Episodic Ataxia

Inchy Today: Monday 12th May 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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In this Ode, I’ll not mention Starmer,
See that? I’m already a proven liar!
I’m not an activator, actuator or advocator,
Believing once Labour got in power…
It would be a poor man’s financial alleviator,
Not a disabled and pensioner aggravator!
Nor a doom and gloom annunciator,
Our future has never been bleaker,
I don’t trust the HMG, MP, PM or speaker,
Labour: experts in taking a backhander,
I could kick him up his detrusor…
Jinx or hex him; it’d be my pleasure!
My loathing gets ever deeper,
Keir’s decisions get even creepier,
Voters crumbling-hopes get damneder,
His clever use of semi-lies & implicature…
Prevents prosecution… he is a barrister!
Who freed child killers & an axe murderer,
He’s responsible for killing off many a pensioner,
Bankrupting the family farmer…
Feathering his own nest, a meshuggener?
The man is a nihilist, self-profit-seeking,
His expense claims: do they need questioning?
No doubt about it, he’s a naysayer,
He’s likely suffering from peniaphobia,
Scared to death of becoming a pauper,
With brain cells ever working, reticular,
I noticed he’s also a slangwhanger,
He’s earned an early sepulchre,
The slower & more painful, the better!
I may sound like a hard-done-to squaller,
These odes prove I’m a schlepper…
With Starmer being a snollygoster,
He commits crimes, lies & sclaunder…
He gets away with it; that’s spectacular!
That’s because he was a high-class lawyer,
The perfect con man & thimblerigger,
As a PM, naturally, he’s titular,
He got elected because he’s a liar,
Two-faced, deceitful, a conniver,
A guilty promise-breaker
An oathed decision reverser,
A farmer & pensioner depriver,
One other thing in particular,
He also got, is, uranomania!
Divinity? He believes it! Hehehe!
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05:20hrs: I shot out of bed and leapt over the second-hand shop bought nine years ago for £300, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner. Doing a backward summersault, landing face down, and after doing a few hundred press-ups… 
It’s no good; I’m such a terrible fibber!
I inched my legs off of the bed. The catheter contraption straps were painful this morning. I detached the nocturnal catheter bag and rose rather too quickly to get the cream and rub some on the leg straps on the leg. I fell backwards on the corner of the bed and felt bleeding.
So, with the bum and top of the leg bleeding, I hobbled into the kitchen to check the taps and stove initially. But I got sidetracked when I saw the amazingly clear sky. I got Kodak Tim Two and took this snap of the clouds. Then, I took another wider shot. The Sun was already beginning to come through from behind and causing a mist on the horison.

I went to the wet room, where I decided to tend to the mess before applying the barrier cream. I cleaned the few teeth I had left and used the mouthwash. I then realised I had not put in the hearing aids. So, I went to fetch and fit them to see if anyone should call early. With the hearing aids in, I heard a strange noise from the kitchen—a tinkling sound.
Yee Gods! The fourth time in three days! Grrr!
Luckily, it had not been running too long, and the hot water was still reasonably hot enough for me to get the shaving done.
Get ready for this, folks… Dang dang, dang, Dang!
Not a single nick, let alone cut shaving!  
A fair bit of medicationings was needed. But I’ve had worse, so no complaints.
Cleaned the glasses. Did a hearing aid battery check. Olive oiled the earholes. Dry eye spray was used. Then, the Blepharitis gel. Phorpain gelled both of Arthur Itis’s knees. Both cartilages, Chloe & Carole, are at the back of the knees. I barrier creamed my armpits, underneath my man breasts and groin, paying careful attention to SOSTH (Spanish Onion Sized Testicle Henry). Below my bulging belly, my still bleeding rear-end sternum. Germolened both ankle ulcers. Then, I got new straps onto the catheter contraption. Barrier creamed them before fitting. Then I tackled .
I’m using the new-to-me Terbinafine hydrochloride cream. I’m also applying the new dropper before the much-feared pain of rubbing it in  Med Hydr I can assure you that it was thrown in the waste bin! I’ll never use that again! I shall stick with Betamethasone in the future, even if I have to buy it. Too Painful? YES! This session took a long time to complete. Of course, getting the Protection Pants on was the usual farce. Do they make anything similar to the ones on the right here? It’s suitable that I should put him on the right. Because he’s the most Tory-like Labour Prime Minister ever! Hahaha!

As I noticed the Prison alarm was flashing last night, I didn’t expect to see it again this morning. I got Kodak Tim x2 and took this very poor close as I could get to it to take a snap of the Alarm Flashing (Escaped Prisoner). But it had stopped by the time I’d prattled about to get the shot. Just my luck not to have taken it earlier. Tsk!
Carer Ejaz arrived. Bless him.
I told them of whatever they were last night, which left me in a time-lapse, confused and nervous.
The lad listened. He then sorted out my NHS breakfast.
Then, Ejaz barrier-creamed where I could not reach, mainly my feet, ankles, and back. Next, he put my diabetic socks on my feet for me.
Then he did a quick hoovering around for me. Bless him.

I got tucked into creating today’s Anti-Starmer Ode.
I was about half an hour into it, and the intercom chimed out. It was Matron. She measured me up for the wheelchair setting up. Checked my BP returns, and I waffled on about last night’s time-warping and total confusion. She reminded me to make sure I got an appointment with the Doctor. I explained that only when the Carer is on a Wednesday and Joe is prepared to go with me. Joe will remember and explain things better than I could on my own.
I think other things were discussed. Yes, Matron Jackie will ask the Doctor if I can have an oxygen level monitor. I have no idea what that actually means. I’ll look it up on Mr. Google.

Back to the Ode writing.

A series of mini-seizures came over the next few hours. Kyboshed my creativity and concentration.

Carre Joe arrived. He thinks I may have been falling asleep, which is a possibility. However, I was getting many feelings of dizziness, and my eyes seemed foggy for a few minutes, which I usually put down to my coming out of a seizure. Who knows? Not me!

Carer Ejaz made the next call. Socks taken off. Medications were issued. We had a little natter, and he was in a rush but asked if he could take my photo with my sunglasses on. Well, ever the budding model, I agreed. A handsome-looking brute! Hahaha!

I showed my prepared-earlier nosh in the microwave pot. Ejaz took a photo of that as well! He shot off after that.

