Tuesday 26th November 2019
Afrikaans: Dinsdag 26 November 2019
01:05hrs: Woke, and easy-up (Sounds like an American egg?), from the rickety recliner on my feet, caught my balance. Started to hobble to the wet room for the Porcelain Throne activities that were being demanded from the innards.
And collapsed in a heap, landing entangled with the walking stick and swivel chair! Swearing silently (I hope) I surprisingly got up rather quickly and easily, then had a visit from Dizzy Dennis, and sat back down in the grotty-beige coloured recliner. I stewed over what had just happened with myself. ‘Had I got up too swiftly?’ ‘What made me tumble in the first place?’ ‘How the hell did I get back up so quickly?’ ‘How come I had a welt on my chin and head, although I did not remember hitting anything on the way down?’ ‘I had a feel around the limbs and torso, but I found no injuries other than tiny unpainful marks on the face?’ Yet, I had a headache coming on rapidly, as the dizziness dissipated. But my investigations and musings were soon terminated, as the reminder of the need for the Throne gurgled!
I rose gently, and to my absolute delight, could not see any damage caused to the four-pronged walking stick, as I made my way, gingerly and cautiously, to the wet room. I must say, I was delighted with the evacuation (it’s sad when this happens, shows what sort of life I have, when one appreciates an evacuation, dunnit? Hehe!) There was no bleeding from front or rear. A bit messy again, but it’s been a lot worse. But very little pain, that was a pleasant change I appreciated. I cleaned things up and poddled to the kitchen, musing again on the odd start to the day, and the gloomy thoughts of the After-Stroke Physio came to mind, and my spirits dropped a notch or two at the prospect.
I had a peep outside through the unwanted, light & view-blocking kitchen window at the weather. It was raining, which didn’t exactly fill me with optimism for the walk to the physio session later.
I moved the handwashing onto the airers. Got the kettle on, took the medications, made a brew, and got on the computer to do yesterday’s blog updating. There was not a lot to do, so few pictures were taken while I was flat-bound and suffering the worst day I’d had for months! So, it was done in record time, despite the occasional bit of the autoimmune neuromuscular nerve failings giving the fingertips a few shakes and insensitive to touch moments.
I went on the WordPress Reader, some great stuff on there today, photographs and scripturally. Then posted a few shots to Pinterest. Then went of TFZer Facebooking.
Getting on, and have to get the ablutions done, then have a dig-around and search to find enough cash for the bus fare to town!
The ablutions went well. Only a couple of dropsies and shaving cuts. The search for some cash was successful, and I raised the £2.30 needed for the bus fare. It was in odds and ends, 1p, 2p, 5p, 10p and pound coins, but still. Of course, had xyrophobia-suffering, retired at 40 due to a lottery win and being left a fortune by an unknown relative, Brother-in-Law Pete, not stole all my valuables, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. (I still haven’t got them back yet six-months later), I’d have had the money for the bus fare!
I got myself wrapped up warmly, nibbles in the bag, and down and out of the flat, out of the Foyer with its new doors, out into the cold, wet murky morning and hobbled along Chestnut Walk. I took this shaky, distorted sad effort of 
the photograph on Chestnut Walk. Certainly not one of better shots. I got to the bus stop on Winchester Street Hill, my second photo caught a car speeding up the hill. He or she might have been late for work?
The bus driver gave me a rum-look when I dropped all the pennies and silver into the payment box. He kindly waiting until I was ensconced in the sidesaddle seat before he moved off. I worked on the crossword book en route, with varying success.
Getting ready for the others to get off at the Parliament Street stop, a lady held u the massive flow of people rushing off, pointed to me with the walker, said something I didn’t hear and allowed me to get off! That was sweet of her! I smiled and thanked her as I dismounted the bus. 
I took a snap as I hobbled along Upper Parliament Street, not many folks about. I wondered where all those had gone who had piled off the bus? Then, I saw a long queue at the ‘Boots Workbus’ stop.
I got into the Victoria Centre (Mall) and caught my reflection in a window – no wonder the lady assisted me, it shook me how pale and drawn I looked!
