Inchy Today

Inchy: Tuesday 24th June 2025

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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Misspelt – Tsk!
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Why was a chemist called an apothecary?
Would both be covered as a pharmacy?
A needle, a jab, a hypodermic, or an injection?
Shocked, amazed, flabbergasted or awestricken?
Father, Pastor, Reverend, or Deacon?
Plus, moreover, as well as, or in addition?
Educator, Professor, Teacher or Academician?
Atrocity, obsenity, disgrace or abomination?
Milligan, Byron, Keats, Shakespeare or Arion?
Acerbation, irritation, vexation or infuriation?
Continual, incessant, perpetual or aeonian?
Morning, pre-lunch, afore noon, or antemeridian?
Medical, treating, therapeutic or aesculapian?
Certification, qualification, or authentication?
Riposted, flung-back, sneered, or an antistrophon?
Stannic, brass, titanium, metal or adamantium?
Heresy, heathenism, nihilism, or agnosticism?
Reflections, musing, or contemplation?
Pandemonium, chaos, disorder, or confusion?
A stroke or fit, seizure, spasm, or convulsion?
A rattle, a crackle, a whisper, or a susurration?
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We hear words spoken in the vernacular,
Differing words for the same thing is spectacular,
Slangs, nicknames, so many colloquialisms,
All accepted, used as a conventionalism,
Each option locally respected…
Words can easily be wrongly pronounced,
Leaving visitors, strangers, dumbfounded,
Spoken local errors are best disregarded,
They get banned by Starmer at some stage?
Pronouncing a hostage as a sausage?
I love listening to others’ slang,
I’m guilty of using local verbal colloquialisms,
I’ve had a shortage of education,
What I had ignored lacked any curriculum,
Ailments left me with a lack of cohesion,
I tried to join the foreign legion…
I’m joking, of course, it could be worse…
My coffin might fall out of the hearse?
Oh no, I’m being cremated first…
I fell off a hospital trolley, as I waited…
To have my thumb sewn back on.
I’m losing the plot again, sorry…
I’ll be back on Wednesday, if not dead,
I’m getting tired and feeling addlepated,
Not sure if I’m affected, or afflicted,
Nor by what or why, can’t get me aspirated,
I think the log wound may be cestoded.
I’d like my sanity to be reconstituted…
I am mentally & physically daunted,
I think that ought to have been elided,
Or maybe thwarted?
I’ve got to get myself sorted…
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Legs seemed to get a little thinner.
Not the feet or toes, though.
Computer hassle, that Carer Joe helped me work out and get it going again.
A quickie. So many things went wrong. The nurses arrived and changed the dressing on the leg. They didn’t think the swelling on the ankle was anything to bother about. Leg was easier in the morning, but the feet were the same. Progress, methinks?
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Wee-wee shade

Mornings first view

Later view

Got food out for later.

Morning legs & feet shots

Afternoon shots

Selected this shot for the face in the clouds
Face in the clouds, Circled
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Carer Ejaz and Joe called today.

Slurp! Gobble!

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Sweet Dreams!
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Inchy’s Ode: Monday 23rd June 2025

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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I was in Parliament, listening to Keir’s abstractionism,
I gun in pocket, excited, a possible aneurysm?
It seems I’d had an aberration,
To kill the leader of our nation,
All he spouted seemed full of abstractionism,
Ending off with some anecdotalism,
They had problems with an amplifier,
And asked me to investigate???
I dropped it; it was broken in a terrible state,
Beefeaters came, and I was put in detention,
Locking me up in a cell, locking the gate,
No emptying the catheter bag, nothing to drink or eat,
No windows, & a wooden bench, the only seat,
There was a photo on the wall of Tony Blair,
I asked, “Why is that there?
A Beefeater said, “Christ, don’t tell Starmer!”
I said, “Can I have some sausages?”,
He said, “Yes, they’re better than hostages!”
Adding, “Did they take your gun? I’ll gerrit back for yer”
“Well, I was intending to be a murderer”
“But only Starmer”… don’t be such a worrier…
Each of us guards is a Chelsea Pensioner…
We each lost our Winter Fuel allowance,
So will let you escape when we get the chance…
Get yer gun bullets back, put some money in  a sack,
Make sure Starmer calls, but expect a promise back
That you assassinate, Keir the Scavenger!
“Believe me, it will be my pleasure!”
Then we’ll arrange for you to receive a call,
From an 83-year-old stripteaser!
Starmer came, and I became a killer.
Although I prefer to be called an assassinater,
Deed done, I was taken to the hotel by a Beefeater,
He stripped off, saying she was a Drag King,
I have to say, this was to my liking…
What could I do with the catheter contraption?
Although I was getting a painful erection?
She was also a nurse, & started morphing…
Took off the catheter, we started pleasure-making,
The alarm clock went off – bloody annoying!
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A terribly short on detail blog.
I made a decent start to the day as well.
But, bad news, then the return of Anne Gyna on the rampage, as I had anticipated. Toothache Tiffany, and my Leslie’s lymphatic-ridden leg and foot have gotten 20% bigger overnight. The increase in pain from this is about the same percentage. All tore my concentration to pieces. I cannot get my slippers or shoes on at all. The leg is a lot thicker, and the foot is ginormous with all the water under the skin. In addition, the left leg is getting it now! The day passed almost unnoticed by me.
Some terrible news arrived at teatime that I couldn’t mention; it was sad beyond belief. When it’s all over, I can reveal details about it. That threw out what bit of equilibrium I had left. Photos and what I can recall, some bits were readable on the memory notepad.
I’m in pain and discomfort, sad, and working through a depression of mammoth dimensions from the unwanted, almost feared news.

Far too deep a colour this morning.

Morning view.

A smattering of rain came later on.
According to the Nottingham News, England is expected to face a 5 billion litre per day shortfall in public water supplies by 2050, and a further 1 billion litre per day deficit for the broader economy. Pressures caused by climate change, growing population, emerging technologies and the need to protect the environment.
Well, fancy that!

Started blogging. Made a mess of doing the template for today’s blog. What a mess again. I was concentrationless all flipping day. No wonder I’m further behind than ever!

