Inchcock Today: Saturday 13th August 2022

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12:05hrs: I was abruptly woken by the mind-numbing regulation jolt this morning.  It took me a few minutes to gather the time, where I was, and who I was! Hehehe! Most annoyingly, because I was having a dream, enjoying a dream. The nature of which may not be suitable for blogging. It didn’t do me as good as it happens; Being torn from heavenly bliss, and believing it was actually happening, is cruel in the extreme. The sadness and disappointment in realising it just being a dream is heartbreaking. However, it’s best not to have such goals in the first place. I may need an extra beta-blocker!

Bootiful moon. I had to lean out of the kitchenette window to get it. Had to take four shots to get this one that was usable for my readers. Har-har! Mother Nature at her finest! Sorry, I could not get a better photo of it; I dun me best!

Closing the window, I knocked a bottle off of the window ledge. Although it didn’t break, it landed on a soft part… my big toe that the foot lady cut yesterday! It had to be a heavy glass bottle, the Squid Vinegar.

I needed a wee-wee, it didn’t seem urgent, so I got the kettle on and nipped into the Throne Room. It was a trickling affair that must have taken five minutes to get rid of a few fluid ounces. Zipping up Little Inchies spy hole, I only just got it down again in time for the after-micturition to drip. Minutes later, the zipper was utilised likewise, and the same thing happened. Which must have been another five or six minutes! Worra life! So I decided to have a sit down as I waited patiently for the leaking to stop.

However, such matters… well, anything concerning the brains malfunctioning, mentally, like; is nowadays down to the Demoness Dementia Doreen, I’m afraid.
Like yesterday’s mind-blank in Bulwell, I think I lost about half an hour of memory. How could I walk all that way to the Poundland Shop without my recalling anything about it?
The worrying bit about this one was when I sort of realised where I was, in the shop, with some products already picked and put into the three-wheeler trolley basket; I didn’t panic at all. I seemed to feel lucky I wasn’t mugged or been run over.

Trying now, looking back, to find any other reason or cause other than Doreen. I lay there this morning musing over this incident and my reactions to it.  I know I had just had a lot of hassle with the Diabetes meeting going all wrong… The farce with the hearing aids and strangers trying to help me, well, they did, and that was heartwarming! But cataracts and deafness made it impossible for me to participate in the proceedings.
Disgustingly, I felt sorry for myself and sulked with the frustration of it all. It was immediately after my departure that the mind-blank occurred. This may be part of the causes of the blanks. I don’t get them often, but each time previously, they worried me. But this time, I just accepted the situation. I started fretting, later on, mind. Hehehe! I hope someone reads this who knows me, and friends and family… no, both of them, maybe then they’ll understand my situation better. The guilt at my self-centred actions is still fresh in my mind – I see that Dementia Doreen has not stolen that memory… Bitch!
There are bound to have been people in that room with worse ailments than I have, but all I could think of were mine. I intend to make some amends at the next meeting, and be upfront, and tell Nathanial about my needing to be facing any talker, even with the hearing aids in, and not facing any light or sunshine, to give my one semi-good eye a chance. And importantly, to apologise to the others for ruining their meeting. If they accept me back, this must be done.
Waffled on a bit there, didn’t I? Sorry!

Up A Bit More Today!
SYS 151, DIA 67 Pulse 72 (Down a smidgeon) Body Temperature, 34.3°f, excellent.
The room temperature was 81°f, and the outside one from the web information was 85f. Another warm one?
Put the numbers on the NHS DVT page and got this graph up. Not the photo of me and writing. That was me trying to be creative.

, Is kicking off early today. Blimey, it must be a big order; it’s been non-stop for ages. Nowt too loud this time, just sounding like annoying tap-tapping and scratching, scuffing sounds. Richard the Caring-Heart may have a rush job on… or not. He might be having a bath. Hahahaha! I am awful!

This on the left is the message I got back from the NHS about the test results. I offered a few comments on their comments and suggested recommendations and actions to take to lower the BP.

Got yesterday’s blog completed; it took a few hours. Posted it off, and I sent the email links. Went to make a brew of Glengettie, and ♫Oh, Susana♫ chimed out.
Samantha came in, and I’m delighted to report she was patient and listened to my tale of woe, from yesterday’s Diabetes Lesson, the mind-blank, the punch-up on the Vale, the foot-lady trying to sever my big toe, patiently! Bless her cotton socks!

I came across some more undecipherable parts of the reminder notes again. Just a line and a half of terrible scribble. Can’t work out many words, but it went like this… No, I’ll take a photo of it, and then someone may be able to read it and let me know. Hang on, I’ll get the camera…
Gorrit took a photo of it, and here it is on the left.
I think the Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters must have been offline when I wrote some of these notes, comical reminders.

♫Oh, Susana♫  burst into life again. It was the Amazon delivery lady with the boxes of various nuts I’d ordered.
Seems like a lot looking at the boxes, but they weighed very little, apart from one.
The delightful chocolate walnuts and white yoghourt cashews were a real treat for me.
The extra unique trial crisps of a sort I looked forward to trying with a certain relishness! Seaweed crisps and Shitakka dried mushroom crisps! I shall report on them after I’ve tried them. (Lower down) Cleared away the boxes to the waste chute and started making something to eat. Using the shortest use-by dates that I could read. Any I can’t read will have to be dished.

Success! Fishless fish sticks,  chips, tomatoes and two oven-baked bread rolls. Not classy stuff, but it suits my essentially lower-class, impecunious, plebian, proletarian and bourgeoisie upbringing. I was ten before I had my first hot meal, and I had to toast that on the coal fire. I tell a fib there, not intentionally. I’d get home from school and do my evening paper rounds to find the chipped enamel off-white bowl on the homemade kitchen sink lean-to, with a couple of Oxo cubes and some mouldy bread. There would be a note left somewhere “Dinner on draining board” Happy days. So this was a feast for me. Waffled on a bit there, again. Tsk!
The eyes are getting tired sooner every day. I’m hoping cataracts can be done sooner rather than later. They played a big part in my getting into such a mess, frustrated, and in the end, having the memory blank at the Diabetes session at the Riverside.

I had the meal and drifted off with the tray and things still on my knee. Got a couple of hours in. The tray was in the same position when I woke up.

Arrived; unfortunately, I’d just taken off my trousers. But Valerie always presses the doorbell, so I had time to get behind the door, wave my hand around it, asking her to wait a while. It’s job gerrin’ owd, innit! I’m not sure when Val is leaving, but I’ll miss her. She’ll miss me too; there may not be treats for her at the care home she’s going to work at. Hahaha!
After Val left for another hour or so, I nodded again, then got up to tend to the blogging needs.
But, being so tired, the concentration and eyes not working correctly – I got into the same pickle with CorelDraw as two days ago. It took me well into Monday morning to sort it out again. So no point in getting my head down now. At least I got some sleep in earlier. Humph!

Morning All!

Inchcock Today: Thursday 11th August 2022. Diary & Odes

I can’t understand why my Odes have not yet made me famous in the rhyme and poet-master circles. All that effort, too!

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0605hrs: I rose with thanks for being allowed to get in five hours of undisturbed time with Sweet Morpheus. Passing wind belched and detached my weight-ladened stomached body from the c198 recliner, and off to the wet room, and the . Where I passed the first half-hour of waking. Trotsky Terence had been beaten into submission by Constipation Konrad.
Oh, the agony! I couldn’t even try to do the crossword this morning. (It can take one’s mind off of the suffering sometimes, but not today). Things eventually started moving… a little, then stopped! I counted the crack in the ceiling plaster… same as last time, 36. Now there’s a thought; How can not remember so many things but am almost certain I could remember a silly, pointless detail like that? Back to the pain coping… I had visions of the bloody mess I was going to find when… or if the evacuation is ever completed.
I started talking to the evacuation product (I know, daft as a brush!). My faith was failing. Then I started wot think of the most ridiculous things, like, why have I never been interested in lepidoptery? Who’d have believed I’d end up with Doreen Dementia? Me! The calm one, the organizer, the carer…
The torpedo started coming out, and it was beyond my powers to slow or stop[ it. The pain grew worse and fortuitously. so did the escapage rate, and the last three-quarters of the turd almost flew out with a sickening thud as it landed, blocking the porcelain! 
Ah, blessed relief! I thought it would never free itself. Now to check on any damage done in the procedure!
. After all, that grinding pain and the gigantic, gargantuan torpedo having been slowly, oh so slowly, forced through and out, Harold’s Haemorrhoids had barely been bleeding! A few thin streaks of the old haemoglobin on the toilet paper, that was all. There was even little stinging pain, either! How come? All a part of the mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock, to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare, worry and confuse me! I suppose!

I got the take, with confidence from somewhere, that the results would not be anywhere as near as scary as yesterday mornings. I just knew not to worry. My EQ, telling me?)
Fair enough, it was still high, but if I remember rightly, it was 36 points less than Tuesdays was.
The body temperature once again was as near to spot on that you wouldn’t notice the difference!