As I hobbled to the other end, on my way to the Tesco Store, I had few Dizzy Dennis visits, all short ones, but a good few of them. Things got worse in the store. I found myself suddenly in a different aisle, as if by magic, with sliced cobs in the basket? The blank spots were with me, I could not remember going in the bread section, let alone putting the cobs in the bag! This was not good. I seemed in and out of control, but no one was looking at me as far as I could tell, and I got to the checkout with the lady asking if I was feeling alright, and insisting after I’d paid, she put the things in the bag for me? Told me to take care!
I got a significant visit from Dizzy Dennis on the way out of the store. I stopped and pretended to sort my bags out while waiting for things to calm down. Which they did, but I still felt a little unsteady on the my feet. And why in heck I bought more cooking sauces and seaweed snacks, I’ll never know!
I slowly walked back the length of the centre, and out onto Parliament Street. I’m not sure what happened next. A lady and a Policeman or Security Guard were talking to me. Had I fell over? Had a tumble? Had they seen me stopping so often to catch my balance? Or was it just that I looked so sickly that they came to see if I was alright? I think I was saying, ‘Thank you, I’m fine’ an awful lot? It was going to be one of those in and out of it, memory-blanks days.
As I got outside, I felt a lot better in myself, also a lot wetter. Hehehe! I crossed the road and took this rare photograph of a not-filled-with-pedestrians Clumber Street. Of course, it was still early yet, no shoppers or shop-lifters around. McDonald’s was open with customers, mind!
I went into the Poundland Store, initially to try and get the lavender Dettol antiseptic disinfectant. I came out having to buy another bag to hang the stuff on, and came out with two bags hanging on the bars, and the trolley-walker bag all full! I’d bought 4 bottles of Dettol, biscuits, nuts, toilet blocks, and several nibbles for treats (I think).
Again, when I got outside, I began to feel a little easier, more in control of things, and my walking improved, no more Dennis Dennis for a while after this. I walked along to the crossing corner, and through Trinity Square up to Goldsmith Street.
I had a moment’s contemplation as I awaited the green walk sign. I thought that perhaps all the hassle and anguish of Monday might have caused this morning’s, erm… ‘unwellness’. The dizzies, absentmindedness. As for the paleness 
that scares folks, I’ll ask the nurse in the morning.
The lights changed and started to walk across the road, and a pavement slab was loose, as I trod on it, the dislodged stale rainwater shot up my trouser leg, and fell down into the shoe, giving the left foot a distinctive squelching sound afterwards.
Recollections of getting to and through the After-Stroke session are a bit confused. That is, up until just before the end, that bit is crystal-clear. The early parts, foggy. I know we had laugher, but also a few serious moments (I think). Form-filling? The last bit, we were all sat around tables with nibbles on them. Much laughter here and there. I think I regretted having to leave early, to catch the bus home.
Once out and on my way to the bus stop, things, well, memories seemed back to normal? I took these photographs near Queen Street.
On the bus, had a natter, moan and laughs with several ladies, I think we were taking the rise out of things and companies? At the flats, Helloed with Penny, Bill and someone else, and made my way out of the rain and into Winchester Court, and through their link passage into Winwood Court. There was an atmosphere in there, no people mind.
I took a photograph of the ILCs Holding Cell & Office as I passed, in the new Winwood Court lobby, near the lifts.
I carried on hobbling down the link passage into the mysteriousness of my beloved Woodthorpe Court, that lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination. Up in the lift, then the flat, with no living soul in sight.
The bones and limbs were beginning to ache a bit. I got the unneeded items I’d bought put away, well, on the side of the sink. I’ll make room for them in the cupboard later if I can.
Made a brew, and scribbled what I could remember down on the notepad to use in the morning’s blog doing. And had a quiet moment pondering on the day’s disasters. Monday’s was mental problems and confusion. Today’s the same (but to a far lesser extent) with health issues., memory loss and blanks, Dizzy Dennis moment and lack of self-control. That was as far as I got, Humph!
I got the ready-made boeuf bourguignon* & mash meal in the oven cooking. (*Try spelling that when you’ve never had any before, Haha!) Set the timer for 25 minutes, and made some caramelised gravy to add to the meal later. The timer buzzed, and I removed the plastic plate, took off the cover, added the juice and stirred it all up, and back in the oven for another 20 minutes, and set the alarm again.
