Yee-Haa! ā„
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Wednesday 16th December 2020
Croatian: Srijeda, 16 Prosinca 2020
00:15hrs: After a good solid 4 hours of heavenly bliss in the arms of Sweet Morpheus, I stirred with the need of a wee-wee, followed seconds later with an urge to utilise the Porcelain Throne.
Thus, the diurnal struggle began, to free my mastodonic, oversized, bouncing flabby-stomached torso from the Ā£300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, uncomfortable, sickenly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner. It was a good job that there was no urgency about the evacuations needed, cause it took me a while to get myself sorted out enough to actually get to the wet-room.
I got the central mass of flesh over the end of the chair, rear-end part-way over the cushion, and using the arms of the recliner as an aid, pushed my lumbering body up to get on my feet. Half-way up, and the right arm had a visit from Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failing, and the arm slipped off of the chair arm, knocked a bottle of spring water off of the ottoman, clouted the shoulder, and the body-mass clumped back onto the recliner! Argh!Ā
Making things even more severe for Harolds Haemorrhoids, who took the brunt, as I landed, missing the precious pain-saving cushion ring, making the pain somewhat worse!
But it didn’t bother me, I’m used to such things happening, I merely smiled to myself, laughed, and… Oh, alright!Ā I cringed, pulled faces, silently swore, and lay there (I considered crying) feeling the warm wet sensation coming from my beleaguered piles into the Protection Pants!
This caused a semi-panic mode, and I somehow or other got back up, carefully but as quickly as I dare, caught my balance, and ‘Oh, so painfully’ hobbled to the toilet. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do first, but the wee-wee won, as I sat down, I got the crossword book out. As the tinkling from the weak wee-weeing began, I had a look at the first crossword clue, that was as far as I got with it – the rear-end evacuation started and finished in about a minute!
I was flabbergasted! The DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle) this morning between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad, was a draw. The scene afterwards, looked like could have been from the ‘Hostel’ movie!
Medicated and sanitised the low rear end, and then medicated with the Germoloid ointment. Opened another pack of too small Tena’s I got from Amazon after Sainsbury’s had substituted the wrong sized too-small PPs. That didn’t work, did it! I’m a lucky bugger!
I had a good cleaning up of the bowl and got the old bloodied PPs packed away for the contaminated box. Had a final wash and wiped the contact points, and off to get the Health Checks done. I felt like I’d been up for hours!
Started with the Boot’s sphygmomanometerisationing: The sys was up again, to 168 this time. The pulse was also higher than usual, at 93, this may have something to do with the evacuational problemsĀ I’d just suffered, I expect.
The Harpin Xian Di thermometer read as 36.3Ā°c.
Then I got the medications taken for last night – Yes, I foolishly missed them again! Spurgledamnations! Must remember to take the morning ones later.
I got on with updating the Tuesday blog. Hours later, I’d got it finished and posted it off.
Sent the Email link off. Pinterested a couple of photographs, and launched into what turned out to be a two-hour session of Facebooking! Then went on the WordPress Reader.
Aha, time to do a search of the skies to see if I can see Venus and or the moon. Well, you can’t really see it, I didn’t, but one of them on closer examination of the picture, was there, just! Sqwiggle up close to the photo, screw your eyes up, go about three inches from the screen, and you might see it (Venus?) in the box I drew. I hope!
I made the first brew of the day around 06:30hrs, then took the morning medications, and I did some more updating.
I got the ablutions sorted out. Not a good session, but hardly worth mentioning really. (I lost the page of notes wot I wrote about this, and a day later, it’s all a blank memory-wise!) Chungleblast! However, photos found triggered the memory of the Sock-Glide Battle! I lost 3-0!
Each sock, in turn, gave me exactly the same problems. The uncut nails got trapped in the mesh of the diabetic socks, causing a few tears in the material!
Both big toes, I found out later, couldn’t see them at the time, had the nails so distorted, they bled!
I’ve got new bruises on the fingers.
Arthur Itis and Cartilage Cathy kicked off with the straining, pulling and pushing!
I also found out when putting on one of the new Amazon supplied PPs (Protection Pants), that this pack had considerably smaller sizes in it!
It wasn’t right. I decided to see if I could get an appointment with the Cost-a-Fortune woman who does feet one half-day a week at the Winwood Court. I’ll call in to ask Deana about it.
