Category: Dizzy spells

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++ THE ANATOMY OF INSANITY ++
So many folk bear insanity, unknowingly…
Some will turn a blind eye, denyingly,
Recognising insanity shows not negativity…
Welcoming it shows a certain peculiarity,
It’s known as bonkersness, characteristically,
It can test your brain’s battery and vulnerability,
Robbing you of your perceptivity & sensibility,
First, it tries your short-term memory…
Long-term stuff, will have some accessibility…,
Naturally, this is only initially,
But it gets worse when you get near 90,
I’ll not mention the body’s lack of controllability,
Some folks can get an amygdalotomy…
But only royalty, politicians & the Oligarchy,
But it costs way too much for the likes of you & me,
Don’t call it madness, but instead, cerebropathy,
It starts for most affected people, grimly…

Your loss of memory will come under self-scrutiny,
“I forgot I’d made that cup of tea!”
“Where was I going? Ooops, I was going for a pee.”
“Damn it, left the hot tap running, silly me!”
“Didn’t get to the bog on time – diarrhoea, messy!”
“Missing words off, can’t spell, missing an apostrophe!”
“Thank heavens I paid a fortune for Gammarly!”
“Forgetting where you were going in the hallway!”
“Missing appointments, with neurololgy…”
“The dentist, optician, and Doctor Finlay”
“The Bank, Phlebotomy & Cardiology!”
“Burnt my dinner, no food for Inchie!”
“Why am I in the lift?” You ask bemusedly,”
“Fridge freezer door left open, you curse angrily!”
“Toenail cutting? £35 quid it costs me”,
“Huh, cartilage bother, arthritis, & acne!”
“Cathetered, cancer & Peripheral Neuropathy”,
“Seizures, tumbles, dead hearing aid battery”.

05:00hrs: I shot awake and checked out how I was mentally. Not bad, so no seizures suffered this morning. I grudgingly, unwillingly, hesitantly and cautiously moved the legs off of the bed. Great, Cartilage Chloe & Carol were no bother. Dizzy Dennis, Lost-Balance-Belinda, Jerking-Neck-Nigel, and Reflux Roger, along with many others, were being kind to me this Friday morning. But… Anne Gyna and Toothache Tiffany were a different kettle of fish. Both continued to bother me intermittently throughout the day.

Still, you can’t expect to win them all, can yer? I took Codeine before even taking off the night catheter pouch, such was the pain from Tiffany’s toothache.

The pouch is removed and left for the Carer to assess the grading colour upon arrival. Not much urine was passed last night.

I put the Codeine box back on the crowded Carers’ desk, and saw how dark it was outside. I meandered to the kitchen to take a snap of the view.
Not a good effort, then again, I’ve been making lots of them lately.

A sudden movement and a gurgling from the innards sent me, with some haste, (I nearly dropped the walking stick), to the wet room and the . Just as well I didn’t delay getting there. Within seconds of my bottom settling on the plastic seat of the raised toilet… Spurt, splutter, splatter… all over and done in seconds! 

I got the computer on, and after a jumpy start-up, I began updating yesterday’s blog.
My typing skills had gone to pot, or rather, the neurotransmitters were not getting the message to the brain when I pressed a key. This lasted for about half an hour. I was on the verge of giving up until things cleared, then the problem dissipated.

Carer Ejaz arrived. I think he said this is his last visit until next week. Sad that!
He soon had the prescription medications issued, disinfectanted the leg wounds, and put the diabetic sock on for me. Not here long today, I think he has got an extra job on, which he may be doing all over the weekend. Ejaz got all his tasks done!

I pressed on with updating the Thursday blog, despite the neurotransmitters failing and many mistakes being made. I got it finished and posted it off.

After a while, I meandered onto the balcony for a breather and took a snap of the end car park through the glass on the terrace.

I came back inside and updated the thingamibob calendar clock, then made a brew of Co-op 99 Tea. 

Carer Ahmed, Peptac.

Got things ready for the big wash, teggies, shower & shave, followed by medicationings for various parts of my body. Not a pretty sight!

Afternoon clouds. In 
beautiful formations.

