Inchcock: Monday 5th December 2022

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06:10hrs: I woke up in the usual fashion with a jerk after having already woken up several times in a similar fashion. Had a wee-wee, quick wash, utilised the , the first time, which was followed by four more by midday! Changed into socks, PP’s, trews and dressing gown.
The second visit to the, . Made a brew of Glengettie.
Got some spuds cooking in the slow cooker.

Got the fridge dates checked. There were some I could not see or decipher, thanks to , and the foggy, not to mention .
Took a snap of a large number of vehicles this morning down on Chestnut Way in front of the Woodthorpe Court block of flats.

Made up some waste bags; I had to dish even more of the Asda potatoes that had gone green overnight.
Got the computer on and had a go at the free find three logos competition.
Not doing any worse this year; my record stays a two (February).
All other times it was one, like today.
Got on CorelDraw and Word to make this template.
Back for the 3rd visit.
Then an amazing thing happened. What a Shock!
Mr Fries, Liberty-Global Virgin Media went down. Humph!
How do they get away with it, being such rubbish and overcharging idiots like me for a pathetic service?
And Fries still gets his phenomenal salary and guaranteed bonus?
Not that I’m jealous of the Smoke & Mirrors; financially manipulative man, of course.

Arrived, and it was nice to see him. He was yawning at the end of his shift. Got the medications sorted, and we had a mini-natter. He checked the taps, stove and lights left on for me. Richard found some medications out of date, which we wrapped and threw away. 

number four visit was activated. this time, only just got there in time. This is a problem because I need to go out to get some money. At this rate, I dare not go out, but will still need the cash to keep paying bills. A dilemma here!

Made a brew of Glengettie tea and eventually got back on the computer. Updated the Sunday blog and sent it off to WordPress.

and Ty arrived for the second check visit. Ty helped me with the Amazon confusion I was in. I took another Paracetamol cause the bladder was still playing up pain-wise.

Rang out, and the DVT Warfarin nurse came in and did the INR blood test for me.
A different nurse this time seemed in a rush, but pleasant enough.

Visit number five was attended to. With the evacuations in control of Trotsky Terence and a few close calls, I may have to leave getting out to get some cash for fear of getting caught out? Leaving me in a quandary: if things are the same tomorrow?

acci-whoop I got a text message from Asda telling me of the shortages and substitutes on today’s order. Oh, dearie me… Another cock-up on my behalf! I thought I’d cancelled this order when I made the one for Sunday. Apparently not! What a clot! In fact, this got me self-hating and cursing at myself! 

As I made a start on this template, I changed my mind. And decided to get the done instead. Fancy me equivocating? Ahem! Off to the wet room with the clothing needed for after. Hope the shower still works and there is enough hot water to get a shave safely.

Commenced: The visit… erm, six is it? Was needed. I’m becoming something of an expert on the Throne! Hehe! Good job I didn’t go out to get some cash, after all.
My fears of the shaving cuts were right. At least eight cuts were gleaned; I thought  I was going to break the record… but it was close. Another couple and I would have.
The showering was a little farcical all around. Hit my head on the power box – Twice! Dropped the picker-upperer when trying to retrieve the loofah and then head-butted the tiles when I lost my balance bending down to get it! All this pales into insignificance compared to the pain that came from , and him getting crushed in the process! Crying was an option I had considered at the time…
But getting out of the shower and stubbing my against seemed to be more important at that specific time. The language that I spouted was crude, common, foul and naughty! So much so that I surprised myself, and a sense of guilt overcame me. I gave myself a lecture for being so generic in my vocabulary.
Then, I dropped the bleach bottle as I was cleaning the bowl… no need to say what started again, is there? !!!

When getting dressed and pulling up the trousers with the picker-upperer, I dropped it and unthinkingly bent down to try and catch it – The only thing I achieved was .

How I didn’t cry, explode or commit suicide, I don’t know for sure.

I was giving the much splashed with wee-wee WC a clean and disinfecting with Dettol, and arrived. I think if I could have got the tie on the trouser waist undone in time, all this would not have been necessary?
Jo-Anne got the medicines sorted out and issued. We had a little natter, and off she had to go. I think she checked the taps during the visit, as she helped me sort out wet room things. Bless her!

As Jo-Anne was leaving, three letters arrived, and she handed them to me.
The first was from the NHS Hazelwood, The Coppice Hospital. I assume this is for the first brain Scan to be done. I hope they find one; cause Dementia Doreen certainly has done! Haha!
The second was the INR Results; at first, I thought there was no way they could have gotten this to me on the same day? It turned out to be the one done on 28th November! No wonder I couldn’t find it when the nurse asked me for it earlier.
The last letter was the bill for the Carers services. It says the cost to pay will be £354.24…

I’m bloody fed up with myself at the current moment. I’d left the hot water tap (faucet) running… again. AGAIN!
Everyday life is such a battle nowadays.
Peripheral Neuropathy, Diabetes, Neurotransmitters dying. The eye problems’, Saccades-Sandra, Glaucoma Gladys, Cataracts Katie. And mayhap the worst conundrum of them all, Doreen’s Dementia. With Duodenal Donald, Ann Gyna, Reflux Roger, and now the temporary members of my Ailments Club as well.

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Bladder Belinda, Trotsky Terence, Colin Cramps, Toe-Stubbing Thomas. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Devlin’s Deafness, and occasionally the Mind-Blanks… All are liable to attack at any time… ad do too!
Take the PN-inspired, I wish someone would take them. They can last from a few seconds to at night when lying down, half an hour or so. Most embarrassing when I am, say, in a bus queue in Bulwell, everyone else in the shelter scattered when the leg dance kicked off, and a minute later, a policeman appeared looking askance at me, asking if I’d be drinking or taking drugs! I’m talking myself into a depression here! I’d better leave this subject now.