I lost a couple of hours of the morning altogether. I had been doing something as I found later I’d written things on the remember-pad, but it’s in double-Dutch! And the kettle was hot when I went in the kitchen, but I’d not made any tea? Thankfully, these Mind-Blanks don’t happen very often. But they do concern me and are on the list to ask the Doctor about. But can I get someone to call the surgery for me? No! The trouble is, I forget all about it minutes later, until the next instance.

Arrived in a bit of a rush, but he never rushes me, bless him. But it meant quick talking and my missing some comments. But the lad had had a word with Deana about the paperwork he took with him to study and left it with Deana. No point in me keeping it; I can’t read it. He said that Deana will try to call on me later. This is out of sequence, as many other comments will be, no doubt/ I got very Confusion Konrad this afternoon and evening. Deana called later to confirm the booking for the lift with Easy Link. 10:30hr pick-up, to be outside to be collected. Later on, a nice-sounding lady land-lined me to confirm as well. That was nice! ♥

The steam-train building Herbert from the flat above was in fine form all day. No long periods of disruption, I must say. Just the regular clumps and banging, metallic sounds intermingled with some mini-concertos of a tap-tapping nature. Oh, and a cappella: Without orchestral accompaniment.

I just came across this writing on the notepad from hours ago. Any help would be appreciated as to what the heck it was I was recording; thank you. The dashes are undecipherable words: “Delug— 90% temp —– — —- — hoen –stly, —- forced sa–ey. Temp—— 94!” I may find time to have another go at making something out of it. Tsk!

  Now, for the cock-up of the day! If they gave out medals for Mind-Blanks, Forgetting and Insanity, I’d be in line for a gold medal after this incident.
The intercom rang forth: Someone telling me that they had a delivery for me.
❶ But the release button, yet again, did not work to admit the chap. I tried a few times, then said I’ll come down to you.
I had to get some trousers and shoes on, checked the intercom and could see the man still there, and rushed a little too much, and clouted Shuddering-Should-Shirley on the door frame! Agony again!
❸ Got down to the foyer, but no signs of anyone there.
❹ I assumed he had gotten on while I was faffing about to get down to him… Rushing again, I got the walking stick entangled in the lift elevator door. I now have a split-handled wooden walking stick.
❺ Got up to find the man looking around and bags near the flat door.
The man departed, and I started to get the bags into the kitchen. Then it dawned on me when I saw the Co-op label on some foods – I don’t recall making a Co-op order at all. I’ve just had a Morrison one yesterday. And, a few days before that, an Iceland one? Mayhap I did this during my Mind Blank hours?
Well, it had all the things that I might have ordered on the order. I must have made it, stupidly, cause there was not a thing I didn’t already have in stock on this delivery!
I’d even bought some bonkers-costly Mushroom Risotto.
More flipping chips and potatoes, too! I’d even got some more bottles of spring and tonic water!

Just as I was calming down after giving myself a verbal blasting for being so stupid… the intercom burst into like again.
It was another delivery, Amazon. And the Doctor thinks I do not have Dementia ‘properly’? I hope she gets it right when I snuff it, and she has to decide if I’m properly dead or not! Hehehe!
Depression came over me.
The chap had delivered the Lemon Sherbets disinfectants.
No problem with this one. I remember ordering these. I think! No, I did, definitely. Positively. Oh, dearie me!.

The temperature outside reached 92°f.
I gathered together all of the paperwork and reminder notes and what leaflets and letters had come in over the last few days, with the intention of perusing them to see which needed any assistance to read and understand.
.Which didn’t take me long to work out. Cause Cataract Cathy and Dementia Doreen made sure all of them needed some help. Some needed telephone calls; well, Deafness Duncan takes care of that.

Kicked off again. Tap-tapping, morse-code like this time. The stuck-up, toffee-nosed, self-important gentleman varied it for a minute or two; he decorated the tune with some clung-thuds. Kind of him. Ah, tap-tapping is back now.

Getting late now. Aha, ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ just sounded. It was evening who’d arrived. He seemed a smidgeon low to me. I might be wrong. I tried the jokes, my world-famous and light-hearted approach, but I couldn’t get a smile. So I offered the lad a bottle of shandy from the fridge. I had to make do with a half-hearted imitation smile. But that’ll do for me, I thang-you!

I’d like to know what’s making those noises above. They almost sound like he’s sat up there with a stick to keep tapping on the floor? I hope he’s not poorly.

Better get the ablutions done. I’ve already missed the first Diabetes lesson. I’ve already missed the first Diabetes lesson. I fear leaving it until morning again, with the transport also coming as mercifully, the top man, Nathanial, has told me he will stay behind to talk me through what I missed on the first course. Jolly decent of him, too!
State of the feet before getting the ablutions done here on the left. Off belatedly, to the wet room.
Three days of growth of the beard took some shifting. Only a few nicks. The teeth were painful to clean. Showering went okay, no knocks, falls, or Dizzy Dennis visits. Many many dropsies, mind you. Turned off the shower and dried off.
Yes, well… all were hurtful, to say the least. Germolene, Germoloid, and the worst of the lot… Little Inchies fungal lesion ointmentating! Arthur Itis and Cartilage Kathy were treated to some Phorpain rub.

I took an after-shower shot (Try saying that when you’ve had a few, Hehehe!) of the pins and plates.
Looking like they had been polished with Brasso or something of that ilk. Haha!

I settled in the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously, grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable of, not working, recliner. Put on a Dr Who DVD and was soon sleeping away like a baby – I wee’d myself overnight!

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Inchcock Today: Wednesday 10th August 2022 Ode to Doreen: Part 21.3⅚th

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I stayed up for a total of 29hrs; Gawd knows when I can finally get my head down again. CorelDraw mishaps, the main reason, and my stupidity in handling it. Today, CorelDraw has improved. But I still can’t get caught up with the blogging.
I did get yesterday’s finished; this afternoon. And am now making a start on this one at18:15hrs! So, note mong night in the offing! So this diary will be a bit shorter. Methinks I’ll never gerrit dun if not. Sorreh! Did you see that? I reverted to my early years Meadows upbringing slang! Hehehe!
The legs, ankles and feet were not looking so good, yet they were lass painfully than yesterday. One heck of shock after doing the sphygmomanometerisationing!
Glagnangles! The SYS was 186, DIA 63, & pulse 74. Blimey! The body temperature was great, though! Went on the NHS analysis site; interested in what they would comment on this figure.
I wonder if there will be anyone at the Riverside Health Centre on Friday who I can inveigle into doing a check for me on their machine? Well, you never know yer luck… No, hang on, it’s me we’re talking about, innit? Okay, forget it!
Arrived while I was making a mug of tea, my first one for 18 hours! Oh, I am good!
I told Richard about the eight pages of instructions from the C4N transport. The only bit I could read of the eight two-sided A4 paper and leaflet was what it is going to cost me. Very confusing it was. Richard had a quick look; he didn’t have much time, he’s got another client to see. Five minutes later, he said, “I can’t understand it either, Gerry! a right load of confusing waffle!” He kindly stuffed the paperwork into his bag of treats, telling me he’d have a look later on, and let me know if sorts owt out, in the morning. Bless his Cotton Socks!

The Morrison order arrived via the Amazon shopperess. I got the packages in the kitchenette.
I went for a wee-wee and returned to find liquid had been flowing from one of the bags, covering the kitchen floor. I’m not having a lot of luck these last two days, am I? A bottle of Tonic Water caps came off, and a litre of Tonic Water with a hint of lime had soaked through two of the other bags, and I had a right job sorting it out.
Got flowers put in the cool hallway for the warden’s treats.
Then made a start on sorting out the product delivered. kicked off.
Just as I was moving the things in this photo, as I was picking up the pin sprays… the top of one of the bottles shot off; at least I smell nice now, too nice for my comfort.

But dare not go put in these clothes with that sweet smell all over my torso and trousers. Tsk! I ordered a packet of vegan sausages and got a cheapo-ready meal of two sausages & mash in gravy. The limit on you could buy of Mash World chips (fries) as one packet!
The oven-baked fries were so unfrozen I felt the chips breaking up.
As I said earlier, I’m not doing very well lately. Humph!
Tried to phone Warden Deana, then Warden Julie, but both calls were diverted, so they must be up to the neck in it!

Got the fridge and freezer filled up. Tried to phone Warden Deana, then Warden Julie, but both calls were diverted, so they must be up to the neck in it!

Many Mind-Blanks now; I’m feeling right weary. The cataract eyes are making it even worse to see and concentrate. was so persistent today, and Reflux Valve Roger was having great fun with me.
Tried to phone Warden Deana, then Warden Julie, to get help with the transport letter reading and ask them if they could phone the Doctors for me. (Anne Gyna and Reflux Valve Roger), but both calls were diverted, so they must be up to the neck in it!
Deana rang back, and oddly enough, she said she was up to the neck in it today! I told her of the flowers and Strawberries, and if the DVT nurse came early and the Amazon nuts arrived in time, I’d nip them to the office for her.

Deana told me she arranged the transport for Friday’s Riverside Diabetes meeting. She needed the appointment list to arrange the others. Her voice told me she was up to the neck in it. She said she’s pop up later to pick things up. But never made it, up to the neck with it, you see.
Evening arrived as I was getting my din-dins out of the oven. A gorgeous but ridiculously costly roast Vegetable Risotto. I forgot to take a photo of it. Gave Valerie the strawberries and flowers. She was tickled pink. Haha!

