Saturday 7th September 2019
Hebrew: שבת 7 בספטמבר 2019
02:45hrs: I stirred awake, shivering with cold, and forced myself to evacuate the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged while he was flat-sitting, when I was in hospital, as he fitted new CCTC cameras, and searched for my valuables, which he found and took, I still haven’t got them back yet four-months later, £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, and get the dressing gown on my goose-pimpled gross body. Brr!
Taking a wee-wee in the unused overnight GPB (Grey-Plastic-Bucket). Which caught me out with its USBUWSS (Ultra-Slow-But-Uncontrollable-Weak-Sprinkly) nature! Also, my whipping down the PPs without thinking, and the dried blood from Little Inchies leaking fungal lesion got torn off, and the blood flowed afresh! (I believe a silently cursed, using language that I usually wouldn’t have, with the shock of the pain!)
While cleansing things and tidying up, I had a moment of… what’re the words, erm, err… ‘Feeling a bit sorry for missen’ I suppose! This was not good. But all the things going wrong, and carrying on from last night, just got a bit much for me, I reckon. I decided the therapy I needed was to get some work done. So I decided to sort things out, and then get the kitchen windows cleaned as best I could. So, off to the kitchen.
Got the handwashing I’d left soaking overnight, rinsed and refreshed with the ylang scented Wilko stuff. I needed a new bottle, so I hobbled (painfully, the RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis) was still giving me grief), to the junk room mark two, to fetch a new bottle.
Clouting my elbow on the door handle on the way back, and dropping the container, which landed on my right foot. At least it didn’t burst open! I got the clobber on the stand-up airer. Had a wee-wee of the freakish BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) mode.
When it came to taking the morning medication, it came to light that I had missed taking last night’s! So, the getting to usual lately performance of trying to identify which were the tablets to not duplicate was done, and both doses were imbibed.
I set about getting the things out to do the windows with and had to divert to the wet room and the Throne. Under-‘rotten’-believable! What an evacuation. Right back to the solid, flesh-tearing, wait-for-it, mode! Argh! My spirit and determination were wavering now!
Back to the kitchen, took a picture of the wonderful sky.
Then moved the gear away, and got the spray and kitchen towels nearby. Up the stepladder… then fell off of it, backwards! No idea why, but I didn’t have a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance from the leg? As I was struggling to get back up, so I could nurse my head, that I’d banged on the way down, I thought: What can I do? The chap who Jenny got in touch with said he was coming to see me about cleaning the windows last Saturday, but did not arrive. Maybe he meant another Saturday, and I got it wrong again. I came out of the Accifauxpas in remarkably good condition really. A little bang on the arm and the clout on the head was all I suffered. But the body was aching a bit in places.
Mind you, the nut was throbbing away!
I checked out the legs for ant damage, and to my utter amazement, apart from a tiny bit of a mark on my right ankle, they looked just fine?
I began to question my ability to live a normal life.
I left the mess in the kitchen after making a brew, (I really wasn’t interested in doing anything in the cleaning up stakes, now) and in a morose frame of mind, I got the computer on to update the Friday blog.
On selecting the photographs to go on, I put the wrong one for the nosh on the post. This is the one that should have gone on! Fancy me making a mistake. Humph!
A confirmation email from Amazon arrived, to inform me that the two tomatoe slicers I’d ordered were due to be delivered this Sunday. How I managed to order two, I just don’t know. But, thinking about it, I am surely assured that I will either lose one or break one, so it might yet prove to be a good idea? Oy Vey!
Anything to avoid any more cuts. Especially with the Sherrington Park Medical Practise, currently impossible to contact, I tried nineteen times on the phone this week to contact them, fifteen times in one day! And leaving me in a right state over their lack of interest in my Warfarin INR levels, or arranging any test! The last time I heard from them, by email, they wanted to know if I still wanted a nurse to call to take the blood; if so, they will arrange for it. I sent a reply message saying yes please and thank you. That was three weeks ago. Now I can’t even get to ask them why no nurse arrived, and I do not know the level or how many Warfarin tablets to take! Warden Deana was busy with the opening of the Winwood Court and burying of the time capsule (Last Monday). So, no help there. I still do not know if or when the next test is due after the missed one! Am I so hated? Why are they ignoring me? Have I too many issues and ailments for them? Why am I asking these questions?