Ejaz arrived as I was struggling to get started on the template. Not the lad’s fault at all, but after he’s gone, I totally forgot where and what I was doing, and ended up starting from scratch again. Frustrated!
The lad did his best for me today. (Referring to the few readable notes here…) Including taking a shot of the state of the legs & feet. (Or was that Joe?)
Not a pretty sight.
What a state they are in, and the right leg is so much thicker and harder than it was yesterday. With the left one getting that way, too, now.
Still, the nurse said she would return on Tuesday.

I don’t recall having many seizures, but I feel confused, like I would be if I’d had some short ones.

Started to get to me, especially with me getting the spirit-shattering news late in the day.

After Carer Joe made his last call, I went to prep the meal of the day. While doing this, I had my only visit for several days and actually enjoyed preparing the food. No logical reason, but I felt great, actually started singing to myself!

Got the potatoes done in the oven. The peas and beans were later placed in the microwave, then transferred to the same tray as the spuds had been baked on.
Added two Siesian sausages. (Not hostages)
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And a day out-of-date lemon yoghourt.

Got the things washed and stored, then returned to the computer, saved the work, and closed it down. I put on the TV to watch a film.
Fell asleep, an uninterrupted sleep; and woke up 7 hours later, with the feet and toes in agony!

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Summary
Painful legs, feet, and toes,
And places where Anne Gyna goes,
Depression Duncan again flows,
How many seizures? Who knows?
Shattered by the sad late news,
I don’t need any more angst,
My hopes now at the bleariest… 
I’m at my pitifullest, girls-blousest,
My thoughts, needs get crisscrossed… 
Appointment cancelled by the dentist,
In need of medical care, a chiropodist,
Wait until November to see a neurologist,
My own thoughts are confrontationalist,
Debilities, impairments, new frailties, 
I’m grateful I’ve had no more strokes,
I’m currently at my grumbliest,
I’m a bit like an introspectionist,
Souless, empty, spiritually, an ignoblest!
A confirmed self-criticalist,
When things go wrong, are lost or missed,
Moaning, groaning? I’m the kvetchiest!
I live with a constant mind-malaise,
Bad luck, failures, ailments are my nudniks…
How will I get to see the neuropsychiatrist?
And HMG is full of fibbing pilgarlics!

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A bit down currently, Sorry!
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Inchy’s Ode: Sunday 22nd June 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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I’ve bought a little present FOR Herr Starmer. Well, it saves him from committing suicide, and I’ll be a lot better off in prison, no bills coming in, no cost for food, medical help. Money for my story when I get out. I may become a People’s Hero? Oh, yes!
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I was anti-sex… well, until I was six,
An older neighbour then gave me some tips,
How to enjoy each other’s extra bits,
Boy, did I enjoy the aftereffects!
Even now, on the pleasure, I often reflect,
No one ever found out, as I learnt more aspects…
I think we both became addicts,
Couldn’t have got better if I used Holodecks,
In the kitchen, floor, or behind the cabinets,
A highlight was having it in hammocks,
That day with her two sisters,
I realised why her house had three beds,
A surprise when her cousin interjected,
Finally, my cherry was affected…
Sometimes, all four aided and abetted…
Tuesdays, Wednesdays & Fridays were red-lettered!
I met Grizelda before those days were bettered!
To my Auntie, one day I ambulated,
Who got me to stay with her, & I was bedded!
She was posh, but a little antiquated,
It was a long way from Home, West Bridgford,
I was fed, washed, & talcum-powdered,
I’d never been so well pleasured,
It was nearer to my school, maybe I was adopted…
A TV, a record player, nightly a Jazz fest,
Kisses, gropes, lusts, sex, beyond what I’d hoped!
She taught me how to respond and multitask,
She varied the routines, changed the molests,
Come to my bed, massaging me with her breasts,
Her handwork was undoubtedly the best,
I was nurtured, never neglected…
Got there after school, my pleasures negated…
But, scarily, she had disappeared!
I tried for weeks to see her, I persevered,
No adults would tell me why; it was prohibited!
All I yearned for, and desperately needed…
Was again, be pampered, partnered, & pleased!
Such times we never again proliferated,
Well, it was much later when Grizelda appeared!
Grizelda came along many years later,
Our date ended up as an all-nighter,
A big, strong-muscular gal, hairy, but her allure…
Just thinking of her got certain things astir,
6’3” of passion, thought I might need a ladder,
My glasses would hit a nipple when I faced her
Firm, pec-flexing breasts, sending me aflutter,
I’d get lifted and thrown on the bed, gently…
Muscular legs, as she started to straddle me,
She was my Angel, and said she loved me!
My eureka moment, phenomenally,
6 months bliss, she had to go back to Germany,
In 6 weeks, she’ll return to enjoy my company,
Painted the bedroom in her colour, Coffee,
Never saw her again, I didn’t find out until 2003,
She’d been run over and died the same day,
She was a member of the East German Volkspolizei,
That was the end of my romantic activity,
Cause I got the badder bother, you see.
Then the stroke and Peripheral Neuropathy…
Cataract, heart attack, problems hearing,
Got shot twice, working for Security,
It’s also the end of me ever being lucky!
Still, I don’t like to complain! Hehehe!
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Welcome to the blog of handicapped, nearly crippled, feeling sorry for hissen, Inchy. 
The Lymphorrhoea (a common complication of lymphedema, a condition where lymph fluid builds up in tissues due to a blockage or damage to the lymphatic system) fluid is filling down to the toes from just below the right knee cap. The left leg’s selection is just the skin getting rugged and wrinkled, but give it time; it may join with my right leg in a full explosion of leaking fluids and agony yet. Well, it’ll be company for her. 
I’ve suffered with this before, but never down to the feet and toes. Walking is not easy. Not just the pain, I feel as if I’m standing up, walking on a rowing boat in the rapids at times. Haha!
I’m amazed, but semi-proud of myself for only having two tumbles all week with it.

