Monday 13th January 2020
Italiano: Lunedì 13 Gennaio 2020
22:20hrs: I stirred into imitation life instantly panicking! I was being bombarded with worries, concerns and fear all at the same time it seemed.
- Mo’s funeral to attend, and I hope to enjoy saying my farewells to her, the biggest concern perhaps; for my travelling there in a taxi, means I cannot take the walker with me, and do not feel too confident in using the walking stick.
- I’m also fearing the affected right leg having a Neuropathic Schuhplattler flailing-about dance.
- The biggest worry is if I fall asleep at the Service! I have often so regularly nodded-off unintentionally: on buses, hospital and surgery waiting rooms, even stood up one time.
- Then there’s the Bank Manager who needs to see me! How can I get to the branch as requested? Time is the killer. Tuesday I have the Medicine Team and blood nurse coming to see me.
- I have no daily prescription medications left at all now. How can I get to the chemist to find out what’s going on?
- Then there’s the bleeding between my legs. And a list as long as the Magna Carta I want to discuss with the Doctor…
I’m not in good shape mentally at all. I do want anything to disturb or bother my devotions and cheerios for Mo.
Eventually, giving up on finding out what I can do to ease the situation, and ended up deciding I need help. Huh! I’ve been through this before, there is none available. Perhaps the Samaritans can help? Humph!
I was so annoyed at myself for thinking like this. I tried to put things other than getting to Mo’s funeral, get that over and enjoyed, then try to get the other stuff sorted. I might try to ask my ILC Warden Deana if she can help by phoning the Bank, no, that will be too early – Crap! If she can call the chemist for me, and the doctors, I will try to get to see her this morning before the taxi arrives, but time will be tight… everything seems against me! I’m getting even more despondent than when I woke up!
I searched my muddled brain for a glimmer of hope somewhere and realised that if I can’t get the medications, then there’s no point in worrying about the bank. ‘Shudder, going bonkers here!’ HELP!
The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, blessedly! I forced my way painfully out of the £300 second-hand recliner, Arthur Itis letting me know he was there, got on my feet, grabbed the stick and off to the wet room. Well, a surprisingly acceptable session. No bleeding from the rear end, or Little Inchies fungal lesion, and far less to be evacuated.
I got in the kitchen, but of course, there were no blisters of medications available for me to take. So I rooted through the medical drawer in search of any old tablets to take. I had plenty of Warfarin, some paracetamol and found some old Simvastin and Ramipril that I took, but they were both well out of date, but still, what 
choice did I have. I found two beta-blockers that were even more out of use-by-date and took one.
Not the best of situations. I’m worried about myself now, Hehehe! Is there any help to be had? HELP!
I took a photo from the kitchen window, almost mechanically. A view showing the lights going down Winchester Street.
I got updating yesterday’s blog. It took a while, cause bothe Saccades Sandra and the fingers and right-side neurotransmitter transmissions to the brain were playing up, and typing was an ever-correcting nightmare. But I got there in the end and posted off the diary.
After going on the WordPress Reader, putting some photos on Pinterest and going on the TFZer Facebook, I needed to return for the third visit to the Porcelain Throne! This time it was so different. A small deposit, much bleeding from Harold Haemorrhoid and Little Inchies Lesion. Not so good! Had a clean-up and medicalisationing session, and made another mug of tea.
Started this post going up to here. Then had to make some graphics up on CorelDraw for later use. I even got a template up ready for tomorrow.
I got the Bank, and Chemist number, just in case for Deana when I go down.
Then the stand-up ablutions tended to. Again there were a good few dropsies, cuts, bleeding and a couple of knocks when the peripheral neuralgia gave me an energetic involuntary performance of a Neuropathic Schuhplattler, flail-about dance! I’d say the Sock-Glide struggle was a draw. A couple of little nicks shaving. After the washing was all done, I set about applying Daktacort, Germoloid, Savlon, Corticosteroid, Varesil creams and Fenbid-Forte gel. Eye-wash, nasal-unblocker and Saccades Sandra spray. Good job I started the scrub-up earlier than usual!