I got the hand-washing done, wrung and hung. Only did a woolly hat and the pair of yesterdays socks.
I decided in an instant, I would go to town today. (In the morning, I made a blog about this trip to town) chiro
Inchcocks 6th Great Escape from Lockdown
As soon as the Porcelain Session was dealt with, which went tremendously well. Well, a lot of bleeding, but still. I go myself sorted-out ready, in a fashion, and set off on my escape.
Getting out of the door should have told me something, like perhaps, Stay in, this bodes not well! I gave my left for a right stinging crack on the trolley guide wheels. The toenails gave me agony!
I got down to the ground floor and through the attractive, highly decorative, homely lift lobby. Hehehe! Can’t be helped, the decorators are in.
I left through the fronts doors (which seemed a sensible option, Haha!, 
I am a fool!) I limped along to the recycle bin and put the jars and bottles in it. Then hirpled along to Winwood Court and spoke with Wardens Deana and Julie, asking about the Chiropodist situation. Told me to ask at the hairdressing salon. So, I did! I
I visited the Windwood Extra Care Court’s hairdressing salon. A lady came to me and asked what I was after, and I told her. I was wondering if I could get the foot-lady to cut my toenails? The lady kindly gave me a card when I said I might forget Hehe! Apparently, the Chiropodist only calls for one-
afternoon a week, on a Friday. She starts at 13:00hrs. Which is understandable, because she charges too much and doesn’t get too many customers. But Covid-19 has been kind to her.
I thanked the woman, said cheerio to Deana and Julie was I passed their holding and interrogation cell and departed outside.
I took the opportunity to take some photographs of Winwood Court. First a view of Winchester Court from outside the Winwood Extra Care Court.
I then hand a limp around the back of Winchester Court, to take a photo showing part of the Woodthorpe Grange Park greenery.
It was quiet out there, apart from the blustery wind. And I had a mini-thought storm. I pondered on the first time I visited the flats, with a view to my moving in, and my first gut reactions. ‘No way, its desolate, depressing and so out of the way!’ I decided against moving. But when I heard later that there was a bus service, I revisited. Glad I did now! Funny how things change. So many things have happened since healthwise. Getting peripheral neuropathy, having the stroke, diabetes, and then Molluscum Contagiosum, and Atopic dermatitis… I’m so pleased to be here.
The upgrading that started in 2017 will shortly be finished, I hope. And the toes were not hurting so much now. This would soon change into a persistent pain syndrome, the more I walked! Ah, well, serves me right!
I turned to go back to the frontage of the complex. I knew without looking at my watch, that it wasn’t time for the bus yet, not enough tenants waiting at the bus stop.
I got to the shelter and waited, and the first bus, an L9 arrived. Thus started my trip to town and escape from the lockdown! All covered in the blog link above.
I got off of the number 40 bus that brought me home from the tiring, exhausting, Accifauxpa and embarrassment riddled little visit to the town of Nottingham. I got the three-wheeled walker guide, with the three shopping bags of stuff hanging onto it, off of the bus with no mishaps. Took this picture as I made my way to by beloved Woodthorpe Court at the end of Chestnut Walk, it seemed such a long way, so worn to was I. (Poor thing! Hahaha!)
I put the shopping away and got the much-needed nosh sorted. A feast of sorts this one, and contained, Crispy bacon, mini pork pie, ready-mase BLT sarnie, pickled cabbage and egg, beetroot, a Marmite cheese disc, and the last of the potato letters. I suppose it was I felt so drained and was feeling ravenous after the hobbling about, that I gave this an 8.5/10 for flavour! Even though I couldn’t eat it all up.
I got the pots in the bowl soaking, and was soon down in the recliner, in need of Sweet Morpheus more than usual. He obliged! ZZZ!
00:15hrs: I rose resiliently resisting Roger Reflux’s rumblings, and regained my balance, and rambled to the bucket for a wee-wee. Another weak, restricted affair. 
. Then got the Harpin Xian Di Thermometer, and took my temperature, as you do with thermometers, I’ve noticed this. The reading was a fine 36.7Ā°c and in the green. 
As I was putting down the machine after picturing it, as Nicolas’s Neurotransmitters lost touch with the brain, and I nearly dropped 
Off to the kitchen and got the kettle on, and made a Glengettie Gold brew this time. 
Terence to take over at the Porcelain Throne session. Did you see that?
Messages came up from the ‘Cloud’, which baffled me a bit, I usually would have ignored them and hoped it wasn’t anything important. But not today, in my high spirits… 
A shame, though, cause I seem to have made a right mess of things. The MS Picture thingy keeps not working now. I’ve got everything changed to working in Inches as well. And the reader drive has stopped working altogether. Was I bothered? Nope! (Later on, it got to me, mind!)
Drying off, that went well, no dropsies or knocking owt over. Anf the stubbed toe looked much improved, despite the second stubbing. It had changed to the traditional blue colouring, I noticed, from the odd brown when it first happened yesterday, Hey-Ho! 
I was still in a better than average mood, though, maybe not for long. Hehe!
Then an even bigger cock-up! I’d burnt the chilli and peas at the bottom of the pan. 
The slightly overcooked bread and the burnt Chill-Con-Carne turned out to be one of the tastiest I’ve ever made! I gave this one a flavour rating of 8.5/10! The oven-baked baguette and rolls came out spot-on! The gravy added, and amount of mild chilli powder worked a treat too! At last, a successful, Chilli nosh fitting for my tastes was made! (Although trying to repeat it, will need finely-tuned burning, singing and overcooking that may be challenging to get right again. Haha!)
I resettled in the recliner and readied myself to enjoy a Devils Kitchen episode. No, I take that back, it was a Ramsay one, Kitchen Nightmare, not that it mattered what it was called, for at the first batch of adverts, sweet Morpheous arrived, and I had peace and bliss for four solid, uninterrupted hours! Heavenly!
00:30hrs: I woke with a start again, and lay trying not to hear the ‘Hum’ outside, or to the new droning sound inside, we think is coming from the machinery on the rooftop in the plant-room. (That’s because it keeps stopping for five minutes or so, then kicks back in)Ā A most annoying noise to wake up to today, two flaming humming-like susurrations, outside and inside at the same time! Globbleaurgh! 
I bounded out of the luxury Snuggle-Up, Ā£950, brand new, recliner, and nipped smartly to the Ā£95 overnight-elderly-persons Marks & Spencer’s Chamber Pot, for a wee-wee… 
Oh, alright, then… I struggled out of the grotty, Ā£300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, sickenly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, cracked my right knee on the ottoman, felt back down in the chair and Harold’s Haemorrhoids – swore silently, gritted my teeth and got back up again. Hobbled to the OEGPB (Overnight, emergency, grey, plastic, bucket), and had a wee-wee of the PSST (Persistent, Stinging, Sharp) mode.
Seeing the medications that arrived last night, I had a nosey at them.
medications sent earlier without any seals on them. I will ring Obergruppenfurheress and catwalk model, Warden Deana later, to ask her to ring the chemist for me, so I know what to do. I can’t believe that they want the tablets that shot out all over two room back? Then again, Matron did tell me to return them to the pharmacist? I think! 
Then I realised that instead of the DioctylĀ® poo-softener capsules I’d asked for, they had delivered Docusate Sodium, in a medicine form. Excellent thinking that was from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 
Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub, near the Lidl store, and my Doctor for prescribing medicine. That needs me, to pour out into short plastic three 5ml spoons of the medicine, three times a day! A shame they both forgot about my, Nicolas’s neurotransmitters dying, the Peripheral Neuropathy, and Peripheral Pete’s right leg dances! This is not going to work, I’ll have more medicine on the floor, my clothes, and if the involuntary Schuplatter dancing starts while I’m trying to take the medication (six times a day) the bottle is going to get dropped and smashed for sure! I can avoid any problems for a while, cause I still have some of the capsules in the pot to use for a couple or three days – then things should 
get interesting? Dangerous, mind!Ā 
Omnibus Horis Sapit!
The temperature was spot on! 
slowly cleared away. 
The drying was had no, I say, No, knock-overs! (A smile developing!) As for the medicationalisationing, only poor Harolds Haemorrhoids ointmentating actually hurt. Although the ankle looked a bit battered? But I had given it a good knock when showering, so, fair do’s. It seemed to have changed colour, and the scratch marks too? No pain or soreness, mind you? All so confusing!
Back to the updating of this blog. 
Got the meal cooking things ready to start, and checked the leaflet from Nottingham City Homes. A little confusing.
The landline flashed, it was Hristina, the lovely vampire nurse, to tell me she will be calling on Monday twixt 8>10:00hrs, bless her cotton socks. I think they’ve made it earlier this week, with the INR level being so low?