I ate the risotto meal and, for a laugh, took a selfie of eating the last succulent forkful! There was not enough of it to get me. But £4 for a piddling meal is a bit much, thanks to Morrison’s, for the leaking tonic water. The crushed to bits cheese biscuits and squashed swiss rolls, too!

I cleared away the food things and took this snap of the view of the just missed sunsetting.
A quick wash, no shower or shave yet again today!
I must make sure tomorrow that I can get a mega-ablutioning session in. Not as easy as it sounds nowadays. Everything is taking so much longer to get done, thanks to the ailments and dementia-Doreen!

I put on a Dr Who DVD, and I was, not surprisingly soon, off into the land of nod. Where I stayed for nearly six hours of bliss!
Are things taking a turn for the better here?

Go forth and have a fiesta,
Fundamentally, fun!

Wednesday 27th July 2020

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WEDNESDAY 27th JULY 2022

At around 02:00hrs, I woke for the first time. In need of a wee-wee and got to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) in plenty of time for a change. But it must have been several minutes that I stood there waiting for the PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling) to complete its dribbling mission.
Back to the recliner, and I tried to reattain some sleep. Which, in a way, I repeatedly did. But it seemed like every five minutes, I was back to springing awake with a jump or jerk. Haha! The jerk is likely me.
During one of the sojourns to the grey plastic bucket, I realised how easier the ankle and foot felt. Several more wee-wees were needed, thankfully without the PMAD. So got the cannon, turned on the flash, and took a photo. That ointmentating last night has done me a lot of good!
I gave up on getting more sleep, and I got up around 06:00hrs and got the medical box out. Started. I got the readings and tool the usual photographicalisations of them, but they were not to be found on the camera card later? Nor last night’s nosh, either? A good job I wrote down the numbers; sometimes I don’t, just use the photo I’d taken. Input the results as above right. The BP was up a fair bit, the pulse a smidgeon, and the body temperature once again OK! Made the graph and waddled off into the kitchenette to get the first brew of the day going. I opted for Thompsons’ Punjana with semi-skimmed milk (that’s all I had in!). I saw a mass of smoke coming up from the far distance. In the Basford area, I think. But remembered abbot the card not taking photos. So took out the card to check the lock button, blew into the card holder slot, and reinserted it. Back to the window, and the smoke had got a lot less. I could see the blue lights flashing around the area. I went back to the computer and quickly checked the emails. Oh, dear! 
I found I’d got a J Sainsbury order that I thought was due on Friday. This is going to be fun getting the food in the already packed fridge… but I like a challenge.
Started on the WP comments; well, I got one anyway. And the JS order arrived nice and early.
The driver put the items into the two saved boxes and asked for a bag as well. Seems I got carried away again with the ordering; mind you, it’s good that I now have a lot of spring water in stock. If there is another heat wave, no doubt the panic buying will start again. The man out the stuff in the hallway for me.
Among the items purchased were mixed veg in water and whole free Jersey cow milk. Orange cordials, vegan seasonings, bleach. Tomatoes with basil and something else I can’t make out? More stuff; bananas, fresh pod peas, yellow tomatoes, and fish-free fish sticks. Strawberries and roses for the warden’s weekly treat. I’ll take them down later on to the Wardens holding cells for them.
Two first-time purchasers here; A different brand of burgers and some smokey cheese substitute. I’ll have to ask Richard to read the does & don’ts on the label in the morning. It feels very solid?
Back to the blogging, and just as I started getting somewhere: Smoke & Mirrors Man Mr Fries Liberty-Global, Virgin Media died a death again! More time lost! Still, it may be an integral part of one of his ambidextrousness, chicanery, and self-financial-defence mechanism?

He’s probably convinced his bosses that he is making such a cock-up of running Virgin Media on purpose. If enough of the fog boys are all driving the same f-up of service and ignoring customers and may go bust, take BT, for instance, just as bad. Then the value of those companies will fall, and Liberty-Global can either get more than the $23.3 billion they bought it for and sell it or pick up a few more internet companies for peanuts, and we can ruin them as well… It Doesn’t make sense, does it? But I can see in my minds-eye Fries conning his bosses like this. Smoke & Mirrors are his forte!
I don’t say these things lightly. And it is nothing to do with my being covetous of his manly looks, stubby-chin, masculine body. Nor jealously of his $23m a year salary, bonuses and expense account on top of it all, not to mention the grand back-handers and shares in the company he gets given. Or his gorgeous wife… Where was I?
Started getting a little persistent again. He must have a big order on for some school or church? He reminds me of Harold Shipman without his beard.
Finally got the ode added and finished yesterday’s blog. Doing this one will take ages with such a late start on it?
Put the computer to sleep, and I took the treats down to the Wardens holding cell in Winwood Court. Forgot to take the camera with me. Huh!
Got to the office, and I gave them a choice of plonk, the roses and strawberries, back up to the flat and carried on with this blog.

All I did was turn in the swivel chair to stand up, and an instant loss of balance hit me! Bounced off of the recliner, which was good, cause its well-padded. Rolled and gently plopped onto the floor, hitting my head on the table leg.
Going to turn it all off and sit quietly for a while, then hopefully get summat to eat. Not eating might have encouraged the Dizzy Dennis spell?

Back later. Well, I hope so. Hehehe!
I’m back…

Oddlimost Nosh for Ages…
Tons of pod peas, nothing but the best…
Black & yellow tomatoes with a tasty zest.
No-Fish Fish Sticks, on this plate, the sweetest,
Part-baked batch, the tastiest!
A banana, two pots of desserts,
Well, I was at my hungriest…
I hope it is easy to digest!

Checked on the Plates-of-meat…
The ulcer was looking a bit pink…
Water retention put the feet out of sync,
The bottom of the feet began to plink,
Will that ulcer ever shrink?
Involuntarily passed wind, what a stink!.
Caused the nosh, I think?.
When the carer’s been, I’ll wash and shave at the sink!

Evening Carer called, twas Valerie
Val handed two letters from the box to me,
She sorted the medications professionally,
Thanked her with a punnet of fruit, strawberry,
I felt a fart building, but I didn’t let it free,
Leaving, she took the waste bags to the chute for me!

Letters Investigated…
One letter was from the bank, the TSB…
A leaflet, ‘We are here to help, that’s contradictory,
Nottingham had 23 branches in 2003, now just one, sadly,
And that’s miles away, that’s due for closure shortly…
The other mail, from the Council, telling me…
To go on the internet for a details inventory,
Fill it in to be able to vote next January!

Late Ablutionalisation Session Thoughts In Ode
I look a little like I was growling?
The shower curtain shows its dolphin.
I’m stuck in the flat, not globetrotting,
Passing wind all the time, it needs fumigating,
Little Inchies fungal lesion exsanguinating,
The rear end began erupting…
My mind and concentration ever drifting,
Frequently self-condemning,
Inwardly waffling, bloviating,
Moments of lucidity were thin…
Two stubbed toes… so aggravating!
Moments of pure daydreaming,
Yet I was content, although inwardly waffling…
With the Thoughtstorms bludgeoning…
Battering my brain, but not concerning?
I finished off, the toes still twingeing,
But, no point in my minging or ologoaning…
Hello, can I hear someone phoning?

Watched the Football Match
I was overjoyed that it was won by Germany!
France winning would be Whoopsiedangleploppery,
If England had to face France, possible misery…
England can win a competition final, finally…
Although, it certainly won’t be easy…
The final is played next Sunday,
Huh, guess who’s kicked off; Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley!

That’s yer lot, can’t type in this condition. I’ll post this later.

I’m back: I nearly forgot Sister Jane rang me. The Police Pegasus has been in touch with her as a first-responder on the list. As soon as I heard this, I remembered the form they had sent for me to update my details. Carer Richard never got around to helping me fill it in, and I forgot all about it! What a twit! Jane rang them back and kindly called me back to say she had done it but had forgotten to tell them about the youths who came into the flat at 02:00hrs the other month. We are a pair for forgetting things! Hahaha!

Have a great day!

Inchcock’s Diary & ‘Today is Tomorrow Ode’

SUNDAY 24th JULY 2022
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I know I was awake until my last wee-wee bucket visit, which was around 03:00hrs this morning, and getting back to sleep came easily, for Sweet Morpheus has been very stingy with me of late.
It didn’t last long, about three hours, for, at 06:00hrs, I shot awake, certain that noise had woken me up! I had to fight my unwillingness to rise from the recliner and have a search around for ant signs of intrusion, damage from something falling etc., but found nothing looking untoward?

