and the apple pie all sugar, no fruit. But the Marmite cheese and fries were tasty.
Washed the pots, took the medications, and got down in c1968 recliner, to watch a football match from Euro 2016. Can’t remember at the moment who was playing, cause I fell asleep before it started.
Woke up four hours later, thinking it was morning, and got up. I should have known really, cause there were no demands for a wee-wee or the Porcelain Throne!
I decided to stay up anyway. I had a bash at trying to get the ankle-support strap on. No chance!
So I got this blog updated and sent off, then on Facebooking.