Anyway, with so many surgeries shut down through not coming up to scratch, I imagine they are getting an influx of new patients. Which will probably result in the Grim Reaper taking me earlier than I would have liked, but who is interested? I’m not coping well at all with the hassle and lack of concern. Let him come!
I pressed on and got the Friday post finished. The hands and fingertips are not so bothersome at the moment. The head still aches, Hehe!
Made a start on this blog, and then stopped to get the ablutions sorted out. Just in case the window cleaner man might call. Mmm?
Things must be improving, the shave, teggies and shower session, held only two dropsies!
Gave up. Decided to go to Sherwood to see if any of the shops had any shortcrust cakes in stock.
I got the trolley and myself all ready, forgetting to take the black bags I made up in the kitchen and left, to find the three-flats foyer in darkness. The new light put in by the same electricians who cut my power for nine-hours, when putting in the Fire-Alarm sprinkler system I’ve little confidence in them working!) Not the NCH men who gave me the floods and destroyed my clothing in the airing cupboard, that people are even less interested in than my Doctor is in missing my Warfarin blood tests. They probably don’t even know it’s happened. I can’t get through on the phone to them. Oh, I’m getting niggly again!
I wobbled through the cut-through passage to Winwood Court.
I checked to see if the broken locking mechanism had been mended yet, on the door out to the alfresco benches. No!
I got outside via the new Winwood Court Extra Care foyer door and made my way to the bus stop.
I made the queue into three of us. It soon grew to about twelve of us. I enjoyed a nattering session. Despite my struggling to hear everything, as I had failed to put my hearing aids in. Malcolm told me how to get up to the rooftop seating on top of Winwood Court. There is a dedicated lift up and down! I thought I’d see how I was when I came back if well enough I might have a nip up take some photos?
I thought about going on the outward-bound L9, in search of the flaky pastry biscuits. When the first bus arrived, without even thinking, I got on, to find it was the inward bound bus! Surprisingly this did not seem to bother me. I just thought I’d go to the Aldi store then, on Mapperley tops. I got off and took a photo to the left then right. And a zoomed-in one of my new destination.
I came out with, a BLT sarnie, rice-cakes, caramel bars for the nibble box. Sourdough baguettes, walnut halves, ham off-cuts and eight kitchen rolls. The kitchen paper was bought cause it was on offer. Carrying it home caused a bit of a kerfuffle, as it filled the spare carrier. In fact, the young man on the till packed the rolls into the carrier-bag for me. That was kind of him!
The highlight of my mini-hobble home came as I got on the main road. A pavement cyclist also leaving the store stacked all his purchases in a carrier bag, on his little bar at the back of his bike’s seat, and rode within inches of me as he passed. A hundred yards or so further along Mapperley Top, his things fell off! It made a right mess for him to sort-out. In the end, he had to walk pushing his bike. 
There is a God!
Somewhat perked-up, now, I wobbled on and down Mapperley Rise. Where I took this photographicalisation. Regrettably, it came out looking nothing like how the eye saw the distant parts of the scene! Shame!
Limping down the hill, turned out to be little more arduous than I wanted. The three-wheeler really doesn’t like going downhill on uneven ground. And the pavement got worse, more irregular dips, rise’s and pot-marks, the further I travelled. There was a couple of near-trips and falls en route, but I managed to stay on my now, painful feet. The brakes are not very useful on this trolley.
When I reached the corner of Sherwood Vale, where I had to cross over, the road surface is as bad as they come. My closest call to a fall happened here. I did go down on one knee which pissed-off RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis)! But no injuries 
really. As I was trying to get up, a bloke who’d stopped his came over and asked if I was alright. Another humanitarian gesture! I thanked him and said I was fine, thank you.
I took this picture as I walked down to Chestnut Way and the Winwood Heights barren looking person-less area.
The planning as not be thought out too well. To avoid all the high pavements safely, would mean going onto the road all the time and back again.
As I neared the Gulag, I mean, flats, I decided I would have a walk up to the Extra Care Winwood Court sitting-out area, now Malcolm has told me how to get up there. They have a games room, with a sink, power-sockets, seats and tables, and a kitchen as well. I got in the one-stop lift, and a lady in there, sat at a table, gave me rum-look and said something, but couldn’t hear what she said.