The seizures have had me over a few times this week (3). To be right, that’s wrong… I’m getting up too soon after the aftereffects when I return from the mind-wandering and or stagnating, far too soon, each time, that caused the problem. They have mostly been short ones, but they have been regular today. Sometimes they need a little extra time to sit down to recover sufficiently before I start hobbling around. Some of my cyber-friends have told me they experience the same problem. Each time, it was the intercom ringing, and I had to get up and go to the hallway so I could open the door for whoever it was, before the timer cut off the connection. Two callers have had to ring again, which I anticipated, so I got myself up from the tumble, and went to the hallway; better late than never, and waited for them to try again.

I spent more time getting out of the seizures than I spent in them. Believe me, regaining your faculties, such as they are, is becoming increasingly complex and taking longer. I cannot say for sure which Carer made which call.  
Although Anne Gyna did not give me a full-blown attack, it’s a worrying sign when she seems to tease me with a couple of stabbing pains in the right neck, amongst others, but only a handful at most each visit. I’ve noticed that when this happened in the past, the next day she’d be in full flow.
I’ll still cross my fingers, though.

The nurse is coming on Tuesday to look at the Lymphorrhoea for me. It’s looking no worse than yesterday, apart from the fact that the fluid queues are bigger, and now down to the toes. Tsk! With any luck, they might come on Monday now she’s taken Friday’s photo and sent it to Matron Jackie… but then again, she’s not in work until Monday… yes, I expect it will be a Tuesday call, at best.

So many blanks for today. This one on the left is interesting, though. The sunshine on it indicates I may have, or someone else did, take this snap in the kitchen. No memory of it? Ah, maybe it is an old one I picked out by mistake? Because I hang dressing gowns over the kitchen window when the sun is out, to reduce the chances of annoying Glaucoma Gladys if the sun hits my eyes, and I often temporarily lose my balance and vision. I lost a lot of things today, concentration, my mobile phone, the haemorrhoid ointment, and track of what I was doing as I did it!

If I live long enough to go to the urgent Neurological surgeon’s appointment. I just may get some help with the seizures… if indeed that’s what they are. No medics have used the word ‘seizures’ in any of the telephone calls and visits I’ve made. I call them seizures cause that’s what they feel like, but I’m not sure of the proper word to use. Still, no rush, the emergency appointment isn’t until… I’ll check on the Google calendar… aha, I’ve found it; Thursday 6th November, at 15:00hrs. Shame they could not have done it as Carer Joe asked them and made it for a Wednesday. Got to get there and back on my own now. I’ll ask Carer Joe to phone Easy-Link to find out when we can arrange a lift.

I fear that if things do not improve, it may mean a nursing home for me. Anything like the one I was in for my stroke recovery… scares the hell out of me.
Sorry, feeling a bit sorry for myself again. Tsk!

Not many memories are recallable for some of these pictures. At least I got some taken.

WeeWee nice & light.

Early morning view. 03:35:hrs.

Carer Manpreet, I think, took this snap of the ankle. Showing the build-ups of lymph fluid on my ankle and foot. Not a pretty sight, as the midwife put me in a pillow slip and handed me to the mother. Who promptly said to her, “I don’t want it, throw it in the Trent!” I didn’t know this until a few years later, when I met the midwife, who informed me of my entrance into lifehood. Naturally, I asked dear Mother about this. I had to wait a while, cause she’d just been arrested. When she was bailed and rang Dad for a lift, she got home. I told her and asked if what the midwife had told me was true. She casually replied, as she lit up a Park Drive cigarette: “Yeah, but I took to you, a bit later on.” How reassuring for a four-year-old. No wonder I went on to get Dementia. Tsk!

I got the potatoes delivered from J Sainsbury yesterday. Intending to boil them in the slow cooker for later on. These manky ones above had to be removed from the bag first, as they all had black spots on them. I consulted Google: Black spots on potatoes can be caused by several factors, including bruising, fungal diseases such as black dot or black scurf, or a condition known as blackheart. While some of these are cosmetic and safe to eat after peeling, others, like blackheart, can indicate rot and make the potato unsafe to eat. I saved half of them that looked edible. And I put them in the crockpot on a low setting.Put to marinate.
I shelled and added some peas.
Looking good!

Final Meal!

What a view!

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The foot, ankle, and leg throbbed a bit.
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😺 Keep Safe & Well! 🐶

Inchy Today: Sat 21 June 2025

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

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A perfect name for Starmer? Reprobate!
He does tend to extrapolate…
Also tends to floccinaucinihilipilificate,
His lies are spoken in a manner asseverate,
He lies perfectly; well, he was a barrister,
His promises have all gone abnegate,
Nationalise public services? We still await,
Robbed every pensioner and family farmer,
A Labour Party leader, now PM, the bleeder!
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Thankfully, although I couldn’t recall taking many of them, I managed to get a few photos taken today. Because the memory notepad was bare this morning. Last evening, I had seizure after seizure. That late in the day meant it clashed with my daily routine, leaving me tired and confused. The result was not nice for me. I cannot recall the last two Carer visits at all, but I assumed they were the usual weekend two, one of whom came earlier. 
Lymphorrhoea Leslie also got worse as the day went on. I was struggling to walk and to keep my balance.
The under-toe area was excruciating, along with the sack of Lymph water that was growing under the ankle bone. 
The toes have gone bent, and there is Lymph water now on top of the feet. The wound area is only painful when I catch it on something, although it does give off the usual electric shocks up the leg, but not too often, and makes me jump more than it feels too painful. Toothache-Tiffany has been on and off all day long. One blessed thing, though; Anne Gyna was kind to me today. Bless her.

My worst day in a long time, to be honest. With the repeated out-of-it’s and my confused state of mind after each seizure, I’m not sure of anything that took place. I sense more people came to see me, but certainty mingles with uncertainty.
Luckily, I had the top graphics done before the seizures arrived.

I hope Sunday won’t be the same. 🙏🏻

The night bag colour was good!

Food Delivery
Fridge
Filled up!
Fridge door

Cheesy Roll, bacon, tomatoes
garden peas & a pot of jelly.

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TOODLE – PIPS
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Inchy’s Ode: Friday 20th June 2025

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

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My thoughts tend at times to do aerobatics,
It considers itself something of an anthologist,
Memory-Mangling-Malcom: Thus memories missed,
Or shared, swapped, or lost in the mist…
One may reclaim an iota, or some missing bits,
Then new ideas are lost or dismissed,
Mingled with mystery, abstrusest,
Facts glean different interpretations,
Resulting in aberrations, in addition, anon…
Confusion deepens when I recall the first one,
Forget the next one, this brings doubt, mistrust,
A selection of fears, worries and angsts,
Time lost, and the urgency gets overstressed…
One moment you are at the day’s angriest,
Sweat under the armpits, concentration flits,
Frustration, followed by getting depressed,
All you can do is what you deem your best…
Then Anne Gyna kicks off, all over your chest!
Reminding you of Grizelda’s hairy breasts,
Our lamented mutually-loved entangling trysts,
Oh, how I miss those physical exercises…
Gone forever – wanting to cut your wrists…
Like each and all self-controvertists,
You dig out memories and eroticise,
Wondering if this is really wise?
Recall your hatred of Starmer & graffitists,
Am I a sort of inspirationist?
Is it time to metamorphosise?

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05:00hrs: I stirred.

A lovely light shade.

I thought it would be a good idea to try to get the front room tidied & cleaned bit.
It still looks the same.

Cut up some tomatoes and put them in the fridge for later on, salted.

Joe checked the neurologist’s text message. And got it up on screen (the letter). It turned out that the appointment is for November.

Carer Ejaz then Joe took photos of Leslie’s leg and ankle with lymphorrhoea throughout the day.
The District Nurse came to change the dressing. She seemed concerned about the fluid-filled growth above the ankle joint and took a photo to send to Matron Julie for assessment.
Ejaz’s inside of the ankle.

Showing early hours of the ankle fluid swelling, and the tape that Ejaz added to keep the pad on.

After the nurse had been. The fluid-filled sac is obvious and a little larger now.
A fresh treatment pack was put on.

While Carer Joe was here, I had a seizure. Joe said it lasted for just a few minutes. Then, took this photo as I was writing on the memory notepad.
Minutes later, the seizure arrived.
As I got up from the chair, the after effects of this seizure had me over, another tumble. I lurched on my way down, landing on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, whincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, catheter-tube-trapping recliner.
A smidge shook up. I should have left it a little longer before getting up after being out of it?

Joe will be off for two days now. Not a pleasant thought at all. He’s saved the day so many times this week, I fear for myself over the weekend. But the lad needs his breaks. Got a wedding to go to as well. I love photos of Pakistani weddings, the joy, the colour, and the celebrations!

I spent many hours on the blog, and it seems to get nowhere with it. I’m still on it now, Sat morning.

Nice!

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FARE THEE WELL, EACH!
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Inchy’s Ode: Thursday 19th June 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Inchy, who is known as a prognosticator,
What’s less known is that Inchy is a wangateur,
A telepathist, a character and mind-reader,
I ought to have been a parapsychologist…
Instead of a street gaslight lighter & snuffer,
I’m not a crystal gazer or tea-leaf reader,
A future events forecaster, a Heralder,
A good but mostly sinister, fatal harbinger,
Events given, we can still outmanoeuvre,
World unity will be needed, so that doesn’t matter.
The world will end, the central orchestrator?
Oligarchs, America, China and Russia,
Israel, Middle East unrest, & Starmer,
Before the end, there’ll be many more slaughtered,
These facts are not exactly spirit-transmitted,
I got them when the Grim Reaper visited,
Trump made his move for Canada…
Planning on attacking Greenland later,
China went for Japan, India & Malaysia,
As Poland was attacked by Russia,
Starmer hid in Number 10’s nuclear shelters,
Food & air for years, but no backhanders,
Filled in his expenses claim form first,
As the rockets, missiles, & bombs burst,
Sipped his Dom Perignon Oenotheque Champagne,
Being PM suddenly seemed so nongermane,
It didn’t take him long to go insane…
Rayner cut his throat to put him out of pain…
Named herself a P.M., covered Keir with a soutane,
“We may yet be saved by the transundane”,
Farage smiled & told her to shut up again.
They felt the Russian “углубиться глубоко” land,
“углубиться глубоко” means to Drill Down Deep,
After this, we never heard a peep!
Earth burst open, the burning core…
Shot out never to be seen again, anymore,
Now that is total annihilation!
Humankind, well and truly all gone,
No worries, jealousy, or smoked bacon!
No murders, kidnapping, or need for a battlewagon,
Freedom, though nobody to show appreciation,
No armies, faiths, greed, or any basilicon,
No medical apparatus needing calibration,
No struggling with the Catheter contraption,
No canceration, concern, or cannibalisation,
Just an eerie trace of capitulation,
No one to tell of humankind’s cessation,
Well, apart from this Ode, or citation!
No colloquium, symposium, or association,Souls within, annoyed, bothered, exasperated,
Peeved, resentful, their thoughts bifurcated,
Heaven or hell, where would you have bivouacked?
Hell or Heaven, neither is a fact…
Words human written and changed, people beguiled,
Why was there no returning Lord?
But, there’s no need for me to overboard,
No fear now, no gun, poison, or sword!
No hackers for us to be threatened,
No battles, no victors, and no defeated,
No choices of drink, no water, vin ordinaire,
No pretender, prizewinner, or purloiner,
No more sausages to mix up with hostages,
No, Glengettie, Grizelda, toast or Tizer,
No feeling iller, sadder or perkier,
No seizures, depressions, or medications,
No regulations, regurgitations, or rehabilitations,
No more fungal lesions or mental visions,
No struggling in making decisions,
For tellurians, I found no justifications,
But adored children, puppies & kittens,
In later years, so little jollification,
Starmer was ruining the UK nation,
I felt I was existing, living in isolation,
Carers and nurses have my laudation,
Oligarchs have my destestation,
I’ll be gone, so no more prophetisation,
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I got even further behind with yesterday’s blog.
(Tomorrow I’ll get even more behind!) Aargh!
Bare threads, just some snaps. I eventually got the computer to read.
Night bag.

Morning kitchen view.

Later morning.

Lymphorrhoea Leslie shot taken by my Carer Joe.
It’s not blood coming through the plaster to the cover. It’s a leakage of lymph fluid from the skin’s surface, often appearing as beads or a trickle of fluid, especially in areas affected by Lymphedema. (That’ll be mine) This condition can result from high pressure within the tissues due to Lymphedema, causing the skin to become compromised and leak fluid. It’s essential to manage lymphorrhoea to prevent skin damage and infection. See how knowledgeable I am?
Well, I Googled and copied it, Hehe!

All the other tries to do the latter photos failed, but maybe later tomorrow, my temperamental reader will start to work again. (It didn’t!) 

All three trips to the were controlled by . Which meant saving time waiting for a
evacuation to be forced. But spending more time than ever cleaning things up.
I just can’t win, can I? Haha!

Carer Ejaz, Joe, Joe again, then Ejaz, today.

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Healthy & Unhealthy Selection Tonight.
Cheesy roll with roast ham & no-butter butter.
Onions, mashed potato chunks, cooked crispy in the oven. Five different (one of each) varieties of Isle of Man tomatoes. And a naughty but delicious Silasian pre-cooked hostage… No, no…sausage. I just thought I put this in so Herr Pensioner & Farmer robber, Herr Starmer, can feel less of a fool for his gaffe. Hehehehehe!

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May Your Day Develop Delightfully!
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Inchy’s Wednesday Ode: 18th June 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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Some people are far too cold-blooded,
Many are masked and hooded…
It’s bad enough with criminals, domestic,
Making innocents fear and agoraphobic,
Brawls, fights, altercations, and fracas,
A scuffle can turn into a bloody ruckus,
A squabble, uproar, a ten-man battle,
But when countries go to war…
A hand grenade can kill men by the score,
Children killed by drones they never saw,
Oligarchs: filthy-rich, the proletariats poor,
Breeding discord, disharmony, dissension & more,
Urgeing, uprising, uproar as they clamour…
To sell weapons they supply, for more & more,
Encouraging violence, anarchy, even heresy,
Ensuring inharmoniousness, no peace anymore,
No one dared to challenge Putin’s Ukrainian war.
Now, similar ideas are coming from Starmer,
Trump threatens Greenland & Canada,
Aggression greeted with apathy…
The Middle East, with even more ferocity…
The West does nothing volitionally,
So, wars, conflicts, hostilities, and animosity…
Bloodshed, confrontation, discord and enmity,
Few citizens are generally syntonic,
More people are turning Satanic…
Youths need drugs, glue, something somnific,
Lone pensioners’ lives are pathetic, threnetic,
This Ode is sounding a little threnodic,
Humankind seems understandably tenebrific,
To pacifists, wars and violence are petrific,
To the murderous cliquey-elite, the Oligarchic…
What use is your wealth? 
If you kill off the Earth?
The deaths you organise…
Yes, you do profit wealthwise,
You can afford the best healthwise,
The cruelty & greed that you epitomise…
I’m trying here to philosophise,
Why? I don’t claim to realise,
that the financial elitists,
Must they have their frailties?
Too late, the World cannot be stabilised,
Earth’s wealth & assets you have conquered,
By the greedy, you were revered,
As long as they were back-handed,
While bombed children, starved & died!
Wars, death, will peace ever be revived?,
Will peace ever be accepted?
Can hatred be overcome or aborted?
Will armageddon let the poor be watered?
Why are crooked politicians never convicted?
Starmer’s many fibs, corrected, or correlated?
Ex-barrister; so they might get copyrighted,
If Keir, Putin & Trump were ousted…
I’d prefer it if they were cremated,
Or, hung drawn & quartered,
Would the proletariat voters be contented?
No! New weapons would be invented,
Peace would again be circumvented,
Relatives of the dead and wounded…
Would not be noticed or comforted,
A new liar-crook would be elected,
World Peace will never be an achievement,
War’s continuation, deprivation & bereavement,
Cost of living ever more accrescent,
The coming of the Lord is still abeyant,
Blood flows, citizens acquiescent,
Is this my summer of discontent?

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A sparse one today, I didn’t get the Ode finished until Thursday gone noon. No photos were being recognised again on the Computer, but a few were on Thursday afternoon. Very weird!
Up at 05:10hrs.
My night bag was removed. Revealing a bright light shade for the NHS record.
Started on the Graphics for the blog.
Carer Ejaz did a quick call. Medications, and he hoovered a bit. I forgot to ask him to empty the bucket and put the vacuum on charge.

Mini seizures kicked off. It’s incredible how unbalanced I feel when I come back. The longer ones seem easier to recover from. I think I shouldn’t have said that! Not with my luck. Haha!

Grammarly problems delayed me further. I started to download the CCleaner update, but I couldn’t figure out what to do with the new layout. I thought I’d got it downloaded and in the file. But no. I’ll have to wait until Carer Joe arrives, I’d be lost without his help.

Carer Joe saved the day yet again! He went through the uploading procedure, and ‘Wallah!’, it was loaded and installed. Still confused over what two of the three programmes are all about. Joe opened some mail, and there was nothing to worry about.
I did forget to ask him about the hospital and the Audio clinic appointments situation. Tsk! I’ll ask him tomorrow, if I remember to. (I did! )

I got some photos adapted into graphics, and they turned out all right. Only these two, though.
Isle of Man tomatoes, five different varieties.
Hashed potato chunks. The red spring onion was massive and so strong, it was lovely! Two ready-to-eat Silesian sausages. Salt & vinegared. I ate two cheesy-topped bread rolls with them, no fillings needed.