I got the Ode finished and into the blog.

I went to the kitchen to ensure I’d not left anything unsafe. I put the potatoes in the dish and put them into the microwave oven.

Boy, what a view I took in these snaps of the quickly disappearing Sun. Bootiful!

Amazing Night Glow!
Then, a closer shot.
I think the eyes of the Sun were
from some trees on the horizon.
GREAT!

It’s late now, and the spuds are in the oven. I’m giving up on the blog, but the meal tempts me!
The Morrisons bread rolls were tasteless and tough.
Everything else was gorgeous!

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Here’s a four-leaf clover
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Inchy: Sunday 11th May 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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Into power Starmer did hurdle,
Now, we await his downward hurtle,
He looks mundane, boring and sensible,
Proved winning power was accomplishable,
At lying, he’s fluently forked-tongueable,
Truth to him is customisable,
Like his excuses, taking treats from Arsenal,
Despite his proving to be adorkable,
His stealing from pensioners was awful!
To him, greed & dishonesty is normal,
I’m in decrial; he has my disapproval…
Unfortunately, he’s unremovable,
Despite his dishonesty & being dubitable,
Despite proving to be adorkable,
Taking backhanders, & acquisitional,
I’m bald, but he makes my hair bristle!
I’d like to meet him, in a quiet twitchel…
To declare my feelings, which are emotional,
I stew in hatred, sink into a dwall,
All I can do is write anti-Starmer doggerel!
The scum-ball makes me so epithetical,
I’ve never known a PM so pathetical…
I hope his reign will be expediential,
This Labour party; can it be extirpable?
To socialism, he’s not endemical,
His policies seem enigmatical,
I can’t see a party that could be a rival.
Tories? Sunak turned them suicidal,
LibDems and Greens, both hopeful,
Reform, a far-right furuncle?
Starmer’s a bully, so says his uncle,
Words not to describe Keir? Affable & merciful,
Starmer’s end may be happenstantial!
Send a bottle of gin laced with weedkiller?
Naughty, but I’d like to see his funeral,
I’d love to be there at his beheadal,
Good heavens, I brought on a smile!
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Labour admits disability cuts will force 250,000 people (including 80,000 children & pensioners) into poverty.

Keir Starmer’s Labour Government are cutting almost £ 5 billion from the Welfare budget via targeted attacks on the sick and disabled. This will include excluding young disabled people (aged 18–21) from incapacity benefits. This “Spring Statement” has finally revealed the Labour Government’s impact statement. It says that more than 1,000,000 disabled people will lose their disability benefits.

The Labour attack on disability benefits will ultimately push 250,000 people (including 50,000 children) into poverty. It’s a sickening and frightening situation for hundreds of thousands of disabled Brits.

Awful. 
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04:14hrs: Sorted the catheter contraption bags.

Carer Ejaz appeared as I was starting the computer.
He did a good job. He medicated the catheter strap wounds and those on the left wrist and arm.
Then, I put on the diabetic socks. Ejaz graded the nocturnal catheter wee-wee. He quickly checked the torso for bruises and creamed a couple of them.
He checked the taps and stoves and reported that I’d left the hot water tap running. Tsk!

So, no ablutions were able to be done this morning! But the first call to the wetroom.

Took this snap…
Just as Cartilage Chloe gave way, I hit my elbow on the way down against the radiator.
Landing on Cartilage Carole’s right knee, the strap on the catheter contraption shot off, and the tube gave poor Little Inchie a hell of a tug! Naturally, I just laughed it off.
Getting into the other room on all fours was painful, as I was trying to hold onto the loose strap to prevent another tugging session!
Naturally, I just laughed it off.
After what felt like an hour or more, I had to leave the walking stick behind. I got to 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.
Naturally, I just laughed it off.
Hauling my flobby-wobbly body up onto the recliner, I twisted to get myself to sit down. I soon recovered enough, rose gingerly onto my feet, and hobbled back to the kitchen to get the walking stick. I pressed on… – right against the ingrowing toenail again!
Naturally, I just laughed it off.
After giving off a howl, growl, and a bit of swearing, I reclaimed the walking stick.
I caught the wristlet alarm and set it off!
Naturally, I just laughed it off.
A few fibs above, I believe!

I took this snap and sat down for some R&R.

Carer Joe woke me for the early afternoon call. Not that I could recall much about it.

I sat down again, nibbled some crisps, and returned to the computer.

I heard the intercom chiming and got up to find it was Carer Rosma. The watch told me it was eight o’clock. Which my befuddled brain thought was in the morning. (I now know it was evening), and I did not have the medications? I thought that Carer Rosma had got the time wrong.
I’m not sure what happened there, but I did post Saturday’s blog and started on this without recalling doing either!
Seizures? Effects of the tumble? Arithmaphobia? Did I fall asleep? Ménière’s disease? FND?

Very few photos were taken. Oh, dearie me

The notepad had a fair bit of scribble, with very little being decipherable. 

Community Nurse Rebbeca on her unexpected visit. She checked the cartilage strappings. She said, “If you have any trouble, call me.” What about? A total mystery to me. I didn’t get any Warfarin because I thought it was morning and had a vague recollection, which I put on the blog earlier, that Carer Joe had been. A worrying episode!
I must remember to ask Joe about it in the morning or whenever he calls. And add it to the Doctor problems to take with us during the appointment.

Honestly, I can’t recall taking these incredible clouds

I went to look for what to have for my meal and found I’d made a microwave meal and put it in the fridge. I’m a bit concerned now.

No wash or shave. Lost hours in the day. Took a tumble. Left the hot water tap running. Exceedingly weird seizures and loss of time & events. 

I’ll get the fodder from the fridge and hopefully catch up in the morning.

For the first time, I was uneasy about my new form of complete time confusion, and realising it was morning when it was night took me a long time. Time, clock, and numbers could indicate that my arithmaphobia is getting more severe. Sorting out the memory timewise almost hurt my brain. I kept skipping between the believed wrong time and returning to the present, inevitably suffering another trip out of the real-time zone repeatedly. And momentarily, if not for longer. I felt positive I was in the correct period. This made working things out even harder. Hopefully, a nurse or even the Doctor may read this, appreciate the severity and the worry it brings, and get me an earlier appointment to see the Doctor.

