Carer Richard, Odes & Diary

CARER RICHARD

He goes the extra mile to care for me!

ODES

Richard goes the extra mile in looking after me, you see…

He’s called paramedics to the hospital he dispatched me.

Found me on the floor, lifted me up; and I’m heavy!

He’s reduced the effects of my Whoopsiedangleploppery!

After giving me my medications, if he’s the time, to which I agree…

We sometimes have a bit of mental verbal buffoonery,

Monday, checking the dates on medications, was he…

Richard saw on the stove my pan of Chilli,

He suggested a new way of cooking, which sounded good to me!

Told me with cheese on top, it would be very tasty,

So, I made some that way later and could not disagree,

It tasted better than a well-cooked sosatie.

Ate it, felt sated, down the chair – I’ve not got a settee…

But with my feet up, I settled to watch the footy on ITV…

Half-time, I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea…

Getting the cup and washing up the cutlery…

Oh, dear, the innards suddenly rumbled – but only weakly…

The rear end just started to emit things terribly…

I rushed to the Porcelain Throne in a hurry… but I was too late!

Banged my shoulder on the door frame going in, mate!

What a mess; I was in a right mucky state…

Cleaned things and me up, new aerated PP’s on, to alleviate…

Sad when one has an uncontrollable trip to defecate…

At least the shoulder I didn’t dislocate!

Out and back to the kitchenette for the brew,

And immediately another churning, another release was due!

Back to the Porcelain Throne, I almost flew!

A bigger mess this time, sticky goo!

Good job, I made it in time, I can tell you!

Cleaned and washed, and back on the flaming loo!

After five more Throne visits, each one causing ballyhoo…

Things settled at last; in future, Chilli, I’ll have to eschew!

I’ll have some home-made beef stew,

Oh, no beef, summat else will do…

Ah, the Vegan beefburger tonight; the risks should be few

Hoping there’ll be no trouble with the residue!

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All fine that night, I woke up feeling refreshed and pert,

This morning as I stood up, the Haemorrhoids hurt,

The borborygmus rumbled, and to the Porcelain Throne I stumbled,

An hour later, I’d passed at least six times… my spirits crumbled…

Each evacuation was a close call, as I rushed and fumbled…

My poor piles were stinging and battered; they itched!

Uh-oh! The last one sneaked out early; I had to ventilate…

It seemed the pong was worse by a hundredfold,

Finally, I got the escapees under control…

That leaves Carer Richard this morning, who needs to be told…

A warning of his recipe given, especially to the thick & old…

That eating it, diarrhorea would be empowered!

Richard arrived, I told him of my Chilli agony, and he was unflustered!

Laughter flowed from the lad, totally unhindered…

No guilt, no shame… Never seen the lad so cheery…

He suggested I get a new nappy!

Hahaha!

Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series

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I’ve never ever seen Richard laugh out loud and so hard! I think his mood was as near to schadenfreude as one can get. Even amid my agonies and Trotsky Terence’s having a hay-day with my innards and the Protection Pant stocks running desperately low…, it cheered me up to have made him so happy and contented. It did as much good as any medications.

With a possible hint of epicaricacy creeping in there… Hahaha!

Last evening’s photographicalisations were, to me, some of the best I’ve managed to take. How the shaking and shuddering (apart from the right shoulder Shuddering Shoulder Shirley) had suddenly dried up was something of a minor miracle? However, as I was closing the windows after taking the pictures, they kicked off again, off course. But a nice two first-time shots? Ah, the rumbling innards have started off again, out of the blue. I made a speedy as I could lunge for the wet room, wary of Trotsky Terence’s grip on the innards. The evacuation was the smallest in days and more than capable of controlling. I remained sat where I was on the Throne and got the crossword book out. I was not going to get caught out like I have been so many times recently by needing another release minutes later. About five minutes later, the second lot came.
I had a shave and shower, and the ankle ulcer in this photo looked like a luminescent inner core? At least it did to my cataracted eyes. But it looked to the eyes as usual? If I remember, I’ll ask the evening carer to have a look. (I forgot to, Tsk!) . The body temperature was acceptable again. That’s several days on the trot, so things look good there. Shaking Shaun caused me to drop the thermometer, but it still works; phew! The Sys was still highish, the DIA lowish, and the Pulse was AOK! Overall, I was tempted to go into Smug-Mode, but I remembered last week… I declined! That was when the SYS went up to 174 for one day, then down to 123?

I had a look at the food situation in the fridge. There seemed plenty to do me over the weekend, and the freezer was pretty full, so I decided no food order was needed until next week! Yes! I made a decision…me! I made one in 1968 as well, you know. Then made another one! I had a long chinwag with the family. Gave each one a mini cuddle and had a few words with each of them. ♥ All donated by e-friends, Lisa, Pattie and Marie; thank and bless them!

I had a walk down to the ground floor, using the lift, of course. And started to have a hobble the length of the three blocks of flats, to come out from Winchester Court and hobble along Chestnut Way back to my beloved Woodthorpe Court… but… An urgent need suddenly needed! So I doubled back and got to the Throne in time to avoid any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleploppery! Which was good!

Washed and got a snap of the end car park taken from the balcony. What happened with this terrible photo? I took it without thinking through the glass; I didn’t open the window. Wot a pillock! So I did a better shot from the other end of the balcony, of the view towards Nottingham City Centre, two miles away. Then got a late nosh sorted out. Veg & pickle balls, with added caramelised onion chutney, tomatoes, chips and my beloved raw, fresh pod peas. I had three little marshmallows for my make-do dessert. I would have had some yoghourt or lemon mousse, but Iceland and Sainsbury’s didn’t have any in stock – Grumph! 

So, there it is! A day of misery, defeatism, joy, laughter and utter confusion- just a typical day for Inchcock! Cheers!

Inchcock Today: Sunday 5th June 2022 – With Odeing

ODE OF THE DAY

SPOTTY-FACED TOO!

ODE TO LIFE

I’m searching to find actuality…
But combining this with reality…
It is not easy or of practicability,
Doreen Dementia lurks sinisterly…
Stopping the brain working correctly…
Wrong thoughts and memories run freely…
Confusion is rampant, daily… hourly!

But, no point in acting sourly…
It’ll only make me act more dourly,
I must avoid existing dismally…
I used to act so enthusiastically?

I still can, but guilt comes dreadfully…
Forcing thoughts unsympathetically…
This is not me, the old me anyway…
I’ve never been so irascible and broody,
I wish these fears would just go away…

_____________________________________

Sunday 5th June 2022

04:35hrs: I woke; I had a feel around for aches and pains and stretched some limbs, but could not get rid of a feeling that something was wrong? Had I forgotten something? It may have been there being no moist area in the crevices? This means no bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids or Little Inches Fungal Lesion… Good news, though!

I forced my elephantine sized stomached body up onto my feet. Caught my balance easy enough, grabbed metal Micky and hobbled to the wet room in reply to urgent messages from the intestines for the Porcelain Throne to be utilised.

Trotsky Terence kicked off with a splattering noise when my bottom hit the plastic seat; in seconds, all done! Stinky, almost liquid and for the first time ever – the evacuated product lay the steaming… in three distinctly different shades of brown? Very pale, a khaki and almost black sections floated around together? Another mammoth job of cleaning up required, which, while being done, was accompanied by some threatening gurglings and stabbing pains from the innards! Mmm?

I finished the cleaning and sanitising, made up a waste bag, and started prepping to do Josie’s mead. I sliced some mushrooms, chestnuts, onions, and then tomatoes. I got the seasoning and puree added in.

I took shots of the morning view while it was still dark.

The houses in Sherwood, and then one of the car parks on Chestnut Way, opposite my treasured Woodthorpe Court block of flats, from the kitchenette window.

The colours of the vehicles were limited. Grey or silver, black or white, and a red one.

I got on with doing the Ode and updating the Saturday blog.