I thought I’d put on the Kind Hearts and Coronets DVD. Wondering why the heck I had not watched it before, I recall enjoying the film at the pictures when it was released… a few years ago. He-he!
Set up, had a wee-wee, took the evening medications and served up the fodder. I was interested to see if I liked this boeuf bourguignon. Well, it was alright, but I’ll not bother with it again. A 6.5/10 Flavour Rating is the best I could give it. It was not my kettle of fish or type of meal. Too bland. Without the caramelised gravy added, it might have been uneatable. Nice mashed spuds, though.
I did what bit of washing up was needed, and left the handwashing, as I was now overtired, and the joints were all beginning to ache now. What the ‘eck did I do at the After-Stroke Physio session to feel like this? Ah, it could be that I did tumble over in the Vic Centre, then? Who knows? Certainly not me! You’ve just got to laugh yer see! Hehehe! I went off for a wee-wee! Another enigma this, why are the wee-wees so variable all the time? I only fleetingly considered this question, too weary to bother.
I settled to watch the Kind Hearts and Coronets DVD, in black & white of course. A quintessential British comedy as I remember. At the time I saw it at the Grove Cinema around 1955, I was let in, because amazingly, this comedy/farce about a multiple murdering Duke, was granted a ‘U’ certificate in 1949. Just I’d mention it.
Anyway, I found out why I had not watched the DVD before. It had no Subtitles! I did my best, but the sound was terrible, muffled, screeching, too bad to hear any words! A real shame, I was so looking forward to watching it! Humph!
I turned on the TV, convinced that if I find some banal rubbish to view (Not a hard thing to do), I’ll fall to sleep for sure. But no! The days Memory-blanks, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops replayed in my mind, over and over, and I ended up worrying myself to sleep. Hahaha!
Poor old sausage!
01:35hrs: I woke up, feeling instantly depressed at the thought of having to go to the After-Stroke Physio session, knowing how it always gets to me mentally, as well as physically. Then I pondered, have I got the right bus fare? Then it dawned on me; it’s Monday, not Tuesday! (I’m quick, you know. Tsk!) 
I moved the handwashing onto the airers. I kept jiggling them about to get it to dry better as the morning went on. 
The right arm, where I’d burnt it on the oven racks taking out Josie’s smoked haddock last night, began to itch, and I found it difficult not to keep scratching it. So I rubbed some Savlon cream on the little scars, this should ease off the itchiness! And it did, too! Any more medical help or advice you need, just call me! Hahaha! 
Off to the wet room for a wee-wee. And what a wee-wee it was! Of the MES (Marathon-Endless-Sprinkling) variety. I thought it must be time for dinner when it finally ended! It must have taken several minutes to trickle its way to a final conclusion. I think that maybe, had I used a receptacle to relieve things in, a teacup might have been too big! The pain, as well. Blimey! 
I got in and stripped off for the cleaning session, and boy oh boy, were the plates (feet) colourless! They were whiter and paler than I have ever seen them before! I could be dead here, and no one has bothered to tell me about it, you know. Hahaha! 
In the lift lobby, it looked as if the Mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination, had been busy again? Haha!
I explained my problems, starting with the Pegasus form to be filled in, and the silly bit of paper with the return address on, in need of guidance on how it supposedly works. Oberstúrmbannfhreress Warden Deana (Just a cognomen), knuckled down and helped out straight away. She filled in the form from details held on the Nottingham City Homes computer record for me. Then supplied a safer envelope for me to use for posting back to the Nottingham Police Headquarters. Thanks, Deana!
I made my way back to the flat, taking a snap of the windblown al-fresco seating area in the drizzle. I noticed that the door was ajar. I pressed the green open button, and a chap came along to tell that I must not push or force the door! I explained to him that I did have to if I wanted to get outside! He repeated that it was a fire door – I pointed out that it is not like the doors in the new Winwood Court, that is how come there, is a green button to press, it does not open automatically, you have to push the door! That is what I have been told. He was not impressed; he just repeated that I must not force the door, tutted and went off in a huff! Humph! I don’t know who he was.
!
I was now in a state of utter confusionableitis! 