I went out onto the terrace-top. There were no chairs as you will in the photos that I took ad-lib:
Inside of Winwood Courts dedicated lift, on my way back down. I didn’t see anyone at all on the walk home through the linking-passage to Woodthorpe Court.
I stopped for a while, something was not right. What was it? Ah, the silence! No banging from the flat above, no laughter, no fridge rattling away, no mystery whining sounds, no wind 
blowing through the holes in the wall and floor, courtesy of the builders and repairmen… still, you can’t expect it sound just like inside your Woodthorpe Court flat, can you?
And of course, it’s the weekend, many people going to see their families or being collected, that’s another reason for the lack of Winwoodonians about.
I got in the apartment. No wee-weeing, no Porcelain Throne requirements, no new ailments acquired. Apart from a little bruise on the head still there from my falling off the stepladder earlier, and an even smaller injury-come-graze, on the knee, from the mini-fall on the road.
I got the fodder stored away.
I got on with updating this blog, for hours, but the finger-ends were making it slow work. Eventually, the CIDP won, and I gave up working on the computer.
I got the nosh prepared. The oven in the chips… now there’s a cock-up! I meant, Chips in the oven, and got the tomatoes sliced. Sliced the finger as well! Not really, just a knick under a fingernail again.
So, there I was, limping around in the nude prepping the meal, and the Intercom light flashed (I couldn’t hear the pathetically week chiming it is supposed to give out). When I pressed the answer button, the picture of the caller, disappeared, and the picture screen came up ‘Picture Fault’. I pressed the door open button, but I was not sure if it had done so or not. Pushed the reset button, then the answer button, and got the picture back. No one in view. I assumed they had been let in by someone.
I got the dressing gown on sharpish, and the door chime rang out. Guess who it was? It was the tomato slicer delivery from Amazon, that was due to arrive on Sunday. I thanked the lady and took the box into the kitchen and had a look at the slicer.
A shame it didn’t come half-an-hour earlier, it would have saved me losing the blood. Hehe! I just had to try it out. So I cleaned it, and sliced another tomato with it, and added it to the plate. Works alright, I have to be wary when cleaning the fixed blades.
I got the handwashing done and hung.
Then sorted the meal out. I overdid the quantities, and could not eat it all, but what I did eat was flavoursome, a taste-rating of 7.5/10.
Got the washing-up done, and settled to watch some TV. Staying awake to see the England v 
Bulgaria Euro qualifying match. When I say stayed awake, I mean mostly. Half-time I drifted off.But came back to life when the match restarted.
At long last, the RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis) was easing in the knees. It should just about have got to a bearable pain level, in time for Tuesday, and the next crippling, blood-curling, agony-ridden, depressing, After-Stroke physio session! Haha!
It was of the CMOUSTSTBO (catching-me-out-unwilling-slow-to-start-then-blasting-out) mode! I cleaned up the back-splashed spray from the floor, sink, cupboard door, and then from myself. 
However, the slipper mystery developed somewhat. After another ferret-around for the missing one, I now have three odd slippers? Ah, the Mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court, continue! 
As Sister Jane commanded, I mean suggested, I made my way to and through the slab square to try the Lakeland store for a slicer. 
I walked back through the unkempt city centre, where the workers were dismantling the amusements, ready for the next money-making scheme, a foods of the world theme thing I think. 
ad to battle falling asleep for most of the journey, but failed and did just before the bus arrived at the flats. Klutz! 
I walked back through the connecting-passageway. Not a soul in sight. 
I got the nosh sorted. Even as I got down to tuck into the fodder, the knees and back were in a painful condition. Poor old sausage! Haha! 
Back down again in the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged £300, second-hand, gungy-beige coloured, recidivating and rotting-away recliner, and put the goggle-box on to watch a Rumpole of the Bailey on Freeview channel 48.
00:25hrs: I woke, with some of my joints, bones, tendons, etc. not hurting. (There must have one somewhere on my overgrown hulk of body mass, not in agony, surely? Haha!) The moment I tried to move, Arthur Itis let me know, in no uncertain terms, of his reluctance to move without causing me more than flesh and blood can stand, excruciating torture! I applied a generous dose of the Phor-Pan gel, thought of getting up but fell asleep again. Unwonted, in the extreme for me!
The handwashing hanging up to dry was no longer hanging up! It had fallen into the water-filled bowl beneath! I cursed silently and got it rang put again, and re-hung. But I mustn’t kvetch. Not after the last two days worth of utter depressionalisationing, Whoopsidangleplops. Accifauxpas and failures, this is nothing! Humph! 