I got the computer going, and the card reader worked the first time! I put in the close-up shots of the legs and the pathetic evening meal (Although I did enjoy it!). I got the blog for yesterday, finished it, posted it and off to the wet room; I poddled limpingly.
CW05 The event went similarly to yesterday; Despite the innards telling me to let go and my input in trying to get things moving, it was painful, so much so that I gave up and waited for nature to sort things out. I had a go at the crossword while waiting patiently. I even got two more solutions in the grid.
But… as I stood up to check on things for bleeding and giving myself a good wipe and clean up, as I turned to return the much-used toilet roll, Dizzy Dennis hit me. I naturally put my hand out towards the wall to stop any prospective tumble or fall for me – and if I remember rightly, the following found their way to the floor, some of them via the ankle ulcer and bloated toes. The olive oil bottle, after-shave, crossword book and pen, the Germoloid tube, the Germolene tube, and a half packet of Protection Pants! After finishing off my personal medications, I tackled the item retrieving and even got a fresh pair of PPs changed into. If anyone has any surplus supplies of Germoloid ointment or cream, I can willingly take it off of their hands, only I forgot to order some, and am now have just maybe, enough for two medicationalisationings of Harold’s Haemorrhoids, thank you).

All sorted, I went to get a cold drink from the fridge and noticed that it had been raining a bit.
From the kitchenette window, I took a photo of the facing car park of Chestnut Way, an interesting bit of parking there,

Then, from the balcony, a snap of the Tree Copse, which only set me feeling sorry for myself now that I can’t go for my daily ramble through it.

Back into the cookhouse and started to p[rep the veg for Josie’s meal. I took another shot from close to the window to try and catch a decent image of the rain hitting the glass. My eyesight seemed a smidgeon worse this Sunday. To all intents and purposes, the spots were running down the glass; when I took off my spectacles, they were not and just seemed stuck like glue in the positions they were already?
I went through my collection of old glasses; to see which helped better… or rather hindered my sight the least. I found that the oldest reader pair and ricketiest were for computing work. Normal or long distance, none of them helped. I hope they summon me soon for the cataract to be done.

Got the medical checks sorted out next.

SIA 134, DIA 79 and the pulse oas a reasonable 85bpm.

The body temperature was 33.3°f, with a target of 35°f, it was well acceptable to me.

Not the lowest SIA, but the combination of resusults, when put in the NHS Work it out site, showed me still in the orange Pre-High stage, and yesterday and this morning are the only times it’s been so low. Proof that mt Doctor is winning the battle to get my BP down. Thank you, Doctor Vindla. It only took you six years from the heart op to get it right… well, nearly right. (Ahem!)

Carer Joseph arrived. The poor thing looked shattered. The first thing I did was ask him how he was this morning? Not too bad, was his reply. I quipped; well, not too bad is better than not very good, Joseph! That brought a rare smile to his face, and it cheered me up too. He got the meds sorted and wearily got up from the chair where we’d had a natter from, picked a vodka and lime as his choice of drinkie-treats, and off he poddled. With my thanks and instruction for him to get to bed, Hahaha!

I spent a few hours getting the blog prepped, and I made some quote tabs to use on CorelDraw. When I nipped to the fridge to see what was available to quench my sudden hunger and thirst… there was nothing! How had I let myself run so low? I blame only one person and one thing, the person, is undoubtedly me, is the thing! I’ll have to make an order for next week to be delivered, Sainsbury’s methinks.

I got the final vegetables sorted and chopped up and into the pan of the cooking Chilli-Con-Carne. It was looking okay, and after a spoonful found its way to my lips, I declared it as being Josie-ably tasty! I nipped back to the computer to get some prep work done on that. and plan to return to the cooking to stir things a bit regularly. But I got carried away, so I had to get a move on… What a plonka! But it got worse!
After a few minutes, I’d got the nosh for Josie on the tray. Took this photo of the repast. The usual bowl and a potfull of chilli for her to have tomorrow as well, some drinkies from the fridge, cheese, marshmallows and a few extras on the tray. Off to Josie’s door to deliver it, on time again, of course.

As she opened the door and said straight away: “There’s more than ever this time, Gerry! It dawned on why I’d made so much. I was going to have the Chilli as well, but somehow I forgot and gave it all to Josie. Ah, well, it’ll last her for three meals now. Hahaha! Josie seemed pleased enough with it. I wished the gal good eating, came back into the flat and promptly cursed my stupidity!
I did some work on this blog, and then I had a look in the freezer. Aha, fish and chips? That’s what I’ll have then. Got it sorted, and in the oven cooking, the writing was too small to read. so I guessed at the time needed. I assumed it would be around 40 minutes. Then a brainstorm forced me to mop the kitchen…

Oh, dearie me…

Got back to check on the food, and it was looking good.
Notice, I did not say it tasted good…
It tasted truly crap; I was puzzled at how foul the NoFish fish tasted!

I put the pots in the sink to soak, returned to the chair, and got down to get some much-needed sleep – so I put the TV on; that usually helps me nod off. And did this time for once. But I was in desperate need of some.
Over two hours later, I was rude;y awakened from my slumber as the night Carer arrived. She looked a little down and tired, so I had a chat and cheered her up a bit. She was well-impressed with her treat, a bottle of Tequila beer from the fridge. But didn’t take the waste bag with her to the chute for me. Humph! Hehehe!
Can’t imagine what I’d been doing in the sleep to cause this on my arm? I got the magnifying glass out for a closer, Sherlock Holmesian-style investigation into the mystery. But it was no good; the glass did not help me see any clearer. So, I ytied a few pairs pf the old spectacles; the black ones helped a little. I’d got a spotty rash coming up the arm, and a some beneath my man-breasts too? Mmm? Another of mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me!

I had a peep out of the kitchenette window, it was not raining, and the roads had dried of the residue.
Seeing this road reminded me of an article I’d read on the YourArea website about the Grove. So I looked on the map to get its name for us. As you see, it was Applewood Grove. No crime reported in 2021? Even we at Winwood Court Independent Living, for the aged, managed about eight reports? Hehe! Then, around midnight, I took this somewhat pathetic photo of the evening view. Even I could see on the camera screen that it was not going to come out very well. It turned out that I’d moved the view mode selector in the wrong direction, and I’d put it on video instead of Auto? Writing this made me realise I’d written an ideal description for my life: ‘Gone in the wrong direction!’

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It’s true, Today is Tomorrow, or say…
Alternatively, Tomorrow could be, Today,
Neither could be both, whichever way,
Unless you just wait until the following day…
I suppose you think I’m mad, straightaway?

At times my mind tends to drift far away,
Or I’ll not know if it’s Monday or Tuesday…
This often happens on Friday, actually…
But the brain is working fairly well, unusually,
I’ll try not to topically lose it or fade away…
For I have thoughts to share today…
That may seem to you partly disillusionary,
But it may clarify our vocabulary and ancestry!

I believe that time has been too discretionary,
“Standard time” in effect for a shrinking portion yearly,

Daylight saving time, controlling the clock monthly,
Lawmakers have extended summertime schedule, surely…
Clock changes vary, with locations yearly…
Consequently, the time differences will have to vary…
Between regions, to understand it can send you silly!

Clocks, time changes, and days are not like a barometer…
Mankind toys with time, but are they right or full of blatter?
The world will soon be ending, so does it matter?
There will be no humans to worry about hereinafter…
No money to steal, no murderers, no laughter,
It’ll no longer be a disgrace to be a grammaticaster!

We have changed so much, without knowing…
Or caring for any costs in life and consequences,
Again, the ‘Lord’ is not revealing…
Although his Fathers and Priests are appealing…
The well-off are revelling…
The poor are trembling and dying,
Politicians, Bankers constantly fiddling and lying!
Scum balls murdering, mugging and burgling…
Firebombing, divorcing, schemozzling, little elutriating!

So time means… almost nothing,
Earth’s final moments are here, thanks to the Kremlin,
And people throwing recyclables in the dustbin…
We’re killing more people now than Nazi Berlin,
You’ll have paid for your pension and coffin…
But fret not; hope lies with a clever boffin!

Working on a time machine, so we can go back in time…
Preferably to a time before cybercrime,
Where workers were paid overtime!
Murderers were duly hung and did no more crime!
When folks knocked on doors and did not press a battery-powered chime!
Thus saving future generations would that be benign?
Note that this option would not be sublime…
For two reasons that come to mind!.
Who do you think would get to travel back in time?
Only the rich, politicians, and or the bosses of crime!
Earth of the future may soon design…
Another machine to travel through time…

They may go back to your current placing?
Having loaded nuclear weapons before leaving…
We’ll soon have time-machines to and fro racing…
And in the turmoil of war, wanting to be leaving…
Will be earlier time travellers, needing bullet-proofing…
God may send his lad down for some investigating…
I can hear him now “What the hell have you been doing?”

If you can get the chance, you’ll travel back to now…
Chances are, you can start again. but I’m not sure how,
Cause the time will have changed somehow?

Life may have restarted: a few cavemen on earth now?
Show them a torch, and they’ll kowtow,

Get to know them, have a powwow…

Soon, of profits, you’ll begin to think!
And suddenly put up with the cavemen’s stink,
Invent money, sell them coats, strip a mink,

Flog them an insurance policy and glasses if they wink,
Get them working cheaply, so they don’t get skint,
Build an army, police force, and a clink!

Mind you, I have to say…
More time travellers could arrive any day…
You must stop them, find a way…
If you can’t, alackaday…

Today can be Tomorrow or Tomorrow Today!

I Fang You!

Inchcock Today: Short Diary & an Ode

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SATURDAY 23rd JULY 2022

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I rose, mentally weary and physically so tired. Sweet Morpheus has been unkind to me for a few days. Not much sleep at all.