2: Same again, almost exactly, but less content. More cleaning up is to be done. Tsk! Trotsky is enjoying himself today?

The Carer arrived, a little tense, I thought (Not uptight or anything, just tired, bless her). So I got my charms working to cheer her up as best I could. She came out a little, which I was pleased with. Kiyer, her name, I think. Nibbles were supplied in thanks, and she took the waste bag with her to the chute.

Made a start on today’s template, then finished Saturday’s book and sent it to WordPress. Emailed the link.

At this stage, it dawned on what the odd feeling was when I woke up. I didn’t need a weewee! That was about 4½ hours ago, and I still haven’t needed one?

The sphygmomanometer was utilised to get the Blood Pressure readings. Another set of reasonable returns for today, as it has been for three days on the trot now! SYS 148. DIA 70 and the Pulse had gone up smidgeon to 91bpm.

My Chinese (Hong Kong) made Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, showed an increase to 34.6°c. I think that’s a good sign. Much better than of late…

Off to check on Josie’s chilli meal. All looked and tasted good when I had a spoonful.

Aha! A weewee is needed at last. But it’s a false alarm; nothing came out at all?

Got some blog creating started at last on this one. Then had to stop to concentrate on getting Josie’s meal sorted out. Back in a bit…

Made the chill-con-carne into two meals, one in a tub for Josie to have later on or tomorrow and the porcelain bowl for today. Added a few treats to the tray and took it dead on time as arranged to Josie’s door.

I pressed her bell but got no answer. Oh, dear, have I got it wrong again? Perhaps she’s told me she’s going out today and not wanting a meal? Or is she poorly inside the apartment? A bit of panic overcame me! I went back into the flat to ponder what to do…

I almost dropped the food tray; my mind was in a bit of a pickle. Thank heavens I didn’t, though. As I put the tray down inside the door and turned to close it, I espied Josie’s door opening…

I was well pleased to see she was alright when I asked her, she said, ‘I was on the phone with my sister’. If only the poor gal could remember that I always deliver her meal at 12:00hrs on a Sunday, or maybe even ask her Sister to ring at a different time? Or tell me she wants the meal at another time in future? I went through a few minutes of anguish, not knowing if she was alright or not and what could I do about it? Still, she couldn’t help it, and she was okay. So nevermind.

I got my nosh done and served it on the tray. BBQ rice and two veggie sausages, with a banana to follow. Nice enough. Taste rating 7.2/10

After eating the rice and bangers, I put on a Dr Who DVD, and I promptly nodded off. Of course, within minutes, I jumped back into life, as is usual for me nowadays. And I felt like I could manage something else to eat. I took the ray knife and porcelain bowl into the kitchen and soaked them in the washing up bowl. At first, I thought, aha, I’ll have some cornflakes, checked to see if there was enough milk to use, and remembered about the NoBull ice cream in the freezer. I opted to have that instead. I polished it all off, and boy, it was so tasty too! Took the tray back to the sink and washed it with the other stuff in the bowl.

Carer Kiya arrived and got me sorted out, taking the waste bag with her.

Now a new thought arrived. I’ll have to find out where I bought the vegetarian ice cream and get some more ordered; it was that good! I checked on the J Sainsbury order coming tomorrow but could not find any vegetarian ice cream at all. So, I had a look at the Iceland site. Ah, there it was, and on offer as well! I had to spend a minimum of £40, but that’s no problem for a shopaholic like me. Hehehe! Veggie burgers, treats for the carers, cheese & onion pasties, strawberries, tomatoes, mushrooms, butter, BO spray, spring water, chips, and, of course, the NoMoo ice cream!

Good heavens, Herbert’s did a bit of clanging about just now, and it’s nearly midnight. Humph!

I’ve just realised I’ve only had two weewees all day?

I’ll get this finished off and posted.

See’s ya later!

Inchcock: Thurs-Fri 2-3rd June 2022

Manic Morning Ode

I think of odd things, many sorts, some ulteriorly…
Some thoughts are of electrical technicality…
The TV stopped working, the DVD too…
The computer does its own thing, getting me into a stew,
The help pamphlet is all written metrically,
But I was educated in inches and things imperially!

I write thoughts in an ode, mostly inferiorly…
Cause my sleeping is now all somnambulistically,
I went to the Porcelain Throne, and it came out like gooey glue!
Concentration is hard, lack of kip I rue…
But making these crap odes, I still pursue,
I don’t think I love owt else I do…

But dreams and hopes, I had a few…
Into the ether, they all got threw,
Oh, dearie me, Throne time again, stinkaroo!
What does the future hold? Do I want a preview?
Whatever, if any, will not hold any bijou…
I know! I’ll give myself a sanity interview?

Thursday 2nd June 2022

From my scribbled notes: 30% of which I couldn’t decipher or guesstimated.

04:40hrs: I gave up trying to stay asleep; the jumping awakes were endless again! Rose for a wee-wee. (Unreadable) Something to do with the Canon camera?

Put the kettle on, made a brew of JS Extra-Strong Brown Label tea, and tried to sort out the Canon camera’s problem. Gave up and went to make another brew. This time, using the rather delightful full-bodied Thompsons Signature tea.

Very tasty! Took a photo from the kitchen window, through the glass.

Took another photo of the view using the flash. I can’t remember why; maybe I could have been testing to see if the flash worked? I’ve still not remembered what the original fault was? I used the Fuji after this. So whatever it was (I’ll remember soon) had not been righted or mended yet. (I’m assuming here?)

The Boot’s Chinese made Blood Pressure machine’s sphygmomanometerisationing gave me a bit of a shock this morning! I checked on the NHS DVT site. SYS 174, DIA 67 and Pulse of 88.

Ah, well. I got the body temperature done. It’s a little low again, but it has been for weeks now; I don’t feel any worse for it… I’ve got the eyes, Doreen Dementia etc., to worry me more. It’ll be back down tomorrow, I expect.

A lot of squashed up scribbling on the notepad here. Tea, view (but I can’t find any photos of it?). Bogging, hard work, errors, mistakes… Finished blog, sent off, emailed link, Pinterested and Facebooking.

Window cleaning Joe arrived. Nice chap. He lets me waffle on without looking too bored at me. A good quality that is on a man. There is some more undecipherable squiggling here… no, I can’t make it out.

Ah, this I can… the swine!

It’s an exciting bit of writing here… Best I can make out; what it says is: Blu snaps Herb? WP Reader…

Ah, that’ll be Herbert, the contemptuous, hoity-toity, holier-than-thou, can’t-do-wrong chap living above me making noise again.

The tootsies and toes looked a smidge bedraggled when I came out of the wet room. It had not gone all that well in the ablutionary session either.

When I took a wee-wee, the product escaped in trickles, yet the after dribble lasted three times as long as the main event did! Then came a cropper on the trolley wheel… I’ve not done yet… Little Inchies had to be cleaned again and medicationalised… which means. Then as I was leaving through the door, there were no injuries this time. In fact, I went into a scenario! The lesion and toe were enough for me to cope with anyway.

Took a snap of RVD’s (Red Van Man’s) parking in the end car park. Someone had beaten him to his favourite, ‘I’m not bothered’, illegal no parking chevron spot.

Hehehe! I felt a little sorry for him, really.

I got the nosh sorted out and served up. I enjoyed it but fell asleep eating it, woke up, and finished off the cold meal without any bother or interest. I just accepted that Dementia Doreen will be with me forever now. Not a pleasant thought.

Carer Lisa arrived as I was about to take the tray through to get the things washed up. Nibbles and plonk offered in thanks. Nice gal.