I got the handwashing done and hung to dry. The new long-sleeved brown t-shit was washed for the first time – and it is now black! Still, it is thicker and warmer, although far shorter than the expensive one. Maybe if I’d ordered black shirts, they might have turned brown when I washed them? Hehehe! The delights of Amazon, eh!
I got the taxi monies in the pocket with my super G8 mobile. Treats put in the trolley and made my way down with the hopes of Deana being able to assist me with my problems of the bank, and the prescriptions. Or rather lack-of medications, by phone for me, so I do not mishear, anything said.
I took the black bags to the waste chute on the way down. In the lift, to the ground floor, thought the link passage swipe door and along to the end and the Independent Living Coordinators holding and interrogation office. Dropped off the box and knocked on the door, no answer. So, back up to get my coat on, but I forgot to put my hearing aids in. I decided to go back up again, to drop off the trolley and put in the aids, then. This I did, and down again.
There was no reply to my knocking, so I wandered around a bit in the foyer. Angela and Roy came along, and I nattered to them, and tried the door again, this time, it was answered. I told Pole-Dancer, Warden and ILC of my problems. She asked for more details and gave both the Bank and the Chemist a ring, but neither were answering, too early I suppose. With my going Mo’s funeral, ask if the chemist could leave any medications here in the office. That is if he came out while I was here. But no, the girls would be at other flats on stand-by duty to cover for holidays. Said she’d ring them later. So, I’m none the wiser if I will be getting the medications or I’ll just have to snuff-it, mainly due to having no Bisoprolol (Beta-blockers), Simvastatin or Codeine left. Is no one bothered? Silly question, of course, they aren’t! I’m such a fool!
I was on my way back upstairs, when Gaynor appeared, sorting out the taxi and passengers for the trip to Mo’s Do! She said there was no time to go back for the hearing aids as the mini-cab was due any minute. I must have misread the sign on the board, I thought it was for 09:25hrs. As I said, I’m such a fool! So I stayed down with the others.
We went outside to wait, but the taxi was late coming. We were all under the control of Gaynor ♥. He looked after us and got us safely to the parlour. I took a few pictures while we waited outside.
Coddled by Gaynor (I liked that!) we arrived at the funeral parlour and had timed it to perfection. Many other tenants were in attendance with Mo’s family members.
Once inside, the remembrance started. But I could not hear a single word, but this was good. For it let me cast my mind back to memories I was lucky enough to share with Mo at the flats, without hindrance. A personal thing. Her choice of music was perfect! ‘Elvis, The Wonder of You’. And Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’. Perfick!
As soon as the whole thing was over, it went so quickly, and I felt good. As we got in the taxi (I was nurtured and fitted in the seat belt by Gaynor), my mind started to fret over the medications again. The talk was light-hearted, with mentions of sadness for Mo’s departure, no not morbidly.
When we arrived back at Winwood Court, the two gals dropped me of (I was assisted out of the taxi by Gaynor!) and shot off to the Sherwood for the drinkies. I had to make my way to the ILCs office to try and find out what had taken place concerning the pharmacist. But no one was in, they had probably gone to the ST Anns block already. My stomach churned a bit with frustration and not knowing if the prescriptions will be coming today or not! Off course, Deana may have tried to ring me, but we all turned off our mobiles for Mo’s service of course. Then again, she (Deana) is a busy gal.
So, I walked back again to the Woodthorpe Court and up into the flat. No messages or notes in the door about anything. My heart sank a little. The inconscient fretting grew stronger, as less and less time would be available for any corrective attempts if the stuff isn’t going to arrive! More natural to just pass-away, in my sleep, I hope!