I pottered about, starting many things and drifting merrily off to such others. Not many saw completion or fruition.
I found some photos that were supposed to have gone on yesterday’s blog. Last night’s meal. A veggie dinner and veggie ice cream, not that the brain was clear enough, but I think it was nice and tasty. I gave the memory an 8/10 score. Apart from the beetroot, which tested my loose teeth. Which reminded me, I must remember the Dentist’s visit on Monday!
arrived and sorted out the medications. I noticed when I opened the new bag that some of the same medicines had shorter-dated packs at the bottom of the drawer. Of course, there were only a few that I could read the date on, thanks to the Cataracts. The carer soon got me sorted. Didn’t want any drinkies or nibbles and left leaving the waste bags in the hallway. I didn’t think to ask her to take them; a new gal is not up with the system yet. Nervous and weary, but nice enough, bless her.
It was a bit colder this morning, a lot, in fact.
I took some photographicalisations from the kitchen window.
Then went on the computer – that was it; I spent around eight hours doing odeing and never got around to starting this actual blog!

Had a shower, shave and a sh… well, we’ll leave that bit. Not that it was a bit. A Constipation Konrad controlled session. Firm, painful and in the end, a little bloody, Harold’s Haemorrhoids suffered.

Then realised I’d not done the Health Checks yet. So I did!


Yet again, an overall lower than ever before result! Phenomenal

I started on an Ode for the top of this blog. And it took me hours to get done. Mind-Blanks! Kungleturds! My efforts were accompanied by Herbert’s mechanical and metal cacophony concert.

Nearly tea time now. It won’t be long until the evening carer is due. What happened to the time?

Mind you, every wee-wee was followed by  , and Little Inchies a few times, which cost me a lot of lost time. I’m still tired, is slowing me down now. I’m struggling with using CorelDraw. The keyboard keys blend into each other. Grollocks!

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My daily walk through the tree copse mattered…
If I tried it nowadays, I’d be devoured…
By various ailments pains, again and again…

Can’t get up the hill or down in the subterranean…
Would it help me if I took some cocaine?
Or a few more Codeines for the pain?
I’d likely end up an addicted crackbrain?
Better not think of doing this then…
Should I be eating bread that’s multigrain?
I hope the cataract is done soon, my vision to regain…
Oh, dearie me, I need the Throne made of Porcelain…

Bloody Constipation Conrad; he’s barbaric!
I lost blood from the piles, trapped something in the seat of plastic!
The rock-hard evacuation nearly sent me ballistic!.
Sorry, I mustn’t be so melodramatic…
Little Inchies fungal lesion bled; it’s only miniaturistic,
It’s no use me being all nostalgic,
Or far-seeing and nostradamic,
And I’m not getting into a tizwas or panic…
Even with all my ailments, and now I’m osteoarthritic…
I intend to learn how to be optimistic,

Being depressed has been making me feel sick,
As do people who call me a prick…
For having such a tiny man-dick…
Bullies, gangs, fiddling MPs, Doctors charlatanic…
I find these scumbags are lowlife, oxymoronic,
They concern, bother me, even if I’m thanatognomonic,
Dementia Doreen, toys with all things mnemic…
Dates, appointments, names, days… it could be hilaric…
But with me, there are other things to make me feel despotic,
Peed off, humiliated, and depressogenic…
I’ve forgotten what they are; because I’m a schmendrick!

Yet I used to be known as being hyperdynamic,
I’m so fat naturally; I’m not bulimic,
I don’t see the end of mankind as cataclysmic…
If there is a God, our actions must have made him sick…
If St Peter wants to send me back to earth again… Horrific!
One failure is enough for me; that would be so dramatic.
Unless he assures me this time, my man-worm will be pythonic!
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Turned the Computer off and thoughts of food developed. But there are not many choices fresh-wise, and I’m too tired and shaking to bother too much.

I decided first to take some close-up photos of the ankle and feet. Here they are on the left here. The left foot is getting worse, but the right one with the ulcer is far easier and better looking tonight.

The left toes and foot had lost a lot of fluid. The right one was still retaining a lot of water. Walking remains more like hobbling and a smidge risky when the PN wobbles and shakes come on while getting around the flat.

Ah, off to the wet room. A tough evacuation that almost brought tears to my eyes. Washed up, and I medicated poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids.
Then back to pondering on what to have to eat. Well, I was not interested in cooking, and the tiredness decided me to have a quick snack. A pot of pot noodles, with extra seasonings, added. Liquid smoke and BBQ sauce. A pot of instant potato with liquid salt, soya bacon pieces and more BBQ sauce. A few sad-looking slices of dry bread to dip into the noodles and wrap up some of the potatoes to make a sarnie out of.
The picture looks terribly sparse, unappetising, a pathetic meal. That is because it was all these things!
Yet… maybe because of Sweet Morpheus’s determination that I will not get any sleep, combined with his success in doing this, I enjoyed the nosh. I think a Taste-Rating of 6.5/10 would not be over-gracious?
Even though I fell asleep eating it! Woke and finished it off and drifted into the land of nod again. I think it must have been a deep one, cause I reckon I was dreaming I was sleeping… and great joy was floating in my mind, peaceful…
♫Oh, Susana♫ burst out from the door chime box six foot away in front of me. It jerked me awake, and Valerie came into the room, and instantly the tiredness hit me again. I’d only been sleeping for five minutes! I was hoping to stay in the recliner while Valerie gave me the medications, then I could nod off again when the gal had finished, but no!
Valerie needed some medications, and I got up and hobbled into the kitchenette to get her some from the medicine drawer.

Valerie gave me the doses, and I had a little natter with her. She pointed out that my Stuttering-Stephanie habit was a lot worse tonight. I’d not noticed? Why I wondered? And stayed not knowing!) I can’t remember if I offered her any nibbles or not? I hope I did. I think I stayed in the chair as she left after I thanked her.
But there was no sleeping early tonight for me. I soon realised I’d not locked the door. So, what with the memory of the yobboes coming in at two in the morning still fresh in my mind, I had to get up and go to lock the door – Not a hard task, really…
However, stubbing my toe on the way back against the clothes airer ensured a minor curse word was emitted, thus, cocking up any chance of getting to sleep early!

After an hour or so, I gave up and put a DVD on. Humph!

Inchcock: Wednesday’s Diary & Ode

The moon landing was expensive in terms of costs and men dying…
But had to be done cause of Uri Gagarin…
Space race? The Russians were now leading,
First to the moon, the USA not conceding…
Conspiracists said the films were misleading,
Shadows in the wrong place, the flag was waving…
The trip took 109 hours, 42 minutes, launch to landing,
About the time it took me to get to see Dr Sanding…
Then she wasn’t there, more complex than a moon landing!.

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Inchcocks Diary

Approx 05:30 hours, I stirred back into life and promptly tumbled out of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not working recliner. There I was, on my bum, with one leg on the swivel chair and the other bent awkwardly but somehow under the chair. And in a bit of a predicament! I stunned myself for a smidgeon. (Obvious to me that I’d been doing some tossing and turning and edged towards the front of the chair? Can’t recall any dreaming.)
I could sense the wet warm flow of blood in the Protection pants, which would be either Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, or Harold’s Haemorrhoids, whichever or both, the need to get up and investigate, clean and medicate things was causing a bit of a panic in me. (I panic so well!) There was an urgency to my need to somehow get back up and onto my feet…
In my sad, messy manoeuvring painfully, first back on the chair, then onto my feet, I stubbed my same, the same one twice, which with the swollen feet and toes was worse than usual. I slipped my arm off the side of the recliner, getting up. Hitting my chin on the corner arm. No time to mess about, though, and I got Metal Micky, and we hobbled to the wet room. Bit of good fortune here. It was only Harold’s Haemorrhoids that were bleeding. Thus it was far less painful to medicate than the lesion would have been. The toes and chin were enough to keep my attention.
I did notice the vast improvement in the ankle ulcer, though, compared to Tuesday evening’s photo, this morning was much calmer and swollen looking. It must have been around an hour after waking that I started to think the day’s needs through. Food order to do, ask Meridian if they have sorted anything out with the Diabetes session. Get Richards’s treats sorted out. Got to… No, I’d better have a wee-wee first. And what a leak that was! Galore, and one of the longest wee-wees that I’ve ever taken! And they kept coming throughout the day!

The Blood Pressure sphygmomanometerisationing was yet another great set of results: SYS 44, DIA 62 and the Pulse, a smidgeon up, at 91 bpm!   
The body temperature had risen to an almost perfect figure, at 35.1°f.
Interruption: The landline burst forth; it was a very hard-to-hear and understand lady (I think?), from the dentist’s surgery, on Mansfield Road. Reminding me of my appointment next. Plenty of time for me to forget it, though.
I input the BP numbers into the NHS Work-it-out site. (Left graphic wot I sun) It came out the same as yesterday! Don’t know why I made a sad face on it?
I got the computer on to finalise yesterday’s blog and found the SD car was reading again? I swiftly got the few, well, three photos from yesterday that I could not get on done. Then titivated the blog and felt a smidge smug, but what with my luck in waking up and thudding to the floor, I thought it best not to get too confident.