Hello, a noise from the door again, I’ll investigate. Fancy that, a load of junk mail had been delivered for me to enjoy! Well, that cheered me up no-end that did! A good job I live on my own, for the mutterings coming from under my breath, that was not to be repeated in any civilised company! The Houses of Commons, perhaps? 
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung. Got into the night-attire, and once the meal cooked and served up, tucked into it! 
01:05hrs: I woke, and lay there with uhtceare-ridden fears, worries, and neurasthenia rampant in the turmoil of mentally-handicapping thoughts, ideas, and frustrations blasting away in my mind. A definite reluctance to galvanise my body by getting up and a desire to stay hibernating in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner lingered. Despite my having already enjoyed about five-hours of kip? 
Off to the kitchen, it was still raining outside. I took the morning medications, jiggled the handwashing on the airers, and made a fine-strong mug of Thompson tea. 
By gum, that went well! No toothbrush cuts or shaving cuts. No Sock-Glide struggle (I didn’t put any socks on!), a few dropsies, but you can’t have everything! Got dressed, and made sure the oven was heated up for Josie’s smoked haddock later and put the SoulFood veg chilli in the saucepan ready for warming up.
I found some mail had been delivered. One was bumpf, the other from the CityCare Medicine Team. They have made an appointment to come ad see me on Thursday 28th November, at the same time as my podiatrist’s appointment at the Sherwood Health Centre Clinic! Am I lucky or what? Now I have got to bother someone who will not want worrying, to ring them for me to see if it can be changed! Grumph! 
I managed with little effort, to burn my arm on the rack as I was taking out the smoked haddock from the oven. 
Back to the flat. I got the cooking things cleaned up. I did a little more TFZer Facebooking and then started to make my own nosh. Which was far less complicated, and needed only one saucepan and one dish to serve the vegetable chilli in. I added two of the mint choc-cakes for afters and a carton of fresh orange juice.
Unfortunately, when I’d cleaned the saucepan and cutlery used and settled into the second-hand, c1968 recliner to dine, the chilli-fodder was just too hot for me to handle and cope with! I’d had this ready-made meal a few times before, and it was perfect for me then, not too hot. And, I’d added some black bean sauce and sliced tomatoes, just the same as previous times, but the first spoonful was like a flame going down the throat! Eurgh! Never again will try this, too dangerous! I think if I had eaten it, I would have been poorly, in a bad way. 
The little skips I had to occasionally incorporate into my so-called ambulatory actions, to avoid banging into the four-pronged walking stick and tripping myself over, really was hilarious. Even when as I left the room, and a little kick-out knocked the corner display, stubbed the toe, and sent stuff tumbling to the floor – but the need for the Throne, left no time for checking on things! 
I got into the room and whipped down the jammies and PPs, again, so timely, well, just in time! I’m getting good at this! It was another of those unbelievably nervous-making, worrying ‘Will the system cope with i
I went to check on things at the front door, something told me to, the EQ I suppose. I found a begging circular that was for the previous tenant Margaret, and a leaflet; ‘Do you want to be alone on Christmas Day?’ Well, I worked for 20 years alone on Christmas Day, well, night, in Security. Now I’ve spent the last eight years worth of Christmas Days on my own, not seeing a soul. So, I’m well used to it by now. Nice thought though, thanks to the ‘Festive Loneliness is Real’ team. As for getting to Bestwood to collect a free meal, with no buses running, I could walk it in about two/three hours, I suppose; if I did need a festive meal? Getting it back home with it would be a little speculative. Hehehe! 
I made another brew, and took the medications to the computer desk, and started it up. (The computer, not the counter!)
I buttered some milk roll bread and got the cooked beef off-cuts. Beetroot, pork pie, tomatoes, apple and mini swiss rolls on the tray. Ensconced myself in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner. The one that bullying xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. He fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. (I still haven’t got them back yet six-months later)
01:05hrs: As I stirred into a pretend life, the mind was starting to go off on one of its fear-storms; Luckily the need for a Porcelain Throne visit saved the day, and the brain was diverted to the urgent need of getting out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner! This morning, my freeing of the gargantuanly-flobby body and onto the feet, was probably on a par with sorting out Brexit! I’ll not go into the embarrassing reasons, but it took me the best part of half-an-hour to get to the wet room – by which time I was too late! 