I got the mobile on charging-up. Then I could not find the longer one of the two wooden walking sticks? I recall using it when I took the first load of black bags to the chute. But surely I would not have walked back without it, I couldn’t have? Could I?
With me having adopted a Panic-Mood-Mode, even then, I have the two other sticks, no need to have fretted. But I found myself worrying, and got the other wooden stick and went to look in the rubbish-chute room, in case I had left it in there, which I knew I wouldn’t have, but still hobbled to check it out! Sanity Alert! (Klaxon sounding in my head)
I could not believe how calm and accepting I felt while I was out, and now I’ve turned back into a pessimist, misanthrope and depressed-worryguts again! I hate myself when this Quick-Change for the worse happens! Have to put up with though, until I hopefully hear something positive from the chemist and or Bank. If I don’t, well, it doesn’t stand thinking about. HELP!
I started up update this blog. The goodbye to Mo and kind help from Gaynor was a pleasure to recall and write about, but when I got back to the anxieties of the unknown factors from the chemist stuff, it was hard, frustrating, error-ridden and depressing.
I put the kettle on to make a brew. And split some hot water over me pouring out the tea. A sort of acceptance of failure, combined with guilt, meant I didn’t even swear or jump really. I may have said to myself; ‘What d’you expect, good luck, help? Idiot!’
I slowly, calmly got the Savlon cream from the wet-room and cold-watered the hand before applying the cream. Then, Shaking Shaun arrived, (As if to teach me a lesson), and I dropped the bloody tube, straight down the toilet, Splosh! It never touched the sides on its way down! I hope this querulous-neurosis, mental or psychological agitation, derangement or whatever, is only temporary! Humph!
I took three pictures of the brew while making the second cuppa, I’ve called the three of them, Nottinghamian’s Close-knit Community.
I called at Josie’s flat to give her the Limoncello I forgot to provide her with Sunday’s meal. But there was no answer, so I returned it to the fridge. Then made a brew again and got on with this post once more.
I’ll nip down to see if Deana is available again, and has any news from the chemists for me. Hello, it’s gone awfully dark outside suddenly. Ah, the rain is drizzling.
Ah-well, off I go. Deana not there. Not answering her mobile. I’ve no chance of getting anything sorted now. Grumble-Sodit-Blast! – Crabs and Grobblecraps!!!
Got the nosh ready. I should have enjoyed it, but with the worry over the medications, I didn’t. Rating 5/0.
Put thing to soak in the bowl. Moved the handwashing, the new ‘was-brown-now-black long-sleeved t-shirt was still wet. Put in on the airer.
I did my best to stay awake, watched telly, any programme that had subtitles, cause I didn’t want to miss hearing the intercom or door in case the medications arrived late. Huh, they didn’t come!
I even got up and had another search around in case I did have another blister-pack week that had fallen behind the stack of drawers. But there was none there. Eventually, I fell asleep, the worries of the day had gone for a while anyway.
A few hours later, the door chimes woke me from my half-sleep, I struggled to my feet and wobbled to answer it. Thinking at last! The tablets had arrived… but no! It was Josie returning her plate tray etc. to me from her Sunday meal. I’d asked her not to in case of waking me, but obviously, the gal had forgotten about this. I’m not sure what we said, being half-awake, but feel we chattered.
Tray and things taken to the kitchen, and I returned to the recliner, I wanted, now I had been woken, to stay awake longer, just in case the medications did arrive. But couldn’t.
They didn’t, of course!
With my concentration so bad at the moment, all I need is any of the following to kick-off: Saccades Sandra, Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun or Neuropathic Nigel’s neurotransmitter failure to start, and it may never get finished. My Koyaanisqatsi, lack of proper education and knaifatic upbringing is handicap enough on there own, without the unwanted or asked for ailments helping. Humph! 
I made a start on the updating as soon as I’d had made a tasty cuppa of Glennghettie tea, wash and took the medications. 