Being so tired, I couldn’t appreciate the meal as I might have, but I still gave it a 7/10 for flavour and taste. The bacon was the Iceland brand ‘Seasonally Seasoned’ streaky bacon. It was almost paper-thin but tasty enough for once. The beans and vegetarian sausages were not bad. The Sainsburys pork & pickle pies were fine, not as tasty as the Iceland ones. The milk roll loaf bread and the lemon yoghourt were gorgeous! 
01:35hrs: I stirred into life after a rather unsatisfactory two-and-a-half hours sleep. And the first thing I became aware of was that the worldwide ‘Hum’ was a little quieter this morning. 
Ā The next thing gleaned was the need for a wee-wee. So the morning performance of getting my obesely, stupendously wobbly stomach burdened body, out of the Ā£300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, which went fair enough. Catching my balance was a piece of cake, too. Grabbing metal-mickey and over to the OEGPB (Overnight, emergency, grey, plastic, bucket), another task that went well! 
However, wee-weeing was a difficult task. After a long, long while, the flow started with the odd weakly-sprayed trickle and stayed that way until the bladder had had enough. Unbelievably, the Post Micturition Dribbling, carried on almost as long as the wee-weeing had? Ah, well, a change is as good as a rest!Ā Well, maybe not in this case. 
I tried to get my head around which of the medications I’d gotten wrong, easy-enough with the three same shaped and coloured one’s I take in the mornings. It’s not surprising that errors have been made, just look at the three aforementioned tablets! Plus there are still some missing from the spillage and scattering of the medications. I am not wee-weeing much today, and it’s reluctant, this indicates that maybe the Furesomide has been missed? The high blood pressure shows I may have missed a Beta blocker, (Bisoprolol)? Nope, I had to give up, it just got Conrad Confusion in a bigger mess than he was to start with!
I got the Harpin Xian Di Thermometer used. At least the temperature, was okey-dokey. 
I then took three photographs of the same area, the first one was in Auto Mode on the Nikon Coolpix B700 Bridge Camera.Ā (A bit of bragging there, sorry, but it does sound as if I know what I’m doing. Hehehehe! 
I got on with updating the Monday blog. With the unreadable scrawl on the notepad, through the late additions after I’d got my head-down, the photos and the attention pf Conrad Confusion, it took me far too long, but I managed to get it done without too many mistakes being made. Ahem!
The stand-up ablutions went fairly well. About 15 dropsies in total. Only two shaving nicks. 
So not so bad really. 
I got the dinner prepping done, to the accompaniment of Herberts, clunking and tap-tapping. 
rivation and getting annoyed with myself. Pissed-off a bit, as well!
On my usual, well, it used to be normal head-down time, the door chimes sounded, and Matron Julie entered the flat. A lovely feeling came over me!
the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub, launderette, near the Lidl store. She moved away to talk to whoever answered the phone in private, not that I could hear her anyway. 
A few spoonfuls after starting, I was getting up to throw away the meal. I packed it the disposal bags, but them in a carrier bag, and those into a black rubbish bag and sealed them up. So they would not cause a pong in the flats Or worse, they might have split open, effect and infect residents, and started a new Pandemic, the Woodthorpe-Court-Virus! Hehehe! 
01:15hrs: I stirred, shuffled, and a blasting emission from the read end that set Harolds Haemorrhoids stinging convinced me to escape out of the Ā£300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner. I caught my balance and limped to the wet room and the awaiting the Porcelain Throne. 
But regrettably, things didn’t go well at all in there this morning! I was in plenty of time and seated my rhinoceros but wobbly -shaped body down, and in anticipation of a long session, like yesterday’s, I grabbed the crossword book, like yesterday.Ā I wasn’t disappointed!
Trotsky Terence was again thrashed by Constipation Konrad in the PTDDS (Porcelain Throne Daily Domination Stakes). The pain grew worse as things kept starting and stopping mid-stream several times. When the evacuation finally and blissfully stopped, there lied a rock-solid light grey torpedo, steaming and proudly ticking-up out of the water, fin end up! Gawd, what a relief! How in hell, that monster was cleared with one flush, I’ll never know? 
not to mention the errors, bad choices, and… I’d better stop, there are too many woebegone, voodooed, hapless, Jonah-like and ill-fated things to mention. Haha!) 
And the body temperature was once again very fair indeed! 
I took a moody shot of the view from the unwanted, disliked, impossible to get cleaned, kitchen windows. I tried to get the Christmas light in it, and the street lights that gave me the impression, that I’d soon see the Three-Wise-Men coming into view. Hahaha!
Unbelievable!
They sent to packs of pods, without any seals of them! When I opened the first one, without my realising, (they are always transparent)
The pills and capsule bounded, shot and flew out all over the place! Some ending up on the floor, I found others on the recliner, others on the floor! Two in the hallway, two in waste bin! I ended up painfully bending on my knees to gather up as many as I could, but there were and still are five absentees that escaped and hid somewhere they are not to be found! 
sorting the tablets out to get back in the pods!Ā I had to end up guessing which was which, and some of the escapees were never found. The photo here is one of each of the three medications, you can see how hard it is to identify them. Glunglegnatsworthy! 
A second-summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. With a sort of panicky-dread, I got the wetroom and found that exactly (almost) the same type of evacuation was suffered, as the first one! But the whole thing was over so much quicker this time. 
I decided to get some belated breakfast. I pot noodle with added gravy, and the last three slices of bread thins. Nae matter, I’ve got some part-baked baguettes to use. I must get a food order done later on. 
2DA), this happens, and I bounce down to depression Defcon Three! Hahaha! One thing though, as I anticipated, mt leaving the scourer on the floor overnight, has made it look worse than ever now. Tsk! Always summat int there?
in BBQ sauce, and my world-famous cheesy potatoes… well, Josie, Jane and Pete like them?
myself. Hehehe! 
Took the photo of the end car park at the side of the flats. Oddly, all the vehicles in view were either red or black. The Mafia, and the FBI, came to mind? 
The scrawl on the paper was hard to decipher. Bits I could make out were, ‘dreams put in the blog’ and ‘wee-weeing…’ But unfortunately memories of having the dreams I’d apparently had were lost into the ether. They must have been interesting, or I would not have made the regrettably unreadable comments on the pad. Shame!
I went through the routine of getting up, catching the balance easily enough this morning. Noticing that the ankle ulcer was clearing up so quickly (Not complaining). The papule underneath the left foot was still tender, even though it had grown back on the bottom of the foot. 
I tended to the Health Checks first. 
get it to work today, and worked on the third effort: The SYS was still a little too high, but it’s been worse many a time. 
Then I opened the letter. It was an eight paged A4 notification, from HMG (Her Majesties Government), Department of Health & Social Care. It consisted of the following: Guidance for the festive period – Shielding – Access to health & care – Important Information about Covid-19 – Access to Additional Support – Vitamin D supplements – Socialising -Care & Support – Tier 1, 2, and three rules to follow – Going to the shops and Pharmacy regulations. Whether or not I will live long enough to read and digest it all, is questionable.
But, Hatt Mancock’s… sorry, Matt Hancock’s end quote of “We will Continue To Support You in your efforts to keep yourself & others safe!” gave me a warm-glow of bile, that did. 
I assume he may be talking about my not getting my prescriptions without a battle on the phone each month with the Chemist I must not visit, to get them delivered? Or being unable to get my toe-nails cut? Or the cancelled Oncologist – Cardiothoracic – Endocrinologist – Pulmonologist – Neurologist – Urologist and Audiologist cancellations? 
Or maybe as is likely, he’s more working towards the next general election than actually bothered about us all. He feels a bit of creeping and ersatz care pretending now, belatedly shown will ensure the votes? Who knows? You can’t blame him! Hahaha!Ā 
I took regular breaks over the.. wait for it… seven-hours I spent, getting the templates finished! The first being for some brekkers, of sorts. I had a pot noodle, and some nuts to nibble.
Turned everything off computer-wise, to let it cool down, and got the ablutions done
The session went safely enough, dropsies of course, and just the one nick shaving. 
I got the unopened old but ere new when I bought them, trousers on. They were classed as brown, but only just. Hehe!Ā 
snuggly. Other than that, they were fine. Oh, and the back pocket had a hole in it!
Back to the templating. I got the computer going again, and got a message telling me that the hard drive is running low in space. I’ve no idea where the message came from, Microsoft, Google or the computer. After a few moments of frowning and fretting – the message disappeared? 