The lad was worn out, and I was his last call. Richard arrived, and I thanked him for getting me some help yesterday, and I flashed him my much better-looking ankles… Hehehe! He warned me that thunderstorms were forecast for this afternoon. I thought it was a lot cooler today. We had a little natter, too and froing, and a laugh or two. This is good then; when he’s not too tired, he can spend a little longer with me, chinwagging. Gave him some treats in thanks, and off he trotted, in much need of his bed.

I am walking much better this morning after the initial waking-up boo-boo! Not having to walk on the heels today shows how the swelling has gone down in the legs and feet.

Although the toes still look like baby ones. Hehe! And, the bruise under the chin has not given me any bother at all! Even Arthur Itis in the knees has calmed done.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out from the door chime. It was neighbour Josie, returning Sunday’s crumb-covered tray and dishes from her meal. I’m not sure which of us is the worst, Hahaha! The poor gal didn’t look too well. I pointed the walking stick at my feet and said they were much better. Josie replied, “Yes, very good; I’ll try to…” Smiled and wandered back into her flat. I’m not sure who is the worst with Dementia and our lousy hearing. Hahaha! I tried to work out what she thought I had said but without success. Bless her ♥

Noise merchant Herbert from the flat above kicked off with his tap-tapping, the odd thud, and scuffing noises thrown in. He kept it u[ for hours on and off. He must have a special job lined up? Hello, I think he just dropped a box of tools. Ah, the drilling and grating noises have started now; he must be getting on with it, bless him. Back to the tap-tapping again…

I finally got the blog finished and posted off to WordPress. Went on the comments page. I had tons come in. But got them both answered. Then nipped on the WP Reader. Now it is time to get the ablutionalisationing tended to; and check Harolds Haemorrhoids, amongst other ailments. Hehehe! Back soon. Well, I hope to be back shortly.
I’m back. And what a good session that was! Only one teeny-weeny cut shaving on the chin where I ‘Chin-Butted’ the arm of the chair first thing this morning getting back up from the floor after my tumble out of the chair. No toe-stubbing, no Dizzies, I walked into nothing either. I have a mini involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance while I was shaving, hence, the little nick.
Had a wee-wee (it must have been number twelve of the day at least) and remembered what Carer Richard said when he was checking the use-by dates for me; “I’ve never seen yer with so little in yer fridge!”. So, I investigated and made an order for Iceland. They have no bottled water in stock either. So I ordered some low-cal lemonade. I must keep up with the drinking in this hot weather while the legs and feet retain so much fluid. Coming in the morning twixt 06:00 > 08:00hrs.
As I started prepping the meal, I remembered the last Iceland delivery I’d had last week. The squashed bananas, the leaking bottle of liquid soap, short-dated yoghourt… and of course, there not having any of my beloved No Bull burgers or bread I ordered in stock. And the crap substitutions… I may have made a mistake here…

Had a tin of curried beans that I seasoned with the usual squid vinegar, malt vinegar and Vegan BBQ sauce. Put a part-baked loaf in the oven halfway through cooking. The beans and bread were excellent, but the veggie burgers were terrible; the crispy crumbs were not crisp. How clearly now, after making the order, one remembers one’s self-promise never to trust or use Iceland again! Being low on choices with the low stocks in the fridge, I decided to use up the crap and substituted it with Iceland bean burgers in crispy breadcrumbs.
As instructed, I got my feet up on a chair and sat watching TV. I soon nodded off, but could I stay asleep? Not a chance!

When I gave up on sleep, I took a photograph of the ankle ulcer and feet, and they looked so much improved from how Tuesdays were. The toes remain a bit pudgy. The retained fluid, giving me rock-hard legs, was also reduced.
.
The ♫Oh, Susana♫ tune chimed out, and in walked Valerie. She was a little happier tonight. Got the medications sorted, and I gave her a can of cold orange Fanta from the fridge; she liked that. Val took the waste bags with her on her way out.

I settled down to watch the England Ladies Game v Spain. I’ve never been more proud of an England team since 1966! I wish could have been France we beat, though. That would have been the icing on the cake. We will have to play against Sweden or Belgium, if we get through, France will have to be conquered!

ODE TO SELF-IRRISION & DERISION

I no longer have inspiration and very little gumption,
Life for me is sinking into declension…
Dementia means I’ve little recent memory retention,
Yet sometimes recall things, to my stupefaction…
I’m waiting on the EENT to have an operation,
For my cataracts, called Phacoemulsification,
I persistently wee-wee; and have hypertension.
I’m almost deaf, yet have tintinnabulation?

Arthur Itis, Ankle ulcer, and fluid-filled legs, with many a contusion,
Peripheral Neuropathy, a mechanical ticker, destitution…
I think St Peter should give me restitution!
Should I have been born? Am I a substitution?
Was I meant to be a boy or girl? That’s the question…
Parents named Inchcock, during gestation…
With a man-tool the same size, did my prospect worsen?
Unfortunately, I can’t make past miseries unhappen.

At birth, Mother said, ‘I don’t want it; I was crestfallen…
No wonder, as a youngster, I was so sullen!
Slowly my resistance began to weaken…
I lived on lard sarnies and Iprobrufen…
I asked every adult I met for an adoption,
I ran away from home, I had no option…
I went for shelter from Auntie Gretchen,
She just threw me out of the kitchen!

The next day, I hobbled back home, downfallen…
I got in and spoke, hoping they would listen.
No one knew I’d gone; my life never started to glisten?
My developing years were misery and rotten…
Then Mother was freed from jail; she’d been forgotten…
Laughing and being happy was then verboten…
I left school at 14 and got a job baling cotton!.

Depressed, I considered becoming an anthropophaginian,
There was a week when my life seemed ambrosian!
Matilda was her name, an arithmetician,
Randy? No need to ask her for her permission!.

But she turned out to be a Pinoccohian,
Not only that but an absinthian,
I returned to Nottingham, working as a beautician.

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Inchcock Today: The Dream, Odes & Diary

Nocturnal Visitors

I stirred from my slumber,
I’d had a dream, but could I remember,
I checked to make sure I was sober…
Nodded off again, I woke to discover,
Scribble on the notepad, needing to decipher.
The following facts are what I managed to gather…

Start of the dream, I looked out and got in a lather…
Ghosts and Goblins in the sky, but no bother…
Indeed I tried with them to have a blatherer…
Then did an instant maneuverer…
I was in the ground floor link corridor?
The ectoplasms, ghosts, got grotesquerer!
In walked animals, a skele
ton, and a roboton!
Probably others too that I’ve forgotten!

Not the weirdest dream that I’ve begotten,
Didn’t bother me; they did nowt rotten…
Oh, the Grim Reaper, he looked sullen…
One of the creatures looked like a wivern.

As I woke up, I was thunderstrucken,
I fell out of the chair, hit my knee it got swollen,
I took a Codeine for the pain to dullen…

As I woke up, I was thunderstrucken,
I fell out of the chair, hit my knee it got swollen,
Better make a start on the diary; it’s gone eleven!

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

Tuesday 12th July 2022

So, a modicum of concentration and determination developed, and I motored on with the Blood Pressure utilised the A&D Medical Supplies, made in Chinese sphygmomanometer. Then did the body temperature. All the results were of an acceptable standard this jolly Tuesday morning. In particular, the temperature and pulse are almost within the set result target ranges. Then after having a natter with the family, nada Lillie the Lamb checking on my notepad and keeping herself up to date, it is time to get the ablutions done.
I stripped off (I do a lot of that, you know) and made my way to the wet room… where I easily and simultaneously stubbed my toe on Sock Glide Glenda as I was taking the hearing aids out and dropped one and out popped the battery. With cataracts, I could not follow the multi-circular route taken as the battery spun around. I’ve got plenty of batteries to use, but it’s so annoying when one escapes. Hehe! Things went well enough after that for a while. The teeth (painful), then shaving (only one cut!) were completed, showering and on to the drying off… Ah, a slight chance of luck now!
The Wee-weeing sessions restarted and were uncomfortable. The pants that had been half on at the time of the Accifauxpa were mostly blood-red in seconds! They were all of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible Trickling) style. But this was nothing compared to what the state Peripheral Pete’s caused me! I’d done the medicationalisationings and was getting into a new pair of protection Pants, and off went the right leg on the Neuropathic dance routine! A bit frisky this one was, and I last my balance and hot my newly washed and medicated wedding tackle against the sink edge.

I realised later that I had also knocked out another tooth, bruised the eye slightly, and somehow, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were leaking too! It took me ages to get everything sorted out; a good job that the carer was a little late. I was cleaning up the wet room mess I’d made when I realised there were some, just a few new spots of blood on the floor? I must have caught the scab on the burn mark on the knuckles. But it was nothing like the blood for Harolds Haemorrhoids, the tooth or fungal lesion: they were all the usual deep red type. This was almost pink… I think? It stopped of its own accord a minute or so later. Worra Day!
Carer Richard arrived, and he was in a rush. Rich was coughing a lot; I hope he’ll be alright. He’s got a diabetes session to attend this morning, I reckon he said.
Wished him all the bestest as he left with some treats; then, I had a closer look at the ankle’s ulcers. Well, what a surprise, they haven’t looked this calm in months. I’ve forgotten the rest of the ditty? Ah-well, win some, lose some…
After what seemed an aeon, I got on with the blogging. I meant to say, earlier on, about 02:00hrs, (Yes, Sweet Morpheus is not pleased with me! I looked at the calendar, and I was sure I’d ordered an Iceline order to come today. So I checked on the website. It told me I had no orders, so I got on the J Sainsbury site and made an order with them for tomorrow.
You see, this Friday, I have the first Cataract operation, so I will be virtually blind afterwards, then I’ve got to go back for an examination to see if it’s worked okay. So, I intend to get the cupboards and fridge filled up before I leave cause there is a chance they told Jillie when she phoned them that I may be kept in, in the event any Whoopsiedangleplops during the operation.