The unexpected Asda delivery arrived after had not long gone.

The deliveryman took the things through to the kitchen for me and put them in the boxes as well.

I happened to see the four substituted for Cottage Pies, Lasagnas and asked him to take them back, which he did gladly enough; bless him.

The potatoes that arrived yesterday, had all gone green now and had to be thrown away.
Today’s lot looked a lot fresher, though.

They substituted semi-skimmed weak milk for the full cream again. The coffee for the nurses and carers that were not available yesterday but did arrive today.

On yesterday’s order, I’d asked for three different types of bread and got none.

I did better today; I asked for the same three but got one. The Sourdough rolls.

I had a heck of a job-making room in the fridge to get the food in it.

Unfortunately, there were so many items that either did not have a sell-by date on them (that I could find), or the printing was just not big enough for me to recognise.

One good thing, though, is I might be near-bankrupt with all this massive Dementia Doreen-inspired food buying, but I shouldn’t starve for a while anyway. Hehehe!

The two more packs of the Asda brand Soya Lemon Yoghourts are now ensconced with yesterday’s two packs, and I now have sixteen mini tubs of the stuff. I must ask Richard or one of the other carers to check on the use-by or best-before dates on them for me.

I’ve got a pack of the new BBQ beans in the saucepan, with some 7-Vegetable sauce added, some soya bacon bits, and finally, a good splodge of BBQ sauce will be added when I get around to eating it for supper.

Arrived on his evening checking visit. He asked what I was cooking, saying it smelled nice…
I’d left the heat on the saucepan and the oven on! Good job that Richard called. Most likely, he saved the meal for me. I added the mushrooms to the bean stew, ready to heat up later
I was deep in concentrating on doing this blog, and smelt nowt?
The look in Richards’s face said, erm… well… . Hehehe! Richard took the waste bags with him after we’d had a little natter.

I used the tablet splitter to half a few Warfarins in advance for the carers for a few days. I don’t want them slicing their fingers.

I realised I’d forgotten to put this photo on the blog.
So I did. Better late than never.
I think I took this about 05:00hrs, or thereabouts, as the street lights on Mansfield Road were just being turned on.
Then, I turned off the computer and concentrated on getting the bean & potato meal prepared for consumption.
I’d added some Ben’s liquid smoke into the potatoes, which were cooked in the crock-pot for over eleven hours on low. So they absorbed the flavour into the skin and tasted Wunderbar! As did the mixture of BBQ beans, soya imitation bacon bits and the 7-Mediterranean vegetable sauce with basil passata.
Thought I’d made too much at first, but I masticated my way through it and ate the lot of it! Flavour Rating: 8.4/10, lovely!

Washed the pots, settled down, and sleep came easily. And this time, I only woke up jerkily four times during the night. Grrreat!

Inchcock: Saturday 8th October 2022

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POLITICAL CARTOON
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05:00hrs: I stirred into ersatz life, belched, and the need for the Porcelain Throne was detected. So, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, and hobbled to the wet room. Where GC hatthe was immediately utilised.
I felt the need to rush a bit to get seated… but was wrong! Things didn’t, and wouldn’t move for ages! The crossword puzzle was tried… then counting the cracks on the ceiling (48 today). Used the spyglass to read some of the labels on the medications and cleaners. And still, no movement! I went back to the crossword book, but my concentration was not good, and I didn’t get a single new solution; but, I found a spelling mistake.
Finally, after a marathon wait, things started progressing. Grindingly slowly, and painfully! were stinging, but not a drop of blood was found during the cleanup! Which cheered me up a smidgeon! I got nervous about what I did earlier in the kitchen, and the routine took over.

I went to check on the taps, heaters etc. and found nothing untoward. I did spot the morning view, though.
A got the Lumix out and took a few photographs of the scene on view.
The first (top) one was spoilt by my and the following shakes and trembles.

However, the next two came out shudder-free, despite a short visit from for a moment. She often follows the neurotransmitter’s performance.

I made a mug of Thompson’s Punjana tea, left it to brew, and had to nip back to the wet room for another wee-wee. I had such a massive leak after the main attraction that by the time I’d got cleaned and back to the brew, it had gone stone cold! I ditched the tea, washed the cup, and got a bottle of spring water instead.

Despite the much lower SYS at 146, the assessment chart still put me in a higher in the red-zone area?

Sam arrived. Had a little chinwag.

I went back to blogging.

Well, that was a nice break from , I’ve not heard a bang, clout or thud for over an hour… he’s back now, though.

I got myself in the right pickle again, with grammar errors, formatting cock-ups.. and with the accompaniment of bashing away at me. Grrr!

The regular Iceland Man arriveth! He popped the bags into the kitchenette for me; bless him. I insisted he take a thank you; he chose a can of Fanta orange. I soon started emptying the four bags. The small bananas were large ones. The three Bread thins were two and substituted with one of the two for a pound, cobs, but I got charged full price for not buying two, which I didn’t ask for in the first place. The flipping Iceland fiddle me every time! They were short of one oven bake long-life cobs, so I lost the offer price on those as well!

All of Richard’s stuff was correct, Tsk! Jealousy! He got all of his meat burgers! Still, he’s a good lad. I had to buy the imitation lamb burgers again. They still have no No-Bull brand burgers sack in stock. It doesn’t bother me, though; Oh! No! I’m not jealous!?  I got everything stored away. They made one slip-up, mind you. They had both jars of Passata sauce with herbs that were on offer if you bought two. Hehehe! I got the oven warming up for later to cook the seasoned with peppers chips later. Then, back to the computer… But!

I find that the distinguished-looking number-cruncher, smoke & mirrors operator, Con-man, who just has no idea how to get an Internet Service working anything-like reliably, and he still gets his $23.6 million salary, plus bonuses, shares in the company and expense account; Is so easy to hate!

Must concentrate on cooking now. Oh, I’ll just check to see if Amazon is still delivering today on the tracker. I’d estimate the ETA as about three or four hours. Amazon says by 21:00hrs now, not 22:30hrs. We’ll see!

Lumix back working… it beats me, but cheered me up. Took this shot of the evening view.

Made the meal, and a tasty looking one it was, too. But… looks can be deceiving. As was the case with this beautiful-looking plate of crap!
These chips were inedible! Co-op Salt & Pepper ready side meal. Unless you can cope with viciously flavoured capsicums and white pepper soaked into your chips, I’d give these a wide birth if I was you. Foul is the word I was looking for to describe these. Putrid and troat-burning, too!
I put this photo on the left of the cruel, tongue-burning aforementioned lethal suicide-inducing chips; As a Warning to anyone thinking of trying them.
Only diehard Pepperholics can cope with the red-hot taste of these.
The veg-pasties and tomatoes were alright, though. Bearing in mind that these are all I ate from the plate… Well, I did eat two chips… well, put them in my mouth and spat them out. The first one, , and it was so bad, I tried another, thinking I may have swallowed a dead dung beetle, and couldn’t believe how foul the first one tasted. Overall, a taste rating of 2.2/10. That was for the tomatoes and pastie.
I looked up why people are addicted to Chillies and got this: Chilli Peppers contain capsaicin, a natural chemical that sends a burning sensation from the nerve endings in the mouth to the brain. The body defends itself against this pain sensation by secreting endorphins, natural painkillers that cause a physical “rush” – a high that keeps us craving for more. It’s claimed to be a far better uplifter than the effects of cannabis & CBD, according to the ASM (American Monthly Scientist) magazine. Not for me; a can of chilli-con-carne I can just about cope with, but never again on chips! Indigestible, nasty unpalatable, unpleasant and horrible! I imagine my Cyber-Mate, Tim, would have devoured these with glee. He is a definite Pepperholic!

I got the unwanted meal into three bags and those into a black bag, sealed it up, and limped down to the waste chute and deposited it.
I did want it to burst open and get the caretakers high with the aroma or spill on them and burn through their overalls onto their flesh. Hehehe!

I tried again to go onto WordPress Reader, but it would not let me in again?

Sleep was again resistant to my pleas.

Friday 9th September 2022

FRIDAY’s POLITICAL CARTOON

Thus, the desperation grows…
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Up at 03:00hrs:
Wee-wee, then WP Comments on the computer.
Trotsky Terence was losing his domination this morning. Constipation Konrad taking over. (They tend to do this regularly) The torpedo exited mega slowly, after several minutes of trying to force things along, and so painfully, too! Only a smidgeon of bleeding, though.
I got myself involved in updating the word list on XL. Hadn’t got the time, but that didn’t bother Doreen, letting me wander off the plot.

Carer Jodie arrived, see that I remembered her name!   ‘Okay, I had to ask her twice!’ Tsk! Soon got the medications sorted out. We managed a little nattering session, which suited me down to the ground. Jodie took note of the tap problem, it was leaking, and I begged her to let Deana know. Said she would, and then she departed, and I remembered to ask her to take the waste bag. Honestly! She returned later with the new month’s Medications parcel. Bless her!

I took this photo through the balcony window – using the Lumix setting for the ‘photo-through-glass’ option. Not bad, eh?

Got back and did actually start the blogging. Then Deana appeared with the emergency plumber to mend the leaking tap! ♥ Great! I tried to explain about getting no help with dementia, but Deana was busy and had to get back down at the office. I’ll try to catch her later on when I get back from Riverside.

I’ve had nine calls from an Asian-sounding person now. Six yesterday and Three this morning! Can’t hear a word they are saying. 4 -today now!

Then, got entangled in the word listing again – CLOT!
Got a final wash and readied to go down for the lift. Prepared the trolley and got the paperwork in the basket for the trip. I still don’t know if this is the right date or not? Still, all being well, I’ll find out soon.

Down to the foyer and waited on the arrival of the minibus. Plenty of rubbish around the end of the flats; this area is below the window photo. Plastic hypodermics? That’s what they looked like. A pair of heavy-duty socks. Nub-ends, what appeared to be spilt milk, and a mystery lump of clogged hair, that looked like a fur ball.

The van arrived ten minutes later.

The driver got me into a seat and the three-wheeler Walker in as well. I paid the fare… and then realised I had not got my hearing aids in. That did not go down well with the driver at all! The driver said, ‘Oh, you’ll manage!” [Sounding like I can’t muck about waiting for you!]). But, just in case the meeting was on, I had to fetch the hearing aids. I hastened with all alacrity back up to the flat; as I was getting the hearing aids, the phone rang yet again. I was going to leave it in case it was another of the mystery Asian-sounding person calling. But it stopped ringing anyway. What with door-to-door salesmen going around the flats, making one nervous to open the door, Con-artist phoning and my fear of answering the phone, druggies gear outside the front door… Ah, well…

The reluctant driver strapped me in again. And off to Bulwell, we travelled. Dropping me of in the car park at the Riverside complex, I thanked him, and he reminded me not to pay again. To tell the driver who picks me up that it has been paid for both ways.
Into the centre and to the receptionist in the library part. I asked if the P-Diabetes course was on today. She said to go down a corridor, she pointed to it, and the medical receptionist is in there. So, I limped down the corridor and into the reception room there. Asked the same question of the lone soul lady in there, and this caused a bit of a Sherlock Holmesian activity to be needed. Who is running the course? ‘Nathanial’ – What is the name of the course? ‘Erm…’. At no time did I think of doing the logical thing and getting out the folder to check for the name of the course! Which room were you in? ‘I don’t know; it’s been a different room each time?’ Eventually, after consulting some paperwork, the lady asked me; Did you say, Nathanial? ‘Yes’- Well, it’s not him!
Well, we that got sorted. Hehe! I decided I’d have time to get to Bulwell Market and get some window shopping in.

I meandered out of the hall, and I took a left turn. As soon as I got to the dead end of that corridor, with the fire alarm door, quick as a flash, I realised something had gone wrong! I had to leg it all the way back to the main receptionist…
And then turned left to leave by the door I entered… Huh! I should have carried on to the other end of the building and used that exit, which comes out a lot closer to Bulwell, but no, not me and Never the correct or logical options for us! This meant that it took me three times as long to get to Market Place, and I had to try and hurry things.

I went into the B&M Store purely to look for bargains in their food department. I got some bargain-priced cans of plonk for the carers; I must try again to get some more later if they’ve not gone up. Some cobs and a can of chilli-con-carne. Went into the Market stalls, not that there were many there, and got a bag of bird seed. I was thinking of going into Iceland to see if that branch has any of the NoBull burgers… But checked the time, and I had to hasten back to the Riverside for the lift back!

I threw half of the birdseed hastily as I passed the Leen river bank and almost went head-over-tit as I tripped on the broken tarmac on the pavement (again!). Got to the car park just in time, and the bus pulled in within a minute of my getting there. Phew!

A different driver who took a longer route back, not that it mattered it was all paid for. He offered to come up to the flat with me. I told him thanks, I’ll be okay. Gave him a choice of drinks in thanks from the trolley. Got into the foyer and round to the lift.

I went to have a look at the noticeboard. Which was a waste of time without the magnifying glass, of course.
Up in the lift, and finally home to the flat – with its leaking taps, con-men-calling, scammers phoning and a tenant in the grips of Dementia Doreen, Anne Gyna, and other unwanted ailments.
Got the purchases away. I made a brew, and started to update this blog. After an hour or two, I realised I’d not done the so, I did them.

Well, I think this looks better than yesterday’s results on the Chinese-made sphygmomanometerisationing figures. I’ll pop them into the Blood Pressure analysing site.


Just look at the graph!
The next stage up is dead. Hahaha!


Ah, I see now; I sometimes get there in the end, like, you know. Not always…
The SYS is at 141, a little high, perhaps. But the killjoy (Shouldn’t use that phrase here, should I?) It’s that blooming DIA again that’s shot up that caused this disaster of a result! The body temperature was fine, at 34.4°f. I think The Pulse was okay at 80bpm! Did I drop a Malapropism in this sentence?

Hello, the sky just quickly darkened. Owt to do with the BP reading, do yer think? A hidden message from the grim-reaper, mayhap? Har-har! Why am I laughing?

Better get something to eat the veggie burgers on wholemeal cobs, and some tomatoes sound appealing. It was not bad, either. Yet again, and I’m getting wee’d-off with myself for doing this… I took a photo of the meal, and didn’t realise I’d left the SD caned in the computer reader! Schpugglebogs! Gramshackle-Globberisations! Unglefrogwogglings! and Grrr! Although it looked decent enough, I’d well undercooked the imitation lamb steaks, forgot to put the tomatoes on the plate, and my putting a drop of BBQ sauce on it; turned out to be a dirty great dollop of it! Taste Rating: 3.5/10.

After doing the washing up, O took these two photos from the kitchenette window. I was absolutely overjoyed with them. For they gave me a few minutes of pleasant pareidoliaing.
Even (or maybe because of) the cataract I spotted in the top shot, two eyes and a nose, and a ghost.

In the second one, I found a mouse. But this one is pure beauty to me, Mother Nature with the sun and clouds combining to make a Picasso of their own.

Sweet Morpheus denied me any sleep at first. Then the Thought Storms kicked off, although not all bad ones. Usually, these storms have guilt, self-disgust, shame, frustration, fears etc. in them. But tonight, there were a lot of questions arising, ideas to be mused over.
How I know this, I don’t know. Cause in the morning, the facts contained n the Thought Storms had all been etherised!

Inchcocks Local News Snippets – Comments & Odes

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You could almost finish the sentence for the detective investigating what happened, can’t you? “Somebody should recognise the men for us. We can’t do everything ourselves… Excuse me, a phone call coming in might be important… “Yes… erm, yes. No, no, no, hold the anchovies…”

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What’s the law regarding having animal sex?

……………….Scum!…………………

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Inchcock’s Thought Storms

Introduction

His odes, in many ways, are like a zit…

An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it…

Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,

Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,

Rhyming is so bad that it can ruin friendships,

Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,

Inchy’s not educated, so he struggles at penmanship…

Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!

He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.

Mental power, dreams, and memory have to the ether slipped…

He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has schlepped…

But is losing the battle; thus, he is about ready for his crypt.

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His odes, in many ways, are like a zit; yes, I meant zit,

An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it…

Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,

Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,

Rhyming is so bad that it can ruin friendships,

Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,

He’s not educated, so he struggles at penmanship…

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Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!

He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.

Mental power, dreams, and memory have into the ether slipped…

He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has schlepped…

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But is losing the battle, thus ready for his crypt

But the business went bust,

And I started to lust…

For a gal with a big bust…

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I’m prepared, but not too keen, on my upcoming sepulchre,

To be honest, I don’t see it fits into human culture…

Well, I used to be sociable, in fact, I was a campanologer,

Waking folks up Sunday morning… was my main pleasure,

Which I took my time with because it was a pleasure!

 The locals warned me off, bellringing, with a fervour,

So, to avoid a pasting, my bell rang no more…

Anyway, it hurt my arms, then I got a shoulder fracture…

So, I bought a barrow, and became a costermonger,

Giving me so much time watching the sky and pareidolia!?

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Mood Update:

While struggling to get the preceding crap ode done, I got increasingly confused. I may have just posted bits of a Snippet ode wot I did in between today’s efforts. I have to write this stuff on Word, and then I get a spell checker. Then cut and paste into Blogger, where the colour and font size usually changes, and I have to go through it all again, ever correcting! I got a little depressed with things, life etc… I gave up and transferred it to WordPress. It’s a true-life farcicalness with Doreen Dementia!

However, I had a bit of good fortune in taking a tumble while making a brew of Thompson Punjana tea. Cracking my left knee on a cabinet corner as I went down. Everything seemed to change then, outlook and contentment-wise.

 I suddenly gleaned a previously unthought series of thoughts:

Why am I worrying? The end is nigh, and whatever I do, the Doctor will not accept Doreen Dementia’s existence, so there is no chance in hell of getting any help. ‘Fact!’

As much as I miss my daily hobbles, walking to the shops, and in the tree copse. I no longer have the ability to take them. ‘Fact’ You’ll just have to accept the inevitable, Chambers!

Walking into things may get less after I’ve had the eyes done. No point in fretting over it, the right eye cataract will take time to work, but there is a good chance I will again be able to do crosswords (not that I was any good at them, Hehe!), Not fret over the other eye being done afterwards. It’ll take a long time ‘Fact’.

Should I snuff it before they are done well? Would it matter? Apart from an unknown to me, a battle to get at my valuables from sudden relatives who care… I shall not be around to see it, and I can’t take them with me, (Or, can I?). So, good luck to them. ‘Fact!’

I tried thinking about happier times… that was not easy. Hehe! But Suzanne Jean Percival came to mind first and foremost, and they really were genuine happy memories. ‘Fact!’

That made me feel worse when I realised my current position… So quiet here today, even the noisy standoffish, antisocial, smarmy, reticent, toploftical git in the flat above was not making any noise! Loneliness is something that rarely affects me, but it did then. No one visiting. No phone calls, text messages… a sense of isolation. ‘Fact!’

After I’d cleared up the mess in the kitchen and Phorpain gelled the knee, I made another brew, of Glengettie tea this time, the mood rose… without any reason, nothing had changed, yet suddenly I was ashamed of myself – and self-loathing at my pathetic self-pitying took over.‘ Fact!’

There are so many others in a worse state than I am. Somehow, although it didn’t cheer me up, my acceptance of things grew. 

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So I got on with this blog’s making.

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

LATE THOUGHT-STORMS!

As a young man, I thought I was a brainiac…
But that was sixty-odd years ago, way back,
I’ve been through periods of wine and Prozac,
Lived in a tent, then moved up to a wooden shack…
Cost of livings to high got to cut back!

I used to believe in Old Moore’s Almanac!
Bought a Robin Reliant, but I wanted a Cadillac…
That had to go because I got the sack,
Others had briefcases, me? A haversack!
I’ve never won the lottery, Monopoly, or blackjack…
Amazon, Facebook, eBay my computer track,
Maybe it’s because I’m a senile maniac?

TTFNski!

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!

.

Sunset Thoughts In Odes

“Oy, Inchie…

“Wot?”

“Wot yer doin’ then?”

“Watchin’ the sunset!”

“Wot for? It ‘appens every night, yer burke?”

“I know it does, yer grumpy git! I photograph it most nights yer know…”

“I know that I am a part of yer ain’t I?”

“Then why ask me wot I’m doing then? You drive me to my homebrew, Ooh!”

“I dunno, just to piss you off, I suppose!”

“Sarcasm from you always flows…”

“Do you know, we’re talking in prose?”

“Go on then, let’s keep it up, see how it goes?

“The Carer will be here soon, let’s see who loses the odeing, you know?

“Just look at how the dying sun still glows..”

“I bet you’d get a better pattern as a Filipino?”

“I hear out there, they drink cappuccino?”.

“Do you like Pizzas from Domino?”

“What’s that got to do with the Ode, dumbo?

“Sod-all, you’ll soon be back on the Vino…”

“You’re in a barmy-mood? Why don’t you just go?

Cause I also want to see the sun’s dying glow!”

“I’m not having that; you a naturist? No, no, no!”

“That’s not nice, do yer want your blood to flow?”

“Ah, but you can’t hurt me physically, though!”

“Not my style, but I can send you loco!”

“Ha! I’m already bonkers; you’re too slow!”

“You are a saddo, fatso, and have no gusto!”

“Go on knob-end, tell me summat I didn’t know!”

“Well, the sun’s beginning to go…!

“I wish you would go; you damage my ego!”

“Why do you have to live on the 12th-floor in Council flats? Can’t you afford a bungalow?”

“Leave me alone. You’re always digging at me; you’re making my anger grow…”

“In the flat, it must be like the Alamo! Waiting for death, in agony, another coffin-seeking Bozo!”

“The Alamo? Well, my life seems to be connected like an imbroglio…”

That much, I understand and know…

“I don’t get out much, so?”

“With your luck, if you did, someone would stab you with a stiletto…”

“Or you stay-in, and old father time will soon say, time for you to go, cheerio!…”

“You being a defeatist would mumble, Righteo!”

“You may even ask him, is there time for one last bacon sarnie, with sourdough?”

“Have yer done? Taking the piss and having your fun?

“Aha! Pillock that didn’t rhyme. I’ve won again, I’ve won!

“Rollocks!”

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh-In Ode, Series

Inchcock: Ode to Old Nottingham Memories

Inchcock Loses the plot in this ode to Old Nottingham Memories

But he does his bestest, honest!

Nottingham has many virtues, good, bad and chronic…
Its history, of being Saxonic,
It’s people grand, pleb’s, murderers, some moronic,
Nowadays, we’ve bred more that are demonic…
Muggers, gangsters, shop lifter, a lot, schizophrenic…
A few have car insurance, and not many have a driving licence…
Younger Nottinghamians music is cacophonic…
Thousands of students, so some scientific…
We’ve had many arrested for being terroristic.

Many of them you’d think were telluric,
The job-shy, call having a cold being sick!
Many old uns like me, who remember Sputnik…
Using lard to make their spotted dick!
We’re snided out with those sarcastic…
Even more of them are vandalistic!
Gone are the days of the workaholic…
But also gone, getting polio, scabies and colic!
Hopes for our citizenry? Like a trip on the Titanic!

The tin bath dragged inside from the wall, metallic…
No bath salts, we made do with soap, carbolic!
Hot water, Ha! Boil it on the stove or fire; unhygienic!
The toilet outside at the end of the yard is unproblematic!
Mind you, in winter, I was a smidgeon unenthusiastic…
Coal-house out there, fetching wood could be traumatic,
In the dark, you could kill a rat or cat hidden – tragic!
But lazing in front of the coal fire was magic!
Until the burning ashes shot out, and the carpet got lit!

Anything to be written was in pencil or pen and ink!
We knew nowt about an uplink, hard-drive or weblink,
Mobile, cell phone, wristwatch, dentist or permalink,?
Our pleasures limited, Monopoly, maybe tiddlywink…
Swearing was minimal then, ratfink, burke or gink!
Getting the belt for devilry made us wince and squint!
I got a few lashes once, a day out…for not looking perjink!
I recall once, the lads writing on my leg splint…
Not a lot of it was spelt right; they put sinnt for sent…
But thickness and ignorance permeated wherever I went!

I tried to join a club once, ended up getting a blackballing!
My education, manners, and appearance were appalling!
My approach to girls, looking back… was bloodcurdling!
9 times out of 10, her admirers would end up brawling!
With me, the littlest, the one that kept falling & failing!
On this embarrassing subject, I’ll stop burbling!

Amongst the unknown to us was Methamphetamine,
Mind you, we’d a neighbour who’d supply whisky and gin…
I got IPA, Mackeson, Guinness, thus started drinking…
My intake, for many years, there was no curtailing…
But my love of beer was never really disabling,
Until cancer arrived, there was only one way of controlling…
I singularly went from a happy drinker to totally abstaining!
It was hard, so hard to do, I still find it appealing…
But without any help, encouragement or counselling,
I turned tea-total… smug-mode developing!

I became a keen lover of food and masticator,
My weight ballooned, and furthermore…
Got myself a duodenal ulcer…
Cancer of the bladder…
Then diabetes and nasty hernia…
Peripheral neuropathy, oh, bother!
A stroke, which left me a confused procrastinator…
Disabled, what next? Cataracts, Saccades and Glaucoma!
I was already going deaf, then bother with an incisor!

And to think, I used to be a blood-doner..,
Also, now, I do tend to stutter…
Still struggle with the wee-weeing bother,
Then I was confirmed to have Vascular Dementia…
This life has been terrible… yet also an adventure!
Oh, and the back’s developing a curvature…
I think its best to try and stay demure,
About there is no chance of a cure,
The failing eyesight is worrying me more…

Did I deserve all these ailments? That’s up for conjecture,
Is that the right word? I’ll check… Yes, no error!
Things seemed better in the days of yore, thereinbefore,
The Carers’ cost a lot, that’s for sure…
A little good luck, I could do with some more?
Dementia Doreen’s in control, I’m sure, that I can assure…
Yet at times, she rests, releases the memory-core…
If she returns and comes back to the fore,
She’s my ever-present concentration annihilator!

Sorry, I see my starting thoughts got juxtaposed…
Did my thought waves get overdiagnosed?
Is Dementia Doreen no longer comatose,
Or my incredulous logic, become indisposed?
Have I been overeating glucose,
I’ve just eaten a banana, and I’m adipose!
Would it be alright to have Marmite on toast?
The plot’s gone again – what a terrible host!.

Inchcock’s Abysmal Odeing – For Fun

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – Part 691⅑

A bit close for comfort this one,

We’ll Start with some BBC Midland News shots that I took with the Canon Camera while fighting off sleep watching the TV

You’ll notice my cock-up here, I suppose? Well, I nodded off for a few seconds and it moved onto National news… Tsk!

This is worrying news. Although I’m no Royalist, the Queen has gone through so much lately. Hope she’s going on alright.

And why have they printed Sherwood in a different font and colour, I ask? Are we the highest area of Nottinghamshire for Covid infections? I’ll do some investigationing here… Back soon…

Oh, it seems we are the second-worst, in Nottinghamshire, and Nottingham the worst in the country.

According to another page on the same magazine, Nottingham is 32.5% down vs last week? Mind you, I keep hearing that someone here at the flats has gone down with it. Mmm?

You’ll be pleased to know, that my record at getting close to a win on the find the three houses competition, is still safe. Humph!

Ah, Nottingham will get it now, if this forecast is right, we’re smack in the middle of the blue!.

Aha, a bit of news about what Nottingham is good at – Crime!

.

My fears for the youth of today,
Even those studying, academically,
Those on drugs, acting absurdly,
Using weapons, even hairspray…
With no care for others, empathy…
Back in the day, I could have been me!
But we can’t deny, there’s a moral decay…
Too many are acting aggressively,
Me, me, me… greed and banality…
But even I should be examined really…
Psychologically and clinicopathologically!

.

I stay worried for the next generation, criminologically,
I don’t want to talk of them disdainfully…
But when they act so disgracefully, antagonistically…
Do you ever see a teenager nowadays, looking bashfully?
Mostly they act leery and bombastically…

It the few who have manners and good nature,
Prepared to work in manufacturing or agriculture…
To earn a living, to give others pain a suture!
Not expect things for free, think crime, no bother!
They deserve a much better future…
I pray they can become caring, and uncouther…
Avoid the urge to shoplift, become a druggie and loafer!
Have a kid, and make him her into a goffer!

.

The lock-Down, get the blame for many a thing,
Lawyers mitigate this, over knifings and shop-lifting,
Arson, stealing, mugging, fighting, and brawling…
GBH, supplying of drugs, even dangerous driving…
It’s likely that some solicitor blames it for farting!

.

It’s had its fair share of crime, had this tram stop,
In the 1890s it was the original tram stop…
I remember when it was a Trolleybus stop,
Then back to an omnibus stop…
Now its become a criminal-loving tram stop

At this bus stop, I fell off a trolleybus, did a belly flop…
The reason as I recall was beer… more than a drop,
In those days I was an addict, a drunken sop!
So it didn’t hurt, got up feeling right tip-top…
And bought some Guinness from a nearby shop!

Years later at this bus stop, I wasn’t feeling well, I’d got the flu,
Getting on the bus, missed the platform, what a hullabaloo!
Conductors in those days, in fact, he was my nephew…
A big cheery lad, he laughed so much did Stew…
He said; If I want a laugh, I can rely on you!

.

When did cowardly replace guts in folks?
Fights used to be one on one twixt blokes?
Fists alone, and a handshake after…
Begrudgingly, but forgot about later,
No guns, knives or roving gangs were seen…
Being a coward, on fighting, I’m not so keen…
Any action, you’ll see me fleeing!.

.

A warning of a third storm coming today, Franklin!
But is this warning, just bumfuzzling?
Some are saying it came from Beijing,
But that’s just silly gossiping,
Many places had it a lot worse, with flooding,
So that’s enough of my caterwauling!!

This below is so sad. I’ll stop…

NOTHING CAN BRING BACK THESE ANGELS

Rest In Peace

Inchcock Today: Sat-Sun 12/13 February 2022

Did you see that? I even got the year wrong! Dementia Doreen at work?

I woke up this morning (Sunday) not feeling giddy…
Because I’d had a better sleep? Definitely!
I’d woke up over the night, just six times, you see,
Many of my ailments were not bothering me!
Hard to believe it’s my unlucky Sunday!

But, things felt wrong, different, most notably…
The dreaded Hum, so much louder than ever, unfamiliar…
My nerve-ends continued with their uncontrollability,
But with other pains not here, that’s almost a triviality,
Although the eyes were terrible, cataractically!

If I get a Carer call, with they show uncongeniality?
I shall try today to be calm and avoid perversity…
Contain my nit-picking, self-loathing, and animosity…
I’m too nervous about claiming I can have unflappability,
Dementia Doreen gives the brain ungovernability,
She changes my mood so quickly… The audacity!

Saturday

Saturday was a daymare! The eyes delayed all I tried to do. Not that I tried to do much, other than blogging, for over eleven hours in total. I was up from 02:40hrs in the morning until 21:00hrs at night! Computerisationing the majority of the time. Cataracts Kathleen, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, occasionally bothered further by Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Dizzy Dennis.

I created a Local News Snippets blog (now finally finished off and posted this morning, Sunday). You would not believe the mistakes, errors and messes I got myself into! Nothing else much was done at all. I did find some photographs on the SD card that prompted memories of Saturday if I can recall. Here they are with notes I’m part guessing at about them. Not many. And they may be our order chronologically, on Saturdays, sorry.

These sunset shots were, I believe, from Friday night. The first two in sequence, I have caught some Crows that had just broken up from a murder in the treetops to the right of the picture.

They were fully grown adults, judging by their sizes of them. In the second picture, I caught two of them. They were flying away from the flats at the time. I remember being surprised that I could recognise them.

The following two nights, the sunsets were hardly noticeable. But these ones, I thought, were so beautiful, even with muted colours (Is that the right word? I mean, not as vivid as it is sometimes).

I took just the higher part of the sky in the last photo, and I zoomed in an iota. The seemingly pink cloud amidst the blue-grey ones was so pretty to me. Mother Nature at her finest! ♥

I first utilised the A&D Medical Supplies, made in China Blood Pressure Monitor. Cor Blimey! Yet another near-perfect result. I believe I assumed a Smug-Mode!

Pulse at 73 looked good. The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd©, a contactless thermometer, was used to take the body temperature. 34.2°c. A bit low?

The rest of the day was a bit of horror. Really frustrating and depressing for this non-compos-mentis, mentally & physically deranged, ailing old Inchcock. I fear the time is rapidly approaching when I’ll no longer be capable of blogging. Although Vascular Dementia Doreen sees to be affecting me more nowadays. If cataracts, glaucoma and saccades are ever repaired, that could be a life-saver…

Many hours later, I got the nosh prepared. Which also seemed to take an inordinately long time to do. I think it was through my depression and frustration, but I couldn’t eat much of the meal, despite it being tasty enough. A decent 7.5/10 for flavour content.

Washed the pots, had a wash and put the TV on to watch my favourite ‘Heartbeat’ two back-to-back episodes. Naturally, I fell asleep at the first set of advertisements that came on. Humph!

The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune of the door chime rang out and woke me up. Carer Valerie arrived.

It was only about ten minutes into the second episode of ‘Heartbeat’, so I thought I’d watch that one. I was wrong! Nodded-off again. Woke to want a wee-wee, and ‘Hetty Wainthrop’ was starting on the box – Oh, good! I thought, had my painful slow trickling wee-wee, washed my hands and settled to watch Hetty… Zzz! 

Amazingly, I slept through for about four hours, lovely! Then the waking up with a jolt started again! Can’t win them all!