I took a breather, of sorts when it started to be a grind, rather than pleasure, in doing the CorelDrawing. 
I got the bags down, in the process gaining a pretty deep blue bruise on the knuckles as I trapped the hand as the lid shot back closed.
Back to the templating again. I worked through uninterrupted for a few more hours. Got the templates finally finished and began thinking of what to have for my nosh. As I nosied around to see what was available, favouring doing the meatballs and potato shapes, to help clear the freezer, then I can free Jenny’s space up and fetch the meatballs she has kindly stored in her freezer for me. 
The sky was changing as I farted-about making a right mess in preparing 
the cooking. Nicolas’ Neurotransmitter had been so kind all day. Still, it now was causing some dangerous situation with the oven and saucepan, like. 
I got the fodder l plated, and was amazed at the fact that I’d just made this meal! I was so, out-of-it, and drained? I must have engaged auto-pilotāa taste-rating of 7/10. 
00:25hrs: I stirred back into imitation life, and the ailments already having a bash at me, the moment I moved any connected limbs, were; SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Haemorrhoid Harold, and Duodenal Donald, with a few mild interruptions by wandering all over the front torso, Anne Gyna. But this is not unusual.
caught my balance, and meandered into the kitchen. No desire for a mug of tea (now I was getting a smidge confused and a semblance of weariness developed). Oh, dearie me! My bestirring semi-contented feeling was diminishing already.
thout the exercising first! And not a single Dizzy Dennis visit yet! Conrad Confusion was being tested, here! As was what semblance of sanity I have!
The task of getting the photographs prepped took me less than an hour. Never been known to be so fast in years! 
I changed into one of the older Morrison bought white PPs (that fitted). Memories of pre-Coronavirus days flowed. The time before Morrisons and Sainsbury’s started sending the most farcical substitutes, you know, like AA batteries in place of a can opener, Medium Protection Pants instead of XL, and McCains foul-tasting black pepper fries in place of Sweet potato battered fritters!
A demoralised Inchcock, with a very sore bottom, returned to his computer. Back in his regular, normal, nervous, twitchy, haphazard, grumpy, fed-up, wee’d-off, desultory, and laissez-faire, defeatist, frame-of-mind. Feeling so sorry for himself, too!Ā 
I decided to make a brew of Glengettie. (it will not help, but it’ll be tasty!) And poddled off to the kitchen to get the kettle on. The sky was getting a smidge lighter, so I got the Nikon and took a couple of photos. 
it came up empty? What? Had I done something wrong, or what? Had it been hacked? It had some important numbers and passwords in it? Oh, dearie me, I’m feeling even worse now! Really fed-up! Granglespithowlations!
no knocks, dizzies, toe-stubbing or loss of balance. Smooth! The medicationing had its moments, but nowt excessive. The legs and feet looked good to me. The wee-wees had dried up as well. The skin is as normal, looking a smidge deathly pale again.
I did find a photo on the SD card later, that was a mystery to me. 
Yes, that’s the one.
I hand-washed the blue zip-up jerkin. All done, wrung and hung above the sink to eventually drip dry, I hope.
I then spotted two burglar alarm activating in the rain-sodden Cavendish Vale. I tried a few times to get a photo that showed the alarm lights, but I failed in my efforts.
Then I made up two more small waste bags and put them in the box on the three-wheeled walker. And I added a biggish couple of bag with recyclables materials in them, to it on the handlebars.
No one was using the elevators at that moment, so I was soon down on the ground floor. Got the little Cannon camera out and took this photo of the ground floor lobby.
awaiting collection. I took the photo of the electronic notice board on the way to the lobby.
I returned to Woodthorpe Court flats, took another picture of the being updated hallways and lobby, and got up in the lift to the 12th-floor. 
I got opened a can of Chilli-Con-Carne into a saucepan, added some made-up vegetable gravy, and a drop of Hickory, and sliced some tomatoes to go in the mix, with just a sprinkle ofĀ Balsamic vinegar. Got the oven warming to do some chips in. 
The eyes were drooping, the back hurting. As often happens, I was feeling smidge rough around the edges. I quickly got the latest local Coronavirus figures.
01:30hrs: I stirred, and was amazed to find I had slept for over five uninterrupted hours – and this after the night before’s mammoth sleep-in? I seem to have changed suddenly from an insomniac to a n
I was a smidge disappointed in myself when I saw the untaken evening pot of medications still on the Ottoman, though. I mused for a few seconds, on why I am suddenly missing so many night tablets so often? But got no reply from the brain, which decided that a mug of Glengettie tea was more important.