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🌼MAY YOUR DAY BLOSSOM! 🌼
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Inchy: Tuesday 17th June 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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It’s time for me to transubstantiate…
I’ll just look the word up, mate…
Transform, metamorphose? Maybe modulate,
Life does exasperate, frustrate & aggravate,
Of course, it wasn’t like this in 1958,
Things were different back in the day,
One could write without using an apostrophe,
More social neighbours, though a clanjamfray,
I missed out on all things scholastically,
But I worked to earn, & live antediluvially,
I note that this Ode lacks articulacy,
Symmetry, logicality & although true, reality?
Sometimes, my thought box lacks adequacy,
I lose my own plots, I go self-admonishingly…
Deep into thoughts, waveringly…
It’s a strange world, brain; it didn’t used to be.
Once-certain plots fade, sometimes completely,
Crumble disappears, as does my general alacrity,
Things need to change urgently, straight away,
If seizures, concentration, recollecting, my memory…
If all my ailments can be sorted, then just maybe…,
Starting with those affecting me mentally,
Seizures and Peripheral Neuropathy,
Then I might live less forgetfully?
And those that affect my alterity,
I can live with not hearing clearly,
Glaucoma needs to be treated so I can see?
A bladder miracle so I can pee?
Anne Gyna needs pain relief urgently,
Duodenal Donald Reflux Roger, Dan Dyskinsia,
The fungal lesion on poor Little Inchie…
I’ve suffered since August 2013,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, since 1993,
A mechanical aorta that went painfully!
I think I was coping well until I grew elderly,
Then the stroke, which left me strugglingly,
These aren’t written exactly chronologically!
District nurses call on me monthly,
For the catheter contraption swap, that hurts me,
Nurse Hristina, blood tests, she is lovely,
As is a rare caller, Matron Jackie,
The Matron came to see me today,
Tended the wound on Lymphorrhoea Leslie,
I think I may have arteriopathy.
My ambolyphy comes on earlier in the day lately,
The tiredness & weariness, earlier every day,
If you live long, then this is how you pay…
And with Arthritis, cartilage failing & FND,
Thanks to Starmer, I’ve far less money,
Gawd knows how much I owe for electricity,
But I don’t hate the dishonest backhander-taker,
Proof that I can still act astuciously?
No, I now despise and detest the bugger!

I’m so busy that I’ve fallen behind with everything. Many happenings and much confusion. I’ll have to miss some of them and shorten others. Sorry. DOUBLE SORRY! Cause I spent over 16 hours waffling on and getting new ideas, self-lambasting actually. Recalling from photos and badly scrawled notes. The odd things, like Matron doing my leg & telling me off, are clearish in my miserable memory. Hehe!

Nocturnal pouch.
Morning view.
Health Checks are all good, 
bar one BP reading.
Leg wound.
Food delivery.
Tomatoes.
More Tomatoes, cheesy rolls.
Gorgeous garden peas!
Meats, cheesy cobs.
Leg after Matron Jackie’s visit.
She worked out that the temperature
taker was out of balance and the BP 
machine needed to be thrown out or
recalibrated. The Blood Oxygen box
was okay. I’ll stop doing them now.
That should save me some time.
The Matron put some pads and a
plaster on the leg wound. Said if the 
plaster does fall off, I’m to ring the
Community number to get a nurse to
come and refit and check the leg.
A nurse will call in a few days to
see how it is. No showering for a
time now, then. The leg hurt more
after the treatment, but this was
expected, as whatever was on the
pads started to take effect. Oddly,
the electric shocks up the leg 
have kicked off again; they don’t 
half make me jump. Har-har!
Carer Ejaz, first call. Took the two bags of waste, mainly from the freezer and fridge. Outdated, to make room for the… wait for it… 10 bags of potato chunks that I’d idiotically ordered!
Life is getting a little more confusing, hard luck, mistakes & cock-up ridden!,
Sandra’s Mini Seizures played with and stayed with me as soon as I gave up on blogging, intending to make something to eat…
The memory blanks developed; I think Carer Joe helped again, but at this moment (Wednesday morning, 08:45hrs, the blanks returned. I’d just made a right clanger on the computer, and was in semi-panic mode, so this was not surprising.

Took a shot of the view late evening.
Then the tiredness and lack of concentration developed, a little later than usual.

Then, after a messy Trotsky Terence visit to the Porcelain Throne and a wash, I felt up to making something to eat.
Two delicious cheesy-topped, no-butter buttered rolls with tomatoes inside, three Silasain sausages, pickled mushrooms, last of the cooked bacon, and some of the potato chunks done in the oven. 
It tasted delicious. But my weariness must have had some effect (not half!), as halfway through eating it, I nodded off to sleep. Very fortunately, the tray was still balancing, albeit precariously, on the wobbly belly.
So, no mess to clean up! Off to the kitchen with half the cold meal on the tray, threw it away, washed up the dish and cutlery.

I then fetched the Kodak Tim from the other room and took this rather appealing photo of the sun sinking in the dark

The following events are not available.
Regular Service will be resumed as soon as possible.

Although that is a virtual impossibility, a chimaera, fantasy, flight of fancy, imaginative faculty, falsification, deception, porky-pie, terminological inexactitude, figment of the imagination, great imaginativeness. A piece of fiction, tarradiddle, buncombe, folderol, phooey, hogwash, a cruel deviation from the truth.
Nothing will ever be proper, safe, or acceptable again. Nor contain the slightest smidgeon of ambition, optimism, anticipation, aspiration, encouragement, hopefulness, hopes, confidence, and optimism will be obliterated, no longer extant, snuffed out. 
By whom or what?
I gave this some thought.
Xi Jinping, Starmer, Putin and/or Trump.
Premordid Cognitive Impairment.
Functional Neurological Disorder.
Approaching, Almost here, Armageddon.
Artificial intelligence, Climate change, Cyberattack, Environmental disaster, Nuclear war, Asteroid impact, Planetary or interstellar collision, A powerful solar flare, solar superstorm or a solar micronova, Extraterrestrial invasion, Natural pandemic,  We run out of water. Uninhabitable Universe: The ultimate fate of the universe is uncertain, but it is likely to eventually become uninhabitable. Then, there is ‘A reversal of Earth’s magnetic field’, Supervolcano Eruption, A Rogue Black Hole, Bioterrorism, Resource Depletion, Nanotechnology, and, highly likely, Bad governance from our country’s leaders.What is the biggest threat to the world?
While extinction is the most obvious way in which humanity’s long-term potential could be destroyed, there are others, including irreversible collapse and inevitable dystopia.
This little outburst from Inchy is possibly indicative of his insanity, his mental state, and perhaps assisted by his Peripheral Neuropathy, Stroke aftereffects, frustrations, inabilities, disabilities, mind-blanks, or his helplessness, hopelessness, feebleness, ineptness, maladroitness, uselessness, unsuccessfulness, worthlessness, ineffectiveness, & inadequacies?
Bad ears, eyes, ticker, Cathy Catheter, Cartilages Chloe & Carol, Arthur Itis in both knees, regular falls and dropping stuff, Dementia, old age, Anne Gyna, FND, of mayhap he’s just going bonkers?
Yes, we’ll settle for that! A Glaikit!

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Beginning to worry about me. Hehehe!
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WHAT A DAY!

Inchy Today: Monday 16th June 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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WHAT AM I SAYING? DID I EVER HAVE A GOOD DAY?
Yes, I had one in 1966, then again in 1973!
Passing my driving test, oh, the glee!
First sex with Grizelda it went perfectly,
Wonderful, Grizzly didn’t laugh at Little Inchie,
A Deutsch policewoman and me, a booboisie,
We mingled with synchronicity & ecstasy,
I’ve strayed from the plot this Ode was to be!
It’s prompted my memory, delightfully…
Assure to be ardently amorous, & steamy,
Her dark eyes would turn enticingly…
At the bed, where I’d land after she threw me,
Our entanglement had a sense of celestially,
Our ravishings ended with me acting euphorically,
Grizelda stood up, looking divinely statuesquely,
Nodded at the mock fur carpet, looking invitingly,
Lifted me and down on the fur, soon to look tatty,
Two hours more activities, and we were sweaty,
We went down and resumed on the settee,
She’d stand, looking voluptuously, & curvaceously,  
Gawd, she was pneumatic, muscular & chesty,
She’d ask for a lift home, in the Skoda, invitingly,
I knew what was in store for Inchy…
Seats laid back flat, sex in the car, exquisitely!
We performed in fortissimo, aggressively,
Supercalifragilisticexpialidociously!
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THIS DAY IN HISTORY
June 16th has seen a variety of significant historical events in 1779. Spain declared war on Britain. Initiating the Great Siege of Gibraltar. In 1963, Valentina Tereshkova became the first woman in space aboard the Soviet spacecraft Vostok 6. Additionally, in 1982, the South Wales coalfields experienced a significant strike in support of striking health workers.
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Got about 2 hours of sleep in. Up late catching up on the blog. Tired to start with, but I had to rise to attend to the ablutions and medications. First, to wash the pots from last night’s so-called meal. I washed out the leaking fridge, which cost me half an hour. 
Went to the wet room to make a start. Porcelain Throne duties first. All over quickly, Trotsky Terence was in charge. Cleaning up, I had a fear that I may have left the hot tap running in the kitchen, and I hobbled to check on it; I HAD! Took ages to get the mess cleaned up, but no alarm sounded.

Emptied the catheter pouch.

So, there is no hot water for shaving or ablutions until teatime, and Matron Jackie is calling on me today. Bet she’ll be happy sniffing at my BO?

This is a good start. I may well beat last week’s tap-leaving-on record high. Humph!

I took the plaster and tape off of the leg wound. No bleeding, just a few electric shocks going up the leg. 
Lymphorrhea Leslie, Glaucoma Gladys and the pain from the catheter tube were the main ailments. Soon to be reassessed as more quickly as Toothache Tiffany kicked off.

The computer took three tries before it booted. And it was refusing to read the SD card.

Carer Ejaz arrived. Issued the meds. Hoovered, I remembered to ask him to empty the box and put the machine on charge. We emptied the dust box together. He took a look at the leg; no action was needed, no bleeding and not much pain. Well, I say that, but the neurotransmitters were sending electric shocks up the leg that came a bit keen.

As I was blindly trying to get the computer to boot, I thought I’d put the TV on and catch the news.
But No! As last night, the Virgin box was unlit. I faffed about to tighten the eight sockets and six power outlets. But it was useless. I’ll ask Carer Joe to assist when he comes.

Did the belated Health & Blood Checks. Okay!

Carer Joe arrived. No medications are required, but I did ask for help with the TV and the new dust magnet thingamabob.
Joe To The Rescue Again – TWICE!
Within minutes, he locates the problem with the TV and resolves it, getting it working again. Then showed me how to close the Bush TV down. I’ve forgotten now, but I’ll ask him again later… if I remember.
Then, he fitted and fluffed the Dust Magnet after showing me how to fit it up. Thanks, Joe!

I took some rare photos of the late afternoon puffer clouds. Thinking I was wasting my time in just hoping the reader would work… I got five earlier and tried to upload them… Just these three are accepted.

To the left and the City.
Straight ahead, Sherwood, Basford.
To the Right Daybrook, Arnold.

Time to get some food. Veg with peas, Lung Po sauce, and sourdough bread. I had so little sleep last night that I hope I don’t fall asleep while eating it.

Tired and frustrated again. I turned on the TV. Then, I turned off the computer to clean and apply cream to the leg injury.
The damned TV went off!
I spent a considerable amount of time trying everything I could to find the problem. I even put the computer back on, thinking that it is linked. But it made no difference. Plugs and attachments were where checked to see if they were attached. I couldn’t find a reboot button on the sender box thingy. I gave up and medicated the looking-rough right leg injury.

The area affected looked like it was spreading. No bleeding, however, but body water was leaking out of the Lymphorrhoea Linda patch where I hit in the Accifauxpas. It was soon stinging. Some blood veins were protruding in the lower leg near the ankle and on the foot. Not that I was overly concerned, as the Liberty-Global-owned Virgin Media TV going down yet again annoyed me. I put the computer back on and asked Google if Virgin Media was experiencing an outage in my area. It told me, “There have been Virgin Media supply problems in your area today”. Providing me with a list of contacts to reach out to for details.
However, a bit of good fortune and hope arrived; Carer Joe returned and, within ten minutes, had got the TV working again.
What a godsend this man, Joe, is to me.
Thank you again, mate!