On to the balcony to take a shot through the glass, of the morning weather. 
Mary had bought herself a new three-wheeled trolley from Argos. She’d bought some clips that she can hang a brolly and so forth on. A good looking one, with a bag and wire carrier as well, it cost her £59. Big wheels, which looked nice and stable. She nattered while we were en route, and in town, we both went into the Poundland Store, for her to show me where the handy looking lever-hooks were to be got from. But they had not any in stock today. Mary insisted that I have two of her’s, she would not allow me to refuse. Bless her. I bought two bags of Sherbert Saucers. 
With an aching body and painful knees, I had an amble to Huntington Street, to call in the Aldi store. 
I got some Leicester grated cheese for the cheesy potatoes of Josie and me on Sunday, and a jar of beetroot and gherkins Which were so leathery and bland, even I considered returning them with a complaint. 
We had a moan and laugh as we walked through the link-passage. We tested the door opening on the exit door to the alfresco seating. 
Then started the meal. A cold imitation salad of sorts. Chicken thigh, sliced Worcester apple (Very tangy!), rice & corn pats, gherkins (the Tesco ones, that were horrible to the palate), cooked beetroot, and Milk Roll buttered tomato sarnies. A mini-bottle of orange juice added. 
The sky from the kitchen window looked almost ominous of a storm brewing. 
I carefully took the medications, and the summoning call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. And boy what a change in style this session turned out to be! It looked like chilli-con-carnie! The blood flowed, and medicationalising and cleaning took a while. As I dismounted the Throne, blood was trickling down from the PPs onto the thighs. Oh, dearie me! The damned Little Inchy, was also pouring blood! The fungal lesion had opened up again. First time for many a month. This meant more time lost, in having to treat it and stop the flow. Humph! 
Cleaned and medicated things, the pins were looking alright. They seemed a bit more colour in them, and they were skinnier in appearance, I think.
I got the post all done and sent off.
07:00hrs: I’ll be back later to update things, but when, I’m not sure. 
I took the black bags to the waste chute, then got in the elevator. It smelt of cigarette smoke, with a lingering aroma of stale ale. Hehe! Someone been on a night out? I’m not jealous, of course! 
I made my way through the new linking-passage into Winwood Court. The brand-new unused yet, door mechanism out to the benches, was still not working. 
As I passed the top of Winchester Street, I noticed the rusty white Mercedes van, that the garage man told Jenny, was owned by one of the Winwood Heights tenants, had responded to Jenny’s request, and was now parking on the opposite side of the road. So, now I do not have to walk on the roadway to get the three-wheeler through when going into Sherwood. Thank you, Jenny ♥ 
I struggled to get up the hill on Mapperley Rise. (A continuation of Winchester Street hill, the steepest part of it). 
I was ambling along, in a semi-contented, partly-absent-minded dream world, and I thought I heard the Little Johns dongs. This made me look at my bargain, charity shop bought for £2 wristwatch. (The one with the £10 trap and new £11 battery, Haha!) 
escapades, and his New Zealand, Australasian holiday and a lady responded. A line of cars was outside to pick many of the patients up, others went to the car park, one lady to her giant Mercedes. I wobbled off into town with my trustless three-wheeled Guide trolley. I had to smile!
Despite everything, I seemed to enjoy the session? Am I a Sadisism-Sufferer? Or, should that be a masochist?
I hobbled down Market Street, where this Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist was merrily plodding up the hill, and in the Slab Square. 
the square on my way to the Poundland shop on Wheeler Gate. 
I was really in pain then, with the knees and feet. I took a picture of the Debenhams, that used to be Griffith & Spalding, because we are likely to see this closing soon, too! Reading of the troubles and decline of yet another big name store is so sad.
I bade Shirley a farewell with a smile, got out of the lift and into the flat. 
Took the medications, and got the meal prepared. I was too tired and worn out to make anything from scratch. So I got a large can of chilli-con-carni, added some brewed malt vinegar, and stirred it all the time almost, to stop it burning the new saucepan again this time. Tsk! 