SUNDAY

With six sudden awakenings since around midnight, on this seventh one, I stayed up. I had to get up for Porcelain Throne duties anyway. Off to the wet room…

Rushing to get to the Throne, I misjudged the gap again. I walloped my right shoulder against the doorframe. There were some bits of bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Nothing too serious, though.

Expecting a messy evacuation again, I had a go at the crossword after getting seated. But didn’t have time to do many clues. The evacuation was a slow job, that needed a fair bit of pushing input from me. Not awfully painful, just uncomfortable. This I put down to Harold’s Haemorrhoids. This is a strange day!

It seemed I’d got out of the right side of the bed this morning? Despite the painful Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas, I was singing away to myself as I washed and oiled the earholes? In fact, I was rather upbeat in my thoughts, too! Well, well! This is a strange day!

Josie last week

Cleaned up and got changed into the day clothes. I remembered that I’d not put the laundry away from yesterday yet. So, I did.

I went to sort the prepping for Josies’ Sunday lunch. All foods to hand, and I got the chilli with some extra beans in the pan. Added the mushrooms, crispy bacon pieces, chestnuts, and diced in some tomatoes. Mild chill and BBQ seasoning, a splash of anchovies sauce, and tomatoes puree. All ready to tackle later on for the gal.

I took a wee-wee, washed the dandies, and got the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, made by the ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd©) in Guangdong, China. The results had crept up a smidge from yesterday. But it is only just in the lower stages of hypertension and has been a lot higher on many occasions. Certainly not enough to destroy my strangely volatile good spirits. That has come from I know not where but is welcome.

The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, had a better reading than yesterday too! A good bit higher.

The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune burst forth, I thought at first, with no one coming in, it was the Iceland Delivery, and someone had let him in, but no! It was the new Carer, Kiya. She has a bouncy, outgoing nature; it seems like she’s done the job before to me. Quick-witted, sharp, communicative, and very pretty! Kiya got the job done, we had a laugh or two, she’s sleeping very well at the moment, she said. Treated her to the nibble-treats, and off she went with a cheery farewell. I didn’t realise until later that she had not taken the three bags of waste with her. Humph!

The intercom flashed and rang… and I heard in the other room. This is a strange day!

The deliver chappie arrived at the door; he looked a smidge down in the mouth.

So after he’s put the bags into the hallway for me, I treated him to a can of his choice (Cider), thanked him, and got them into the kitchenette for sorting out.

There were two substitutes and four missing items. At least the substitutes sent were alright for me for once. The big bag of potatoes looked fresh, I thought…

I utilised the picker-upperer. And this one is one of the better, stronger ones. But it only just managed to lift the weight of the extremely heavy cheese-topped cobs! As I knocked the cheesy cobs off the trolley, they made a thudding sound as they hit the floor! Blimey, they were weighty!

Got the fresh strawberries delivered as well. One each for Josie, Flora and Richard. Not sure if the ladies name is Flora, it might be Flo Francis? Anyway, she lives in flat 8. I’ll take it down for her later on. (What the heck is her name?)

The Walls microwave sausages are for me; I’ve three packets in x6. Four sausages and baked beans flavoured with chilli, BBQ and Worcester sauce is the plan for tonight. Of course, then there is the challenge of breaking the cheesy rolls to dunk in the juice. I could well injure myself judging by how hard they are. Thanks, Iceland! I might use the drill on them?

Took a break and replied to emails and comments. Lovely one from HRH Lisa and comments from Billum.

Then I got Josie’s meal ready. I gave her some extras for Easter. A little egg, a chocolate bar, and her favourite can of plonk. I also handed over half of my strawberries in a separate bag.

Then I took the waste bags out to the chute room. And, I’d like to add (Smug Mode Assumed!); totally without any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplops! No trapped fingers, no walking into anything, no visits from either Dizzy Dennis or Shaking Shaun!

I’ve just come to the following line in the blog reminder pad. I’m curious to know what the heck this is on the left here; it is supposed to indicate for me to remember? Looks like 3 40ging? It’s beyond me! Mind you, I’m not surprised. I can’t even see what I’m writing, let alone read or see the subtitles on the TV.

Then I found this picture I’d missed from the SD card. It is sad, innit?

Vascular Dementia Doreen is active again, I see! I think I took this one earlier today when I got out of the wet room. On the other hand, it could be from yesterday… any day, any month…

Spent more hours doing the blog, then took the strawberries down to… ah, I think her name might be Doris? Anyway, she seemed to like them, bless her.

My next plan… get the bangers and beans done for my nosh. I found out what I thought I’d bought, Cheese topped rolls, turned out to be Tiger rolls. That’s why they were so heavy. Humph!

The beans and sausages were a bit of a disappointment, I fear. The baked beans tasted so different to what I anticipated? The little pots I made pots of mandarins in orange juice and some black grapes for dessert were excellent! Overall, a Taste Rating of 6.5/10.

Did the washing up and sat to watch an old film on the goggle-box. Fell asleep at the first commercial break. Woken well over an hour later, by the new Carer gal, Kiya looming over me asking if it’s alright if she puts the light on. Hehehe! She’d not pressed the door chime. I wish she would have, I mean… I could have been in physical rapture with a young lady on the carpet… Well, okay, not that then! Hahaha!

Kiya was in a good mood tonight. We had a little natter and laughed after doing the medications given. She stayed close by while I took them to check that none had come out through a big gap that used to be filled by teeth.

Off she trotted with a treat in thanks, and I had a wee-wee, washed, got into the night attire and back to the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.

I spotted a blue tablet on the floor. Only Warfarin tablets are blue. So, it seems I had dropped or regurgitated a tablet after all? That was with two of us watching? Bit of a mystery here?

Zzz!