Got the nosh sorted. The place looked like a battleground by the time I’d got it served up. Dropped saucepan, spilt over bowel, scattered garden peas, blood from cutting the finger, crumbs… Humph! 
Washed the pots and did the handwashing.
Not bringing in (or needing) the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-wee-Bucket) last night, I went to the wet room for the wee-wee. And, was caught out, after all the weak efforts of the previous few weeks, by the LHNPOS (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Pain-Or-Sensation) wee-weeing that exploded out! The colouration was a shock too. Or I should say, the lack of colour was highly-noticeable! Mmm? I started a sneezing bout afterwards, no connection I’m sure. I bet that went down well with the neighbours, Oh dear! I had to clean up bounced back wee-wee from the jet-like evacuation, and 
I got the kettle on, took the medications and then a photo through the unwanted, dislike, thick-framed, light & view-blocking, can’t get to, to clean them new kitchen window. 
I got on with the updating of the stuck-indoors Sunday post. It didn’t take me too take long for two reasons. One, there were so few photographs to use that needed amending. Two, the finger-ends peripheral neuropathy and autonomic nerves were rarely giving me any bother! I could not help going into Appreciative- Smug-Mode! 
I made another brew, this time of the superb extra-strong Glengettie tea. 
I checked last night’s handwashing that was hanging up above the sink, and above the Einstein-needed to understand how to operate (For old senile sods like me, this is the last type of heater we needed fitting!) wall storage heater. I suppose that decisions on which to buy and install, depending on back-handers at the top? They really are like the intercom system, just too confusing to use! They have tiny buttons we cannot see or read, let alone risk pressing them. Leaving us with no option but to just leave them on, and feed the greed of the Utility Company bosses? Humph! I got carried away a bit there, sorry.
I moved the handwash clothing around. I and had to carefully put the jammie-bottoms on the much-fell over, bent twisted but still working tubular airer. And have to keep moving them around to get some benefit from the machine. Which in turn helped me find where I’d left the new £15 picker-upperer, as I noticed it hanging on the corner of the airer. Haha! 
Closed down and set out again. Down in the lift. The corridor fire escape door was still ajar as I passed by. No one in the ILC’s room. On and through to Winchester Court. Doris and other ladies sat in the foyer. I stayed with them a while, chinwagged, then out to the bus stop. Where I spotted a visit from the Ossifers of the law car parked near the turning island.
Christine, Cyndy… oh, about fifteen of us Winwoodonians gathered. Where more gossiping about nothing and everything took place. Insults exchanged, sarcastic gems noted, and the world was put to rights. Hee-hee! I took a photograph of Winchester Court from the beneath it.
Then a photograph of Winwood and Woodthorpe Courts from the bus stop. The City Bound bus arrived, and only a few of us need it, all the other members of the gang waited for the Sherwood, Arnold and Bestwood L9. The lady driver was kind and waited patiently for me to get settled in the side-saddle seat, and checked if I was all seated before moving off ♥. 
Not much exercise here then. The place was busy, but not very noisy as it usually is. Maybe some of the shoppers, who walked into me, shoulder charged me, pushed trolleys into me, drove over my foot, etc. were still hung-over? I wished I had a breathalyser I could have produced, for a bit of fun! ” Being in charge of a shopping-trolley while above the legal limit or unfit through drink”? Or maybe, “Careless Shopping (Shopping without due care and attention)”, or “Shopping without Insurance or an MOT”? Hehehe! 
Sherwood Vale bus stop without any problems, by which time Dizzy Dennis had left me altogether. (Manic-Smile-Of-Relief-Adopted) When I got down the hill to the bus stop, I thought I might have a job seeing the bus arrive. The, oh, so cold sun and vehicles blocked or hindered my view. 
And for tonight’s nosh, some mushroom pate, that I plan to go on a Sourdough baguette and small cobs, with sliced sea-salted tomatoes, with beetroot and garden peas. Which I set about making. Baguettes and cobs in the oven. I got the other stuff on the plate ready. 