I went to celebrate after Joe had departed. Taking this shot of the evening view on offer from the kitchenette window.
No idea what was causing the reflection. It looked like something blue, part of a building behind or in the clump of trees.

Vegetable stew with a hint of mushroom ketchup and a touch of basil added to the mix. I added some vegetable gravy before cooking in the microwave for 7 minutes. Added a Silesian sausage. I had a bit of a  while eating it. Hard to believe, I know! I made and put in too much gravy and decided to spoon some out of the microwave bowl…
An hour or so later, I’d retrieved the microwave dish and the stew from the kitchen floor and mopped it. I made it all again, spittingly!

I Hope Matron Calls tomorrow. Alto-Inchy tells that she will. The leg is giving me a lot of grief.

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🤎 May you find peace & contentment! 🤎
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Inchy Today: Sun 15th June: Computer Crashed!

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Erm, Grizelda, definitely!
Something else will come to me,
Hopes that may come true, antipoverty,
This will fail due to the oligarchy,
Peace, end to wars; I’d love to see,
Stop politicians from lying & dishonesty.
Love all, thick, thin or with aduncity,
Black, yellow, red, white or pinky,
Stop bullies who act asseveratingly,
Stop Starmer from killing another pensioner,
Use the NHS medically, not politically
All act agreeably, cooperatively, supportingly,
To those who struggle with disability,
I mean mentally as well as physically,
Could they have free balneotherapy?
Oligarchs adverts are pure baloney…
Sentencing rich & poor haphazardly,
Herr Starmer has great intransigency,
He lectures/talks recalcitrantly,
With inflexibility, audacity, and temerity,
Sycophantically, sanctimoniously…
Tells porkies, misleads, repeatedly,
A freebooter, hoodwinker, & flimflammer,
A Labour Party disavower & traitor,
Obvious to all, he’s a four-flusher,
A terminator, like Schwarzenegger,
A backhander-seeking scavenger,
Sausages & hostages, has he got aphasia?
I think he ought to try some tincture…
Arsenic, cyanide, or belladonna!
Of course, this Ode is only theoretical.
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I’M FINDING IT HARD TO BELIEVE HOW MANY ACCIFAUXPAS AND WHOOPSIEDAGLEPLOPS I HAVE HAD EVERY DAY FOR AT LEAST THE LAST SIXTEEN. ARGGH!

AT LEAST MAINLY
Naturally, the daily intake of Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifaupas, and frustrations joined the regular mistakes, failures, and self-loathing, as well as cursing my inability to do almost anything without dropping, knocking something over, forgetting, experiencing seizures, mind-blanks, or banging into various now-damaged pits of the sparse furniture and fittings. Accompanied today by Toothache Tiffany, Anne Gyna, Trotsky Terence on the Porcelain Throne, and the damned catheter tube yanking on poor Little Inchie, making his fungal lesion bleed & hurt. 

The computer uploaded some photos and graphics early. All good. Doing the top section went well.
Then, when I went to empty the catheter bag, I tipped it into the WC and went to the kitchen to wash the jug. This jug, which I’ve used for the last three years or so, has disappeared; it seems to have vanished.
I went back to the computer, and it was completely blank; I couldn’t get it to reboot. No need to tell you how uptight, angry and depressed I was.
I spent hours and had two Carers call whilst I was trying everything I could think of that might have gone wrong. I gave up and moped about. I made a meal; there’s no point in photographing it. I didn’t eat much anyway. Most went into the bin.

Many hours later, I tried again. Being unsure which of the many plugs were attached to which bit of software would usually have made me very weary. But not now; I thought the computer had had its time and died a valiant death after being used every single day, sometimes for 15 hours a day, by an aged thicko. It had done well to last this long. Combined with my not being able to get anyone to take a look at the problems for me and all those times I was using it while in a seizure, it deserves a medal.

Making about my fifth search for the lost urine tub (No luck), I decided to make something to eat. As I moved nearer the sink, I caught the tough skin of the ankles against a plastic sharp lid edge. Lymphorrhoea Leslie bled away, leaving some spray of blood on the kitchen floor. It’s still there; no callers noticed it. I managed to stop the bleeding and applied a large plaster over the wound, then taped it in place. It’s not a pretty job, but when I changed it for a clean one later on, it looked okay to me. Barely a scratch, really. He says bravely. Hehe!
I had to backtrack because I went astray chronologically, and I also left the hot faucet/tap running, which resulted in losing all the hot water. Well, fancy that, I’ve not done that since yesterday, Saturday! Humph!

The Carers today were Manpreet two, Joe, then Carer Rozma; no, I think it was Carer Jyoti. But then again, I am famous for getting confused. Especially when under stress and after a series of short, sharp seizures. I had a good few of them today.
I don’t know how I found the time. Tsk!

On Joe’s last call, he helped try to sort out the computer again. We tried three times, and I was ready to give up. But Joe charged a plug socket, and we tried once again. It took ages to get it to go… But amazingly, it did. We kept getting options for each effort, but we couldn’t select them. This time, it went through, and wallah! Carer Joe did it again.
Rescued Me! Saved The Day! 👍🏻🙏🏻

Naturally, I expect that the next time I try, it will not work again, so I got on with the blog. If it doesn’t go down again, I will try my best to post this blog as soon as possible.

The computer allowed me to upload two photos taken after the calamitous Blue Screen situation was sorted by Carer Joe and blind-leading-the-blind.
Then, the reader was not identified again. Grrr!

A later-than-usual photo was taken from the kitchen window. Well, it’s now gone midnight, and this snap was taken just before.
What a fantastic sight!

This one was taken just after I got the dressing on the wounded leg. (Sympathy-seeking again? Hehe!)

Better get this posted. Matron Jackie coming tomorrow, and she can come early sometimes.
This looked much worse than it was.
When I changed the plaster and cleaned
There was no bleeding at all.

Fingers crossed that the computer starts in the morning… PLEASE! If you hear nowt for a bit, it might have packed up again. Oh, fear, great fear!

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Hoping For The Best!
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