In the morning, I tried to explain the time discrepancies to Carer Ejaz as best I could.
I’m not convinced he cottoned onto what I was saying. No feedback.

Bean stew with added pickled water chestnuts and brown gungo beans.
TASTY!

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Saturday 10th May 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I didn’t particularly run, more absquatulated,
The plans for the attack were soon abrogated,
The CO’s plans seemed so distorted, aberrated…
2nd Corp was soon abscinded,
The enemy got so aggravated…
Our armour arrived, defences were annihilated,
Remnants withdrew, not chicken-hearted,
Their ammunition, fuel, expended…
We were welcomed and adulated,
Winners, victors, it’s complicated,
Yet war is not globally hated?
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05:30 hrs: I had a verbal and emotional argument with myself. The Inchy part of me wanted to get up and do the ablutions and medicationings, then get onto the computer and try to catch up with my blogging. However, the other, being in residence in my brain (EQ Inchie), wanted only to give up and stay in the comfortable, snug bed to try to get back to sleep again. We both partly agreed with the other.
As we argued, we removed the nocturnal bag from the day pouch, and things turned unwanted! A bit of panic as a rear-end evacuation started on its own accord – I fumbled my way to the wet room.

Carer Ejaz treated the catheter contraption 
wounds and bruises.

Kitchen view.

Sweetcorn fritters were put in the oven.
20 minutes of cooking time.
Two hours later, I took the burnt food from the stove and threw it away. 
Tsk!

A microwave meal is sorted.

Sorry that there’s not much on here.
I spent more time out of it than with it.
Mini-seizures, I assumed.

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All the best!
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Inchy: Wednesday 7th May 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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The fragrant beauty of the moonflower,
The falling leaves from the magnolia,
Signs of Spring, from the family Rosaceae,
Tulips will be growing in Andover,
Recalling my young days, I go a quiver,
Recollecting my tussles with woman-power,
In the grass, cuddles, gropes… Wowser!
I refer, of course, to my beloved Grizelda,
As our relationship did blossom & flower,
Living here lonely now, in Winchester…
Most nights, I hear Grizelda whisper,
I explain how I desperately miss her,
Grizelda; the best ever lover & groper,
Harder than any gobstopper…
Big, muscular, strong, but genteeler,
Galactic, like mythological Galaxia…
She was never the gongoozler…
Rather more the sex organ activator,
My desire, my fire, my inveigler,
A powerful scented windbreaker,
A passionately strong lovemaker,
Autumn leaves fall from the sycamore,
Grizelda was taken, I see her no more,
She was my love, my supporter,
I imagine, dream & remember…
I still love and often serenade her,
In my mind, this may sound like Bilgewater,
She wards off my Neuralgia & Dementia…
I recall her caring benignity…
She loved my childlike poetry,
Her passion, with its forceful articulacy,
Our passion? I was the beneficiary,
I pray to meet her again, cacophonously,
She’s in my every catalepsy, is Grizzly,
I’ll die, not circumspectly or tentatively…
Hoping she’ll be waiting, eager to again maul me!
Enjoying contact, love and contiguity!
Forgive my being slightly delusionary, Hehe!
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It’s another busy day. Wednesdays are busy nowadays. Usually, Carer Joe does the weekly long call. Last week, before he arrived, I told myself to mention that I’d not have any cash to pay the monthly bills from those who do not take payment by cash card. This morning, I remembered that I still had no money to pay my debts.
Joe came to the rescue and took me to the ATM. We also got a bit of food. Boy, did I enjoy getting out? 
Joe changed the routine and got the laundry ready to go down with us. Joe also helped me prepare the trolley and other things to take out. However, I failed to remember to take the camera with me. Huh! 
When we got to the ground floor, all the machines were in use, so we had to wait until one was free. There were delays at every turn on this trip. Joe had a limited time—three hours, I think. He said we could collect the finished laundry on the way back from the ATM. Then he walked me to his pap-pap and somehow got me in it. That was painful, but it didn’t matter. Once in all, it was comfort. It was filled up when we got to the car park down Winchester Street! More delays! The third car park we tried had one free space! We moved to the road and shop with the ATM. It was broken down. 

Then, to the Co-op ATM. That had broken down.
Then, to the Continental Shops ATM. Got the dosh.

I bought some great-priced Compass canned meals there. Then I went back to the car park and up to the flats.

We’d spent so long over the ATMs that Joe had no time to dry the washing. He brought it up, and we hung it all over. A great job Joe did.

Commuter playing up.
I’m struggling. If I get the computer looked at, I’ll put pictures on quickly and catch up tomorrow.

Amazing – the moon has a ghost?

Glengettie & Spring water, and Soda water.
Drinkies to fill the catheter bag.

Joe took me to the ATM; what a farce!
But by gum, I loved getting out, feeling
I was safe if any seizures or tumbles came.

Got back to the flat.
Late, of course. No time for Joe to do the spin-drying with the ATMs not working.

A few nibbles I bought.

We hung the damp laundry all over the place. Haha!On the kitchenette Windows.
Socks on the airer in the hallway.
Hallway airing cupboard doors.
And on the main room door.

Skin-on wedge chips, slightly-seasoned.
As recommended by Carer Joe.
Stopping here. Computer toying with me.
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Must get some help with it.