I woke up, probably instigated by Shaking Shaun in the first place. He continued to give me the shuddering-shakes for a few minutes, as I tried to grasp for a grip on some sanity. The awareness and control of my contumacious, recusant and largely uninterested mind, fought against any more input. 
The session’s leading descriptive words would be; Massive, Painful, Solid, Flesh-tearing, Bloody and yet quick! The colossal amount of evacuated product was the most surprising factor
I did afterwards though, well, a wee-wee. I went to the WC for this one, taking the bucket with me, to be emptied and disinfected.
I made a start on this publication and then nipped back in to try flushing the WC again. It seems to have cleared the Dongfeng-41 (DF-41, CSS-X-10) ICBM sized evacuation for me. I took a photo of the pins while I was in there. Still the same, pale but with fewer lumpinesses, and far less varicose and spider veins showing. 
I got ready, and off I poddled with the new three-wheeler, the one with lousy brakes, on the new Winwood Court photographicalisation walkabout. I took a snap of the electronic notice sign outside the lift, catching it just as the picture message was changing. The light rain stayed on all day.
The main noticeboard I perused. 
I went through the swipe door, into the welcoming warmth of the Winwood Court link corridor. 
has not been kind, but, if I last long enough, I hope to sit out there doing my crossword puzzles, with a flask of tea in the sunshine. This made me wonder, ‘Where did I put the flask? 
into Winwood Court proper, keeping an eye out for any other tenants to trap and chinwag with. Hehehe! 
her smiling face. This lowered my spirits a little. There were no people about in there either. 
took a picture in the lift as it went up. It was heartwarming to see the facilities provided for the extra-care residents. They also have a podiatrist on-site visits as well. 
loud enough for most people to hear. The mechanics are silent when the lift moves, no shuddering and scraping noises like Woodthorpe Courts lifts either. As I exited the lift, into the wonderful Sky Lounge, I took this photo. It really is a delightful autonomous 
environment and comfortable area to visit. Not that anyone was in there again. It was so clean and attractive; but abandoned, unwanted and ignored by those it was built for. I have only seen two people, at the same time, on all my six visits since it was opened. Then, I remembered what 
time of year it was, I’m quick sometimes. Hehe! I moved towards the press-button exit door, but I diverted to take a snap of Woodthorpe Court through the window first.
I pictured Winchester Court at the end of the complex. By then, the rain was soaking into my coat, so I returned back inside out of the light, soak-you-through rain.
lobby. 
Ah, there it was. 
It started, it was crap, I fell asleep, and stayed akip for six hours! Great! 
00:25hrs: The first thing that broke into my muddled-chaotic mind this morning was that ever-present humming, drowning wind-like noise that surrounds the entire block of flats, and how extremely noisier it was! Grr! 
for several minutes until things started moving of their own accord – then the pain level rose, but there was no controlling the action. Gritted my teeth, grimaced a bit, and finally a splash-causing ‘Kerplonk-Thunk’, and blessed relief! Phew! Then the cleansing and sanitising and medicating had to be done, off course. Bleeding from Little Ichies fungal lesion, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids! No matter how far I get behind with things today, nor how bad the weather will be, and having to struggle with two-hourly buses, I will have to get out today, and get some more Haemorrhoid cream! We’ll see? 
The damned annoying whining, droning noise from outside seemed to be getting even louder now! I went to make another brew. And the imitation Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance was most involuntarily performed, and the Polyneuropathy caused me to drop the walking stick and mug of just made tea! It went over the floor and the tall brush & dustpan, so cleaned up and returned after making another mug of brew, to the computer to make a start on this post. 