I came over, all accepting again. There is nowt that can be done about Peripheral Neuropathy; I’ve accepted that from the off. But Doreen’s Dementia is the one ailment that’s getting to me. I leave taps running, cooking on and in, the stove… and I honestly can’t tell you what day or year it is… Yes, I can. (Just looked at the computer! A depression with a difference suddenly tonight. A smidge of morbidity with it… no, no, that’s not the right word… erm… a type of self-declaration, come of affirmation of any ability or interest from anyone, in trying to help me out. My mind is crumbling… well, the body is not doing much better. Hehe! Yet I accept the situation because, as I see it, there really is nothing to be done to help with the Dementia or dying peripheral neurotransmitter battles. I hope to live and love it long enough to get the teeth, eyes, and hearing treated.

I sat there for a couple of hours in utter silence – Yes! The Thought-Storms had abandoned me for the first time in months. Actually, this bothered me a bit! I was saved by the World-Wide-Hum, and both started being noisy in the extreme… but I think I welcomed it. I managed as blank a mind as must be possible. Still, the overriding view of acceptance, nothing to be done, lingered... I noted the time, 21:00hrs, as I tried to get some shut-eye. At 21:03hrs, the Thought Storms with apparently recharged batteries kicked off!

Sweet Morpheus didn’t stand a chance. I lay there fighting, talking to, and cursing the self-nit-picking, derogatory Thought Storms. Never had them as bad, and in the end, I got up around three o’clock for a most unwilling wee-wee, and again I suffered from the. Now I was feeling somewhat fed up in the extreme! So, I went through to put the kettle on… Continued below!

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Friday 3rd June 2022

As if I wasn’t in a self-hating depressive, elegiacal, had-enough mood already: I got in the kitchen and realised I’d left the hot water tap running! Naturally, the water was stone cold. But it got worse!

I spotted that I’d also left the fridge door open! Self-denigration and a sense of fear or apprehension came over me. Which I was almost wallowing in? When the bowels demanded that I visit the wet room.

This case is entirely different to yesterday’s evacuation. Trotsky Terence was in charge. Gooey, messy… and it took me ages to get things cleaned up. I must have dropped or knocked over the walking stick four times, yet my self-anger calmed down! I developed a new to me outlook! A semi, but weak determination not to let things get to me. Because things will not get any better, I can try to alter my responses? It’s not doing me any good getting all het-up! I tried to find last night’s ‘Acceptance Mode’, and sure enough, things calmed down.

I remembered the high BP of Thursday and went to finally make a brew of Thompsons’ Punjana, relaxed as much as I could, and got the sphygmomanometer going. And sure enough, the BP was lower. SYS 147 (from 174), DIA 70 (67), and Pulse at 81 (88). According to the NHS, today’s reading is acceptable; 60-85 bpm is suggested. According to my Chinese Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co, the body temperature. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was 33.6°c, up a bit.

The feet still looked and felt a little sore.
But have often hurt me much more,
I must stop moaning anymore.
I can’t put it any blunter,
Accept things, as said thereinbefore
It’s the only way to perdure!

I spent many hours on the computer, updating blogs, correcting cock-ups, and eventually getting the blog done and posted. Then, Pinteresting, WP reading, and WordPress Comment making.

T’was an unexpected pleasure to see that Carer Richard called this morning. He didn’t have time for a good chinwag as he had another call to do, bless him. He listened to my tales a while, I offered nibble and drinkies of his choice, and off he went, we exchanged all-the-bests.

Back to the computer, but Mr Fries, the $23million a year salaried leader of shit Liberty-Global, let me down yet again. This week, about 12 times, the overpaid, number-juggler & cruncher has proved his inability to get a Virgin Media internet signal to stay on in Nottingham. Please don’t think this has created jealousy and hatred for the scum-bucket. Oh, no!

When Mr Fries managed to get a signal back, I spent many hours doing the top Ode for this blog and updating it. I was doing well… until…

The smoke & mirrors man, the fiddler of figures, and incapable of running an internet service without losing the signal, Mr Fries, the Mafia looking character, fails again! Humph!

While waiting on Mr Fries to get his minions to resupply Winwood Heights with his unreliable, pathetic, crap, overcharging, customer-hating enslaved people to get the signal back. I took a few photographs. Mayhaps I should send this to Mr Fries, so he knows where he is not sending, but overcharging for it, internet supply?

So, I took more photographs while waiting for Fries, the £23m salaried boss, to get the Liberty-Global signal again.

Only one vehicle was parked, snuggly on the no-parking yellow chevrons at the end of the car park on Chestnut Way. Only one vehicle in, RVD (Red-Van-Man).

The front car park opposite my beloved Woodthorpe Court.

The car park faces Winwood and Winchester Courts.

Hello, he’s off again. Clunk, clatter! Back to the photographicalisationing…

Then, a photo of the beautiful clouds in the sky.

Not many folks out there; I suppose they are watching the ER celebrations for the Queens?

The Queen was praised for “staying the course” as royals joined dignitaries at a thanksgiving service for the Platinum Jubilee at St Paul’s Cathedral. Referring to her love of horse racing, Archbishop of York Stephen Cottrell said she is “still in the saddle”, even though she could not attend. The Duke and Duchess of Sussex joined for their first royal event together since leaving the UK two years ago. Meanwhile, the Queen, 96, watched the service from Windsor Castle.

Well, the Royal Family members all look happy, don’t they? Charles has waiting so long to get the Throne I don’t think he’s up to it anymore. Hehehe!

I got some spuds boiling to make cheesy mash with.

Well done, Mr Fries! The internet’s back on again. Touch of well-deserved Sarcasm there…

Got the meal prepared and served up. Cheesy topped halved boiled potatoes, baked off to crisp the red Leicester cheese. Veggie sausages, baked beans with Henderson’s relish added, wholemeal cobs, tomatoes, and a banana.

Halfway through it and watching a Heartbeat episode on the box, I was in my element. The evening carer arrived. Chloe, nice gal. Got the meds sorted and had a little natter. She took the waste bag with her to the shoot for me. I locked the door and got back to finishing the not so hot meal. Dementia Doreen and number-cruncher Liberty Global’s Mr Fries are to blame for confusing me as to what time it was. Hehehe!

With its pink-tinged coloured streaky clouds, the sky looked absolutely amazing to me tonight. No doubt that Mother Nature is a beautiful beast! I can’t recall being so interested in the skies all my life.

We need to start straight away protecting this planet. We’ve polluted it uncaringly, not a thought for the future generations… if there is to be any. And all for gain and personal profit. So shadow-benders and number-crunchers like Mr Fries can earn $23 million a year, and Putin can do a Hitler in attacking other countries! Nowadays, he is doing it risk-free. No Americans to save the day for Ukraine, like they did for the UK, France, Poland etc., sad.

Got down in the £300 second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner on a mission to get some sleep. Huh! Well, I did, but it was hours later!

END OF THE WORLD THOUGHTS in Ode…

All tellurians have something in common – caducity!
Humans have greed, jealousy, egocentricity & abstrucity,
The majority get cheered from money, not true felicity…
They destroy the planet with great feracity…
Believe me, mankind has this ability, fruitfully…
To gain their lucre, they’ll use violence and feracity…
Every one of our nation’s leaders leads with lubricity!
I suppose this Ode reads with a certain mordacity?
So, let’s save the earth with haste and pertinacity!

Inchcocks Tuesday 31st May 2022 – With Ode

ODE to MEMORIES

♫ Memories are made of this… ♫

Memories I have of sweets costing a farthing!
Getting skin cancer through over-sunbathing,…
I had sex once when I was thirtysomething…
Being six, Mam ran away, and I learnt snogging,
Christine, her name, I was her plaything!

Skidmarks on my unwashed underclothing.
Trying my hand as a pugilist, boxing…
I never won a bout; I was constantly losing…
So tried the sports club amateur wrestling,
Just one fight, it left me frothing and bleeding,

Years later, I tried my hand at WordPressing,
Got dementia. It is very depressing…
Worked in security, tried a spot of sleuthing,
Caught a crook once; he was very scathing,
He was found not guilty; I was seething!

I went undercover pretending to be birdwatching…
Dressed in camouflage, green and brown clothing…
Binoculars to hand, RT and truncheon packing…
Fell out of the tree as I suspect, watching…
Lost my job; it was gutwrenching!