01:20hrs: Awoken by I know not what, but I felt it must have been a noise of some kind. I had no alternative, but to escape the clutches of the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged while he was flat sitting, fitting new CCTC cameras, and searching for my valuables (He found and took them too!), £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige recliner, and investigate the source of the noise. Back-Pain Betty was stiff, aching persistently and yet stinging at any touch? As soon as I moved my endomorphic, paunchy body, she started-off! The rear-bottom area was very sore and tender? Arthur Itis was in a bad mood, too! Not a good start to the day!
The call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, suddenly and urgently. Off to the wet room. The 
I went to investigate. And Glory be and hallelujah! The result sheet was on top of some empty jars on the radiator! 
I was somewhat rather pleased with myself, to the point of smugness. When I decided to use the scissors to cut open letter. Tim Price had suggested I keep the scissors in the knife block, cause I do keep losing them. Straight to the box, and got the cutters. 
A packet of cheese curls, two mini cakes, and a mug of tea seemed like a fair enough choice. So, that’s what I had. 
The got the ablutions were then tackled. I’m afraid with the fingers having a little sensation of touch or contact at the moment, meant I dropped more stuff than ever during this morning’s wash-shave & showering, and afterwards too! I think this list from memory is about right: Toothbrush x3, Toothpaste x1, Olive oil squirt bottle x1, Aftershave bottle x1, Flannel x2, Soap x2, Showerhead x1, Body spray x1, Sock-Glide x1, Socks x5 (using the gripper, or trying to), and, the Pro-Pain gel tube x2. During the Porcelain Throne session: The toilet roll x2, Toilet cleaner bottle and bleach bottle x1 each and the nasal Spray x2. Tsk! A record number, I reckon.
I walked along the front of the flats to the bus stop. Gawd, it was a cold wind, and without a hat on! Klutz! 
Had a drink of spring water, a wee-wee. Went on YouTube, and noticed the Tim Price owns property in Nottingham, in Goosegate! 
To remind me of my depression and frustration with life, even the sky looked gloomy! 
Rattily, I gave up after a short while. And got some fodder organised, just chips, the last of the bacon, and the last tomatoes, thrown on a plate, with the last few slices of Milk Roll bread and some beetroot, Josie’s donated to me lemon dessert, and some bacon flavoured Asda (Walmart) chips. As annoyed and angst as I was with things, I enjoyed this meal. A flavour rating of 9/10! 
Washed the pots, and retook another snap of the sky. It still looked threatening. 
03:15hrs. When the brain had gained some equilibrium and logicality, I realised I had been asleep for six, that’s Six Hours! The longest I can remember for years! My first thought was, well I must have needed it! But then I corrected myself – Naughty Inchcock! And simply appreciated getting it for whatever the reason. There you, I can be positive as well as negative, nervous and niggardly. Hehe! No signs of any nocturnal nibbling and the spring water bottle had not even been opened! This should tell me something, but the only message I got from the EQ, was ‘keep calm’ whatever will happen, will. You won’t like it!’ Fine that, even the EQ is toying with me now! 
I then stubbed the right foot’s toes against the doorstop… and felt hardly anything! In fact, the only bit of pain came from the ankle! I tested the finger-ends when I got in the kitchen, and they were in the same resistant to acknowledge any contact with anything substantial or hard. I was almost sure this was what the EQ was warning me of. It wasn’t as it happens, but more about that later. I knew that doing any artwork or typing was going to be a pain in the neck!
ollowing wee-wee lasted for that long, I got the crossword book in action. An ERLRWS (Extremely-Resistant-Long-Reluctant-Weak-Sprinkly) fashion. I’m not sure that much escaped, but what drops did, took an inordinately unreasonably long time. 
orting a big problem out. She was terrific about my rushing things along in our nattering session, bless her. 
Got the meal prepped. Not too bad an effort, considering the change of plans from excessively burnt cheesy potatoes, to chips. Hehe!
I had to go to the Porcelain Throne. 
Feeling a tad betterer, I got the potatoes in the saucepan salted and vinegared and got the last of the pod peas, the last of the season perhaps podded, and in the crock-pot with a little demerara sugar and balsamic vinegar flavouring. 
While searching the web for the fresh-pod pea season months, I came across this recipe for pod peas. Interesting, but maybe not for me, methinks. Sister Jane might fancy it, though? Her early years living in Sicily, seem to have left her with a desire and craving for anything pasta, oily and rice. Her mushroom Risotto is really special, scrumptious! She made one for me in 1969, I can still taste it! Hehe!