The sphygmomanometer needed a couple of tries to get it to work. The first effort indicated I’d snuffed it. Hahaha! But at least try two showed the SYS was down a tad, to 160. 
Then, as I turned, I hit my head on the corner of the door. Not badly, I’ve had many worse ones, but it seemed to spark a change in my everyday routine? 
half sting when I put the foot down. 
Then I got the hand-washing finished off, the green quilt I’d left to soak in the sink bowl. I rang it out as best I could, and got it on the stand-up clothes airer in the hallway, being careful not to hang over the electricals at the bottom. Not everyone can say that, Hehehe! 
Back into the Steptoe & Son-like front room, and got the computer back on. 
He arrived, just as I had a dizzy at the front door, he showed concern and unloaded the good into the box and two bags (As orders go, this was a biggun!) Then he carried them through to the kitchen for me. I thanked him, then got the paperwork out, to see what was what, substitution wise.
Well, there were a few concerns. The PP’s (Protection-Pants), had been 
substituted with smaller-size ones!
Now, I know that Sainsbury’s say you can return any substituted items not suitable. But would they appreciate my asking the driver to wait, while I go in the wet room, to try on a pair of pants – find they are too small, then put them back in the pack, sellotape it up, and hand them back to the driver for returning? I think not! 
Not that these idiotish, inane, illogical, crass, unreasoned, banal, piss-taking substitutions bother me too much, of course! Knackwrangles! 
I set about sorting the food etc. and trying to find some room, I’d rather overdone it again. Not on the fresh stuff, mind. I’ve been caught out with short dates and bonkers substitutes that often this year, from JS and Morrisons.
I got the waste bags sorted onto the box on the trolley to go to the waste chute.
control. Bless her! 
So I went on Amazon for a look-see what they had. I found these Tena ones, at Ā£1 a disposable pair. I ordered some on Special Price, it said they were a new make. I just hope I’ve not ordered the wrong things again. They are at least a large size. 
I delivered the meal eight minutes earlier than usual to Josie’s door, and there was no answer. Just as well, cause I’d forgot to take a photo of her Sunday feast. I nipped back in and took this shot and returned to her door and rang the bells again. I was greeted with; “You are early!” Hehehe! She laughed and inspected the fodder. It seemed to pass muster, she said she liked the fish Surami sticks, and the can of Rum and whatever went down well. 
I got the nosh prepared, not sure how I didn’t fall asleep doing it, though. 
I tucked in, then fell asleep after eating the meal. Woke a few minutes later thinking it was time to get up, I edged my Billy Bunter body and saw the pot of yoghurt laying unbroken, where it had rolled to, on the carpet. A dilemma now; Do I struggle to get up and retrieve the lemon curd yoghourt? Is it worth the monumental effort? Am I that keen on eating it? Yes, I was… wasn’t I? 
04:45hrs: I stirred and reluctantly opened my eyes, closed them, and nodded off again. Uninterested in life, or stirring from the warmth of the c1968 recliner.
I deposited my stomached ladened, with the thin, scrawny legs and arms attached, on the raised toilet seat, and got the crossword book out… 
messy affair, but the input from Trotsky, amazingly ensured that the system coped with clearing the product away, and it was a big un, with just the one flush! All neat and clean! 
Then, a few seconds after taking this photo, ‘thinks began to come back up into the bowl! Blungletads!
I started with the sphygmomanometer, which gave a decentish SYS of 160. Or is it? My memory fails me. I wrote down the expected BP for someone of my age, twice in fact… But can’t where I wrote it down.Ā Brunglebogs! 
The temperature came out good again as well, at 36.4Ā°c. 
This was because it was so light. (I’m quick yer know, Haha!) A bit of mist and drizzle, wet roads and roofs. I remembered the smoke f
I got a few more waste bags made up and put them in the box ready for taking to the rubbish chute later on. 
It was so late a start, I was worried that my legion of fans and readers would be concerned and missing their IT (Inchcock Today). I hope both of them will be patient with me. Hehehe! 
Not that it bothered me in the slightest.