As I was taking the following photograph of the sky a few minutes later, it was as if my energy batteries had all suddenly died on me. I did not return to the computer again. I instantly felt so all-in and drained.
I closed down the computer. (In the morning, realising that I’d not saved the CorelDraw or WordPress to file – Humph!), I had no choice other than to just sit down and sleep. That was the plan anyway. But falling asleep, I’d have thought, would be automatic, in the state I was. But No!
Well, falling asleep was easy, but staying asleep, impossible at that time.
It was terribly frustrating, that when I woke, each time I woke up, I felt a little like I do after having a seizure, but I don’t think I had any.

Carer Nimra woke me up upon her arrival and asked me to get up to see how I felt. So, I did.
Cartilage Carole was all over the place as I meandered into the balcony…
I scuffed my left leg against the wheelchair leg rest, swearing a smidge as I bruised the leg on .
Looking at the photo, which Carer Nimra took, there appeared to be three minor bruises. She said it matched the layout of the metal leg supports that I had clouted it against.
Sorry that I got up now. Hehehe! Nimra was tired after her long day. I bade her good luck and wished her well as she departed after giving me the medications and ointmentated my legs & knees.

I sat down again, in search of sleep. But after the faux pas with the leg, I just couldn’t nod off.

So, I put the TV on to see if the adverts would help me in my desperate search for sleep. They didn’t!

I realised I had time to make a meal before the last Carer calls and eat it. I pondered making an easy meal. I decided a tinned dinner cooked in the microwave would be the best idea. I put a can of vegetable stew and an Irish stew in a microwave bowl, and added half a bottle of Kung-Po sauce, some Bovril and chopped up some water-chestnuts and added them into the microwaveable dish of delight.
Belatedly adding a drop of extra-mild peri-peri sauce with lemon juice. Danish wholemeal bread to be dunked! A great mix of sweet & sour flavours!
Delightfully tasty meal, that I really enjoyed! While searching for the Gung Po photo, I stumbled upon a picture I took many years ago in Skegness. This took me back, evoking both good and bad memories.

I washed the pots, or rather, I left them soaking in the bowl in the sink. And climbed into the bed, but for some reason could not get comfortable, and gave up, got out and into the I settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite recorded, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV.
I drifted of within seconds, I even felt the joy of it while sleeping… but, 🎺the “Oh, Suzana tune burst forth to wake me up from the intercom.”
Carer Mizra arrived. As I got up to press the admit button in the hallway, Calamity! !
Gave way, and I ended up back in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner.
“Oh, Suzana” tune had stopped, and by the time I got myself up. Mizra was ringing the buzzer and came into the room. Mizra took off the diabetic socks for me and issued a painkiller and some Peptac.

I collapsed back into the £300, second-hand, musty, Haemorrhoid Harold Testing, cringingly beige, crumb-covered, not-working, rickety recliner, again in a desperate search of Sweet Morpheous.

After an hour or so, I drifted off and started dreaming again. It wasn’t a nice one, but details are escaping me as I write this. I was once again woken up, this time by the telephone ringing.
An inebriated-sounding voice demanded to speak with Allison. I pointed out that there is no Allison here, telling him that he had got the wrong number. He started to talk, telling me not to *muck* about and put Allison on! I rang off.
My mind was all over the place now.
I decided a mug of tea might help, and toddled off to the kitchenette to make a brew. Taking this snap of the evening view.

Back in the £300, used, c1968, dirty-beige-coloured, not-working, creaky recliner.
Sleep-Seeking!
After an hour or so, and on the verge of going potty, I had to rise for the umpteenth time, to utilise the yet again!
Thankfully, the evacuation was over in seconds. Unfortunately, the cleaning took so long that I’ve forgotten what day & time it was. Not that I was bothered either way – after called on me, and from then on, nothing was a bother or a hassle. Even when I got back to the c1968, non-operational, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, germ-breeding, Harold Haemorrhoid-Testing, sickenly beige-coloured recliner. The powers of my hero  are incalculable. Nothing had changed; I was still physically shattered, tired, weary and still struggled desperately to get some sleep.
Did I care after Horis arrived? Nope!
But I wished he had called on me earlier!