The ablutions went phenomenally well! One, I say One cut shaving, no damage doing the teggies, a few dropsies as is to be expected with the myasthenia gravis problem being so much worse this morning, no sock-glide injuries and just the one belting of the elbow on the door frame. (I’m getting a little too regular with doing this lately) Smug-Mode-Temprarilty-Adopted!
hope the food comes in time for me to get the L9 bus at 10:32hrs. If not, then so be it, I’ll stay in, or walk down to Sherwood just for the haemorrhoid cream. 
Mostly Christmas treats for others. And nibbles for me, including seedless red grapes, savoury bites, chocolate nuts and crisps. 
I made a brew of tea, took a picture on the view outside, and updated this post a bit. 
I dropped off at the bottom of Hockley and went to the Asian Food store. It’s always best to go there first, cause their aisles are filled with goods and very narrow, I had to keep collapsing the trolley to get through to have a nosey around. Coming out with some crispy seaweed snacks, and what I went there for in the first place, a bottle of the delicious fire-brand strong tasty Marca Pina cooking vinegar. Very nice when added to mushroom, don’t you know.
I paid up, and out onto Upper Parliament Street, where I took this photograph, to the left along the road. Showing the street musician, who attends this spot every weekend it seems, not that it was producing much interest from the passing Nottinghamian shoplifters, yet. 
As I turned into Long Row, the first signs of the Christmas Fayre appeared. The famous little helter-skelter, not exciting enough for kids nowadays, was not doing much in the way of trade again. 
AT the bottom of King and Queen Streets, the Ice Mountian Slide was busy.
I poddled up Queen Street and onto Parliament Street, and took this picture of the sensibly well-wrapped up Nottinghamian’s going miserably about there Saturday ventures. 
The meal turned out superbly. For me anyway, others might not have appreciated it as much as like-wot-I-did. For I had overcooked it a tad, but I caught it in time before anything got burnt, just extremely well done, which was perfect! A taste-rating of 9.2/10 was given! Yummy! 
With a sense of unrealism, I made my way back to the kitchen and got the kettle back on, and made a brew, getting the medications out ready. A feeling of vagueness lingered within me. My thoughts were all over the place now, mind-blasts peppering the brain, unanswered questions to the fore… Oh, dearie me! 
I tried taking a picture of the view from the unwanted, light & view-blocking, thick-framed new kitchen windows, with the unreachable for old farts panes of glass to be cleaned. I tried the Nightime Panorama option on the Nikon camera this time. Then, I got the medications imbibed and off to the computer to get the updating of Sunday’s post done. 
Many hours spent graphicalisationing, during which, first, the delightfully attractive, twinkle-eyed, desirable, breathtakingly sultry-looking, 5’4″, perfectly-bodied, beautiful Polish phlebotomy nurse arrived to take some blood for the INR Warfarin test. The old heart, even if it is plastic and metal, fluttered! We had a natter while she removed the haemoglobin, I handed her some of the Lemon Wafers, she said goodbye and shot off, leaving a Nottingham Pensioner, a tad sad at her going. 
Back to the CorelDrawing. An hour or so later, my Iceland food delivery arrived. Items short delivered, monies to be returned to my account within nine-working days… Mmm! Still, seeing the food made my mind up what to have for my early din-dins.
Back to the CorelDrawing. Many, many WSS wee-wees later, and hours later, the time arrived for the nosh to be made. I had a ready-made meal, the Iceland bean & sausage casserole, adding some tomato and bacon cooking sauce part-way through cooking, and was eaten with far too many slices of the Milk Roll bread I’d defrosted. I put the extra sauce into the food, cause there seemed an awful lot of red peppers in it this time, to cool it down a bit. It wasn’t bad at all — flavour rating, 7/10. 
at Winwood Heights. I imagine that one day, either a bus will hit a vehicle parked half-on the kerb and blocking room at the buses turning island. Or someone will get knocked over having to walk with their trolley-guides on the road, cause they cannot get by the cars parked on, and already breaking-up the new tarmac pavement. But what else can they do? An accident, injury or death might encourage someone to tackle the issue, or even identify, recognise that it exists? I mean, let’s face it, it is an old people’s prison… erm, complex. Hehe! 
I was caught out when I woke up, the late sun, although heatless, had blossomed out, the rain had stopped. The most noticeable thing was the legs had lost nearly all their Clopidgrel, bruises, lumps. welts and blotches! Fair enough, they had started the fluid retentioning again. But it was nice to see them without the blemishes, blood-papsule and ecchymosis scars! It’s really incredulous, inconceivable, how things have changed so suddenly! Mind you, the cramps are still there. Haha!
Followed by the call to the Porcelain Throne! Resulting in my confirmation of Trotsky Terence’s return! So, from agonistic blockage mode, to almost liquid, overnight! Uncomfortable and lots of cleaning up needed! Tsk! 
The morning Mind-Blast started as I moved the handwashing to the airer. 
The Morrison order arrived. Pleasant delivery man. I got the bags into the kitchen, ready for sorting out. I’d ordered some bits prepared for Christmas pressies. Yes, I’m hoping to last long enough for the festive season. Next year I might not be so confident. Hehe!
I got the fridge stuff away first. 
up and about when I go out at 09:00hrs, or thereabouts. 
The Bestwood bound bus arrived and all the clan, bar Mary and me, got off in Sherwood. I handed Mary her cream cake and nibbles. We were soon in Arnold and dropped off at the Asda store on Front Street. 
Back at the flats, I got off last as is usual for me, and had a quick few words of greetings with some of the clan getting onto the bus. 
thought I’d take another on as I chased after the gal. I think it came out alright. I like her trolley! 
I got in the flat and put the nosh away.
I got the potato out of the slow cooker and mashed it all up with some Leicester cheese, butter and a little salt. 
aid in the drying process. I got settled to eat the nosh, and it was grand, most of it tasted lovely. Sugar snap peas, sliced boiled eggs, tomatoes, Cox’s apple, beetroot, and the beef offcuts. The beef was the only thing that was not very good at all. It tasted like plastic. So, only a 6.5/10 for taste. 
I opted to go and get the handwashing wrung-out and hung. Argh! A toe-stubbing of a particularly sensitive nature was taken en route. What a Klutz of a Schmendrick! 
I hung the shirt above the heater. Got the kettle on and took the medications. While doing this, I decided I’d have BBQ seasoned rice and bacon for the meal later. Then I got on with updating the Friday post. Which, with many, (All of the INHBBT variety) wee-wees, and stoppages for a false alarm Porcelain visit. I’m nervous after yesterdays blockage. 
I got the peas in the saucepan, but unfortunately, I left the heat on and not realised! I went back to computerisationing for about two hours, and the smell of burning, made me jumped up and rush to the kitchen… 
Stubbing the same toe again on the way! Grrr! 
The saucepan had in it a grand selection of my favourites for me to feast on! Uncle Ben’s BBQ flavour rice. Burnt until they had black spots on the fresh garden peas! Plenty of tomato slicer-sliced brown Sicilian tomatoes. Smoked streaky bacon rashers. 
silverskin onions, & some tip-top, but expensive Morrison’s 45% balsamic vinegar. 
As I was cleaning the equipment, I was like a proper deipnosophist; but talking only to myself. (Well I would, with no one else about. Hehe!) The subjects mused-over were of no particular value, importance or even interest.
Not to mention the NCH’s plumbers giving me the floods, and my having to throw away my clothing from the soaked-through airing cupboard and buy new ones. 
The new intercom set-up, which came with instruction photographs that were different than the actual ones in layout. 
The NCH bloke, who filled the air vent, left, I went out to the Doctors for my INR Warfarin blood test. When I returned, the foam had run down the wall and covered my electric socket, and turned as hard as iron and browny-red. Now the plug outlet can’t be used, for fear of electrocution! Even murderers don’t have to live with this threat!