The fodder was fine, all bar the podded peas. They had been in the crock-pot for over eight hours, and were not cooked anywhere near enough! Grumble-Moan! I suppose it is because they are at their seasons-end? The tomato sarnies in the Milk Roll bread were fine, as were the chips, beetroot and mini-pork-pie. The apple was a disappointment, soft, almost crumbly. I’m considering writing a letter of complaint to the Chilean Agricultural Department. Hehe! Most unpleasant! So, the best overall flavour-rating I can give is 4/10 overall. And the sarnies, chips and beetroot saved the day score-wise. What am I waffling on about, here? Tsk! 
The moment my legs bared the mass of weight of me, Arthur Itis was there again, giving me painful grief! Dizzy Dennis paid a short visit. Then Anne Gyna threw in her penneth of throbbing and stinging, to the melee of discomfort! The innards were hardened, very-slowly rumbling and aching. It told me the constipation was likely getting worse. Ah, well, no use complaining. (Although I was tempted, haha!) 
The legs were looking a bit betterer. The odd mark on the right leg above the Arthur Itis-ridden right knee was fading like I predicted it would. At least I know know what is causing them to appear (I think). According to the results, from Stroke Doctor Senthil K Ragunathan, it is Clopidogrel, whatever that is. I’ll look it up. Here is what Google tell us: 
I made a start on this posting.
Cressed and took the black bags to the waste chute, then down and along the passageway through Winwood Court and to their lobby. 
The fresh pod peas had now finished, and the season ended! Sob! I got some potatoes for Joycie’s and my nosh on Sunday. Then I went to Asda (Walmart).
I came out with mushrooms, tomatoes, crisps and canned meat and fish extra, and handed them to the Food Bank people. The trolley bag was overfull and the carrier ladened with fodder for myself.
The door out to the benches in the new passageway to Woodthorpe Court was still not working.
I did spot a Birthday card in the hallway that came on Wednesday, shoved through the door, that I had put on the radiator on my way out, and had forgotten all about, as I entered. It was from Part-time Cat-Walk fashion Model, and 
As I was cleaning the kitchen floor with the long brush and dustpan, my foot caught the corner of the cabinet stack. This loosened the things on top, and some of the items came tumbling down, on my head! Thank heavens I don’t keep anything heavy up there. Phew! Medication pods and some olive oil bottles (plastic) were all that fell, and they just bounced off of my head without any injury and hid cunningly under the other cabinets. Although it made me jump a bit! Hahaha! 
I rang Sister Jane and Pete, as I had not had a reply to my email asking if they were alright. But they were fine, I’ glad to say, the EQ was wrong!
Got the handwashing done, and took a photo of what at the time I believed was the morning sky! This was when it dawned on me, and I checked the second-hand bargain £2 charity shop bought wristwatch, (With the £10 replacement strap, and £10.95 battery) for the time. 07:30hrs. I put on the computer to find out it was 19:30 hours!
And by-gum, it was cold this morning! I got the slippers on and the dressing gown, and took myself off to the wet room to clean the bucket and myself and wash the areas of my body affected by the slash-back! Did the handwashing, took the medications, and back to the Porcelain Throne. Things are getting ‘Solid’ again! 
Took a shot of the pins, to show the new, papsules, bruise or whatever it is, above the right knee. It looks almost bespeckled to me. Hehe!
To the kettle, and made another brew. 
chairs. 
The Slab Square, and a right-tatty, unkempt mess it looked. But it had a good few Nottinghamian’s lounging about, was passed by, and I had a walk down to St Peter’s Gate Church. There were few people about this morning. Even Exchange Walk was sparsely being used, a low footfall, I think they now call it!
Back up Wheeler Gate and into the Poundland store. I had a long hobble about inside, and came out with; Twiglets, drain unblocker x2, biscuits for the nibble bag, can of stag chilli and chips, BLT sandwich, a Pork Farms pork pie, honey roast almonds, birdseed, and chocolate pretzels (for Jane). 
I Paid the bill at the self-serve checkouts, and went to the Slab Square. The overfull trolley-basket guide, with the full carrier bag hanging on the handle, was a little hard to control.
My first need, though, was food, I was hungry. I felt I needed to degust the meal today, really enjoy it. Not precisely an allotriophagy or 
Rewashed the hands, and went to take another sachet of