I went to make another brew and took three photos out of the new, mostly unwanted, unliked, thick-famed, light & View blocking kitchen window. I took each one in different settings: Night Landscape, Aperture Priority and Landscape. 
I pulled myself away from the gloomy thoughts and poddled out to the bus stop. Aha! There was Mary, with Penny, Dot and Malcolm. 
grumps. Hehehe! Penny looked twinkling eyed. Mary was in good form and well. 
So, I went back down the alleyway and went into the Asda (Walmart) store. To have a meander around while waiting for the next bus, from Front Street, that will take me back to the Mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court, that lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the spacetime continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! 
It was a struggle to get around with so many customers, it is a Friday, so I suppose I should have expected it. I ended up at the self-serve-tills with, beetroot, fresh vine tomatoes, Milk Roll loaf, Sliced Wholemeal cobs, Potato cakes, and some mini swiss rolls. I paid-up, bagged the goods, and out to the bus stop on Front Street. 
I got the kettle on, then unloaded the Asda (Walmart) and Fulton Foods. Realising I had forgotten to get the toilet cistern cleaner blocks. Well, fancy that, me, forgetting something! Haha! 
Then got the meal served up, settled in the £300 second-hand recliner, and began the unfortunately very unpleasant task of eating the plate of evening fodder. Although it did look good, a few ingredients let me down tastewise and by my bad cooking! The gammon steaks were not my cup of tea at all, far too sweet! The worst of my errors was cooking the potato cakes with the gammon, the sweet fat soaked into the cakes, and they were uneatably sweet, too! Eurgh! The tomatoes were so tasteless! The frank’s, apple, beetroot and mini rolls were all fine. I had a couple of the wholemeal cobs as well. Flavour-Rating: 3/10. 
I put another old DVD on to watch. Liam Neeson in ‘Taken’. I thought that a goodie-winning film might cheer me up a bit. I tried several times to take a picture of the box, but the nerve-ends were still playing up, and this was the best of the five efforts I tried, and not a good one. Huh!
01:40hrs: I semi-woke up, with the mind-blasting away, fretting over yesterday’s Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas, the failure of medics to arrive (Did I get the dates wrong, will they come at all? What to do about it?) Generally, I was in a sad, pitiably pathetic feeling-sorry for myself phase! Which turned into a grumbling, moaning, acceptance of my inabilities to cope with failures, cock-ups, and disappointments. As the fermenting bubbled away in the brain, without the slightest nor inkling of my finding any solutions, the need for a wee-wee arrived to distract me. (And a good job, too!) Off to the wet room. 
Off the L9 and walked down Queen Street into the Nottingham’s Slab Square. It was a right mishmash again. Temporary overpriced stalls, eateries, rides scattered messily around everywhere. With the ice-rink in the centre somewhere. I could not get in to photograph it on Tuesday, but I found a way in without steps today! I got nestles in a corner of the rink-side for support, and had to take the photos through the side glass, as I could not use the camera with arms outstretched and keep it steady enough. Here are the best shots I could manage. Being the lucky person I am, as I positioned myself for photographicalisationing, a hooter went, and nearly all the skaters disappeared!
I hobbled from the Slb Square, and got to the Poundland Shop, on Wheeler Gate. Where I commenced on an overspending spree… again! But, I did get the batteries, too many maybe? Some Duracell AA for the radio (2x£1.50). And a big pack of 30 Kodak AA batteries for £2! 
right too! I thanked the gal, but she was too busy to hear me, I think.
earlier, and for a coffee meeting I think. I said Hello to Obergruppenfureress Deana as I passed her and got no reply, she did look busy, bless her. 
Made a salad of sorts. Seaweed, apple, cooked beetroot and the chicken slices and tomato sarnies. Enjoyable nosh that was. A flavour rating of 8.5/10! 
Anyroad, I soon had something else to fret over. I escaped the warming clutches of the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner, grabbed the stick, swore silently at Arthur Itis’s knees, and limped ASAP to the wet room. I felt the blood on my fingers as I prepared things, so stood for the session above the porcelain bowl, trying to limit the spray. The wee-wee was blood-free (Phew!), but a few drips from the fungal lesion kept my attention. Only an RBPDD (Reluctant-But-Painless-Drip-Drip) mode. 