Realising how bad I was at odes & blogging,
When I was getting on a bit, seventysomething,
I had a period of deep thoughts and soulsearching,
Seeking whatever, a reason to carry on trying…
Now I’m approaching the time for dying…
Oddly enough, there’s no crying, just a bit of sighing!

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TUESDAY 31st MAY 2022

05:10hrs: After yet another horrendous night of shooting awake, nodding off and bursting back into ersatz life, I gave up; I needed a wee-wee, anyway. But that in itself was a nightmare… well, morning mare!

The regular of late, trickling, waiting and whistling, was followed by an even more extended period of dribbling! At least by taking my time and making sure that things had stopped, I avoided any splashing of the furniture, carpet or my body parts.

I started the sphygmomanometerisationing. BP first, with satisfactory results, as you can see here on the left. A smidge high, but nothing compared to many of last week’s figures for the SYS, at 149, DIA 74, and Pulse 78bpm. Very good! The Chinese (Hong Kong) was built by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was still showing low. Compared to the target set by the hospital, of 35°c, at 33.7°c. But no worries!

I made up a waste bag and then went to the wet room to check out the feet and ankles that I found affecting my balance and hurting me a smidgeon.

I dug out yesterday’s photo of the pins to compare it with today’s (top).

Quite a change? The DVT and old ankle blotch had gone all artistic and more pronounced. Which is what the pains did as the day developed. They have not been this bad for months? Then I got the kettle on but didn’t get to make a brew as the innards summoned me back to the wet room.

Once again, the motion was reluctant to start moving. So, I had a go at the crossword book, a different one, as the previous one had got me struggling. Got a couple of answers in, and the sludge started coming! I can’t recall ever having a more gooey sticky, pongy evacuation than this was! Half a new toilet roll later, I started the mammoth task of cleaning up. Had a wash, got dressed, and went back to the kitchenette.

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana, and got some photos uploaded to CorelDraw, then the computer. Got the Monday blog updated; it took me a long time. During which the feet started stinging even when I was sat down. What’s going off down there?

Carer Richard arrived. The lad didn’t look too good. So I launched some humour at him, to which he responded well. As he got the medications to me, the poor chap started sneezing and coughing, and he was sweating so much! Not that that stopped him for long, he even showed me how to get the Grammarly extension, not to give corrections for sentence building. Unfortunately, it stopped Grammarly from working at all! Hehehe! I laughed because we got it back on and laughed about it. (Phew!) Richard didn’t look any better when he departed, but I think he was a little happier. I hope he is not coming down with any illness. Fingers crossed that he’ll be back tomorrow and feeling better. I got the Monday blog post done last, and the Morrison delivery arrived.

The delivery person brought up the flowers first, so he didn’t damage them, and he went down to the other bags; that was kind of him. These are for the Wardens. He fetched the different parcels, and I got them into the kitchen.

Got the things stored away. There is no frozen today; the freezer would struggle to get a biro or single fruit gum in. At least I got some of the battered chips, not the ones I wanted, but the last ones tasted nice enough. They substituted for battered onions with a tray of mashed turnips? Still, they’ll do for me. The bananas almost made me feel guilty! They looked like a set of parents with their children. Alright, so I’m a little weird at times! It has to be admitted, I fear. My travel into loony-land is taking on a little speed lately. Hehehe!

Cleaner Esther arrived. Talking all the time, picking fault with me not getting out for some exercise… then she took the laundry down to get done. I missed most of what she said. But, I did pick up on my ordering too much food. I’ve long stopped bothering to explain things to her. Hehehe!

I took Morrison’s Amazon food delivery wrappers to the waste chute. The fire door was wedged open into and from the flat’s lobby area. Some work of some sort was taking place. The lighting of some sort, I believe.

I limped (the flipping feet are getting even more painful now?) down through the lift lobby and to the waste room door at the end to the left.

I partly trapped my knuckle in the cast iron lid as I shoved the bags into the chute. Nothing new; I’m becoming something of an expert in doing this!

Back to the flat lobby and through into 72 Woodthorpe Court single apartment. Well, I would; I live there. Hahaha! I may be losing it again here?

I got some Facebooking done and the WordPress reading. Later, got the oven warming up for the nosh, specifically the battered chips.

Esther returned with the washing, all done. Oh, the tongue lashing I suffered. I’ve no idea what they were about, mind you. But they flowed at me without relenting or relaxing for a good few minutes. Deafness can have its advantages. Hehe!

I’ll get the meal started, and then, if I don’t fall asleep, try to get the top Ode-making started. Got the beer-battered chips in the oven and got some WordPress comments answered, then went to check the ovens in the chips… or even the chips in the oven.

Enjoyed this plateful immensely. Especially the beer-battered chips. And soft bloomer sliced bread.

A Taste-rating of 8/10 was given. Then, as I had failed to get any desserts with the food order (my fault, Doreen Dementia’s), I guiltily had one of the baby bananas. You can see how small they were here. Tasty lovely. I’m not sure, but I might have heard it crying as I bit into it! Hahaha!

Washed the pots up. And then proceeded to drop the washing-up liquid bottle to the floor via my right toes. What a mess! Got it sorted out and just finished it.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and in came the Evening Carer. Well, Carers, mob-handed. Hehehe! They got the medications sorted, and we had a three-way natter for a couple of minutes, and off they went. Bless ’em.

I got the TV turned on, and there was no reception at all? Mayhaps the electricians, needed to turn off some connection to get done whatever they were doing? So, I put in a Heartbeat DVD to watch. The message came up No DVD inserted! Oh!

I reset the Freeview system. But only a third at most of the channels were loaded, and all West Midlands? So, reset again, picking the ‘All’ option. This time it came up and seemed to be working. But the DVD wasn’t having it! Humph!

I could see the sky’s colour changing through the paper-thin curtains. And nipped out to take a photo of the unique cloud and sky colouring. Not the brightest I’ve seen by a long shot, but I thought it was an awe-inspiring bit of nature.

Fifteen minutes later, the glow of the sun’s setting permeated the room, and I hobbled into the kitchenette. To take this picture. Another masterpiece of nature. I’m so glad I didn’t fall asleep now. But soo regretted thinking this.

The sixth night on the trot of being unable to get to sleep. Couldn’t read a book, thanks to cataracts, glaucoma and saccades. Put the TV on but could not hear it or read the subtitles easily. But kept springing awake again, seemingly every five minutes or so. After perhaps twenty jump-awakes on the 21st, I gave up and rose onto my feet for a wee-wee. It was hard work and well gone midnight before I drifted off…

Morning all!

Inchcocks Diary (Curtailed), for Fri-Saturday

First, a few words to explain why this blog is as pathetic as it is

❶ I’ve lost so much time with Liberty-Global Virgin Media going down, I lost count of how many times in the last two days!

❷ Then, today (Saturday), Facebook started doing the same thing!

❸ I took a tumble on Friday, which left me with the shakes.

❹ The eyes seem worse today; it’s a struggle.

❺ Shaking, Shaun returned.

❻ Eyesight still poor

FRIDAY 20th MAY

Good morning; I didn’t do this blog until Saturday evening. There are very few memory notes on the pad and not many photos to help the grey cells out. Facebook was going off again so often, and Liberty-Global – Virgin Media. So this is not going to be very erudite… not that it ever was. There will no doubt be some guesstimating and missed events.

Up at 01:30hrs to get the previous day’s blog completed. WP Reading. Comments, and I pressed on for hours to get the blog done and posted. Facebooked until it, and Liberty-Global Virgin was going down so often, I gave up. Try to catch up later.

Carer Valerie called, and I had the shakes at the time, which worried her a bit; bless her. I was still a bit unsteady when the Morrison delivery arrived, but when he left the packages in the doorway and had scooted, I started to come round nicely. I took some photos while I got the things away.

Still, the fridge didn’t look overfull to me? Could it be the eyes? Or a ghost coming into the flat and eating my stuff while I slept? I put it down to the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, or ectoplasms, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? I sorted things out but could sense, no idea how, but this happens sometimes, a feeling that either an involuntary right-leg, Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was on the way and building up in preparation. It was a tingling sensation up and down my right side, where the stroke affected me. Huh! I decided to take as much care as possible to ensure there would be no ending up on the floor again today!

Herbert kicked off with the clattering, seemingly forever dropping things, drills, hammers, and meal boxes… Humph!

Arrived, I was not too good, and she noticed it. Said I was looking sweaty and pale, bless her.

Ablutions, then blogging away, making little progress. The computer went off again, so I made a meal; I can’t really remember if it was this one or not.

I recall going in the wet room, but I must have had a funny turn cause if I’d worked it out right, I was in there for an hour or maybe fell asleep on the Throne?

I had no idea who the evening caller was; I wasn’t even sure one had called… no… one did… I reckon. Shakes bad.

At it again. Clunk-thudding it.

Ah, I think it was Carer Cheeky Charlie who called on me, but… maybe not.

Got to sleep easier tonight, but the jumping awake was annoying.

SATURDAY 21st MAY

Gave up trying to sleep and rose around 01:30hrs.

Worked on blogging, no washing. Did my best.

Serene Sarah, I’m sure. Or Cheeky Charlie, was it? Both are lovely gals.

After she’d gone, I went to use the Throne. I was doing alright, had a wash while in the wet room, and as I turned towards the door, I had an involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance! I hit the wall and slid to the floor, and made a bruising contact with the floor in no time! It had to come; I expected this yesterday. Minutes afterwards, the lower back pain started and still has not stopped. I’ll see it goes, but I may call the NHS 111 number if I am forced to seek assistance. I won’t do it now cause the pain may ease off as time goes on. I’m such a hero… Hehehe! I’ve been a little wobbly on the legs since the Accifauxpas.

I’ve been a bit unlucky this week. The 40 bus did not stop to pick us up at the bus stop. The tumbles and knocks this week. Walked into doorframes, dropped a bowl of potatoes and cheese, burnt my hand, and slipped off of kerb hobbling up Winchester Street… so, everything is normal there then.

At it again. Clunk-thudding.

The Carer is due anytime now. Got a wash and got into the jammies. Then remembered the potatoes I’d put in the slow-cooker 13 hours ago… Mild Panic Mode Engaged, and shot off to check on things in the kitchen…

As I was getting them out of the pot with tongues, I got a hickey as I caught my little finger in the gripper. Oh, heckithump! Not only were they too soft, each one had blackies on the inside when I sliced them, So they are even looser now.

Carer Valerie arrived and asked me if I needed any help with the spuds. I declined her offer but thanked her. She got the tablets given to me and went on her way, taking the waste bags with her. ♥

I got back to the now lesser-blackeyed potatoes I’d sliced, and put them in the oven, to hopefully crisp them up a smidge. Got some tomatoes o the plate ready and two slices of imitation pork. But…

I cast my mind back to when I had to cook and clean for Dad. I’d got no bread, well I had, but it was in the freezer. So I got a few slices out, put them in an empty saucepan with the garden peas, and hoped they would thaw out before I needed them. No freeze, no fridge, no hot water other than what we boiled on the fire and stove, and no electricity (but we did get it later). Easy peasy when we got DC electricity fitted, gone were the candles… and damned good riddance! How the hell did I manage?

I checked on the potatoes, now sliced and in the oven. The sun was beginning to go down, and I took a few minutes pareidoliaing at the cloud formations. II thought I saw a mouth and lips or an imitation black hole that was white. Hehehe!

Got the fodder served up. The slow cooker and sliced and oven-baked potatoes were terrible, possibly my worst effort in years. But everything else was fine and tasty. Taste: 6.5/10.

Off for a wee-wee and had another figure-finding session at the kitchenette window’s clouds. Sadly, no pictures or visions were seen in the clouds this time. Although looking at them now (Sunday morning), I think I spot a monster in there flying?

As I searched for Sweet Morpheus, Herbert gave me a last short mechanical serenade with a whirling, whining sound to round off, decrescendo style. Possibly, an underpowered drill chugging? I mentally wished the aloof Laodicean a good night.

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock Today: Sunday 8th May 2022: Odes & Diary

LIBERTY-GLOBAL VIRGIN MEDIA IS DOWN YET AGAIN

8 times up to now – For a total of four hours

And he can’t even get a mock-imitation internet into Nottingham to work!

Jealous? Me?  The Rich Turd

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

Sunday, 8th May 2022

Morning Ode

Waking up this morning, it was almost staggering,
No cramps in the hands or legs, free of any hurting,
I rose from the recliner; the sunshine was twinkling,
Then, I felt my stomach suddenly itching…
And found some new patches of bruising,
What, where, why or how was just bemusing…
No time to ponder on these, as I got an inkling…
At the same time, my innards started rumbling…
Get to the Porcelain Throne before there’s any leaking…
From Inchies fungal lesion, the blood was trickling!
I thought things were going so well; this it’s sickening!
To the wet room, shaving and medicating…

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Came out of the wet room to start prepping Josie’s beef & veg chilli. To add to the meat and beans later, I got two saucepans filled, one with the chill and seasoned it, the other with the fresh leeks and mushrooms cooking. Merged them later, tasted and added a bit of chilli to them.

The timing for the need for Porcelain Throne was a good one this time; I’d just finished the prepping. No pain, no bleeding and no liquids flowing out. No pain, no bleeding and no fluids flowing out. No pain, no bleeding and no juices flowing out. What a sensational  (I don’t mean to get excited, but this was relatively rare for me).Almost a pleasure! Cleared the kitchen mess I’d made doing the prepping and took the waste bags to the doorway.

08:20hrs, a little later than usual… Oh, no, it’s the weekend, always odd hours at the weekend); the Carer, Chloe, I think, arrived. A nice gal. Did the medications, and I insisted she take some nibbles in thanks. ♥

I tested Josies’ fodder, and it tasted and looked good.

I lowered the heat to a keep-warm level and remembered to stir it regularly (mostly).

Got the computer on, and to my utter amazement, the card reader worked straight away. So I got the photo’s uploaded into CorelDraw before the connection was lost. I was not getting too hopeful that some miracle had happened and thought the SD reader had repaired itself and would work properly again. Because it hasn’t done so for many months now. But that’s a good start, having two things so greatly improved… the card reader (It failed again next time) and the Porcelain Throne Session being virtually pain and bleeding-free! Am I waffling?

Here are the photos rescued, with a bit of guessing as to when and why they were. (Dementia Doreen!)

A blood pressure reading that had gone up a bit.

Not sure what day these were taken, of course… possibly Friday or Saturday? Maybe?

Obviously, a morning check this one was. Dark without my using the flash, it seems.

See? Hehe! I can have these moments of inspiration… sometimes.

I wish I could remember which day this captured an infrequent miracle of our beloved bad parking expert, the Red-Van-Man, using a proper parking slot!

Mind you, someone had nicked his usual spot on the yellow keep-clear chevrons near the grey and white, whatever it is. Hehehe!

Don’t worry; he reclaimed it the next day!

A simple, quick meal for Inchcock here? Potatoes, tomatoes and a veggie burger, with dessert to follow. It must have been one of his staying up late nights; he’s had a lot of them recently with computer and internet problems suffering.

Aha, my Amazon delivery. Now which day was that, Friday, mayhaps?

This is of products thus delivered.

I tried one of the potato-mash pots last night, I think, and was very impressed with their taste.

Ah, the jolly Winwood Heights Red-Van-Man reclaiming his illegal, naughty parking spot.

Below: A view of the car park on Chestnut Way in front of the flats.

I’m assuming I took this photo due to the novelty of seeing a scooter parked up, all very neat and precisely done. Well done!

Ah, I’m almost sure this was Saturday night’s, nosh. Of course, my being certain is equal to an average person’s ‘I’m guessing. Hehehe! I do remember the taste of this one. Ding on mushroom pate is a treat for me, and a taste rating of 8.5/10 was granted. The only thing that was not up to scratch for me were the potatoes, which were not cooked enough! Me… getting baked potatoes wrong! I am ashamed!

I found an interesting bit on the remember notepad when I got here. As my Cataracted eyes read it… it said: “Worill conf/st bg hag” I did not have the foggiest of what it meant. Can anyone help me?

Beginning to get to me now. Pretty persistent with the clumping, banging and scratching-like noises. Any more, and I will have to retaliate with a good clouting of the overhead pipework with Metal-Micky… No, no, no, that’ll make me as ignorant and uncaring as the contemptuous, hoity-toity, sullen, toploftical Herbert is. I must not sink to his naughty-haughty ways.

I got Josies Sunday meal sorted and delivered to her door. I used one of the new porcelain bowls. A strawberry cheesecake for dessert, the usual treats for her to keep her going, and an extra dollop of chilli in another container so she can microwave it for later on whenever she fancies it.

I took her a different can of plonk today. A Woo-Woo, which is popular with the Carers. Hahaha! I don’t think she was impressed with it, so back to the G&T next week. The chilli tasted good to me as I tested it.

I went back to the flat and cleaned up the mess from the cooking. Then onto the computer and got the blog for Fri-Sat done and posted off. Facebooked, Pinterested, then WP Reader, then Comments tackled. I made a start on this blog’s layout.

This time it went down for ages. After half an hour, I gave up and got myself a quick nosh made up.

I cooked two veggie burgers and added a part-baked baguette later. Cut the bread into four pieces, halved the burgers and inserted each in a baguette slice. Took this snap of it.

Then, I added the last banana, the last strawberry cheesecake, and some pickled gherkins and took this photograph. Went into the main room, settled with the tray on my knee, put the goggle box on…

Realised I’d not put the tomatoes on the plate! I got up carefully, not wanting to drop the tray of food, which I avoided.

Went to the kitchenette fridge to get some tomatoes… Boy, what a toe-stubbing I gave myself on the wheel of the server trolley!

Then, the neurotransmitters failed, and I dropped the pack of tomatoes on the floor! Argh!

The Evening Carer arrived just after I’d done the washing up from the meal. I think it was the lovely Chloe again? But Doreen’s Dementia does play tricks with me constantly. Grumph!

But no! I’m amazed I can still do this blog. It takes a long time, though, a lot too long. With the Peripheral Neuropathy, Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, Dizzy Dennis etc. I was well tired out by now, washed, changed, and got down in the c1968 recliner, intending to watch something or other on the telly…

But, a good thing: it was the much-needed, well overdue precious Sweet Morpheous who took quickly took control. Zzzz!

🙏 May the Spirit of Agathology Flourish 🙏

Inchcock Today – Memories Evoked + Odes

Looking at an old photograph can stir memories, even in some Doreen Dementia suffers, like I am. So here are my initial ruminations of looking at this picture… They may come over as a little out of sync, but one’s thought triggers another. I had to be adding them than before I wrote what I was doing… then I forgot what I had started typing. Sometimes remembering later, begin to correct things, and another unrelated memory pops up… to be forgotten about again. Later on, I got all confused but carried on anyway. Sorry about this.

This now embarrassing, brownie-camera photographicalisation shows the signs of authentic poverty in which I grew up. Although, at the time, I believed we were luckier than some of the residents of Brookfield Place. But not many.

Obviously, I was scrubbed up using carbolic soap. I was redressed into pants that didn’t fit; the crumbling walls on the 1899-built two-up, two-down terraced house make me cringe when I see it now. See that? I was nine house bricks high at the time. Not much taller now!

Having a photo taken was an event in those days. I believe Mr Wright, whose family lived at the end of the small terrace, number 10 (I might be wrong, of course). Mr Wright was the only person nearby who was well off enough to own a camera then and generously took pictures and got them developed and given to those in them. A wonderful man.

Christine. Mr Wright and Jane are on holiday in Mablethorpe! I recall feeding the family dog Rover (No pets were allowed on the caravan site in those days.) each time Mr, Mrs Wright, and daughter Christine went on holiday, taking Sister Jane with them; after Jane returned home, I’d better explain that while I think of it.

A better-off side of the family, with five boys, wanted to adopt Sister Jane. Dad opposed this, the fights started, and it was agreed that Jane would of out to Italy with the family. Which left me thinking, Jane was ‘out there’ having a ball, while I was left with Dad (Mother had done another runner from the police). Had to do the cooking and what cleaning I could family. Clean out and set the fire but did not start it until I saw Dad coming home. He thought it was overspending to make a fie for only one person. Give him his dinner, and get the things ready for the morning in the coal house ready for clearing out and resetting again in the morning. So, the crux of it was; that I was a smidge jealous, thinking that Jane was out there, in the sunshine, wanting for nothing, living the life of Riley… While Jane was ‘over there’ thinking that I was at home, living the life of Riley! Hahaha! In truth, poor Jane was miserable and had it a lot worse than me! She was molested, had to be a maid to the boys… When we found out we were both miserable, we had to laugh. As I understand it, each of the lads, who are now men, has been arrested and found guilty of various nefarious offences. Worra family!

Recollections of the folks living near my beloved Brookfield Place came to mind.

From the left, Sister Janet, Inchcock, Christine Wright, Mrs Wright and Walter. Can’t remember what we were doing or where we were when taking the snap. Either Mr Wright to son Brian would have taken it?

This picture, I do remember having being taken. A Door-knock photographer took it (2/3d a photo 11p in today’s money). Not cheap! The rather distinguished-looking (I don’t know how or why I remembered that?) cameraman said it’s usual to have a girl and boys toy in hand. I recall Jame going up to get her teddy from the bedroom, and I nipped next door to borrow a ball from my mate Jack. On my behalf, returning to have the picture taken. But putting on that forced smile was almost painful for me. Har-har!

A terrible picture of my blonde locks. This brings a scary memory back to me. Often I would be in the backyard. Our house was about eight-foot from a railway viaduct. On the left in the top photo) I would be playing or chopping wood in the backyard and the train; it was a busy line, with Arkwright Street Station, high above the houses. We got goods, commuter and the London Express’s all passing throughout the day and night. The houses shook, the windows rattled, the light swayed…

Yet, they never woke me up or bothered me because I grew up with it. Later, when we moved to Ipswich Circus, it was so quiet that I couldn’t sleep for months! True!

I lost my plot there, didn’t I? Sorry, where was I?…

Oh, yes! In the backyard, a neighbour usually would run at me and start to beat me around the head. This is all genuine! I had to wait until they had stopped, to find out why they were clouting me… had I done something naughty (not unknown), or as it usually was, the hot ashes falling from the trains had set my hair on fire again. (Which, more often than not, was the case)

It’s not surprising that I started losing my hair at 20-years of age?

Christine Wright, in front of her house in Brookfield Place.

Not that Inchcock is creeping out behind her? Hehe!

I’ve no memory of this photograph being taken.

I think this one was taken in Wilford or West Bridgford.

Christine and Janet got me to pretend to be knocked over and lay under the Morris Ten car. Haha!

The next one, I can vaguely remember.

The hosepipe was out in the backyard. Fed through the window from Chrissie’s kitchen tap. It’s the summertime, and someone will get soaked, methinks… I vaguely remember grabbing the hosepipe in the cause of self-protection. When those two got together, there was always a danger of me being injured, embarrassed or molested! In this case, all three. And I got a good soaking, to boot!

♫ Memories are made of these… ♫

My family, as such, were Methodists, Wesleyan,
Dad rarely went to church; Mother was an Aryan…
We soon split up, first off to Sicily, went sister Jane,
Brother Pete joined the army to help keep sane…
Mother ran from the police, again and again…
So it was just Dad and me in the main!

Education and affluence, to me, were strange…
No class, I never heard of a counterpane…
Then, I had no bad habits from which to refrain.
As you’ll read above, I got set on fire by many a train,
I’d never dined out or been on holiday or on a jet plane…
I used to get bad headaches, not a posh migraine…
But life was never dull or mundane!

I soon learned that nothing in life is free or certain!
An outside toilet, in winter it froze up, even the chain!
The only interest in sex came from the Chaplain…
I never went abroad, to Italy, France or Bahrain,
Shopped at jumble sales in search of a bargain…
I was considered weird cause I didn’t like John Wayne!
My searches for romance were all in vain!

My hopes for my future were low and uncertain,
I’d sit in my flat, glumly looking out through the curtain,
Plans and designs were ruined cause of my scatterbrain,
At least I’ll never become part of Britain’s brain drain!
My sanity was fluctuateable and hard to retain…
Timourousness, trepidation, and a cruel self-disdain…
My confidence and self-esteem had been mislain!
Don’t suppose I’ll ever find them again?

Is my Alto-Ego me, or am I?
Why do I even wonder why?
Would I be happier as a troglodyte?
Would I still like Marmite?
I think I’m losing this brain fight…
My last driblets of sanity are taking flight…

I’ve tried to do moral things and not to be profane,
Up to now, I’ve avoided trying out cocaine,
From alcohol, greed and bullying, I abstain,
Yet feel my life is almost transmundane…
Are my thoughts really mine or nongermane?
Shit!… I’ve forgotten what I was going to write!

.

Inchcocks Photographicalisations, Ode & Diary

Photographicalisations & Diary

♫Fings ain’t wot they used to be…♫

Little did I know the above-written ode would turn out!
I’m worried now; I think I had a memory blank or blackout?
Mistakes n everything I tried to create… a mental wipe-out!
It took me all day to get the blog done, a mind whirlabout…
Problems lasted hours… in fact all day, or thereabout?
Couldn’t get to grips with the day, time, everything, a doubt?
I had to keep stopping when the brain went on a gadabout…

Cataracts and glaucoma made things worse…
The noisy, clang-banging Herbert above made me curse…
Went to the Porcelain Throne; the evacuation was vicious,
Rock-solid: it took me half an hour; this is not fictitious!
It felt about the same size as a trolleybus!
One aspect was not painful or scary; quite the reverse…
Painful, yes, but no bleeding from the rear end, thus…
Washed and did the Germoloid creaming. Oh, that soothes!

From Grammarly, mistakes of all sorts, I was being told,
But I pressed on, which I thought was rather bold…
Dizzy Dennis joined me; Herberts’ noises could still be heard,
Why do I feel so bad could still not be answered,

So what I’m waffling on about…
I did my best, but without any doubt…
Faults mistakes you’ll quickly pick out…
Dates and times mostly, serious and nowt…
From start to finish, throughout…
I suppose this Ode is a criticism redoubt!

I can’t really put a date as such,
The photos, taken over 2½ days,
It may be mixed up datewise in a rush…
To get this blog done… with my mind in a haze,
I dun me bestest, please don’t underpraise…

I’m depressed and in pain, in many ways,
I really have had much betterer days and praise…
The coming of tomorrow and better days,
I’m hoping the confusion doesn’t overstay…
And depression finally breaks away!

Forgive any duplicated photos put in,
With wrong dates & times, I know it’s a sin!
The ailments are bothering me out and within,
My hopes for improvement are relatively thin…
Good job that I don’t drink, or I’d have a gin!.

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

Photographs & minimal Memories

By Jimminee, and jolly good heavens above, what an absolute improvement on yesterday’s sphygmomanometerisationing for the level of blood pressure! Comparing it to Thursdays, nerve-wracking 285 Sys!

It tumbled down to 148, and very welcome it was to see it!

The pulse had dropped as well.

 

Another good result from the thermometer.

It was a dead-on target at 35°c.

I think I was; I had a losing battle against Sock-Glide Glenda again in the wet room. SGG 3 – Inchie 0! It all happened so quickly. Having completed getting the socks on, I was, with only one tiny bruise on the foot, and as I stepped over the frame to grip Glenda to remove her… And seconds later, I was on the deck, entangled in her framework! With a bruise that anyone would be proud of on my shoulder. But then…

Getting up back to my feet (bear in mind I had not got any glasses on at the time). I lunged at the grab-rail to assist my getting up… and missed it entirely! I then had a new bruise to add to the shoulder and wrist ones on my flabby belly as I went back down again and made a painful connection with Sock-Glide-Glenda… again! A few scratches as well, but they are pretty. The Carer said so when she came. She was well impressed with the shoulder bruise. But her favourite was the blotch come bruise on my left man-breast nipple; she was very keen on the pinkness and swelling. Hahaha!

The Iceland food arrived. I’m sure I’ve put all these on before, but it won’t hurt for anyone who may order beef chunks from Iceland to see the photographs of the three packs I bought again. They were all within the sell-by date, too!

On Special offer, I just looked at this close up of the red and khaki coloured lumps they’d sent! It was the same or similar colouring? It reminded me of the only time I’ve seen horsemeat served.

The JS Sainsbury delivery. In the centre of this picture, on the right, you’ll see three tiny sourdough cobs that cost more than the milk roll bread. Talk about hard! Gawd, blimey, they were 80% crust. Did my teeth no good. But I ate what I could salvage from the concrete balls of sourdough later on? 

The ‘Best’ potatoes all had growths of bruises on them.

Can’t recall what night I made this meal. But I can remember enjoying it pretty well. The fishcakes with peas in them were tasty enough, the potato waffles were terrible, as were the fish fingers, all vegetarian. The tomatoes tasted excellent, cake and banana, but the vegan cakes cost more money. The potatoes and peas were disappointing. Taste Rating: 6.5/10.

I think I’ve shown this photo, but I am not sure. Sourdough bread, the Polish style one, mushroom pate and tomatoes, a soft imitation cheese portion, were almost as bad as the cakes. But that bread and pate. Was gorgeous.

.

Mike Fries: A good looking, Mafia-type, $23 million wage earner – no, I’ll take that back, he is not an earner to me.
But, I admire his cunningness in convincing his paymasters at Liberty-Global, to pay out $15 billion to buy out Mr Branson’s Virgin Media. Then instructing the UK telecom call-centre team, never to mention Liberty-Global to any customers? Thus, Mike Fries cannot get his $15b internet service to run for a day without going down several times – and Richard Branson gets all the name-calling and abuse. (He’s clever, you know!)

I imagine that if any proletariat call-centre person was caught mentioning the name Liberty-Global to any poor Virgin Media customers… The least they would come away with would be getting knee-capped & sacked?

He’s a Smoke & Mirrors expert. A figure-conjurer of the highest order. The bosses at the top get the complete treatment from his financial sleight of hand and legerdemain skills. They likely actually are being convinced by Fries of the competency of Virgin Media? Which, of course, does not exist.

There’ll be some financial hocus-pocus going on that convinces the top dogs of his profit-making for them, even if only on paper, so’s to speak. It’ll be out of my league!

I believe his flimflam, hanky-panky, and double-dealings will never be caught. So effective are his smoke & mirrors techniques.

This is a shame because despite wishing him a slow, excruciatingly painful death for his cheating ways and knackering me up every day with his Virgin internet repeatedly failing.

I like his style.

I’m jealous probably. Hahaha!

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

Evening Carer’s just called. Another new gal, pleasant enough with me. I insisted she had some treats, a nibble and a drinkie for putting up with my constant moaning about life. Hehehe!

It’s late now; I’m ready for summat to eat and a kip. I’ve got some spuds baking, pod plead in the saucepan, and a veggie pastie to add to the potatoes if I don’t fall to sleep first. I’ll try to get this finished in the morning.

I’d like to stay awake long enough to get some sunset shots. If Colin Cramps visits again when I get down, I should at least get the sunset photo’d if no sleep. Har-Har!

As I was going to have a check on the fodder cooking, I heard a clattering noise from the room I’d just left. I went back to investigate…

The new giant faux-fur brown throw had somehow or other, slid off of the £300, c1968, second-hand, decrepit, rickety recliner, taking to the floor with it: my Wood-Waking-Stick-Walter, Picker-Upperer-Percival, Shoe-Horn-Horis,  a towel, two pairs of trousers, a pot of Cheeselets, two bottles of spring water, and two cushions! Harrumph!

I got things sorted things out again. And then went back to the kitchen to get the meal prepped and served up. No sunset as such, but the view was eerily misty, enough for me to take a snap.

photographicalisation. Served up the fodder. Two veggie pasties, two potatoes baked, halved and plant butter added. fresh garden peas and tomatoes. A banana and pot of dessert. Taste Rating: 7.8/10.

I got sorted and down to try and stay awake long enough to watch my first episode of Grimm. It started at 22:00hrs, which is too late for me normally. I remember checking the schedule, and it was 15 minutes before Grimm started on the same channel… and thinking at last I’ll get to watch it… Of course, Sweet Morpheus got me, and off to kip, I went before seeing the program start!

I woke a few hours later, a selling channel was on then. I rose for a wee-wee and needed the Porcelain Throne as I was on my way to the wet room.

Rock-solid again! A good hour I was in there, going through pain and having to make it worse by giving my best supportive efforts to constantly edge the concrete torpedo out from the rear end. Gawd it felt good afterwards, though!

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcocks Bungee-Jump – Where, How and Why?

Inchcocks Bungee-Jump

There was a damsel I wanted to impress,
She was chunky, and I’d heard, easy to undress…
She loved a laugh and smiled at my stupidness…
But she admired men who showed fearlessness…
What could this whimp do with his faintheartedness?

I pondered, deciding on using fictitiousness!
Told her I was going bungee jumping, most unchivalrous,
Where? she asked – ‘Darley Dale on the bus…’
I’ll come to see you, she said. Oh, excessiveness!
Now to face my acrophobia… but not be loveless?

,

I got the motorbike mended, off to Darley Dale,
Picking up en route, the bonny lass, called Abigail,
I arrived at the festival and put on a swagger, to no avail…
From inside, my stomach churned; I must’ve looked pale…
I was putting myself through hell for a desirable female!

Nervous? Me? Yes, I could hardly breathe or inhale!
Searching for an excuse, I was feeling foolish and frail…
Yet I was laughing along with my beloved Abigail,
I looked up at the cherrypicker platform I’ve to scale,
Fear of heights and cowardice… will I die at Darley Dale?

I found a resolution by fearing being mocked should I fail…
Idea! Thump a Policeman, then they’d take me to jail?
But no, I must do this heroic act to impress Abigail!
If I live through this, fall in love, I’d tell the tale…
Or should I run away and search for the Holy Grail?

They booked my jump for about 1400hrs…
I sneaked away to the Pretty Flowers…
A quaint pub on the road to Alton Towers…
I drank three ciders and four pints of Guinness!
Enough surely to get me out of this?
I’ll never get up the ladder, being so pissed!

Walking back to the fair, when I was getting near…
The fresh air must have taken away my fear…
But it may have been something to do with the beer?
I started whistling and greeted the gang; I was feeling queer!
I cheerfully got into the bungee-jump helmet and gear!

.In the jumpers tent, all the others, some in over-leathers…
Nervously talking and bragging, being sick the others!
“Who’s first up?” most of them dithering and nervous!
I called, “Me first, captain!” The others finished their reefers…
Momentarily I thought, Did I take my beta-blockers?

Too late now, and I felt like a performer in a circus!
Abigail cheered me as I ascended,
I slipped on the ladder, hit my midriff and got winded,
Not enough for my bungee jump to be rescinded!
No stopping me now that I’d ascended…

I pressed on out to the platform… was this all a dwale?
Got out to the edge… shirt off, like a Chippendale…
Everyone from below could see I was a male!
The wind… suddenly blew a gale!
Down onto the ice-cream pole, my body did impale!

A Red Cross man arrived first. “Here, take this aspirin, cock!”
The whole thing was a shock and schlock!
And, I’d laddered my new knee-length bamboo right sock!
Why worry about that… it’s poppycock?
Mayhaps I’d gone into PTSD or shellshock?
The police arrived and arrested me for TWOC!

Inchcocks Make Folk Laugh in Ode Series 77⅘th

Inchcock Today: Belated Photographicalisations

Doreen’s Dementia ensured that I got mixed up about when each shot was taken, so I guessed as best I could. Sorry if any pictures have been repeated from earlier. I’m at a funny age, yer know? Hehe!

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

Sunday 10th April 2022

Midweek photographicalisations, of the sky, from the kitchenette. Well, I think they are anyway. They could be from earlier in the week or not, maybe. This one was taken close u to the window glass.

An early evening view? Possibly, an afternoon shot. But maybe not.

Whichever, it is beautiful to me. The clouds are so appealing; I love them… there’s a name for this, but I can’t fine where I wrote it down!

I seem to recall knocking over the knife block taking this one, which triggers a blurry memory; I may have posted this one already, Tsk! Assuredly an evening or early morning picture of the moon. Not a good one, but it was the best I could do at the time.

Ah, a decent one at last, of a midweek sunset, which is coming later now we have changed the clocks.

A midweek meal? Or thereabouts, methinks. I wonder if I ate it all? I recall the sausages having very tough skins for some reason. A much-belated taste rating: 6.5/10.

Now I can remember taking this one! Not when, though. I know I had an idea to use the two puffer clouds with CorelDraw to put two eyes over them. Thought it might be fun? Of course, not getting the photos to load put the mockers on that idea!

A late morning photograph this time. The sun coming up from the back of the flat complex casts a shadow over Chestnut Walk, the bottom field, and some households will lose their sunshine for a while.

Aha, I know these ones. This first one is the Iceland Foods delivery, which came while Car Richard was with me, on, erm… er… I’ll look at the Carer roster. Richards came on Mon, Tue, Wed and Thursday, so it’ll be one of those days. (See how quick I was there?) Hahaha!

♫ Food Glorious Food ♫ Selection of freezer and fridge fodder that had been delivered.

Getting the food away in the freezer was a work of art and took me an hour. Some of the things had to be emptied out of the packaging, or they would never have fitted in!

Each time I opened another cardboard box, it needed constant moving.

Jiggling fish fingers, fishcakes, iced lollies, everything more than once to get them all into the drawers!

Humph! What a farce. I’d forgotten all about this contrariety. Pity I actually remembered it when I saw the photographs. I was trying to rush to get the things n before they melted. I took bits of the flesh of my fingers in the rush…

Ah, that night’s meal. Fish fingers, fishcakes, buttered potatoes, yellow and red tomatoes, potato waffles, a banana and two lemon cakes. Haha! Not too bad, a nosh. Taste Rating: 8.8/10.

Evening photograph, judging from where the sun is, I’d guesstimate the time as around 19:00hrs. Puffer clouds were round again. What day or date it was shall remain a mystery.

Last night methinks, but it could have been from the opened kitchenette window any day.

When the carer left last night, I thought I’d watch an episode of Grimm. My cyber friends, Lisa and Bill from the US of A, told me it is well written. I’d not been able to sleep easily these last few nights anyway.

Got washed and settled, turned on the TV, and Zzz! Innit annoying!

Sunday Morning:

Took these pictures of the early morning view. About 05:30hrs.

Got Josies’ nosh on the cooker. Carer called, had a natter, I enjoyed that. Treats of her choice were handed in thanks.

Got the photo’s above to load on the computer. But many others were not recognised and seem to have disappeared into the ether altogether? I took eight more and tried again with the same result. Fed-up with this.