I opened the ‘Your Area’ email magazine, to search for the latest Coronavirus figures available. Nottingham appeared to be slacking off at last, with only 653 new cases in the last seven-days, which sounds odd I know. But it was so much higher a fortnight ago. The Government’s England graphs were somewhat mixed in results.
I made up a nosh, without burning or dropping anything (Smug-Mode-Adopted). 
With perms in the ladies hair, or wigs?
23:45hrs: I woke up just before midnight, still in pain from BPB & AG (Back-Pain-Brenda and Anne Gyna). And Harold’s Haemorrhoids soon joined in trenchantly, the moment I moved my stomach-dominated body.
I first felt, then spotted and removed the TV remote control, empty packet of Frazzles, pencil, and crumbs from the oleaginous folds of my belly fat. Well, it made a change, Hehe! 
By the time I’d fought my way out of the Ā£300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly, sickeningly beige-coloured, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety, rachitic, recliner, and gingerly standing up, Haemorrhoid Harold had taken over the position asĀ LPAG (Lead-Pain-Ailment-Giver), the Germoloid ointment will be needed soon! Tsk!
A wee-wee was taken in the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). 
months. Excellent! 
The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, a little later than usual. Off to the wet room, down on the seat, and waited for the action to start, which it didn’t! 
Doing this, I got messages first from Norton. I needed attention: back-up, Vin and Security issues. I clicked on the amend buttons, and things seem alright now, I’ve got the green light on again? 
I came to the front room (I haven’t got a back one, Hehe!), and thought I’d have a few nuts to nibble. Could I find them? No! Well, not least not for ages spent searching and looking in the most stupid places for the pot. I found cunningly hiding in plain view, in front of the TV. Harrumph! 
They’ve done it again. There were many missing and substituted items again. With my arithmophobia and dyscalculia, I can’t tell if I’ve been overcharged or not. But the total has been lowered, then again, I bought a lot of stuff on offer? Every order they do this to me. I’m cheesed of with them.
I went out on the balcony and took a photo of the sky towards the West, showing balconies of some the flats. Seconds later, the red bits in the clouds were masked, and it went dark, I felt certain that it was going to rain, but it hasn’t yet. I just thought you’d like to know, like.
I did a few more small trash bags up, and put them with the others in the big box, waiting to go to the rubbish chute. Then I was about to nip out to the lift lobby but stopped myself when I realised that the Morrison delivery driver may press the intercom at any time. Not that they have ever come on time, not for the last three deliveries anyway. With my luck, if I had gone out, they would have come at that time. Of course, they didn’t arrive again until after the given hour with the slot. So, I still don’t know if the workers have blocked the exit or not yet. This might prove a problem when the goods do arrive. Assuming they will get here eventually. 
Found the latest Coronavirus figures for Nottingham.
There I was, waiting patiently, and keeping up a semi-spirited outlook on things, despite Morrisons best efforts to get me all hot and bothered with their stupid substitutions on the way. 
And my Ā£889, Nokia 8.3 5G, with 171.9 x 78.56 x 8.99mm, 220g Side fingerprint scanner, and Google Assistant button, Punch hole camera, LCD 21:9, 60Hz, and 6.81-inch display, rang. Chortle! Giggle! 
Flibblegonkackles Glibblebonks! Globdanglesods! Spurgledamnations! and Hogglebogwash! 
flashing lights in heliotrope and silver, and an arrow with Morrison in it, on the rooftops of each Court? Fernacklcumps! 
The unwanted and overpaid for substituted foodstuffs, I thought Jenny’s friends who she helps could use. So I put the other stuff away, and made a carrier with the strawberry trifles, Curry flavoured pot noodles, a can of Posh Perry for Nora some other bits in it, and called to explain why I was coming down to ring on her bell. We had a good chinwag, which is always nice.
I got the box full of bags taken with me and visited the waste-chute on the way. Then down in an elevator to Jenny’s level, and put the bag outside her door, rang her bell, and had a problem turning the trolley around, and bashed my ankle-ulcer on the wheel arch, that steadied me up a bit! Jenny appeared at the door, had a look at the goods and declared they could all be made us of for someone worse off than us. That’s Jenny! ā„ 
hot for my liking, should have left off adding the chilli powder, methinks. 
I put the waste from the cooking, into a little bag, and started to fill the box again.
BPB giving me permanent, persistent pain, of course.
gravy. A first-class, nonpareil, supreme loaf and depositor of crumbs on the recliner, carpet, and in my stomach folds!