That was until I started to exit the wet room. I managed without any bother to give the toe a really first-class, toe-stubbing against the metal leg of the shower chair! I stemmed the natural verbal outburst, worrying about the neighbours and any noise. I made do with (I thought at the time) a heroically restrained, stifled, low-muffled sort of ‘Eragherruffhooagh!’ Hehehe! Then getting in a position to put Phorpain Gel on the toe, kicked Arthur Itis’s pain up to Defcon Two level. Grumph! And to think, a while ago all I was concerned with was the complexed brain-storm. It doesn’t matter so much now! Although the confusion in the head lingers on now. Tsk!
Had a wash and did the teggies, keeping the door open all the time, in case the intercom went off. It’s getting dark a bit quick now, so I should see it when it lights up. That’s if it doesn’t break down again, of course. Grumph! I did a peek at the legs, got a couple more veins bulging and a new whatever it is (Glopidogrel?) above the left knee. Well, it makes a bit of interest dunnit! 
I took a snap of the red sky from the unwanted, unliked, unpopular, light & view-blocking, can’t get to clean nor look down to the roadway for ay emergency vehicles cause I can’t hear the fire-alarm, thick-framed new cleverly designed kitchen windows. 
being done up over the way. I was amazed at how light it came out, but I’m not complaining about it. The lads will have to pack-up working outside soon. A bit like Pete did when he won the lottery and had a fortune left him by an unknown relative. Still, he says he misses the few years when he was actually working for a living. Not that I’m jealous or anything, just surprised he had to steal my valuables while I was in the hospital after the stroke. Hehehe!
I do recall feeling sad and frustrated, that things beyond my control, and beyond my powers to solve or prevent, had happened. Perhaps this is meant to be? In my last existence, if I had one, I must have been a right ‘#-*%Zµ⊗]’d! Perhaps, it’s a way of easing departing the earthly life, as it gets less and less appealing? Well, it’s working!
00:05hrs: I woke, with instant lachrymose thoughts of having to go to the physio torture-session this morning! 
I moved the handwashing onto the airers, and made a brew, and took the medications.
can of pork and ham, and orange biscuits. 
Now I know what the building works were last week. Erecting another booze-den for Christmas. With bars, restaurants and pubs closing down all over the place, I think we could have done without this Danish delight of a Lager-Shed? The prices being asked might be keeping away Nottinghamian’s, though. 
There was a Canadian Foodshed there as well. I thought of Chris, TFZ treasure Pattie and Andy in Canada. I must get some shots of the food on offer next time I go into town, to show the TFZers. This cabin had only just opened by the look of it. They do not have much room to work in. I detected no smells?
I got to the first Asian shop on Heahtcoat Street, called ‘Asian Mart’, and was lucky enough to find a similar product after asking an assistant and showing him the wrapper. Then I went down Hockley to the Asian Express store and asked an assistant there, but got a definite no, with a shaking of her head. 
I made my way back to Nottingham’s Slab Square, down Victoria Street. A grim baron place at the best of times. Although they tell me it comes to life at night with the binge-alcoholics, druggies, and the dance-shakers out and about.
At the bottom of the road, I took a snap to the left, down along Bridlesmith Gate. Another so sad place. Since they closed down the Broad Marsh Shopping centre for the redevelopment of the mall, bus station and car parks, so many businesses have gone bust on this road. Sob! 
The Helter-Skelter, still have to find anyone using. I’ll be surprised if they try coming back again next year. Well, I will be if I’m still here. Hehe! 
I almost went for a wee-wee, until 
I realised I didn’t need one. Hahaha! I got the purchases stored away, the pressies and nibbles too. The tomatoes were Spanish, so they went in the fridge. Which I would never normally do, but these are so 
tasteless to start with, it won’t matter. I didn’t realise they were from Spain, or I would not have bothered getting them.
The usual afternoon weariness and fatigue arrived, later than usual for once. I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung. Nice phrase that! Haha! 
I settled down in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working recliner. The one that my Xyrophobia-suffering, crooked Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-robbing, when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took, (I still haven’t got them back yet five-months later), rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty recliner. And masticated and swallowed everything edible on the plate, plus the evening medications! Taste-Rating: 8/10.