Then a while later, NokiaI got a message on my G6⅘ths Ultra-modern mobile phone. It was from Icel
and informing me that my delivery that they told me was not ordered), will be delivered shortly? Now, I’ve got a J Sainsbury order coming tomorrow as well! Could things get worse? Well, yes, and they did! Humph! The products were in liners, not carrier bags…

Iceland had No Vegan beefburgers, no milk roll bread (sent a substitute loaf), Bananas soft and three of the five burst open; the pot of No-Bull vegan ice cream was in liquid form, a right mess. To clean up! – You would not believe the state of the food! The strawberries were squashed, the biscuits in crumbs and one of the packets of AAA batteries card and plastic retainer shell was off; it was never seen – I just collected the eight batteries from the depths of the wet food. This was one of the worst deliveries I’ve ever had from them.

Still, on the bright side, I’ve got food galore in the fridge; I’ve probably not got room for the Sainsbury’s stuff to get them in on Thursday. However, the ice cream will likely take months to harden enough to eat. I suppose I could drink it? Both pots!
Oh, and the bananas tasted okay, just a shame that I paid for five and only two were edible, and they were bruised inside, and I had to watch what I was eating. Oh, never mind! The lid on the jar of beetroot was loose, and…

At long last, I got onto the blogging, and the door-chime burst forth. It was Josie returning Sunday’s utensils from her meal. As I took the tray and things from her, I told her I had some strawberries for her, asking her to hang on while I fetched them. When I returned to the door with the fruits, Josie had gone back into her flat.

I’m not sure which of us is worse than the other, she or me, for hearing, and we both guess at what is being said, I think sometimes. Hahaha!
I told her about my going into the hospital to have my cataracts seen on Friday and then Monday for a follow-up. Then I said I’ll see if see enough to do you a meal or not come Sunday. But I expect not. She laughed and… I think anyway, “Yes, I’ll be in for lunch on Sunday…” Of course, I could have misheard her; she definitely misheard me… Hahaha! As she ook the Strawberries, she said she felt guilty about me making the fodder every Sunday. I said it was my pleasure… “Can I get some bananas for you at the weekend?” I put my thumbs up and smiled…

Int life great when yer gerowd? Har-har!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I was wondering about my hypertension…

Is it cause Neil Kinnock is a distant relation?
Or cause I’m still waiting for the Vicar’s confirmation…
Or my habit of losing track and digression?
Why do I want the go through teleportation?
Doctors can’t cure my dying neurotransmissions,
Leaving me forever with derision & indecision…
Am I too soft, believing in nonaggression?
I’m full of fear and misapprehension,
I’d love to free myself of my mental tension…
Is the answer to commit self-decommission?
Do I need some physiological remission?

Can’t go on like this; I must make a decision…
I can’t cope with mental corrosion, confusion,
Be positive, become more Sherlock Holmesian,
Drugs, are they the answer, but I’ve an aversion…
Maybe I’ll try some Columbian?
Do I even deserve help? Or vilification?

Evening All!

Inchcock Today

Which inspired Pro. Bill Ziegler to start building his Space & Time Machines in his basement. For his latest one, he took his beloved HRH Petal-Lisa with him. They sent me this photo.

Bill, now known worldwide as Professor Ziegler, PhD, In Humanitarian Studies. Initially based in Cincinnati, since the success of his Time Travel experiments, he is now operating from Paris (2049), Palestine (1974), Nottingham (Current), Germany (1925-1945-2015), Outer Mongolia (1911)and Britain (1155 years BC). He has been assigned by the FBI, CIA, Walt Disney Jnr and Joe Biden to nip back and get proof of fiddling in the last US elections. Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Well, it’s not Telstar, but earth’s moon. I took a photo when I got up. What is impressive is I went and put the kettle on, and I’m talking about eight hours ago now, and I still haven’t made a mug of tea! Gobsmacking!

After faffling about starting many jobs and tasks, having to visit the Porcelain Throne a few times, and forgetting what I was doing beforehand… repeatedly, I started getting the photographs on the blog. Then realised I had not begun to prepare Josie’s Sunday meal yet. So, I did! Although I began to do well in the task at hand and maintained a modicum of concentration…

I prepared the vegetables, tomatoes, leeks, garden peas, soya and mushrooms in the saucepan. Then the beans and chilli were seasoned into pan two… I was almost at the stage of developing a Smug-Mode… until! . Oh, dearie me, a classic Whoopsiedangleplop, with an Accifauxpa to follow…
I’d just tasted the chillies before transferring it to the veg pan; and thought a squirt of more distilled vinegar would be a good idea. (It wasn’t). As I took off the bottle cap, the neurotransmitters failed, and I ended up juggling the bottle, getting soaked in vinegar, and layering the kitchenette floor with the escaping contents…

I had to delay the nosh-sorting to clean up the floor and my clothes. Then got in a spot of minor Conrad Confusion state. I was unsure of what to do first, sort the food? No, that’ll make the mess worse walking through it. So, into the wet room and got the mop and bucket out. And… that couldn’t have come at a worse time for me… I hit my knee on the sock-glide getting to the mop & bucket, and Cartilage Cathy kicked off, and I ended up moping the floor while using Metal Mickey, the walking stick! Not an easy thing to do! I had to stop and get some Phorpain Gel rubbed into the right patella. I was making things worse instead of better. However, when I dropped the mop and bent to retrieve it, a severe stab of pain and the cap had returned to the socket, no longer painful, just a smidgeon sore. Haha! Had my luck changed? No!

The door chime chimed, and in walked a late and not a very happy-looking carer, Joe. I rushed to finish the floor; it took about five minutes or so. I hastened to Carer Joe to take the medications; Joe met me at the door, anxious that he was not delayed any longer, as he had a lot on. Took the tablets, gave Joe a choice of tipple and nibble and went to the door to see him off. I forgot to ask him to take the waste bags. But I was feeling guilty for keeping him waiting. A low point in the day. But at least the kitchen floor was done.

I was still in a, well, erm…, a nervous state, I think. Still not happy with me getting mixed up and keeping Joe waiting, although he was far behind, he didn’t moan at me. I took a snap of the end car park from the balcony… that did not cheer me up in the least; It just brought back the problems I’m having with Facebook taking off all of my photos of the car park, the meals and me medical ones… others as well.
I’ve stopped using Facebook now..
. I’d like to close down my account altogether. Why are my photos not keeping to the standards of Facebook? I’ve seen some posts with swearing and anti-Royalty comments, and they seem to be okay with Facebook standards? Please let me know if anyone knows how to close a Facebook account. Mind you, I’ll lose my Troll Free access and Winwood Court too… Oh, I don’t know!
On the Blood Pressure, Sys was 147,
Not low or high enough to put me in heaven,
Dia 76, Pulse 81, Temp 34.1!

New medications on the collapsible table?
When? Who?… not rememberable…
Left in a bag unopened on the table.
When? Who?… not confirmable.
Pentac medicine’s effectiveness is disputable…
And Furosemide, another puzzle?
When? Who?… another bumfuzzle?
Dementia Doreen is blameable…

For my short-term memory not being retainable!

I should have used the glove or a towel,
To check on the oven-cooking gruel,
Peripheral Neuropathy makes you look like a fool.
When off-line, if things are hot or cool…
The nerve ends can’t tell the brain pool,
Neurotransmitter failures can seem cruel.

Some ailments will never be understood,
Peripheral Neuropathy, there’s not always blood,
Dying nerve ends are often misunderstood,
In fact, as above, they can be good…
The pain message is not precisely aborted,
This ailment needs to be excogitated!

No informing the brain of forthcoming pain or blood,
But belatedly gets the message through, it could…
Then you see the cut or bruise that bled…
Nowt the Doctors can do, it can’t be attempered,.
I imagine this will be why I’m found dead…
No need to fret, all the things wot I’ve been afflicted.

Twice I’ve been shot, and two cancers,
I’ve been given plenty of chances…
A metal ticker fitted, adiposes…
The stroke, Arthur Itis in both knees.
At 20 years of age came baldness,
Now cataracts, coming blindness.
Rotting teeth, deaf, body full of bruises,
Saccades, Glaucoma and diabetes,
Feet full of corns and calluses…
Mugged thrice, they weren’t pleasant,

Ankle and mouth ulcers,
Variable Blood Pressures and pulses,
Oh, and Pectic & Duodenal Ulcers,
Colin Cramps, fingers, toes agonise,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleed, a right mess,
And talk about absent-mindedness!
Now I’m full of abominableness…

So, life is now full of absurdnesses,
Paying for Carers and nurses…
Putting up with my pathetic curses…
But things could well be worse,
PN can, as I showed, have advantageousness,
My funeral cost has been covered!