A PRECIOUS HORIS 10%

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Dad thought Mother a bit of a load,
Cause I was confused between load and lode,
As I was with mowed and mode…
Also, concerning cold, code and chode,
Bathrobe, overload, overroad, and outmode,
Forward, forbade and forebode,
Clawed, clewed, conclude and concrewed,
Dad was more concerned with what we owed,
I never showered, nor was I empowered,
Mother didn’t smile, but she glowered…
Debt collectors; now those she feared,
Arguing, fighting is all I heard,
Then be warned not to say a word!
The violence, in my brain, was intaglioed,
Fear of their hatred was installed,
Life seemed to be ornimentalled,
Dad paid the bills, Mother would be bailed,
It’s no wonder I grew up befuddled,
Years later, I got Dementia installed,
Not surprisingly, I was mentally bepommelled,
As a lad, I was socially bethralled…
In adulthood, I’ve been shot, mugged & burgled,
Sacked, made bankrupt, and vitriolised,
Now, in old age, I finally realised…
My usage of language is unsyllabled,
Looking back at the choices made, I’m appalled
My Whoopsiedangling was unparalleled,
Chopping my own confidence, it was felled,
My cerebrum and I are unreconciled,
If we ever were a unit, thoroughly combined,
Now the seizures, these I don’t mind,
But the aftereffects can drive me wild,
They recovering can leave me unbeguiled,
Physically at the mildest, unbalanced,
Mentally, thoughts are hampered & impeded,
The filling catheter pouch may not be noted.
The flow-back pains can be noticed,
But bending too early to get it emptied,
It’s dangerous, & shouldn’t be preempted
You realise you shouldn’t have absquatulated,
Until back in control and reacclimated,
After recovering from a mini-seizured,
Can any more ailments be accommodated?
November; I’m due for an operation, to be trephined,
At least the procedure to be assessed & defined,
High-Mood Horis is currently in my mind…
I hope Depression Daruis leaves him unthwarted,
There’s one other thought that should be reported…
I’m hoping Starmer gets hung, drawn & quartered!
Can a thought like that ever be bettered?
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05:30hrs: I’d been lying here in bed for a few minutes trying to get back to sleep again. I pondered for a second or two on what or why I had shot awake with such violent vigour. Had I stayed there, it would have become apparent, but unfortunately, I almost hopped off of the bed, removed the nocturnal night pouch from the day bag, and rose on my feet and legs… I shouldn’t have done that, and should also have known what was about to happen. But I didn’t then; it all became apparent the moment I lost my balance and crumpled to the floor. Hitting my head on the way down was of little hindrance.

My self-lamabsting was. How I didn’t recognise that I was in a seizure when I burst back into grim wakefulness is beyond me. Then, to add idiocy to the dumbness, I even stood up so quickly. 
What a nitwit, doofus & idiot I am! 
So, being as I’d landed with my back against the back of the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner, and was not injured or in pain, I stayed down there for a few minutes until the brain rebooted on its own accord.

The best bit about this tumble was where I had it. Perfect place to use the recliner and bed in combination, to get myself upright again. And although a painful exercise, I was soon feeling a lot better, lost some of my inner temper, and greeted the welcome, but unexpected arrival of ! Who was more than a blessing in disguise. He helped me not worry about the Porcelain Throne pain. There was plenty of that in this morning’s lengthy battle to force things into action from the rear-end. Each of the four depth-charge-shaped clumps that evacuated took it in turn to escape.

I washed, then made a brew of Detox tea, which I left to steep for 20 minutes, before going to change the clock calendar dates. But didn’t. I opened CorelDraw, and the oddest things seemed to be happening. 
When I loaded last night’s photographs and attempted to save them, I received odd messages indicating that the system cannot save this file due to a link with a Swiss font being attached. I couldn’t understand the details that followed, but I chose option two, and they saved. After saving a bout eight, the message stopped coming up each time I saved. Then, on about the 14th, it came back on again. This time, I foolishly chose the left one. The warning came up, and I had to select the following ten final photographs. Later on, it saved without a screen for me to select saving options from. I hope this will not change the blog when it’s been published.

Now I am panicking a little. I’d forgot about the Detox tea with the CorelDraw problems. So into the kitchen to have it cold, and…
Muggins here had left the hot tap running. Another day without hot water, a shower, a shave… Grrr!

Then, of back to the wet room for Porcelain Throne visit number two. Another marathon job, but without the assistance of , proved to be more challenging work and seemed a lot more painful. The evacuating torpedo, a beast of a thing, clunked the porcelain loudly when it finally escaped the clutches of Constipation Conrad. So hard & noisily, I feared it might have cracked the basin!

Handsome, male-model-like Carer Ejaz arrived. Did a good job changing the catheter bag, issuing medications, and applying cream to the legs and feet. Graded the nighttime catheter pouches wee-wee as a 4½ on the NHS Richter scale. Ejaz checked the use-by dates in the refrigerator for me. None is out of date. A good lad.

I should have put this photo on the right in yesterday’s blog. I think that I didn’t. It is of a J Sainsbury pack of Triple Cook Chips, Taste the Difference 400g £3.25. It looks like a Special Offer of some free diseased chips has been added to the tray again.
The label says there is a Taste Difference within?
Well, you can’t argue with that, can you? Hehe!

My mind was wandering a little, but, of course, that’s perfectly normal for me.
I belatedly changed the clock-calendar thingies. Oh, and made another mug of Detox tea.

Started to update the Wednesday blog. But…
CORALDRAW FROZE.
I was drawn into a place distant, certainly nowhere near me now. But Darius was persistent and got a smidge deeper every time I made a mistake, or one of the Oh, so many computer problems occurred! I turned off CorelDraw, gave it a few minutes, and then rebooted. That was the plan. At this stage, Carer Nimra arrived. She tried ringing the Audio Centre for me, but couldn’t get through, just an AI recording. She called her ICC boss, and they agreed to make an appointment for me and let me know when it is. Then another mammoth asked to ring Easy Link to see if they could give me a lift on the day.

It went all dark… the rain poured and the thunder thundered. No lighting as far as I know.
I took three shots from the kitchen window.
To the right.
To the left.
Straight ahead. Seemed to change colour?

Then a shot of the end of the car park.
Did you notice something different?
Two cars were parked on the lines, and the red car had to park in a parking bay.
They’ll be annoyed!

Carer Nimra took the waste bag with her for me.

Meals Delivered.
The full selection.
Below is a closer view of each.
I tried an all-day breakfast this time.
Veg Korma, Cumberland Pie.
Vegetable Lenyil and Steak hotpots.
I just wish they were larger portions. Hehe!

Meal of the Day
Baked potatoes with no-butter butter & a pinch of salt. Five different types of tomato. Fish sticks, and a red spring onion sliced up.

As I did the washing up, I took this late view from the kitchen window.
A pareidolia’s delight with these clouds.

🤎 Best Wishes Sent to All 🤎

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I was never happier than when I was canoodling,
I recall when the urge was first brewing…
1952, Christine at school, and bikeshedding,
I was shy, and she was bodybuilding,
Things I’d not seen before, I found amazing.
These adventures I found benchmarking…
At that stage and age, it was only fondling,
In 1956, we were barbecuing,
She was learning typing & bookkeeping,
I was street gas lamp lighting & snuffing,
Our routine became more challenging,
Groping, sharing and mingling…
Pairing, discovering and ogling,
Sauciness skills accumulating…
Temporarily ego-boosting!
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MEMORABLE EVENTS FOR THIS DATE
Include World War II’s official end with the formal surrender of Japan in 1945, the 1966 Great Fire of London beginning, the UK’s adoption of the Gregorian calendar in 1752, and the observation of World Coconut Day in recent years. 
A little less known, was on this day in 1952, WP Blogger Inchie, a six-year-old back then, was thrown off of Wilford Street Canal bridge by a motley gang of yobboes. Ending up resurfacing and clinging on for dear life to a rope hanging from the British Waterways barge. His hand frowing colder the longer the time went. Needless to say, he was scared stiff. He was prepared to lose his grip and go down and drown. But strong hands grabbed him, lifted him up and put him into a boat. A policeman took him home.
He got belted by Father for coming home soaking wet and dripping all over the linoleum.

Today made me all behind again, Humph!
Carer Ejaz performed a body check, administered medications, put on diabetic socks, monitored Health Check, and checked the food dates in the fridge. Two items were dished.

Took a balcony shot of the end car park, which had a little mud slide from the overnight rain, but it’s now cleared up.
Asda Deliver
The driver put the things in Iceland carriers for me.
Selection of favourites.
A few more…
I now have a good stock of spring water and soda waters. These keep the bladder working.

Vyne Delivery. I expected to find the catheter contraption spares, but instead, I found a packet of Barrier Cream sachets and some catheter pouch bags.

Two minutes later, the Amazon-supplied self-propelling wheelchair arrived. I struggled to get it into the hallway, but managed to put the Cream and bags on top of the wheelchair box.
Carer Nimra arrived and checked the barrier and catheter pouch cover.
We got the wheelchair into the balcony for assembling later. ,
Not much room.
Showing the damage to the wheelchair box on arrival. Nimra counted a total of 22 holes, tears and/or crushed corners. 

Carer Ejaz called. He took down the laundry, returned, and then attempted to erect the wheelchair.
This is as far as we got, (he) got with it, and we ran out of time. In between, Ejaz went down to move the washing to the dryer, then returned and had another go at getting the leg pad and brakes fitted. He managed to get one on. 

Going to get vague from here on, no notes on the pad. And I had the worst response to coming out of a seizure than I’ve ever had. This toyed with my brain, balance and patience.

Carer Mizra had bought the prescription medications.

L made a meal of potatoes and peas. No bread,
I thought I’d taken a photo, but there is nothing on the SD card.

It was a Bad Night – Full of blanks, depression, and those short, silly seizures, which left me puzzled and confused.

What a puddling day. Still, I’ve had worse!

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My brain and I are not closely connected,
We used to be so well integrated…
But, Doreen Dementia & my brain affiliated,
Peripheral Neuropathy, as it was expected,
His neurotransmitters got disconnected…
The link twixt brain & limb was disassembled,
Messages sent, get all broken up, entangled,
Messages received are not easily deciphered,
At times, words can’t be spoken, expressed,
Limbs won’t go where told to or directed,
With confusion I regularly get encintured,
I find little problem when being seizured,
It’s the after-effects that get me fanted,
Wooziness and unsteadiness are guaranteed,
Rare problems peeing, now I’m cathetered,
The release valve has often leaked,
You pee on the floor, your slippers & feet,
It’s a problem if your hearing aids break…
An appointment? I waited five weeks, mate,
Nurses, Carers, they can’t accommodate,
Glaucoma, deaf, bonkers, what a state,
Loneliness, guilt, bring on my self-hate,
Daily actions are so easy not to complicate,
Yesterday I broke a mug and a plate,
Taps left on, fridge door open, continuate,
More often than not, my mind is perplexed,
I involuntarily pass gas, break wind, flatulate,
Get to the bog on time? Too often I’m too late,
Eventually, one realises they are too inadequate,
Little joy, happiness, you can’t cohabitate,
Slowly turning into a nursing home candidate!
I realised coping is not going to be too intricate,
At first, I thought we just had to invocate…
That doesn’t work, let me relate…
Each Nurse, Warden & Carer knows of my sad state,
How do I get my flu jab to my Neurosurgeon date?
But how to cope? No need to machinate…
These problems: how to alleviate?If you can get FND, PN, & many a seizure,
High-Mode-Horis will follow, I’m certainly sure,
HMH is a “Sod-em-all mood”, & such a pleasure!
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After taking an age to fall asleep, despite feeling so weary and tired, I kept jerking awake. Courtesy of , I’ve missed him lately, but he’s back again now. Other much unmissed ailments have been Duodenal Donald and Arthur Itis. The perennial Anne Gyna, the Sandra’s Mini-Seizures and Galucoma Gladys seem well-settled into their LNI (‘Let’s Nobble-Inchie mode). Earache Erasmus eased of this morning, but is back again now. Toothache-Tiffany only bothers me if I drink anything hot or cold, eat anything, cough, sneeze, clean my teeth (what few I’ve got left), or laugh out loud. (Of course, there’s not a whole lot of that about lately.)

05:30hrs: The nocturnal Urine was a 5 on the NHS scale. I was a little bit out of it when I got up, a smidge off-balance and confused. All signs of a nighttime seizure, but I’m guesstimating, of course. 
Yet, I remembered to make a mug of Dettol tea as I went to visit the Porcelain Throne. No, that’s not right; a mug of Detox tea. (Sausage & hostage?)

I settled into the disabled raised plastic seat and retrieved the crossword book. Given that all the signs suggested it would take time and effort to get the movement started. And it did!
However, I ignored the crossword book as an inspiration for a tale of woe blog came to me. I used the inside cover of the crossword book to make some memory notes. The ideas were coming at me at a rate of knots, thick and fast. For several minutes, I also ignored the non-moving rear-end evacuations blockage. Until the pain started. That caught my attention. It took another few minutes of urging, pushing, and tears coming down my cheek before the flow began… well, not a flow, it was like slow motion as the torpedo finally edged its way out.
Kerplonk! Thud, splash! I just stayed there, adding bits to the notes I’d written. Of course, most of them were unreadable. Hehehe!

Now, I was eager to create a storyline and a graphic of some sort as a header for the extra blog piece.
Onto the computer, no wash, no shave, no medicationings. As I was about to start the story, I remembered that Matron would call on me from Monday to Thursday, and the Social lady would visit sometime this week. So, I updated some things that I needed help with for both ladies, just in case they came today. (They didn’t).

I drank the Detox, made a proper mug of extra-strong Typhoo tea, and started on the story. Made a graphic to use as a header for the blog page (Left). I thought it best not to inform anyone of what I was doing when I conceived the idea for the tale. Haha! 

Then, in mid-creation, Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications and spotted two possible mini oedemas on my right leg, which were no worse. Carer Nimra reported this to the District Nurses yesterday. A nurse is due to check them today, apparently. We spoke, well, I did, about the Audio Clinic appointment to get my hearing aids repaired, which was requested over five weeks ago, and nothing has been done yet. He will consult with his manager and get back to me regarding this matter. He then put the diabetic socks on for me and did a quick body check.

I returned to the story blog and, upon realising I hadn’t updated yesterday’s blog, rushed a bit, but then stopped myself upon noticing that, as I reread it, there were many more applicable words I could have used. So changed some of them to keep the humour side alive in the story. I’m hoping I got them right. Then I got on with updating the Inchie blog. Posted it off, and back to the story tale blog. By gum, I was determined today.
When I restarted the story, the most welcome visitor of the day developed in my brain.
His ability to create instant notions of a “Sod-Em-All” nature is so precious. Naturally, I knew it was not going to last long, and I seemed to appreciate the freedom from worry all the more! If only I could summon him whenever I needed him.
I imagine him being a bit like A young Spike Milligan, on form.

Back to the Time Traveller Tale. With still with me, things seemed to flow a lot more freely, and I changed a couple of sentences.

I took the photos for today’s blog using CorelDraw, and I had a slight fear of another infamous CorelDraw calamity. To be on the safe side, I ran CCleaner first.

After midday, Carer Nimra visited. I mentioned the Audio situation, and she called her manager. Later, I was asked if the Wednesday call could be rescheduled for a Thursday, so someone could ring the Audio Clinic. I agreed. I didn’t realise that the laundry room has always been very much busier on a Thursday. That is why we made the longer call for Wednesday. Too late now. No, it’s not! Although it leaves us with the same laundry problem. When Ejaz made the last call, he phoned his office and changed the longer call from a Thursday to a Tuesday, and it’s no longer on a Wednesday. I’ve lost the plot now!

Back to the plot.
I went out to look at the walker and wheelchair on the balcony. Still a smidge confused.
The thick clouds, now that the rain had stopped, looked so fresh and almost pretty to me. Then so do many traits in nature.

A shot of the local dwellings from the balcony, this proved painful for me. I had to lean out of the window to get the angle needed, and the catheter tube caught against the wheelchair and tugged at Little Inchie and his fungal lesion. The next shot was delayed while I stopped and cleaned up the blood from my testicles and legs! Tsk!
I’d like to take the opportunity to tell you how excellent these chip shop chips taste. If I ever get the time, I should be having some tonight. Well, it’ll be morning by then. Lovely!
Iceland sell them. £3 a bag.
But it’s worth it, I can assure any chip-loving reader!

Rain...
Rain…
Oh, it stopped!
Mudslide from the rain. Red car again.

Ah, a decent night shot with plenty of brown in there.
Just caught a bit of the sun on its way down.

Ejaz, on his last call, took this one. Kodak Tim 2.

Food!

CHEERIOski!