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In a pickle!
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Inchy: Sunday 4th May 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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Grim: Ayup, what yer up to dumbo?
Inchy: Photoing the sunset, catching it low.
Grim: You like nature, don’t you?
Inchy: I used to like women, but now it’s a no-no!
Grim: How does it help, watching the sun go?
Inchy: It doesn’t, no cuddles or fandango…
No sex or snogging makes me feel so low,
Grim: There’s nowt I can do to help though!
Inchy: A bit of good news? Should I try Ginko?
Grim: Nae, it’s no good, does nowt for you!
Inchy: News? Is there owt I should know?
Grim: I’ll soon be telling yer to get ready to go!
Inchy: That’s alright, I want to talk to St Peter,
Grim: Oh, he’s a proper keen abnegator…
Inchy: Are you saying he’s real… St. Peter?
Grim: I shouldn’t really tell yer…
as you’ll croak out sooner rather than later,
Inchy: Yes, yes, okay, please tell me…
Grim: I really shouldn’t oughter…
St Peter was invented by a Grim Reaper,
Inchy: You? Was it you who invented Peter?
Grim: Well, yes, I had to make it obscure,
So earthlings would never be sure…
Inchy: Yes, yes, yes, tell me more…
Grim: I’d hate victim’s death to be vin ordinaire,
Inchy: I think you really care!
Grim: I do, I do, look at what we share!
Neither of us can have sexual rumpy-pumpy,
Inchy: Very accurate, not our fault, amazingly,
Grim: We’ve no friends apart from each other,
Inchy: Yes, all and sundry can, annoyingly…
Grim: Starmer is our mutual archenemy,
Inchy: True, spot-on accuracy!
Grim: Neither of us show animosity…
Although we both share an animosity,
Inchy: Do we really?
Grim: Yes, towards Heaven & Hell surprisingly,
You accept death most acquiescingly!
Inchy: That’s cause life’s gone miserably,
Grim: They’ll rebirth me, non-consentingly,
With no freaking regrets or apology!
Inchy: The swine, absolutely!
Grim: 2000 years plus, I’ve been reaping!
Without stopping or ever sleeping,
Not one soul collected ever went missing…
Inchy: They’ve treated you abominably…
Grim: Hence, I share your misery, Inchy,
Inchy: Anything I can do to help, possibly?
Grim: We face futures brokenheartedly,
You for not dying, me for reliving…
Inchy: What are you saying?
Grim: When you die, I’ll not collect your soul,
Inchy: Can you not make an appeal?
Grim: To God or the Devil, you cannot appeal,
Even I don’t know if they’re real…
their decision sends me apoplectical,
your world, soon to be mine, is adumbral,
Inchy, what should I be anticipating?
Inchy: Gun crime, motor vehicle crime,
breaking & entry, Islamophobic crime, 
homophobic crime, wars, Transgender crimes.
starvations, price rises, bent politicians,
Oligarchs, illuminati, global-warmings,
financial greed, bumfuzzling, pickpocketing,
transgressions, sexual deviations & violations,
depravities, injuries, scandals, altercations,
lawbreaking, delinquencies, corruptions,
injustices, illegalities, death, criminalities,
murders, sins, atrocities, evils, abominations,
monstrosities, cybercrimes, manslaughters,
greed, backhanders, muggings, road raging,
armed assaults, drug wars, blackmailing,
prices rise, corporate fiddling, PM’s lying…
domestic violence, jealousy, child molesting,
antisemitic crime, rude awakenings,
Racist, religious hate crime, thieving…
Grim: Whoa, whoa… I was only joking!
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05:00hrs: I woke up; the moment I moved, I was greeted with severe pains in my left & right feet.  Onychovryptosis Ingrowing Toenails, damaged during the cutting, I had to pay £35 for last Friday. Bad as the pain was, I think it was a smidgeon easier than yesterday, but that was absolute agony! I decided then not to have the diabetic socks put on today. But daren’t leave them off for too long. Or the leg growths will start to leak again. I can’t win! Haha! Honestly, I do try!
I removed and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch. I poured some into an old clear plastic yoghourt pot for the Carer to assess the NHS colour grading chart for me later, and then I took a photo of it (5.5 on the scale). 
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Moving to the kitchen after imagining that I’d done my balance exercises, I stubbed my right toe against the ottoman. A few curses, with a fair degree of swearing later, ARRGH!
The same left foot with the big toe was the problem a second time. I took a kitchenette shot en route to the wet room to visit the Porcelain Throne. Trosky’s comeback from yesterday was short-lived.
Had returned. A reluctant whopper was eventually released into the water, which needed three flushes, then a prod with a bamboo cane and a third flush to encourage it to the sewer. I hope it doesn’t cause a blockage. Hehehe!

07:00 hrs, Carer Ejaz arrived. He seemed happier today. I think my saying the socks will have to be left off and telling him why cheered him a little. The medications were issued, and he dabbed some barrier cream on the ingrowing toenails. Well, it might help. He also put some on the rough, thickening right ankle of .
Ejaz took these two shots of feet and poot little and big toes. The big toes seem to have gotten larger overnight? Is that possible? Both hallux toes also seemed to be curling beneath the other toes? Does anyone else out there have or had this before? The smaller toes seem to be more bent? Hey-Ho! Ajaz checked the torso for scabs, bruises, or wounds but found none. Well, a few new red-spot growths on the right top thigh. They come and go at will. After the lad had gone, I went to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea and took this snap on the right when I saw how the sky had reddened.

At 13:30 hrs, Carer Jasmin arrived. She examined the toes and applied some Savlon. She said the toes (the ingrowing pair) had been cut down far too much when they were cut, Jasmin said.

Carer ‘Joe’ did the teatime call; he’s a good bloke.

Baked potatoes in husks, frankfurters, and nothing else. Well, I had an ice cream cornet for afters.

Night shots of the dramatic-looking sky.
And a close-up to follow.
They had a dour beauty, do you think?

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🤎Have a bundle of glee from me!🤎
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Inchy Today: Saturday 3rd May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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– – Or summat like that – –
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What controls one’s advertences?
Without them, you’ve mental curtains,
Which blocks your observations,
Lose your morals and convictions,
Dreams, inspirations and motivations,
You may select the wrong adorations,
Bringing on unwanted altercations,
Also, financial complications,
Getting interest rate reductions?
Do you doze off during meditations?
Do you struggle with DIY contraptions?
Why not consult enchiridions?
Do you use too many idioms?
Do you get drawn into fixations,
Understand your own contemplations?
Do you have naughty inclinations?
Do you mix with Oligarchs or patricians?
Comfortable amidst the proletarians?
How rarely do we question the criterions,
Not all criteria of verifications…
These can be classed as desideratums,
It’s vital to carry out investigations,
And done with great intentness’s,
Their objectives, ambitions, & intentions,
Find out their aim with negotiations,
Tell them it with confabulations,
Or conversations or consultations,
Don’t use the word investigations!
After scrutinisations, & observations,
Re your resulting appraisements…
No ballpark figures or approximations,
Declarations, not propositions,
Release only certitudes, positive decisions,
Analyse your ascertainments,
Then, create new recommendations,
Plainly, this is mostly theorisations…
I am not surprised I get mental altercations!
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I fell asleep last night 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. Woke up several times overnight, but far less than when I was in the hospital bed. Around 04:30hrs, I woke again and decided to get up and catch up early on the blog. The mind was willing enough, but the body sort of said to me, ‘Sod off!’ Several times. I could not get back to sleep; a few bouts of eye-drooping were the best I could achieve. I lurched from the recliner, noticing the time was 06:20 hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag, and plans changed when I got up and started the gentle morning balance exercises. The wind erupted from my hindquarters; long, loud, noisily, and aromatically contaminated the room. Off to the wet room, I trudged. By the time I got there and sat down on the Porcelain Throne, the agony from my toes was as painful as it had ever been! Only Anne Gyna and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion are that bad. I thought they hurt a lot when they were cut yesterday. £35 I had to pay for this torture session, too! Haha! To rub it in, I had to clean up endless toenail clippings when the Carer spotted them later on the carpet.
I did not wash or shave, but did I rinse the teggies? I put it down to the pain I’d got and had all day every time I had to stand up and or walk. I unlocked the door as I exited the room so the Carer could get in later. My getting up late annoysed me. My plan to catch up on the blog was in ruins. The new four-wheeled walker attracted my attention, and I tried again to get the loose right handlebar stiffened. I failed, of course. 

Carer Ejaz arrived. He made me proud this morning. He assessed the urine rating, issued medications, and then changed my catheter bag. Next, he did a full-body check for new wounds or bruises. New spots on my leg and another bruise on my back were found. He then ointmentated both ankle lesions and legs with barrier cream under the men’s breasts, arms, and in the crutch near the catheter tube. I reckon that the right Lymphorrhoea Leslie’s lower leg, which had been bleeding overnight, had dried up well enough and was reduced in size. But things with Leslie change day by day.

I went out on the balcony to take two shots. That rain we had earlier leaked onto the car park’s end. But we still need more rain here. It’s unnatural that so little rain is falling. 
A skyward shot next. What beautiful cloud formations we get. Always differing.

At long last, I got on the computer to update and post the Friday blog on WordPress. It took me hours, but still.

Midday Carer. He took a look at the new walker handgrips for me. I turned the gripper, and it came loose! This could bode unwell!
The skies were even more interesting.
The top shot was to the left of the kitchenette window. The bottom one to the right.
You wouldn’t think they were the same sky.

As the day progressed, the pain from the ingrowing toenails worsened. Walking at times required two sticks; the pain from both nails was so bad. I decided to try to get a bowl with disinfectant in the water, to wash my feet. Getting the bowl filled and into the room near the recliner was a struggle. Dettol was added, and a towel was taken in. But I could not get the diabetic socks off until the Carer arrived.

The Carer came on the last visit and timed it perfectly, and the water was still hot enough.
She removed the socks, and I got my feet in the water.
After two minutes in the bowl, she fretted about being late for her next call. She dried the feet with kitchen towels and kindly applied some barrier cream to Lymphoedema Leslie’s thick, cracked skin on both ankles. Bless her. Cleaning up after was a struggle because, as usual, the toenails sting for a while after doing the feet. Getting off to sleep took me ages, and I was also tired.
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Evening All!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 30th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Our intentions may well be admirable,
But are they needed and desirable?
If they happen to be altruistical?
Are the benefits given physical or ethereal?
Endurable, sustaining or apothegmatical?
Will this incite the recipient to turn greedful?
I don’t want to appear hyperbolical,
After all, I’m fallible and infeasible,
Arguing over things, possibly mental,
fear of numbers, I love anything anecdotal,
Still working out the meaning of biopsychosocial,
Calculations and maths, to me, are cryptical,
Logic, commonsense, I often find chimerical.
Seizures can sometimes make me feel extrinsical,
Leaving me feeling depressed and inimicable,
Things I did 78 years ago are now unfathomable.
I’m not a part, essential, or even integral…
An unmoving nomad, innate, incognoscible, 
When Happy Horis visits, I get incorrigible…
If Depressing Duncan returns, then I feel terrible!
It’s only with me that I get argumental,
Obviously, we don’t need to go all aetiological,
It’s a practicality to be commonsensical,
Seek for the localised idiosyncratical,
Things may not become clear or irenical,
No need to search for the inexplicable,
Don’t spend valuable time on the impenetrable.
Remember, we are not powerful or juridical…
If baffled, then make yourself a foxhole.
Still don’t understand? That’s fantasmagorical,
Still struggling, I’ll write you another oracle!
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Another busy, confusing day for the old groat! 
Carer ‘Joe’ did two calls, and Carer Ejaz did the other two. Phone calls from Matron and Nurse June. Nurse Helen told me to make an appointment, as requested by the Doctor, to see her. I hope to get one for on Wednesday, then Carer ‘Joe’ can accompany me. Asked him to ring surgery tomorrow afternoon if he does the afternoon call tomorrow. 
Made a few cock-ups again. I believe it’s the arithmaphobia that caused most of them.
Ejaz took some snaps for me today of the outdoors. He noticed I’d got the micro-shakes. Bless him. 
Carer ‘Joe’ & Ejaz both helped me out last and this week. And with all the action from the medical front, you wouldn’t believe how appreciative I feel. Fair enough, I’m still with it enough to feel embarrassed at not being able to do things for myself. 
As I pointed out earlier, I believe the issue with the battery delivery and the microwave meal delivery was due to dates, times, and numbers. 
But were they? I think so; I experienced three waves of panic over the last two days as I misread or misunderstood the most straightforward advice and instructional details. Arithmaphobia?
I’ve been meaning to look up Ménière’s disease, the condition the nurse mentioned.
But have I done it yet? No!
To date, I have confirmed some appointments.
The four-wheeled walker is expected to arrive on Friday. Followed by a BRCCS Technician to sort it out and point out handling and safety features.
In abeyance, waiting for confirmation of the visit to the doctor next Wednesday or a later Wednesday so I can go with Carer ‘Joe’, who is aware of my actions and can explain things to me as they are.
On the 15th May. Nickie to do a walker assessment.
On the 23rd, Physio from Manuel.
Awaiting appointment for the Glaucoma lasering.
I’ve missed it on my calendar, but Nurse Caroline is coming to conduct the Pre-Morbid Cognitive Impairment assessment. Alternatively, I need to go to Nuthall Hospital to have it done. But when?
Nurse June rang, but I can’t remember what it was about. Thanks to a seizure, things did not register. At least, I think that’s why. Just photos from here on with what I can recall of them. The earlier ones hold a more explicit memory.

My morning shot before going to the wet room.

Things went okay, I think. One cut shaving
Medicating was easier this morning because I only had to do about half of them, and the intercom chimed out. Naturally, I went back into the wet room and continued dressing without medicating.

Carer Ejaz arrived. He barrier-creamed the ankles, which looked a little more likely to erupt into seeping from . Ejaz took some shots from the kitchen window for me.
Bluey blotches on this one?
Great shot, Ejaz!
Nice one. Is that smoke I see?

Blogging. It took me hours and hours, and I was still nowhere near catching up. Huh!

Mystery afternoon, and I don’t know why?

Ejaz evening call shots were taken for me.

I prepared a mixture of food and placed it in a microwavable container. Later, when I decided to add some mini-roast potatoes, there would be no room in the dish. So, while the spuds were cooking in the oven, I transferred the mix to a larger dish to use in the microwave. In the mixture went a can of vegetable curry, a ready meal of beef in black bean sauce, garden peas, water chestnuts, carrots and some extra Bisto gravy.
Lip-licking luxury!

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Have a Great Day!
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Inchy Today: Friday 25th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– – – Another good week so far! – – –
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Do you usually take the bait?
Or do you weigh up the odds and wait?
Do you think life is hell or bittersweet?
Political Parties, who were bivariate,
Now, there’s Starmer’s shower, & he’s variate,
I wouldn’t say he was inadequate…
Mayhap a little ignorant and inquorate,
Despite his backhanders, he looks lanate,
The Tories, now powerless to negate…
Herr Starmer’s a political novitiate,
No politician can stop or obdurate…
Nobody to challenge him, to objurgate,
As Prime Minister, he’s illegitimate,
His lies got him in power to infuriate…
Kier should be easy to mock and humiliate,
He should not wait to hibernate…
He has no moral convictions to incapacitate,
No guilt, no shame, no loss of face to illustrate,
He loves to regulate but not reevaluate,
His robbing of pensioners will reverberate,
His own HMG rules he does violate,
If his lies continue, he’ll vermiculate,
His lies are ignored, as with Watergate,
I don’t think he’s anyone’s mate!
His dishonesty is too complex to mitigate,
Only gloom for the UK’s proletariat,
His underhandedness can only be profligate,
The proletariat, Keir does provocate…
His lies, he continues to replicate,
Lies by omission on autorepeat,
Before each move, they collectively machinate,
Thesaurus consulted for compassionate…
They all already know how to spell desperate,
Trying to avoid using misappropriate,
Grabbing everything that companies donate,
MP’s expenses are ignored; they do not noviciate,
Starmer continues to confuse & obfuscate,
He’s a clever con man, a tergiversator…
Cunning defrauder, liar, and defalcator,
Hustler, bustler, shyster, & backhand-taker,
A true Labour voter dissapointer & alienator,
One more thing about our new Prime Minister…
He’s a two-faced, double-dealing ambidexter!
I hope I don’t get a visit from his barrister?
To sue me for defamation of character…
He can come to see me, we can have a natter…
If he finds time amidst his backhanding colloquia,
Getting his lagniappes, donations & baksheeshes,
He stole my fuel allowance, but does it matter?
May I express my thoughts about him? A conspirator! 
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Contrails in the sky!

Not a very good one.

Contrails gone.

That’s a bit better now.

The clock belatedly changed.

FOOD!

Early evening.

Absolutely Lovely!

Late night; Mixed clouds?

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TTFN, Each! 
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 22nd April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– – POLITICAL – –
Tuesday, 22nd April 2025, 9:30. 0. 0.
What do I see today, politically?
Alcoholically, ablutionary, & apocalyptically!
Backhanders taken, greedily,
Compassion? Only adumbratively…
Questions answered deviantly,
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Top of Starmer’s gaffes,
“Sausages” instead of “hostages”!
Showing his gaffe addictiveness,
He shows tendencies of being anorakish,
Some decisions made, are cartoonish!
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His gaffes can always be worked around,
His lies leave voters spellbound,
Not denied, just juxtapositioned,
He thinks everything he’s done is sound,
Price rises, are not propound!
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The Tories are now but a bugaboo…
To come back, they must be true-blue!
Their defeat for me, was a blanscue,
I knew what Labour were going to do…
Win the election! More price rises are due!
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Bet they’ve got gelt on some archipelago,
Fiddle expenses, take backhanders too,
More & more dosh they seem to accrue,
Gas, electricity cost rises for us though,
Food, bread, spuds, up, even cocoa!
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I unwillingly got up at 05:00hrs.
Removed the nocturnal catheter pouch.
Got up and nearly fell back down again.
Gave way on me.
She did this again a couple of hours later. But I was in the hallway at the time, taking the groceries, so the walls saved me that on that occasion.
Next, a rare prolonged visit from .
As far as I could tell, I’d had no seizures of any type or kind up to now.

I took a photo of the calendar clock to include here later, after resizing it to fit the page.
Took a blue-view photo from the kitchen.
Cloudless! But not for long.

Sorted the waste bags and got them to the waste chute, but stopped myself in time. It was too early to use it yet, for fear of waking somebody living below as the bags tumble the twelve floors to the bin. I returned to the flat, and made up three one litre drinks to satisfy the demands from the bladder & catheter. I used soda water ones. One with some lemon in to flavour it, one with orange cordial, and the last one with Tango orange. Each one also had a sprinkling of bicarbonate-of-soda added.

I downloaded the photos I had already taken to CorelDraw. It took me some time to get the computer to save the files, but I eventually managed to do so.

The intercom came to life. It was the Asda order arriving. The driver packed the lose goods into carrier bags for me. I insisted had picked a drink for himself before he left.
Plenty to pick from.

I started packing the things away, planning to take photos of the food as I emptied the bags.
I walked Carer Ejaz. He hurried me to get the things away, so no chance for many photos. I took two before he arrived. He fitted the diabetic socks, issued the prescription medications, checked the taps, and verified the food dates.

So, I opened the cupboard doors, the fridge, and so on, to take shots of them when he had gone.

First photo.

Second snap. Asda didn’t have two of the breads in stock, so it looks likely I’ll never buy a loaf of my favourite one, the sliced milk roll. Humph!
The fridge.

The freezer.

Top cupboard,

Bottom cupboard.

I got the stew of the day, a vegetarian started.
Doing it in the slow-cooker this time.
Onions, carrots, mushrooms, gravy pot, gungo beans, pickled black peas, pickled water chestnuts, & a tin of garden peas, with some Gung Po added. Left it on a low light for two hours, then turned it up.

Got the ode sorted out and posted it on the blog. 
Feeling tired now.

Carer Joe arrived at 13:15hrs. He rang British Gas again and got through this time, after a long wait, but he did say they were playing jazz music. Hehe! 
Not sure how much the call will cost me, but the lad was on it for a long time. He eventually got through the hoard of human messages, and spoke to someone. He said it has been sorted now. Thanks, Joe.

I went into the kitchenette to turn up the heat for the stew and added some tinned potatoes That I had sliced up. The juice was tasty.

Back in the main rubbish room, I emptied the catheter day pouch into the jug… and…
I was bent down released and kept hold of to shake the exit switch, and Lost Balance Brutus had me over.
The urine ended up on the carpet with me!
Cartilage Chloe, Arthur Itis Len on the left knee, and bashing my arm against the chair as I fought my way back onto my feet after the tumbled, offered as much pain as I ever want to handle again. The day was going so well, as well!
However, it worsened even further for the knees and back. All that bending to soak up the wee as fast as I could. It took me ages to get it anywhere near dry. 
Then, I sprayed the fabric conditioner and fresh air spray around, I on the corner of the ottoman. Aargh! Needless to say, !

Then, as I recovered from the incident and had cleaned it up as best I could, I returned to blogging. Shot up the leg, as far as my groin. Fair enough, they eased off a lot, and were barely reaching the knee. Then the shocks cut out, and cold tingling sensation took over.

Sister Jane rang. We had a natter. She has glaucoma now, bless her. We spoke about football and swapped tales from the past.

I went to put the thin dressing gown on the kitchen window, as the sun was blooming again. I rechecked the stew, nowhere near ready yet, might be an hour or two at least. I left it on high.

Went on the WR Reader, then the comments.

I’ll have to have the meal after the Carer has been. It’ll never be ready in time to eat it first. This leaves me with the pressure (not really) of remembering to put on the night catheter pouch. What am I saying. I am a fool! Somehow, I thought it was 20:45, and it isn’t. It’s 16:45! And it’s the third visit!

Bootiful Puffer Clouds.

I went to get some more cleaners to try again at removing the accidental urine Accifauxpa scent from the carpet.
And found the Rhodesian (as was, it’s now Zimbabwe) police officer truncheon. 1962 I got this.

Joe, then Ejaz made the last two calls.

Grammarly is not working properly; no spell checks are being made. 

NOSH

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TTFN, Each! 
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Inchy Today: Monday 21st April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– Bless the poor old sausage! –
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Frustration makes me wish I was unborn,
Depression; Why? I’m not certain,
Before I face my final curtain…,,
Why do I always underperform?
I can’t sleep due to my own thought storm,
What could make my life, less tiresome?
With the catheter contraption worn,
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I’ve done nothing to make me admirable,
I’d like to be again analytically capable,
Have romp, with lady so angelical,
These thoughts are all antilogical,
Sex at 82 is not recommendable,
Not only is my ticker undependable…
Life for me is no longer wadable.
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As failures and worries accumulate,
Dementia makes the brain less accurate,
Thinking of sex? Long ago did mussitate,
Catheter? Forced me to terminate…
Distant memories of when I could mate,
Desires, passions, no longer machinate,
It’s been forty years since I had a date!
And that’s frustrating to me mate!
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Not that I had any sexual effectiveness,
Lost abilities = gained acrimoniousness,
My appointment with the neurosurgeons,
Waited three years, with little urgence…
Both legs with diabetic bandages,
And rapidly failing cartilages,
Power charges, HMG, both bloodsuckers!
Day & night, I get the seizures,
Most of all I get the desires…
No more sex, or dancing, it’s pathetic…
I’ve Glaucoma, deafness, nothing climatic,
Daily I’m growing much more empathetic,
What I miss most, I’ll not be too explicit,
Is Grizelda’s sessions, they were fantastic,
Frantic, frenetic, fundamentalistic,
Memories, now far out of reach…
My dream of Grizelda’s return, is foolish,
The fearful truth, is tempus fugit!
Self-consoling with things gastronomic,
Now I’ve a bouncing belly, that’s gigantic,
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Creating humankind? Was it just a gimmick?
All I’ve got from life, is acroparesthesia,
No longer interested, I’m now a flaneur
Starmer the acclaimer and enjoinder,
Putin the attacker, ever threatening,
Liar Trump, now liar Putin copying!
Why are all tellurians fearing?
Squabbling, murdering, starving,
Quarrelling, arguing bickering,
World-ending leaders & Oligarchs,
Daily they are contraindicating,
Midst the violence, the mugging,
Shooting, stabbing & conquesting,
Battling, waring, the world’s combusting,
Betraying, cheating & deceiving,
So many innocents grieving…
Rulers? Champagne, vodka, delabating,
While earth’s population is detritioning.
>>>>><<<<<
I once found life to be coruscating,
Now I believe it is devastating…
Dangerous, and debilitating…
But not for the idiots who are ruling,
As they carry on greedily enfeebling…
their own voters citizens; uncaring,
Getting evermore disobliging:,
Uncivil, unsympathetic, morally-offending
Laughing at imagined enemies, taunting,
While global-warning denigrating…
Blameless, faultless families, scared & hiding,
Poor mites no water, possibly starving,
Underground, hugging and/or cuddling,
Millions running away, emigrating,
Leaders carry on as usual…
Manipulating, cheating and defrauding!
A saviour? I hope he arrives in the morning!
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I spent that long on today’s Ode (Although I did enjoy doing it – not the content, but my protesting). It is already 17:40hrs, and I got up at 04:00hrs! This will have to be brief and concise. Otherwise, it will be another early morning, head-down time.
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Up at 0400hrs. The nocturnal catheter bag contents showed a 6-rating this morning.

No seizures yet, and only one cartilage gave way on me all day long, well up to now. Cartilage Chloe.

I must have had a shake on when I took this one. But, it made for an interesting modern art effort?

Early Morning
I started with a similar evacuation to yesterday on the Porcelain Throne.

I took this snap from the kitchen. I gathered all the necessary items for this morning’s whole ablution event at the wet room. No, that’s not true! Sorry. I’d ran out of clean Kagoules. In fact, I only had one left, that needed washing, cause I’d just taken it off.
So, I hand-washed one and hung it in the wet room to drip-dry with the wall heater on full.
Which shows that I was not entirely with it. Cause I had to move it to get into the shower.
Yes, I know, I’m an idiot!
So I got the towels from the airer.
And swapped them with the Kagoule.
Then I could start the ablutionings…
No, another Whoopsie!
So I took poff the Kagoule, and replaced the towels on the airer. Putting the Kagoule in the kitchen sink,
to make sure the towel would be nice and warm after I’d done the ablutionings. I’m losing this! Hehe!
Another Whoopsie!
I realised that I’d not taken off the catheter contraption’s day bag holder pouch. Back into the front room to remove it and get it in the laundry bag.

As I got in the room and bent down, I had a Seizure if sine sort, that lasted the three seconds or so it took me to tumble onto the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, recliner. Which was a lot better than going down onto the floor, and so easy to get back up again.
By the time I got back to the wet room, I felt tired again, as if I’d been up for couple of hours already and had got nowt done. 
I had to smile when I saw the clock in the wet room. I had been up for over two hours! Now I needed to cut corners to save time and ensure I finished before the Carer was due.
.
After two false starts, I tried again.
Great! one cut shaving, bloody toothache again.
I was amazed at how well things went.
Even getting the fresh Amazon PPs on was was a piece of cake. I wasn’t wearing pants made of cake, you’ll understand? Hahaha!

After rejigging the Kaghoule with the towels again, I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea. Very welcome!
I got on the computer and started on the mammoth ode above. I got a little carried away with it, cause if flowed so easily. Just the one mini seizure, and as for , I think she’s fallen out with me. I do hope this carries on. Is enough bother witout any help from Anne Gyna. I must have already used a tenner’s worth of the pain-ease spray.

Carer Ejaz, formerly Ahmed arrived a little later than usual. As it is a Bank Holiday and the public is finding it difficult to use the Sunday Timetable buses.
He gave the medications and got my diabetic socks fitted. He was already well behind, so he did not stop for the usual chat that we have.

I made a JS food order for next week, Tuesday. This week’s ASDA order, I cut back on a little. I think!
This Arithmaphobia is getting worse. I’m bad enough with word remembering. Good job I’d made lists to use on my blogs. Numers, dates etc. I regularly find errors on the calendar and blog. To many!

Carer Joe arrived. 13:15hrs. He obligingly tried to obtain the Electricity meter reading for British Gas online. However, we were unable to get it to accept them. He spent more time than he wanted to and had to give up when he found a message saying ‘They could not access my account!
Why? No reason given. Hump! We shared our farewells and off he trotted. Nice lad.

Back to the Ode again, and got it finished. Even the punchline came easily this time.
Made a start on the blog proper.

Then I went to make up the feast I had planned for today’s meal in advance (I thought). Realising the time, and it wasn’t in advance… What happened to the time again?
I put the items in the fridge and worked on the WP reader, perusing and replying to comments.

Getting late now. Better heat the meal up.
Beef in onion gravy, boil-in-the-bag. With Home pickled water chestnuts and black chickpeas. Then I added some rich gravy seasoning, my beloved Gung Po sauce and garden peas to the mixture. Stirred it all up nicely, added some Marmite, then cooked it in the microwave for eight minutes, stirring it vigorously after four minutes. Three doorstep-sized slices of white bread, dipped and dunked. Slurp!

I watched the Burnley v Sheffield United match. My second-favourite team, Burnley, won. To be honest they didn’t deserve to. But I was so glad. This meant they would be promoted to the Premier League as winners of the Championship. have spent 60 seasons in the top division of English football, 47 in the second, 11 in the third, and 7 in the fourth division, historically. In the 2020s, they have been promoted to the Premiership on six occasions, and relegated after one season on six of them in the first year.
In 1960, Burnley won the First Division, and Forest avoided relegations by just one point. Mixed emotions there!

1962 FA CUP FINAL
SPURS BEAT BURNLEY 3-1
THEY WAS ROBBED BY
A CROOKED REFEREE!

Tottenham Hotspur took an early lead when Jimmy Greaves scored past Burnley goalkeeper Adam Blacklaw with a low left foot shot to the right corner of the net. The score remained 1–0 until half time. Burnley equalised shortly after the interval through Jimmy Robson, who in doing so had scored the 100th FA Cup Final goal at Wembley. However, Bobby Smith quickly countered for Tottenham Hotspur to restore their one-goal lead. Smith had scored in the 1961 final and remained the only player to score in successive finals for the next forty years, until Freddie Ljungberg of Arsenal repeated the feat with goals in the 2001 and 2002 finals. With ten minutes remaining, Burnley defender Tommy Cummings handled the ball on the goal-line and a penalty was awarded to Tottenham. Danny Blanchflower sealed victory for Tottenham with a penalty that sent Blacklaw the wrong way, securing Tottenham Hotspur’s fourth FA Cup.
Despite the opinion of the final by the press, the game itself actually produced more action in the penalty area than any previous post-war final, with the two keepers being forced into more saves from shots on target than any two keepers in any previous post-war final. The game also pivoted on two moments of controversy. The first came midway through the second half when Jimmy Robson was put through to score what looked like a second equaliser for Burnley. The linesman’s flag ruled the goal out and while BBC television pictures are not conclusive the call was an extremely close one. The second centred on Tottenham’s decisive penalty when the opposite linesman flagged for a foul, presumably on goalkeeper Blacklaw seconds before the handball incident for which the penalty was awarded. The referee did not seem to see the linesman’s flag and pointed to the spot while, to their credit, none of the Burnley players protested. I bet you’d never have believed that this could happen?
But the scumball of a cheating, backhanded referee got away with it.
Thus, my horrible-hatred and loathing for Tottenham Hotspur was given birth. I still have most of it left!
Just thought I’d mention it!
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CHIN-CHIN, ALL!
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Whoops! Nearly missed off the night photo…

A cracker of a view!