But moments ago, from Jillie, she’s coming to see me!
This cheered my spirits automatically,
So, St Peter can wait patiently,
Cause I’m waiting to see Jill, besottedly!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I’ll get some nosh cooked before the Evening Carer calls.
Which I did, and took several photographicalisations while doing so, including the meal, a view from the kitchen window, and from the balcony. All 3 of the pictures have disappeared from the card?

I’m properly fed up!
The evening Carer arrived as I was getting the meal on the plate. The vegan burgers were well done when I got around to eating the meal
.
I’m properly fed up!

Evening All!

Inchcock Diary & Ode to Putin, Tuesday 7th June 2022

Tuesday 7th June 2022

07:30hrs: Woke wanting a wee-wee. I thought it would never come; it must have been 15hrs without one. It was hardly worth it, a painful sprinkle or two. At least the bladder is working again, so fingers crossed!

I set, too, giving myself a medical MOT. And taking ‘As needed’ non-prescription medications. There is no need for ointmentating this morning, No Little Inchies fungal lesion or Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding whatsoever! Excellent results on the blood pressure machine, best for ages!

The only thing not so good was the body temperature. That was way down low again. Been under the NHS’s recommended 35°c for a few days now. I don’t feel poorly; I am a lot chirpier in myself this morning. Although I felt so cold when it obviously isn’t?

I took some under-tongue CBS oil. And a Hemp capsule too.

Got the ears well saturated with the Olive oil. Let it sink in, and then I filled up the canals with more. This never seems to help, but I’ve got into the habit of doing it each morning now.

Then took a Dioctyl to help skid up the darned Porcelain Throne evacuations. Messy. Gooey, watery! Eurgh!

I got a few Warfarin tablets ready, so the carers will have some available for the evening doses.

Then, had a bash at syringing both ears. Not only a total waste of time; I failed to remove any wax at all, but I made such a mess I had

to clean up the water that had sprayed out off or missed the ears! Hehe!

Got the kettle on and sorted the laundry, not forgetting that talk-a-lot Esther would give me some hassle if it wasn’t ready and sorted when she arrived later this morning! Not that she scares me an anything like that, of course. Ahem!

I took this snap of the lovely morning sky with its ever-changing hues. Mother Nature, again shows us her beauty! The beauty we have been destroying for years.

Got the computer on and started on the WordPress reader and commenting, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chime brought forth Carer Richard. I thought the lad was late coming; he’s had extra calls on again and was in a rush because he had a four-hour training session later when he finishes work with the Diabetes team to get through. No time for any good natterings today again. I think he felt guilty about it, so I tried to cheer him up, wished him all the best, and gave him a bag of treats. Then, I walked (well, hobbled) with Richard to the lift lobby and wished him well for the meeting.

Took this photo of the car park in front of Woodthorpe Court from the kitchenette window. Made a brew of Glengettie tea and was about to return to the computer with the nug of tea – but circumstances changed…

As usual with Neuropathy Pete, his timing caused the optimum amount of pain and hassle. An involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance made me drop the cup as I grabbed Metal-Micky and the side of the sink to keep from going over. Once more, it was over in seconds, but I still managed to clout my knee on the edge of a floor cupboard. Which awakened Cartilage Cathy in agony! Humph!

Sorted myself out and took an extra Codeine. And fond this photo of a meal from which I can’t work out? It was not a good photo in any way, shape or form, so it might be one that I meant to delete from the file?

Started on the Snippets blog, and the Iceland delivery arrived. I let him in through the intercom box in the hallway, and I cleared a path to put the bags into.

The driver took the bags through to the kitchen for me. Gave him a choice of plonk cans in thanks. He opted, I noticed, for the Rum and coke. Hehe! Good for him; I hope it cheered him up a smidge.

They sent the Rustlers for Richard, sugar snap peas, mushrooms and some new Pork & Pickle Bites. Three for a fiver, so they must be good. One for Josie, one for Richard and one for Esther. I got some small apples that, hopefully, my lesser-teethed mouth can manage to eat. Har-har! They had no small vine tomatoes in stock but have sent me a pack of large tomatoes, Dutch, that had a sell-by date for today. No charge!

The best thing they had sent was the No-Moo ice creams and No-Bull burgers. The best of any burgers I have tried! The ice cream is by far superior in taste to what one might call natural ice cream. Grrreat Flavour both! I’d have ordered more, but I dared not with Iceland’s record of crap unrelated substitutions!

I had another go at getting the Snippet Ode done. (I did get it finished, but not until I’d been grafting on it, on & off, for another nine hours!) Esther arrived and came talkingly into the room. She still wasn’t near enough for me to hear her, and I feared that she may have something vital as she went into the hall, front, and living rooms.

It’s not so bad when she’s face to face and not shouting at me rather than talking to me. Esther, bless her, has a habit of talking and carrying on. Esther keeps talking to me from the rear of my ear lobes as she turns away… the peace and quiet are nice. But there is always danger in this… She has a great memory and thinks because she’s told me something, I must have heard it and will remember it. (Both are impossible in my condition, Haha!)

Then, a week later, I get an ear-bashing from about 4 inches distance and am informed that “I told you that last week!” telling offs. Luckily I can rest assured that Esther will nip off into the other room to have a nosey around my boxes and occasionally iron a shirt… but talking to me all the time from the other room… still, I knew what to expect. Hehe! Obviously, I had forgotten something or not heard it. I’m glad I got the pork & pickle thingamabobs for her now. Giving her then assuaged her aggression. I joke, of course… Erm? She’s an angel, really.

I got the ready meal into the oven and had roughly 40 minutes before it was cooked. I must not fall asleep!

Back to doing the blog, I trudged. ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and I wearily (Mentally) went to the door. It was Josie, returning the tray and things for me from the Sunday meal. Bless her cotton socks; she enthused over the taste of this Sunday’s chilli stew! That cheered me up a bit! She even asked if I used to be a chef? Oh dearie me! My EQ was nervous at this. Naturally, I had no idea why at the time. A feeling of foreboding matured…

I got on with the Snippet blogging again! So deep in concentration… still making errors after cock-ups, though. Then it dawned on me that the food was in the oven!!!

Grade A: It looked like this after I’d burnt my fingers getting the tray out of the oven post haste! Not good, is it? But I was so tired and weary that I still used it and made a meal of sorts out of it.

I added some BBQ sauce to the tray. Got some slices of Milk Roll bread, tomatoes and sugar snap peas onto the tray.

I was part mad at myself, well darned annoyed with myself, and so tired and drained, I didn’t get too agitated. Yet I still laughed at myself as I tried to dismantle the encrusted burnt meal to get at some edible bits of food. It helped in having some bread and sauce to soak some resuscitated bits to eat.

By the time I’d finished burnt food mining, which was tasty, believe it or not, bits of burnt food had been scattered far and wide on my stomach folds, down the pants, on the tray, and on the floor and recliner cushion. The carpet took on a new design; there were many black, ash-like bits of residue on it. I faced a long task in getting things sorted… and the kitchen and oven needed cleaning attention as well.

I was all in by the time I got things semi-put right. I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea and ate a huge bowl full of veggie ice cream! I finished it and lay there as I dropped off to sleep – it was so good that I think I dreamed of sleeping…

♫Oh, Susana♫ Chimed out, and Carer Valerie came in. I’d been up and about for around 12 hours by then, and waking up after five minutes of sleeping was not what I wanted… Hehehe! I remembered to give Valerie her Pork & Pickle whatsits, though.

I felt awful but could not resist the urge to finish the blog. The internet went down… now I was getting annoyed!

I pressed on and got the Snippets blog finished at long last. It stayed that way; it was now gone midnight! I realised then that I had not done the ablutions today!

Humph!

ODE TO PUTIN

Is it true that hopes and expectancies are always there?
Putin’s are conspicuous, World Domination, I fear…
He’s somewhat of a Worldwide parcel courier?
Soon, bigger, dirtier packages will be sent, and nuclear…
Where will the scumball strike next? Europe and Asia, it’s unclear…
Anywhere, somewhere, possibly a country that’s weaker?

Is it true that he wears a lemon and pink brassier?
Shags Igor Sechin, his First Deputy Prime Minister?
He laughs at citizens dead or gathered for warmth around a brazier,
The man could not be any more selfish and crazier!

I insult the shithead cause there’s nothing else I can do…
But I would, if I could, send him a can of poisoned Irish stew,
I wonder if he likes it from his minions in his rear?
He’d like to make his competition dead or disappear?
What competition? He’s got more weapons & forces than we do…
He’s more soldiers in Moscow’s Red Square!

We cannot afford to send troops there…
We’ve not got enough, nor has anyone else, to be fair…
I wish we could send him Tony Blair…
Notice he’s not volunteered to do any damage repair?
Putin offers and hopes only for death and despair…
To the rest of the world, we can only die or forebear…
Unless you bribe him if you’re a financier?
Then he just might take a fancy to yer?

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit