Liberty-Global Virgin Media internet Down Again! – Page 22 – Inchie Today

Inchcocksi – Thursday 6th February 2020: Turned out a 20-hour day!

We’ve been hornswoggled by the Brexit farce!

2020 Feb 06 — We’ve been hornswoggled by the Brexit farce!

Thursday 6th February 2020

Afrikaans: Donderdag 6 Februarie 2020

01:55hrs: Cripes, the Hum is intrusive this morning! When I woke and heard the noise, I was confident that something was amiss, surely this can’t be the Hum? I extracted my bulbous, wobbly, stomach-ladened body from the £300 second-hand recliner, and checked around the flat, only to find that the driving-me-mad Hum was indeed causing the noise! Humph!

Still, I’m glad I got up, cause the sudden urgent need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so off to the wet room I poddled. Taking care to leave the four-pronged stick well away from where I might trip over it, I got seated. This time things were different, back to the half-way and suffer mode of evacuation.

Which gave me time to have a mind-wander. But it wasn’t a pleasant experience, all my faults, worries and problems stormed into the brain, rattled about almost mocking me, and then as the evacuation got a bit more movement and agony replaced the pain, the thoughts left me, thank heavens. Hell of struggle, but I rid myself of the products, a little bleeding, but not messy.

At least Little Inchies fungal lesion was only trickling a few drops. The legs had got more colour and veins showing than yesterday. Arthur Itis’s knees were tight, a sign of suffering to come that is. I got cleaned-up, medicated plenty of the Phorpain gel rubbed into the joints. I’m not sure it actually does any good, but the Doctor says the massaging it in can do no harm.

Then, off to the kitchen. Where I got the kettle on, took the medications, made the tea and took a photographicalisation of the morning view, with the moon on show. Not a bad result, I took it in Night Landscape mode. I’ve put it on large here, not too bad an effort. (He says smugly. Haha!)

To the computer, and set to updating the Wednesday post. Nicodemus Neurotransmitters were not playing up much at all. That was a pleasant divergence from the norm, which I took advantage of, and had got the whole thing finished of (not many photos) in record time before they kicked off again. Also, I struggled to read my own writing. Fleeting Satisfied Mode!

The mist was clearing now. Sent off the blog, then went on the Emails to see what was what. One from the Haemostasis, TV (Thread Vein) and DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) Warfarin Anticoagulation Clinic at the Nottingham City Hospital (I do like that mouthful of a title!). From the lady who rang me last night. Her name is Debby. So now, I have the address to use to update her about the Doctors visit. There was no reply to my earlier request for an appointment or any INR results?

So I sent another email and request. Then I checked the progress of the saucepans I’ve got coming today (another day stuck indoor!) on the tracker system.

Not arrived at the distribution area yet, so I don’t know when to expect them to arrive, latish I should think. I hope the Falls-Team lady comes early, then at least I can get some stuff to the waste-chute and down to the recycling bin.

On to the TFZer Facebooking next.

Virgin Down completely now. (I’ve typed this so often, the fingers did it on their own! – Chuckle!) Today is the upgrading session, mark day 2 for Global-Liberty (Lousy) Virgin Media Internet workers. So, I half-expected things to go down.

– The Stand-up Ablutions were tackled:

Dropsies were galore! Too many. Then, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, went into turbo-drive for a few minutes, just when I was shaving. I must say, had the farce been filmed, it may well have been an award winner at the British Comedy Awards! Even I would have laughed out loud at it; just imagining it brings a smile to my face!

The razor flew to my left, falling in the tray of cleaning stuff, I grabbed at it when it landed and knocked the shaving foam from the tray. I bent down to retrieve it, razor still in hand, it (the foam) was then propelled by Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley in the other direction, where it hit the ground cupboard top, removing various, nay, nearly all of the medical tubes down the back of the cupboard! Savlon, Daktacort, Haemorrhoid cream and my emergency supply of Co-Codamols! All bar the haemorrhoid cream, which was needed for use, the others are still down there somewhere, I’ll get them later. Harrumph!

Somehow, I’d cut the back of my hand as well! Only the tiniest of cuts, but it took some stopping, I used the aftershave, that did it; it stung a bit, mind! Then, after cleaning things up, the farce of the disappearing razor?

I’ll have another search when I go to pick up the things behind the floor-cupboard. Sigh!

I had a ring of Josie’s door chimes on the way out with the rubbish bags. No answer. So, in the elevator and down with the giant-bag of rubbish. Left it near Stew’s door. Then took a photo of the Information Panel, and nipped in the lobby area, to take some pictures.

Laundry Room

Lobby

Lift lobby

Back up to the apartment. Tried Josie’s door again, no answer. Got in and got the kettle on. I tried the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, but no go, still down. So, I don’t know if I’ve had any reply from the surgery about the appointment, or the Warfarin INR level, and cannot check on the saucepans progress. Hey-Ho!

Sob!

– I thought I’d take the picker-upperer with me to get the knocked over things from the wet room… Huh! I had an involuntary (on my part!), Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance from the affected right leg, I managed to prevent myself going over, but unfortunately, it was so quick, I thought I’d got the stick with me, and used the picker to stop myself falling – it broke in half! Thankfully, I only fell against the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner! So, another picker-upperer bites the dust! RIP. Grangle-Grumps!

I really am back to enduring my usual luck again! Thanks mainly to the Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, and Stroke Stuart! At least the dance only lasted a few seconds this time.

It’s such a shame that I didn’t realise that today was when Liberty-Global was going to fail again to improve their pitiable, wretched, internet service. Then, I would have not ordered the saucepans for today. There lie’s more reasons and proof that my systematic, massive misfortunes having returned to torture, annoy, bother and piss-me-off again!

I went to try Josie’s door again, Aha! She answered! I showed her the tin of Tuna flakes with Coronation dressing, and she fancied on her Sunday lunch. So, it shall be! I hobbled to the fridge to get a can of Daniels and coke and took it for her. Well, it’s a treat, although no doubt she’d prefer the Daniels neat. Hahaha!
The Internet was still down. I wrote things down on Word, to use later. Took me a while to get it written, and as I got up to here, my door chimes rang out, to my chosen tune of Dusty Springfield’s ♫ I only want to be with you ♫, it was the Amazon delivery with the saucepans.

I checked them to see if they were made-up, or I’d have to get some help if they need assembling.

Here are the new ones, with the semi-new Crockpots behind

They were all made-up. so that was nice! I put the new frying pan in the trolley-guide bag, I’d decided to give it to the volunteers at the Social Kitchen to use. Got wrapped up warmly, and ventured out. Down in the elevator, through the link-passage, into Winwood Court, I met Angie and Roy at the foyer door, they were buying some stuff early from the bread and veg man, then catching a taxi.

Then into the big social lounge, where some residents were finishing off their Friday breakfasts. I was in a bit of a rush in case the bus came early, so I went straight to the kitchen opening window, cause they do not like my three-wheeler near the food, a lady came behind me and told me not to stand there, cause she’s trying to serve people! Fair enough, I shoved the brand new pan in her hand and told her “Here, you can have this!” The good feeling of my doing something to help, drained from me. I walked out through the Winwood foyer door and made my way to the bus shelter.

Feeling a tad miffed, but more hurt, after the pain, effort and cost, I thought I was doing something worthwhile and helpful, and the idea made me feel good. I can understand really. But as I get older, I seem to get hurt easier. No more freebies or help for them then in future. I was just trying to help out at the new kitchen volunteers, for the third time. In my current state of mind, and struggling to do everyday things, but still trying to help others, I can do without being depreciated. But bless them all for volunteering, I hope they can get some enjoyment from it.

I’m sorry Jenny was not in and wish the ILC’s had been in the office now, they could have been offered the brand-new just delivered frying pan.

I brought my spirits up a tad, by taking some photographs of Winwood Heights from the L9 bus shelter.

The bus turning Circle, cars blocking it as usual. But what choice do they have?

Ah, Angela and Roy leaving in their taxi!

I got on the bus, and out came the crossword book. I did well en route to town on the puzzles today. Swank-Mode-Adopted.

In town, I called into the Poundland Shop. Got some bits: A cheap kitchen roll, cause I’d forgotten to put one in the bag for nose-blowing use. Lavender Dettol disinfectant. Orange Kit-Kat, and some nuts.

I had a walk around, Parliament Street, Clumber Street, Long Row, Slab Square and on to Queen Street for the bus home. I’ll not put all the photographicalisation I took on here, cause there was fair lot them, I’ll do a Trip to Nottingham Special in another post with them all on.

I caught the bus back, and Bill (William on Sundays) got on further along the route. With us both being hard-of-hearing, the conversation was strained. Haha!

Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley was going at it on and off, and it made me feel like others were keeping an eye on the old man in the side-saddle seat. Hahaha!

I like Bill, a grand chap. Back at the flats, Bill held the door open for me to Winchester Court. We parted wishing each other all the bestest, and a smile. The only person I spoke to, was Herbert (Big John), doing his jigsaw puzzle in the big lounge, he’s good at them. I threw him a “Good Afternoon, you all right?” as I passed. But saw no one else, although there were a few folks about, I was not conversant with them. (Didn’t know them!)

I got up in the flat, no wee-weeing needed! I moved the mushrooms into a saucepan from the slow-cooker with the garden peas and got the new big pan filled with water for the boil-in-the-bag beef and gravy later.

I got on the computer, and Hey Presto! it was back on! Ooh, that did please me!

I go on with updating this blog, and before I knew it, the time was gone 17:00hrs!

It was getting misty outside.

I got on with creating the visit to Nottingham post. By the time I got it made and posted, I’d been up for over 18hrs! I think I’ll get the nosh done and head down next. I turned off the computer, and in a state of ultra-weariness, battled to keep my concentration as I prepared the stew.

18:55hrs: I took this snap of the evening sky, the horizon looked rather nice to me.

The new casserole saucepan was used to heat up the beef and gravy with onions. Despite my being too drained and over-ready for a kip, I ate it all with some milk bread to soak up the gravy. Hmm! Flavour Rating; 8.2/10 tonight.

I got the pots in the washing-up bowl to soak. Took another shot of the evening sky, and had a wee-wee. Settled in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.

Surprisingly, it took a while for sleep to come.

A Little Trip To Merry Nottingham – Photographically & Poetically told

I arrived on Parliament Street, greeted by the smiling populace,

A cheery smile on every face,

Oh, how I love the place,

Mind you, I had my can of Mace!

I called in the Poundland shop,

Shoplifters were arguing, having a strop,

I didn’t want to eavesdrop,

So I didn’t stop!

I notice pedestrians crossing the road against the red lights,

But all was eerily quiet, no fights,

I bloke chucked out of Burger King, what a sight!

Another chap was as high-as-a-kite!

Then two gals started a cat-fight,

I ran away, and well, I might!

Clumber Street, I rested, the knees were stinging and tight,

Along came two men, one on crutches, the other on a bike,

I told the biker, it wasn’t right,

Driving so close to me on a bike,

He told me to take-a-hike!

.

Why do folks do this, I wonder why?

Two imitation policemen stood nearby,

They said and did nowt,

Cause they have no clout,

I moved on and gave a sigh!

Long Row, above the Yorkshire bank,

1833, bet these were built with pride and swank,

But such architecture goes unnoticed, to be frank,

By youngsters, with acne and a look that is blank,

To them, workmanship & beauty is not worth a Franc!

Long Row businesses, failing so so much now,

This shop used to be Burtons food store,

Where you could buy pork, bread or a cow,

I miss it more and more,

I can still smell the meat, somehow,

Though we couldn’t afford it, we were poor!

Ah, another pavement cyclist, for short, PC, I’ll call them,

One hand on his handlebar, texting on his phone in his hand,

He even spat out some horrible phlegm!

Some say they should be banned,

But not by the Greens or Lib-Dem!

A gathering of Nottinghamians resting,

Unemployed, students, and shoplifters?

The bored, the drunks, and Brexit debaters?

Look at their faces, it’s interesting,

They all glare at me, as if they hate us!

City Centre, Long Row, and, the Slab Square,

Architecture by Fothergill Watson, who was the absolute best!

The man was a genius, with skill and flair!

Better than all the rest,

And, I’m only being fair!

Queen Street, I nearly got hit by yet another PC,

Delivering food, perhaps pizza, burgers, or a fricassee?

Maybe once again, one will run into me?

But I carry my taser, just in case you see!

This rubbish was wrote during an evil spell of the dizzies and shakes,

By Inchcock, while he ate his supper, of cheesy cakes.

I fank you!

Inchcockski – Sat 1 Feb 2020: A day of irresolution, emotionalisation, and a roller-coaster day!

Saturday 1st February 2020

Croatian: Subota, 1 Veljače 2020 Godine

02:05hrs: Well that was a better nights kip, over 5½hrs! Great! I felt like I had had a good sleep, too! Yet another fantastic morning for Inchcock!

As my functions began to come into semi-life, and the brain kick-started itself, only Arthur Itis, Saccades-Sandra, and Colin Cramps seemed to be in a bad mood. Anne Gyna, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, Dizzy Dennis etc. noticeable by their absence of botherations. I think I’m getting accustomised to these Good-Luck happenings. I liked ’em!

I manoeuvred my aged, wobbly-bellied body from the £300, c1968, rickety recliner, with the aid of the four-pronged walking stick, got up like a crippled elephant onto my feet. I availed the use of the handily-place GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), a strong flow, that didn’t last long, of the SHLSDTAT; (Starting-Hosepipe-Like-Suddenly-Dying-To-A-Trickle) variety. On my way to the kitchen, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I diverted to the wet room (Limping along nicely, I might add!)

I got there in time quickly enough, and an evacuation of almost perfect conditions followed! Apart from a little discomfort from Harold’s internal Haemorrhoids. No bleeding or trickling from Harold of Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. The legs had gained some colour as well! Some new varicose and spider veins developing, methinks.

Just so’s I don’t get too excited about things, I knocked the haemorrhoid and Daktacort tubes off of the floor cabinets while getting the jammies pulled up.

With Shaking-Shoulder-Shay jerking kicked off as I left the room, but that doesn’t bother me much, and it’s usually copeable with, doesn’t hinder the typing on the computer much. See that? More good stuff. Colin-Cramps is keeping the Ailment-Mafia’s end up, mind. A regular rubbing in of Phorpain gel is helping me cope, I think.

In the kitchen, I took a shot of the morning sky; not just any shot, but the worst I’ve ever done! Humph! Yes, the neurotransmitter’s have failed again. It is impossible to stop this, but it comes and goes. It just picked the perfect time to destroy the quality of my picture! Grumpworthiness!

I got some mushrooms and leeks in the bigger crock-pot, on low heat. Made a brew, and took the medications. I added some salt, a drop of balsamic and clear distilled vinegar later on, with some caramelised gravy.

I then moved the handwashing that was hanging drying around. Got the jammie-bottoms on the wire airer, towel on the stand-up airer and moved the shirts above the heater in the kitchen. Then, I made another brew of tea, the last one had gone cold on me.

At last, I got the computer on to update the Friday blog Very late! But at least I’d got some other jobs done this morning.

I checked on the crock-pot stew first. I’m going to add some canned stewed steak in gravy to it after I get it in the saucepan on the hob later. That’s the plan anyway.

Well, the internet started off failing to save straight away, as soon as I’d written a sentence on WordPress! And I had to do three amendments due to the neurotransmitter’s nerves playing up, still. I decided to go on the TFZer Facebooking first, as nothing was needing to be saved on that, so it might prove more productive.

Well, I was wrong again! So, I went back to doing the updating of the Friday post, again! Much correctionalisationing was needed, and the internet also slowed me down, along with the neurotransmitter’s nerves. So very Agravannoying!

I popped in to check on the slow-cooker again. After yesterdays burnt offering, I was still a touch nervous of a repeat performance. No bother, though, the pots, onions and leeks were looking good and cooking rather swiftly.

Back to the computerisationing, and got the Friday diary finished, but it was well gone 06:00hrs by that time! Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating!

So, has my scintilla of good-luck come to an end? I suppose so! At this thought, I checked on the cooking again. All was okay, I transferred the food to the large saucepan, made and added son caramelised gravy to it, and stirred it in well. Then cleaned the large crock-pot and lid. They don’t half get dirty, don’t they? Took me ages and a lot of effort to get it looking something like alright!

Back on the computer, and my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-law Pete, called on the landline. Pete, the same age as wot I am, a bit older actually. Who still has his hair, is handsome. Much loved by the ladies. Is fit, capable, not lost his memory, is a mechanical and electrical genius too. The one that retired fifteen years early. Can’t blame him after his big wins on the pools then the lottery. Then, when he was left a fortune by an unknown relative. So, he invested in off-shore accounts, the stock-exchange, bought a new car and retired. Jealous? Me? We had a good chinwag, Sister Jane was dining out with her friends in Nottingham. I told him I was looking for a name to give for my Shaking Shoulder, and he suggested Shane, so it will be! Rings nicely, Shaking-Shoulder-Shane! Hehe!

We had a good gossip and laugh. But he had to go, Sister Jane was checking up on him again. Haha! Nice of him to ring, mainly to mention that I missed his birthday. I nearly told him to keep the money he stole from the flat and didn’t return while I was in the hospital from the stroke. But I didn’t. I understand getting cash out of the Scottish Widows European Back-Hander Fund is not easy!

I did some work on this blog and then went to make a fresh brew. Pete has mentioned the beautiful clouds at his posh-end of Nottingham, and I saw how picturesque they were.

I put the kettle on and went to open the unliked, unwanted, thick-framed, light and below-view-blocking window to take photographicalisation of the sky… The howling wind blew the window in and clouted me on the forehead, knocked the glasses of my head. And flung the t-shirt that was hanging there, right across the room. With the coathanger managing to hit my ear-hole as it went by! The mysteries of 72 Woodthorpe Court, the illusions, delusions, hallucinations, infestations, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and manic machinations that thrive here freely, are bountiful!
Just thought I’d mention it.

I must try to get some graphics done, even though it’s beyond my usual head-down time. But no, only one ‘Thought’ done, and the fatigue set in.

I went to get the stew meal sorted and prepared. First, I just had to take a couple more photographs of the sky view, with the sun still trying to get its heatless, cold beam on earth. Bootiful!

I moved the mish-mash of leeks, potatoes, mushrooms and garden peas, from the crock-pot into the saucepan. Added some tinned beef in gravy to the mix, and out some more balsamic vinegar in. Stirred it well, tasted a spoonful, then made some gravy, and that was mixed in too.

While it heated up again, I washed the slow-cooker pot and casing. What a horrible, messy, time-consuming job! Cut my finger, dropped the rag, spilt water all over the sink. Dangwangles!

Got the things back on the counter, and made an orange spring water drink to take the medications with. I had a view of outside as I took the tablets, and down by the bottom of my sadly, much-missed tree copse, I could see people going over to something left at the foot of the hill. I zoomed in to see what it was. A tribute, possibly from a funeral, left as you can in. I wondered sadly if I will ever get fit enough to visit the copse again. I used to love going through and just stopping at times, to almost talk to the trees, and smell nature. I lovely gesture I think, putting this where presumably, the deceased used to stroll him or herself? Heartwarming, but depressing on a personal level, at the thought of my never being well-enough to visit it again! Maybe one day, with someone with me, I’d like to try.

I pulled myself out of my self-pity mode, to find the pan of ‘Inchcock imitation Stew’ was bubbling over! Oh, Gawd! More cleaning up and washing to do! Humph!

I got the meal served up and pondered on what I’d actually put in it. Potatoes, mushrooms, leeks, black Iberico tomatoes, garden peas in rich gravy… and the seasoning! Well, sea salt, balsamic vinegar, distilled vinegar and beef stock. Sounds a bit of a risk, but it smelt nice. Hehehe!

I ate it all up, with a flavour rating of 7.5/10 given.

Dropped the dish and things in the bowl to soak, and got down to watch a DVD.

ZZZ!

Inchcock Today: Frid 31 Jan 2020: Ailments easier, luck not so bad… Humph! Just burnt my dinner! Big Mouth me!

Friday 31st January 2020

Latvian: Piektdien, 2020 Gada 31 Janvārī

01:00hrs: Woke, with memories of a dream I’d had floating about in the grey-cells. But they soon left, and all I knew was, the nocturnal mind-wanderings were of a likeable nature, but not the foggiest of any details, remained. Tsk!

Moments later, summoning from the inwards, advised me to hasten to the Porcelain Throne. So, I did. Which proved to be and up and down visitation. The evacuation went well enough, not too painful or messy, but it took a while and some effort.

During this, I had a go at the crossword book. And dropped it when the neurotransmitters failed in the finger-ends. I used the picker-upper to retrieve the book. I creased the pages in doing so. When I got it in my hand, a page with some of my scribble on it was on top. I’d written something about my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete; I think I wrote it when I was in the Acorn home, recovering from the stroke, so out of interest, I read it. It related to Pete visiting me there. And suddenly it dawned… I’d missed his birthday! Well, I can expect him to raid the flat again now! Hehe! He might even arm one of his drones and send it over! I must apologise to the lad. Sorry, Pete, me old mate, catch you later, I hope, Sir. I do feel a right schlemiel! I blame my doing that housework yesterday. (Red-face and shame growing!)

I took a rinse and wiped the contact surfaces, and off to the kitchen to make a brew. I took the medications.

Then got on with updating the Thursday blog.

But it was a nightmare with the amazingly crap service provided by the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, making things take several times longer than it should have. And yet yesterday, it was reasonably decent? In fact, it was to start with for the first fifteen minutes?

After about half-an-hour at it, the wee-weeing started, and it’s not stopped yet! Each and everyone was of the SSPAOQ (Short-Sharp-Painless-All-Over-Quickly) variety. But most frequent. I reckon that I must have dished the beta-blocker, in error for the Furesomide tablet! Thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for letting me down and failing to remove the Furesomide from the blister-packs in my prescriptions, as Nurse Leoni had asked you to do, and you said you would, but didn’t! She asked you again last week, and another prospectively worthless promise was received that you would on the next allocation. I hope you do get it right this time, bearing in mind you are classed amongst the top three Chemists in Nottingham by the Yell.co company. It’s only after talking with other old folks in the flats where I live about the problem that many have told me of their complaints about Boots, Llyods, and the Late Night Chemists in Sherwood. You all seem unreliable. So, how come you are in the top three? You used to be so caring, efficient, and reliable, too. Shame, a shame I can’t leave and use another pharmacist. And Boots and Lloyds are about to charge £10 per delivery.

I really went off the plot there, didn’t I? Sorry, but the annoyance of Mr Fries Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, and the suffering that Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA have put me through, gets to me sometimes, mainly when they both cause problems for me at the same time!

Now, my Grammarly keeps changing to US English, and I am so pissed-off!

As I gave up on the web and closed everything down, the landline rang out. It was Sister Jane to tell me I had forgotten Pete’s birthday. Oh, dear! ‘Trouble ‘t Mill!” I didn’t mention that I forgot my own last year! After all the help, the lad’s given me over the stroke, too. Oh, ecky thump!

I got the ablutions sorted out. The legs looked mighty fine! Dropsies that I can remember; Shaving Razors (4) Shaving cream. Teeth; toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash bottle. Showering: Showerhead, soap (3), sponge, and back-brush. Then another toe-stubbing against seat raiser. The sock-glide battle; that I had been mastering of late. Left me with a piece of the nail removed on the thumb, and a bruise on the knuckles. Also, I clouted my elbow on the sink edge, getting my trousers on! Now that’s more like me!

I felt almost happy about it! Sad, I know, but that happens to be how I think, good luck is unusual but pleasant. However, not as reliable or frequent as a good dose of my injurious calamities and failures are!

I tended to the handwashing next. A few bits needed doing, and I made a right mess of the kitchen in doing so. I was a smidge irked by having to clean the flipping floor again after doing it yesterday. A few quiet mutterings of a curseful nature were uttered. But overall, I remained in a decent enough mood with myself and the world.

When I’d got the clothes done, rung and hung, then the beep-beep hook on the coathanger with the jammie-bottoms hanging on it suddenly detached itself! And again water found its way onto the floor I’d just cleaned again! More foul language was silently-voiced, with one word coming out aloud, beginning with F!

I took a snap of the view from the unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking new kitchen windows. It looked like some rain is on the way. Pretty in a way, though. No, that’s not the word to describe it! More like, erm… I don’t know now, the name just departed my brain and off into the ether? Humph!

I got dressed and all ready for a bus ride to Sherwood. After double, treble checking things, especially the potatoes in the new small cooker, lights taps, etc. I departed. I rang Josie’s bell on the way out, but no answer.

Down and along the link-passage to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators), Wardens to us, Holding Cell office. A quick nip in and handed the nibbles out. All done in thirty-seconds, and off into the Winwood Court Social Lounge. Only one person in there, a Nottingham City Homes agent. There was a lot of them arrived today. Including the Nottingham City Homes Generalfeldmarschalless Housing Patch Manager/Catwalk Model, Angela Gould.

I got the crosswording tackled for fifteen minutes or so, did well today. Then forced the reluctant Arthur Itis’s knees to let me stand up again, and off to the Winchester Court foyer. Had a natter with Margaret, Mary, and some other tenants, then, out to the bus stop.

Got the L9 down to Mansfield Road, took a photo to the right, then the left.

I limped down to the left, to the Azam store, the one with the lime window shades, to search for some fruit and veg. But, oh, what a selection of old food at top prices they had on offer! I turned around and back up the hill and tried the Co-op shop. They had some Cox’s apples, not cheap, but they looked okay, a bag of small potatoes, a wholemeal bread thins, and some mushrooms.

I paid at the self-serve tills without any problems. Then out and crossed over at the traffic light, to go to Abdul’s shop with the Post Office in it, to get some Puff Pastry fingers.

The shop that was a Bingo and entertainment establishment had been graffitied. But not by good skilfull ones.

As I took this photo, a young Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist came by, and gave the evil eye and said something, but I could not hear what it was he said. Then casually plodded on up the hill, with his hands in his pockets, not on the handlebars.

I got to Abdul’s and got a packet of the fingers and a pack of jam tarts, £1 each. I met Welsh William at the check out ahead of me. He held the door open for me as I followed him out. We had a chat on my way to the bus stop, and he diverted into the bookies. That’s William in the light blue jacket shooting off for a flutter on the gee-gees, I imagine.

I carried on to the bus shelter, just as the rain came down heavier. Good timing! Some tenants of the flats, unknown to me by name and I had a chinwag for a while, as the bus came a little late today. But it wasn’t cold with it like it has been these last couple of days. The rain seems to have scattered the local populace.

Back at the flats, I was off the bus last as usual, to avoid banging into anyone or getting hit about. One of them waited to hold the door open for me, bless the gentleman! I did my best to catch up with them for a natter, but they were already at the end of the passage near the swipe door, by the time I entered the corridor. William was leading the charge.

I got the few things purchased put away and began to formulate what to have for today’s nosh with the new potatoes. Which incidentally were ready to go now, in the crock-pot. So I moved them in with the garden peas in the saucepan.

Then, I got the computer on and downloaded the photos to Coreldraw for resising. Then, with a certain nervousness, I restarted the Libert-Global internet and made a mug of tea, while I waited to restart hopefully.

It was just the same as before, no change. It seems to be cutting out every few minutes, but only for a few seconds, then coming back on? But, it seems, only on WordPress this time? Unless its just the timing?

I went on Facebook to test that out on the TFZers page. Got loads of photos on. But some moving pictures set Saccades-Sandra off, and now the Dizzies are back. So I’ll get the nosh made and settle down to try and rest a while.

Head cleared now, and I nodded-off (beyond my usual head-down time now) for a few minutes, I woke and went to sort the meal out.

Oh, flippin’ ‘eck! The potatoes were slightly burnt! The leeks had disappeared altogether! Thank heavens I warmed the garden peas in another pan! The saucepan had to be put down. I said a few words over it as I washed it and put it in its final resting place, the rubbish bag. A sad event, cause this saucepan had lasted longer than any other in the depths of the Whoopsiedangleplops, and the cursed Accifauxpas mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court kitchen. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! It was a veteran; it lasted the course without any damage for four months! Frogglemoths! I managed to clean the lid and kept it, in memory of the devoted pans loyalty, he’s not had an easy life, something I could empathise with.

However, I still ate the potatoes, not the black bits, mind. The feast was enjoyed, with a tinge of sadness for the saucepan. Hehehe!

Pork & mushroom pate, the lucky-not-go-the-same-way as the potatoes garden peas, an apple, a black tomato, beetroot, and the well-tasty potatoes! Lemon curd yoghourt for afters, with a bottle of fresh orange juice. A flavour-rating of 7/10.

Then, I went to get the pots washed. I returned to the junk room mark 2, got settled in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, yucky-grungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.

I got the TV on and noted that channel 81 on Freeview, a film, Crooks in Cloister was about to start. It rang a distant bell in my mind, so I decided to watch it… I nodded-off into slumberland as it was beginning. Not only that, but I slept for about 5½ hours uninterrupted!

Inchcock Today: Wed 29 Jan 2020 -Worra busy day. I nearly enjoyed it though! Hahaha!

Wednesday 29th January 2020

Frisian: Woansdei 29 Jannewaris 2020

23:52hrs: I transformed into semi-life status, and responded to the need for a wee-wee hastily, for it was an urgent need! Raising my wobbly, over-stomached body-mass from the second-hand, £300 recliner and taking the stick and few paces to the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with ease. I had an SFDBFF (Started-Firm-Determined-But-Faded-Fast) style evacuation. No demands for a Porcelain Throne came?

I got to the kitchen, cleaned and sanitised the bucket. Took the medications, and made a brew of Glengettie tea, to ease my brain hopefully, into some sort of mental action. It seemed to work! For after a good gulp of the deep-amber fluid, I remembered that the food delivery was coming early, twixt 07:00 > 08:00hrs. I decided to make sure I got the ablutions done sooner than usual as well! Then, as I hobbled carefully back to the computer dump room, I recalled that today was the Bank Manager’s visit appointment!

As I settled and got the computer on to update the blog, I noted how well things were going this morning, up to now anyway. The attentions of Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, and even Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun were all minimal! Only Saccades-Sandra and a few tremors and shakes from the peripheral neuralgia arm and shoulder were of any real worry-worthiness. Even the toothache seemed less painful? That’s something else; when I go to see the bank manageress, I must call at the dentists to make an appointment.

I felt almost semi-contented as booted up the computer. It didn’t last for much longer! First, I realised that the right-hand fingers Neurotransmitter nerves were bad, and knew this would mean difficulties in typing. But before I got a chance to find out properly, the famously pathetic and unreliable Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, let me down again!

I got some potatoes and mushroom in the slow-cooker for later. Just seasoned with salt this time. Ah, the internet was back on!

I struggled on with the blogging update. Which was one of the easiest for months, as I was stuck-indoors again yesterday, so only a few photographs to sort out, plus, I’d stayed up later than usual, so it was virtually finished when I started it – Does that make sense? Anyway, it kept going off so often, and I had to just press on until it returned on its own. What a palava! But I did get it finished and posted off, hours after starting it, though!

I needed to make a template for this post. The CorelDrawing bit was fine, but getting the template made up on WordPress was a grind-and-a-half with the internet failing so often, for periods of a minute, three minutes back on, and off again… Arghh!

I went on the TFZer Facebooking, that was a bind too. Thanks to Mr ‘I don’t-know-what-I’m-doing, but still, I get paid a fortune’ So I’m not bothered, Fries! Swine! Mafia minded bully and incompetent, mob-backed merchant! Probably not true, but how else does such an arrogant, unskilled pillock like that, keep his job?

I made a start on this blog but gave up. Too much like hard-work, thanks, Mr Fries! The farcical Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet came last month to do some upgrading, that made things worse than before. They are coming again on Feb 6th to try again. Phwert!

I put the handwashing in soak and went to get the stand-up ablutionalisationing done. Apart from around five shaving cuts, and about four dropsies, all went well. Even the Sock-Glide battle (I think I’m mastering the thing now!) Smug-Mode-Adopted!

Got smelly with sprays, dressed and went to get the handwashing. All done, rung and hung. That Amazon long sleeve t-shirt that was chocolate brown when I bought it, turned to green on the first wash, and is now a sort of olive-dark blue colour, Tsk!, has still got that stain on the front. I must have spilt some bleach on it. Humph!

So, no toe stubbings, no Dizzy Dennis’, Shaking Shaun was still about, but not so interested in me as he was earlier.

Still, there are no Porcelain Throne attentions called for? Mmm?

I went to the kitchen and decided to take a couple of photographicalisations from the unwanted, disliked, anti-photographer, and deaf people designed with wide ledges to stop me seeing what is below and taking a snap. Or, see if any emergency vehicles are on-site, due to me not hearing the Fire Alarm.

The sun kept trying to come out but went in and hid when it came to my picturing the view. Coming out the moment I’d put the camera away! Huh!

I sorted the black bags and took them to the waste chute. Then returnedReadies, black bags down to chute. Back to the flat, and dithered about, convinced that something had not been done yet. A general feeling of anaemia reigned.

It took me a long while trying to sort out what it was that was niggling at me. And then I didn’t find it! I had the Bank paperwork, card, bus-pass, hearing aids in the lug-holes, the right glasses on the head, alert bracelets on the wrists, Warfarin card in pocket, money, sourdough bread for the ILCs, medications taken, Calendar checked for appointment time at the bank (In fact they sent me text reminding me of the 10:00hr attendance and punctuality needed – Read later, a farce!), crossword book in the trolley… Oh, what the heck is it?

But I had to accept defeat. Wrapped up warmly, and then the farcical double-checking started. To reassure myself and verifying that all in the apartment was left safely.

Out to ask Deana if the kitchen volunteers wanted the new extra-large crock-pot or not. No message has been sent back from anyone who had been received when I offered yesterday morning. I also had a treat for them, of the Polish sliced sourdough bread. They love it, and I love being able to treat them when I order anything from Ocado, who, as far as I know, is the only place that sells it. A little thank you.

I departed, still feeling uneasy, thinking about whatever it was I thought had not been done or taken with me. Humph!

When I got in the lift, I found a damp t-shit on the deck in the cage. Obviously, some poor soul had dropped it when returning from the laundry room. So, I pucked it up and shook off the bits from the floor attached to it, and hung it on the handrail. I hope they find it later. Just my sort of antics to get up to!

When I got to the Winwood Heights Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Wardens and Lap-Top Dancers Interrogation Office, but no one answers my knock.

So I went to the big social lounge and had a go at my crossword book for a bit. I got involved in the puzzle and nearly forgot the time, I had to rush a little to get to Winchester Courts lobby. Where some tenants were waiting in the warmth for the bus. I handed out some nibbles, and we nattered and laughed a little, as I accepted the put-downs and touches of sarcasm in good spirit.

A big crowd at the shelter this morning. Angela & Roy, Penny, Shirley, Mary, Margaret, Doris, Louie, Welsh William, the snotty bloke from Woodthorpe Court, and others. Note how I remembered so many names there? Smug Mode adopted.

I good chinwag with Margaret on the few bus-stops down Winchester Street, where I dropped off the bus with Angela and Roy. We all went into the bank. Angie and Roy got served first, and I waited my turn. The appointment time passed by. No signs of anyone interested in me. Angie and Roy may have had a query of some sort because they were escorted into the office where my meeting was supposed to have been.

I kept poddling about the place with the trolley-walker, to keep the knees from stiffening, for fifteen minutes or so. When the pair came out of the office and passed me on the way out, Angela said she was sorry for messing up my appointment and keeping me waiting, bless her. I replied, “Thank you, it just shows how lucky my life is!” She did laugh!

The Local Banker, Washeeda Hashmi, came to collect me. My EQ saw pound-signs on legs! Which proved to be right! As we walked to the office, she apologised for keeping me waiting. With a broad grin, I answered; Yes, I suppose they have bigger assets and investments than me?” She smiled, cocked her head to one side and said, “Well, yes” and her grin broadened. Ah, a sense of humour, I liked that!

First, the lady was advised by me of my medical situation, and I started by asking her about the second account, asking why the interest had been cut by 50%. I received what sounded like gobbledegook and ended up more confused than before I’d asked the question. But, she changed something or other, and the interest was, all 1.5%, was restored, but in a new different account? High finance, not my easiest of topics for me to get a grip on!

Then the sales pitch came. Did I want to increase my cover in the event of losing my money? How much do I pay for my current house-contents insurance? I was given her card to call or pop in to see her when the coverage is due to be renewed. Name, tel number, she works Mopn Tue Weds only, I must ring her, she might be able to offer a better deal. Is your funeral arranged yet? ‘Yes!’

Then I inquired about the new cashcard and what is needed to be done. She patiently explained things and even went out with me to the cash-point to ‘Enable’ or was it ‘Actuate’, the card for me. I asked if I could draw some cash, to be sure the card was now operational. “No problem,” she said. But the machine would not accept the card! She looked embarrassed, and I felt baffled! We went back inside, and the card was used at the counter, and it worked! Phew!

I thanked her and made my way out onto Mansfield Road, nonplussed, foggier-headed, and somewhat more perplexed than I did when I entered the bank.

Up the hill to the bus stop. Things worked out well timing-wise, two-minutes later, the L9 to Arnold arrived.

I had another bash at the crosswording en route. I got off on Front Street, right near the Asda store, and went in to have a look at their slow cookers on offer. I managed to avoid the dangerously driven mobility scooters and got into the shop. They had a range of small crock-pots on sale.

From which of course, making my mind up which one to buy, took a lengthy spell of ditherisationing. I ended up selecting the smallest on offer. Only £14, 1.5L size. They had several 1.8L ones that were even cheaper to buy. But this smaller one will suit my needs, I hope, anyway.

Now, I was struggling a bit in getting around the store with the box and the three-wheel-walker-guide. I limped around and ended up at the check-out with; The crock-pot, pack on mini-Swiss rolls, some potatoes, and chopped leeks. Paid the helpful gal on the till, who also helped me load the bag, and even put it on the trolley handle for me. Thank you, petal!

Now, with the two bags on the walker-guide, one with the cooker in it, I poddled unsteadily out onto Front Street. The alarm went off as I left the store through the tag recognisers, from the cooker most likely. But no one came to check on me. It seemed eerily free of cyclists, pedestrians, beggars, and mobility scooters out there!

I pondered over my next move. There were about twenty-five minutes before the bus was due. So, I went down and over the road, to have a look in the Fultons Foods shop, to get some garden peas with the ring-pull openers if they had any in. I ambled stumblingly (the balancing of the bags was not easy, with the one with the cooker in it sticking out and catching things. Tsk!) to the crossing, and over the road to the shop. I came out with three for-a-pound tins of peas, Hills Shorties biscuits, and two pots of lemon cheesecakes.

I made my way to the bus stop, and Mary was sat sitting there in the shelter. There was still ten-minutes or so until the bus was due. We had a good nattering session, during which Mary showed an interest in having the gigantic slow-cooker. Well, being as no one had let me know it the Winwood Court kitchen could use it, I said she could have it.

No crosswording on the route back to the flats. There was no room with the two bags and trolley bag full, it took all my concentration to stop the useless brakes-applied guide from shooting off each the bus went around a corner or braked sharply. But Mary and I managed a tete-e-tete, though.

We got back to Winwood Heights, and I dropped the sourdough bread off in the warden’s office. No mention of the giant-crock-pot being needed, so I dropped off the loaf and told Mary she could have it straight away. We ambled to Woodthorpe Court and up in the lift, Maty getting off on the first floor, and saying she would be up for the cooker soon. No problem, I say’s, and I carried on up to the twelfth floor and got inside.

I had a bit of bother getting the bags in, but did it okay. Emptied out the trolley and carriers, and was setting up the new cooker, as Mary arrived. She took the cooker, asked how much, I said ‘Nowt’, she thanked me and shot off with it.

I put the fodder away. Then got the new pot set-up next to the other semi-new biggerer one.

Which, of course, meant I now have to find room to put all the stuff I had to move away off of the counter-top, to avoid them being near the heat of the crock-pots when in use!

I’ll have to keep an eye on the control settings being used. They are different from each other. Fingers crossed I don’t cock it up!

I got the pots and mushrooms out of the larger crock-pot and made up the evenings meal. Pork pie meat, a Natoora black Iberico tomato, beetroot, garden peas, chestnut mushrooms, new potatoes and a sliced Cox’s apple. A lemon curd yoghourt and drink of fresh orange juice with it. Rated at 8.2/10 for flavour. Even the tomatoes, which were meaty tasting, although they were Spanish. I enjoyed that!

The washing up was done. Cleaning the large slow-cooker took longer than everything else put together! Glad I’ve got the new smaller one for tomorrow, at last.

I put the computer on to add to the calendar, and the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet was working okay?

Put the TV on, and after an hour or so of nodding-offs and wakenings, I gave up and turned the telly set off.

Then, the brain-storming began! Fears, worries, past-faults, heebie-jeebies, psychasthenia, and insecurity all flowed and churned inwardly.

It was ages before I hibernated for the evening. Hey-ho!

Inchcock Today: Tuesday 28th January 2020: Oddlymost indoors day!

Tuesday 28th January 2020

Tuesday 28th January 2020

01:10hrs: I stirred, thought about a dream I’d been having. Coughed, passed-wind, listened to the World Famous ‘Hum’ as loud as ever, and was immediately annoying and weed-off. “That’s a good start to the day!” I thought. Then the innards started movements of a worryingly dynamic nature. A hectic, but injury-free scramble to the wet room began. No signs of nocturnal nibbling spotted.

My timing was perfect (I’m glad I rushed, though!), the instant I was on the Porcelain Throne, things started. But it was a long hard slog. For after a second or two, much effort was needed. The cistern struggled, needing two flushes to clear things. On the wonderfully bright-side, there was no bleeding, and things were not messy. Washed disinfected and off to the kitchen.

Where a shock awaited me when I went to make a brew. I thought I’d fill-up the Glengettie tea-bag pot. After a long search, there was none to be found! So I did an Ocado order for some more. I got some Thompsons Punjana as well.

I got the medications taken, then started to update the Monday diary! It took me three and a bit hours, but with soo many photographs to sort out, this was not too long at all. The right-side neurotransmitters were not bad at all this morning. Colin Cramps had replaced them as the worse offender. Surprisingly, in the left hand, only fingers? Heck of a painful job to get them straightened up at times. At least, annoying as this was, it was far preferable to the nerve-end failures, so I looked on the bright side.

Towards the end of updating…

Then…

Most aggranoying! This stopping and starting continued for the rest of the day. Taking the pleasure away from the Internet for me. Most importantly, it cost me far to much time and delayed things getting done. Thank you. Mr Fries! (Blumpherations!)

I managed to get the post finished, and my patience tested to the full.

I went to make another mug of tea, and the sky looked beautiful. I couldn’t take a decent shot, cause the camera was on charge. So I got the old little battery one, and took three shots, and linked them together, then trimmed them. As I went to take another photo, the camera died a death! I buried it in the recycling bag, saying a few words in memorisation. Haha! I levelled and cut them.

I tended to the ablutions. Only a couple of dropsies this time. (Razor (2), flannel) It went well overall, and the Sock Glide was tamed!

The legs looked better, I thought. The mystery bleeding from the overnight appeared spots and blotches, were drying-up nicely.

But the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, was really crap today! Even for them!

Forever getting this sign up. Ha! it just came up again, two minutes after the last one!

I think they should change the name from Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet to Mission Impossible Internet! Gerrangulations!

The sweet, highly desirous Nurse Christina should be here soon, I hope, to take my blood.

I went on the WordPress Reader. Gave up on Libert-Global internet.

Got the handwashing done, wrung and hung!

Sunshine, in the form of Nurse Christina, bucked me up as she arrived to take my blood. She let me take her photo, in the balcony, bless her. I wish I’d got a printer now! Humph!

After she had left, I went on TFZer Facebooking. But it was hard work with the net going down so often.

I tried to clean the oven, but too painful getting at it.

Then another summoning to the Porcelain Throne. A lot easier performance this time. Which was nice, cause I expected the same problems again.

Fatigue and weariness dawned, so I got some chips in the oven, I’ll have to eat the short-dated mini pork pies again. (Snigger!)

Gawd how tired I suddenly feel!

Got the nosh done, a quick job, I didn’t fancy falling asleep eating again. Some mini pork pies, truffle fries and caramelised onion relish. An apple and lemon curd dessert for afters. Quick, little washing up to do. I was soon in the recliner eating it and ate the lot.

But although I expected to nod-off, it took me longer than for ages, to get to the land of bliss. Don’t know why.

Inchcocksi: Saturday 25th January 2020: Defcon 3, messy!

Saturday 25th January 2020

Afrikaans: Saterdag 25 Januarie 2020

23:55hrs: Another flipping disturbed sleep. The constant dreams! It peeves me so that I cannot recall much of them. Other than they all involved my working days happenings, cock-ups, mistakes etc. were relived, but with a different outcome… I think. When I had to get up (yet again) to go for a wee-wee, (They were all of the LHNPOS (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Pain-Or-Sensation) variety, I decided I might as well stay up.

“Morpheus, sweet Morphius, please return to me – Please! I’ll be moaning in three or four days, about me falling asleep on the bus or Throne! Hehehe!

I got the stick and went to the kitchen, to take the medications and make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea.

Then I opened the Amazon bag and got the new coat out to try it for size. It was supposed to be XXL but was just a bit tight. When I saw the ‘Made in China’ label, this explained things a bit. I took off the hood, so I could keep it somewhere that I will not remember when I need it. Phwerp! It was lovely and warm, with six pockets for me to lose things in.

Most importantly and the reason I paid so much for it, it was long enough to cover-up the signs on my wearing the PP’s. The main worry was the delicate but stiff working zip, fingers crossed on that! I put it on a hangar, in the hope that the creases from it being wrapped tightly and squashed in transit, might fall out.

With no demand for the Porcelain Throne yet, I got on the computer, no point in going to have a wash and disturb the neighbours at this ridiculous hour. I started to update the Friday blog. During which, I got the hiccups for about an hour and a half. Why though, I just don’t know.

But I did recognise, that Arthur Itis, after yesterdays bad sessions, was all calm again? But there were tweaks of movement from the Peripheral Neuropathic right side leg. I felt sure that a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing session was soon to affect me, even my EQ warned me If I read him correctly – their’s no words, just emotion like feeling from him. I can’t understand or learn from him a lot of the time, but he’s rarely wrong). Bonkers? Me?

Later, the shoulder and arm-shaking started, but the finger-ends neurotransmitters were not too bad at the moment. The wee-wees all the same type, have been regular. I might have got a Furesomide taken by mistake for a Codeine 30g or Beta-blocker, with all three of them looking the same clour, size and shape, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store).

This is why, about 4-5 weeks ago, Nurse Leoni (Medicines Management Team) phoned Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store) pharmacy for me. Told them not to put the Furesomides in the blister-pack, because they are taken on an as-needed, ad-hoc basis.

But, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store) who assured Leoni they would in future be sent in packets, failed miserably and dispatched them in the blisters again. This should have annoyed me, well, it did at the time. But I couldn’t get too worked up about it, because Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store) delivered my medications five days late last month, and I had no Furesomides, Beta-blockers or Codeine to counter the pain I was in for those five days.

No apologies from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store). And to think, that ‘Yell’ (Yellow Pages) on the web, class them as one of the top three chemists in Nottingham! Astounding in the extreme, Troppo!

There must be some dangwangling, ‘Not-exactly-fair’ business practices going on here?

I began this post off. Then went to open the Crock-pot box. It was ginormous! Far too big for me to use. A family size one, for sure.

I had a proper struggle to get it out of the box. I then pondered on who to give it to. I’ll have to buy a smaller one.

I put the cooker on the kitchen-top. As you see by the picture, it ain’t gonna fit! It will have to squash things to get it in under the wall cupboard, and the heat of five or six hours simmering is going to be too dangerous for me. Nope, disappointing as it is, I will not risk using it. Tsk! It’ll have to go!

A proper shame that. I was going to do some mushrooms and tomatoes. But on a closer look at the Dutch tom’s, they were all seeping, with skins cracked and black spots coming up to the surface on them! Well, EQ did warn me! So it didn’t matter as much, now. But my idiocy still wrangled me!

I went all coy and ashamed. Suddenly badly depressed. I didn’t know whether to cry, commit hari-kari, lambast my own stupidity in not checking when I bought the slow-cooker, or just sob for a bit! Tsk! What a pathetic, stupid nayfish I am. Oy-oy-oy! Goodnight! As my spirits sank, a massive, moody moroseness, of mammoth-magnitude, made me melancholy and sulky!

As I began to go on the TFZer Facebooking… Oh, crap!

More time lost! I’d been up and about for eight-hours. And with no sleep, and the hassle with the cooker-cock-up I’d made, and now the internet, and still having some graphics to make up, downhearted and a lack of interest came over me.

When it came back on, the internet was very slow and kept having freezing moments. Which took the pleasure away from my TFZing!But I spent many hours on CorelDraw doing a couple of templates in readiness, a slog!

Feeling rough now. But hungry, which is not to be unexpected (that’s not grammatically correct is it? Or is it?), with not eating last night. Chilli-Beans with black bean sauce, pork slices and some bacon. And few slices of slightly stale Milk Roll bread.

While I was preparing the meal, as the brain drifting off into a meandering, thought-Storm of confusion, the ET came into communication with me. His message was short and sharp. “Expect a shock, soon!” But being as I am always doing this, as a natural part of by resilience building, Huh! I ignored him.

I got the nosh finished, served up, and tucked into. The black bean sauce weakened the chilli flavour, which suited me down to the ground. I blame Morrison’s, for substituting my curry beans with the Chilli ones!

A flavour rating of 7.2/10 was granted.

After eating, I decided I had better get the washing up done. Maybe to assuage my guilt with the Crock-Pot farce? When the pot-cleaning was done, I lifted the bowl to tip out the water so as to wipe it dry… Within seconds I had, soapy wet jammies and socks, the cabinets had running suds down them, the floor was awash, and all due to an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance from the right leg! To add to the misery, I kicked the four-pronged walking stick over, and the handle part fell on my left foot corn! Somehow, I knew that this incident was not what EQ was warning me about! That is to be revealed, yet, if at all.

I cleaned everything up (I think), and changed the jammie-bottoms with my other pair, and hun the old ones to dry. Then, my enthusiasm, will-power and energy drained, I got settled very early into the £300, second-hand, cringingly beige-coloured recliner. Although I was sure I would not be able to stay awake to watch it, I still put on DVD, ‘Hello I’m Alan Partridge’ Well fatigued, I drifted of within minutes.

After another dream involving my past failures and embarrassments, and I can recall bits of this. I put (in the daymare) “I shall not disclose these events, they were private and of a nature that was not revealable to avoid more embarrassment for me” The internet went crazy with people for all over the world demanding I tell all? I can’t recall, but I’m sure I did not do so. Hehe! Worra lucid, real-feeling dream!

I woke up and wrote some scribbled notes about the dream on my pad. Then, looked at the clock, it showed 3:30, for a while I thought it was in the morning, and I’d slept for over 12 hours! A moment or to later I acclimatised my brain (as much as is possible) and realised I had only been akip for two hours, and it was the afternoon. The day being so dark fooled me. (A searched for excuse, Haha!)

Then I saw that the DVD was still playing, (Or I’d hit the remote that lay between my legs and turned it back on) so turned it off, and considered getting up to do the handwashing. But nodded off again, and this time it was for nine-hours or so! I woke at midnight!

Inchcock Today – Sunday 12th January 2020: A querulous, unsettling day.

Sunday 12th January 2020

Welsh: Dydd Sul 12fed Ionawr 2020

23:00hrs: I woke, with a frustrationalisticness, due to my not being able to recall the dream I’d been having, but had the idea that I wanted to, so I could mention it on this blog. Ah, well, no idea what it was about!

I lay for a short while, considering my few remaining options in life. My bucket list, and needs, hopes and inspirations. Plans for the future. Desires and needs! This took me about two minutes!

I began to reluctantly wrench out my dilapidated, somewhat flabby-bellied body from the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner. Arthur Itis immediately complained in his usual fashion and stung me with some pain-giving twinges. I got up into a semi-perpendicular stance, grabbed the stick, and hobbled into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

As soon as I pressed the power button, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, urgently! Again, it was a close call getting there in time, and what a session this was! Bloody, messy and most uncomfortable. For a description of the evacuated dollop, think a torpedo-shaped long bale of hay! Cricky, I’m glad now that I didn’t eat much of last night’s meal! I might still be sat on the Throne now if I had! Certain areas needed sanitising and medicating, with TLC! Had a wash and back to make the brew.

With the struggle in passing, I mixed a sachet of the Macrogol first.

Then made the brew and took the medications.

To the computer, and started things off with the updating of Saturday post.

As I began typing, a few things became apparent to me. Saccades Sandra was going to give me some hassle. Duodenal Donald was stabbing at me. And I had some new growths to join the old one, on the right hand! They came out almost orange in the photograph? Not a lot surprised me nowadays with the ever-changing ailments. But this did.

The updating took less time than usual, as I had condensed things, in an effort to spend less time on the computer, and get some cleaning up done and much needed rest. I got it finished and posted off. Then went to make another mug of tea. As well as the photo above, I took a couple of pictures of the view from the unwanted, light & view-blocking new windows.

The first one through the opened window, the second from inside. As the rain was soaking me through with the window open.

Back to the computer and…

Then…

The wee-wees had been persistent all morning, so I went for yet another. Most of them were in the LBRWS (Long-But-Reluctant-Weak-Sprinkly) mode.

While waiting for Liberty-Global Virgin Media to return on-line, I went to tidy up the kitchen (Gawd, it needed it!) and make yet another drink.

I went to get out next weeks medicine tray and realised that there wasn’t one, I’d just used up my entire supply? I rather hope the new ones will be delivered today!

Life is something that tests one’s patience, especially people like medical patients! Haha!

Back to the computer, and Liberty-Global internet was back on, but fluctuating between slow and dead-slow, now!

I went on the WordPress Reader. Then posted some Pinterest photographs. And yet another urgent calling to the Porcelain Throne arrived. This time it was an even-closer shave to making it to the seat in time! I took a very poor, although I didn’t realise it at the time, snap of the knees. With Arthur Itis giving me such bother, I expected they would be all bloated and warped, but no, they seemed okay to me? Hey-ho!

I made a start on this blog for a while (with many wee-wee and Saccades Sandra delays). Then decided to try to write an ode I’d been thinking of while doing this blog, but had forgotten what it was about! Humph!

I was suddenly hungering and hankering for something to eat for brekkers. I made a mug of Thompsons best tea and had a packet of salt & vinegar Chipsticks, the last jam tart and a bar of orange club biscuit! Followed with a few cashew nuts. But not a lot!

Then decided to get the ablutions done, as it was gone the witching-hour of 08:00hrs. I had a change of plans (I’m well-known for this, you know, Hehe!) and decided to take the black bags to the chute. Then down with the recyclable carrier and carrier of glass for the small bin. I chanced to take them down, using just the walking stick.

And I was doing well until I got into the three flats hallway and a visit from Dizzy Dennis was suffered. I didn’t go down or anything dangerous, but I did drop the bag of empty glass jars and bottles! None broke either, but the noise they made, has most likely made me as popular with the other tenants, as Nigel Farage would be at the Liberal Party Conference! Humph!

I pointlessly whispered an “I’m sorry!” And carried on into the lift and down and outside with the bags. It dawned on me; I had not taken the two black bags to the chute! It was raining and windy out there, so I got the job done as quickly as I could to avoid getting soaked and returned to Woodthorpe Court with the rubbish-bags. Remembering this time, to deposit the black bags in the waste chute, and avoid clouting my head on the lid this time. Which I did! Smug-Mode Adopted!

– Back to the flat, and tackled the ablutionalisational duties. A few dropsies and it went pretty well for me until it came to the dreaded Sock-Glide Battle. Two trapped fingers, on for each sock, both forced me into a quietly uttered few words of an intemperate nature. I also noted while in the shower, (apart from not, I say Not, dropping the soap or showerhead), that the tiles on the wall were getting a tad grimy looking.

The pins had changed a little. The ankle swelling had gone down a lot.

Signs of Venous Insufficiency, and spider, femoral veins were slowly coming back a little more prominently.

Thankfully, Arthur Itis was seemingly easing off somewhat too.

So I got out the Mildew and Mould sprays and created a cunning plan! Oh, yes! I would sit on the shower stool and reach down to the lower tiles, and stand on it, to reach the higher ones. Good eh? The very moment I hit the floor after falling out of the chair, I knew this was not going to work after all! I struggled back on my feet and applied some Phorpain Gel on the elbow and shin. Buenos Dias! Int’ life a gas? Hehehe! I withdrew from the Mildew-removal activities area, and guess what?

Porcelain Throne duties No.3 were needed! A good job I was so close to the WC bowl, as things moved along fast and almost caught me out again, a sort of self-starting and finish when the innards felt they were ready to, session! However, a third-variety of evacuation followed. No bleeding from anywhere, very little pain, the enormity of the released product seemed less this time. It’s a busy day for a Sunday!

The rain seemed to have stopped, but the sun was in and out a bit regular, so I left the lights on. I nipped out quickly (quickly, hahaha!), to go on the rooftop of Winwood Court, to try and catch some photographs while the sun was shining.

Huh! another change of plans. I just remembered that I have no tablets left! So I rang the Pharmacy, without realising it was ‘Sunday’, what an idiot! I’ve got enough Warfarin and Simvastatin for today, but desperately short of Codeine. So, somehow tomorrow, I’ve got to call the chemist and find out what’s happening, and also see the Bank Manager. Hang on, there’s Mo’s funeral to go to on Monday! I’m getting all confused, sad, and going on a downer now!

Still, Josie’s nosh to be prepared yet. How can one go from so high to so low in an instant? I’d better make a start. I noticed while getting Josie’s nosh prepared, that the odd orangey-red marks on the right hand had disappeared or dissipated altogether? But the two older scars were still there? I baked on smoked haddock-cheese and potato rissole a little longer today. Put some of the Tuna with mayonnaise and sweetcorn on for another trial for her. Sliced tomato, mushrooms and garden peas. A can of Gin & Tonic, and a limoncello dessert top round it off. Makes it a bit of a change for her to try. I hope she likes the new stuff. I delivered it spot on the usual time, as anyone who is a personal chef should do. Hehe!

I got back inside, and Shaking Shaun had a go at me. Left me in a bit of a dodgy condition as I plated my own nosh, Dizzy Dennis joined in the ‘Let’s-get-at-Inchcock’ session.

To be frank, memories after this part of the day, do not exist. But I woke later in the evening, panicking.

Inchcock Today – Tuesday 24th December 2019: Trousers split, almost lethal trip to get some more. Hehe!

24th December 2019

Finnish: 24 Joulukuuta 2019

22:35hrs: I woke full of guilt at letting down the sweet phlebotomy nurse, Christina, yesterday. I continue not liking myself this morning. Grumph!

I was forced to rise out of the c1968, second-hand, nauseously-beige-coloured, rickety recliner, to make my way to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for a weak, SS (Short-Sprinkly) wee-wee. As it ended, the sudden urgent demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived. I grabbed the stick and hastened to the wet room. By Jiminy, it was a close call again! But, the evacuation, although it was a tad painful and quick, it wasn’t messy at all, just a few smatterings of blood. Just about what I deserved with my messing Christina about, I thought.

I took both sets of medications, being as I had yet again forgotten to take last night’s. Humph!

With a determination, I set about updating the Monday post. I had an idea for a stand-alone post on the Nottingham Street Art I’d pictured yesterday, so meant to get on quickly… but:

After a long time. I don’t think I got it back on; it returned of its own accord. I typed as fast as my ailments would allow me to…

But:

I was getting frustrated now. So did some CorelDrawing. Then the internet returned. Phew! I got on and finally finished the post and got it sent off. Finally making a start on the new post

Then:

When Mr (well paid) Fries, Liberty-Global Virgin Media came back on a long time later, it was super fast! For about ten minutes! Then I went back to its struggling to keep up!

I pressed on with the photo-funny comment blog. Gawd, it took me hours and hours to get done! But I got there.

It was time to get the ablutions done. I had to get them done earlier than usual, in case the Angel nurse Christina came again, I pray she does. Off to the wet room, then.

But I got sidelined when I took the mug to the kitchen for cleaning, and I got carried away doing the handwashing first. The jammie bottoms, socks and a long-sleeved shirt. I anticipate that the jammie bottom should be dry enough to be moved onto one of the airers by about February next year. Huh! The right hand has lost a lot of strength since the onset of the peripheral neuropathy, then and the stroke. I did my bestest to wring them out, I was not very successful. Still, I don’t think it makes anything worst by trying. That bit of effort I make, might even be slowing things down on the idiopathic neurotransmitter problem?

Well, that was totally different from the last session. I knocked the stuff off of the floor cabinets again, so many things went on the floor! Two little knicks shaving, dropped the toothbrush, carbolic soap several times, the flannel, the shower-head, and all bar fell over getting the trousers on! The sock-glide battle ended up with me getting a few bruises. Pee’d-off Mode Adopted!

I took a photo of my legs, and cannot find the lens cover anywhere now! Still, at least the pins are looking a bit betterer this morning. Arthur Itis. Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, Hernia Henry, Shaking Shaun, Back-Pain-Brenda, and even Saccades Sandra and her oculomotor dysfunction are all being kind to me. Anne Gyna and Dennis are making up for the inactivity of the others, mind. Tsk!

Then I ripped my trousers when I bent down to put the slippers on! Gawd, Blimey!

I began to update this post. 10:25hrs now, no sign of the Blood Angel. So it looks like I’m in trouble again. Oh, dear!

I visited the WordPress Reader. Had to stop when the intercom chimed up. A male nurse had come to take my blood. I didn’t need my EQ to tell me he was not happy. He tooketh the haemoglobin, and I offered him a drinky for Christmas. He chose a Whisky & Coke, half-smiled, wished me happy Christmas and was off.

I got the things ready to catch the bus to town, to get some replacement trousers.

I didn’t realise it then, but I do now,

I’d forgotten to put the camera in my pocket,

When it dawned, I said Crap and Holy Cow!

How do I get through life? But I stumble through, somehow!

I made my way down and dropped off the bags in the chute en route, and saw the Caretaker Stewart and had a quick natter. Then, along the link-corridor to the warmer Winwood Court lobby and through to the big social room

Where I bumped into Nottingham City Home’s Generalfeldmarschalless Housing Patch Manager/Catwalk-Model, Angela Gould, who twinkled her eyes at me, told me off about something or other, then waltzed away with a taller, younger, better-looking, fitter, cleverer, educated, richer, confident, had his own hair and a full set of teeth, bloke. Who was not wearing hearing aids and could walk without medical aids. Humph! Spit! Hehe!

Spoke with John-Herbert, then made my way out to the bus stop. Mary-Jean, Chrissie, May and many other tenants were gathered, and I had a listen to the gossip and handed out the nibbles. Getting on the L9 to town, and getting out the crossword book after depositing my bottom in a side-saddle seat.

As we arrived in town, I realised that I had not got my camera with me. Crap and Holy Cow! What a pitifully-inadequate, imbecilic, dotty, docile, memory-challenged toss-pot!

I went into the battle-ground known as the Poundsaver Store. I was battered and barged, trod on, shoulder-charged walked into, and nearly knocked over a few times, as the gentle Nottinghamian’s around, cursed and fought each other to get things from the half-empty shelves. It was a shame I went in really. If I had not torn my trews earlier, I would not be in town now! Grumph!

I got to the self-serve tills and came out with various things. Dettol, more Toffifees, Ginster Beef pattie, some eau de cologne, smoked almonds, woolly-bob-caps and orange digestive biscuits. I paid up in cash after the machine refused to accept my card!

I was so annoyed with myself as I saw endless photographicalisationing opportunities I could not respond to, on my way into the Victoria Centre, where the Salvation Army Band were giving it some stick with the Christmas tunes. I risked life and limb to get to the lift to go up to the Victoria Market. The elevator cage went between the first floor, down to the Market level, ground floor (where I was), and down to the car park below. The first few times it came, it was cram-packed and I just waited patiently, while having my ankles repeatedly clouted by pram wheels from behind. Eventually, I got in the cage. But had to up to the 2nd level, all the way down to the car park, and back up where I started, the ground floor, then down to the car park again, and finally to the market level. As I got out, I left to Tut-tutting, and a loudly spoken, ‘Old folks with walkers shouldn’t be let in when it’s so busy” for some unknown reason?

I hobbled to Abdhul’s stall to get my trews. But it was all abandoned now in there, many stalls emptied out. So sad. Abdul looked lonely and depressed when I arrived. And, he only had two pairs of trousers in my size! I’ve used this stall for years, and most trips he would offer a choice of five or six pairs, if not more for me to choose from. Sad times for the lad. I bought them, despite the grotty colours, and then repeated the farce to get back down in the elevator. Shame I can’t manage the escalator nowadays. This time a lady helped me sort out which floor I was on, I had to laugh at my own confusion.

I got to Queen Street and met a lady from our beloved Woodthorpe Court, that lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the spacetime continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! That frequently has only one lift working, most taps are leaking, toilets that take well over an hour to refill after being flushed, blocked wet room drains, windows that are lethal to open, a fire alarm only 50% of residents can hear... oh, I got carried away there, sorry!

The lady and I had a sort of chinwag as best we could en route home. (Hearing problems!) I’ve spoken with the lady a few times. She is a classy woman, and so nice natured and puts up with me well. We exchanged seasonal greetings, as I left the lift.

Got in the apartment and got the things out of the bag and carrier.

I hung the trews up in the window to decrease them a little and added the hand-washed shirt from earlier, which was dry enough to start airing.

The earlier handwashing was not ready, not dry enough yet to move over the radiator. Especially the jammie bottoms.

I got the oven heating up for the beef pastie and chips to be cooked.

Had a look at the TV schedule, and found some things I fancied viewing.

When the kiln had reached 220° I put the McCain original oven chips in to cook. As you can see, there was the odd blighted chip, that needed removing first. I went through the remaining chips in the bag afterwards and found a dozen more of them. As the McCain advert says: ‘It’s no wonder they’re often called the perfect teatime chip’ Hmm? I wonder if Liberty-Global Virgin Media are connected with McCains? They both might be competition to tell the biggest lies in their adverts? They’ll have to go some to beat Liberty-Global, they are as good as politicians at dishonest, deceitful, false claims!

A proper feast this meal was. Beef pastie, tomatoes, beetroot and a portion of McCain’s blight removed chips. With caramelised onion chutney, wholemeal bread thins and some German smoked Bavarian ham that was just out of date, but tasted fine. Some fresh orange juice for afters. Flavour Rating: 8.4/10, super!

I washed the dishes, had a weak wee-wee, and got down in time to watch the Tremors ‘5’ film, that I had not seen before. The earlier ones I found hilarious, even though they were not meant to be comedies methinks.

The first set of advertisements came on, and I drifted off. Humph! I wanted to watch that one as well! Sulk-Mode-Instigated!

Inchcock Today – Tuesday 17th December 2019: Liberty-Global Virgin Media & Iceland assured it was a terrible day!

Tuesday 17th December 2019

German: Dienstag, 17 Dezember 2019

00:15hrs: I woke up, in a lackadaisical, lethargic, incurious pococurante disposition. Possibly brought on my the dreams I’d been having? But actual facts of the dream are not recalled at all, but the mood of them, was I think, of a defeatist, negatively-fatalistic nature.

It took a while, and some pointless failed self-analysing before I gave up, and began to haul my extracurricular oversized, flabby torso from the £300 second-hand recliner. Once again, the need for a wee-wee encouraged this activity. I grabbed the four-pronged walking stick and hobbled to the wet room. The SGSS (Short-Gently-Sprinkling-Spraying) evacuation was soon over. Washed the hands and into the kitchen.

No sooner did I get there, I needed to make an imitation dash (quick-hobble), back to the use the Porcelain Throne. Just in time, and it was a messy affair, that needed a lot of cleansing and medicating afterwards. Too much bleeding for my mind. Got freshened up again, and back to the kitchen. On the way, the EQ warned me of upcoming annoyances. Oh, dear!

I made a brew and imbibed the medications.

Then got the computer on to to the updating of the Monday Inchcock Today diary. But and however, things were not right with the much-hated Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet!

It was a struggle, at it kept failing to save, sticking and coming back on. More annoying than usual, because the Sensory nerves were the best they have been for months, and I knew this would not last long, and they’d, soon be back playing to up. Grumph!

I left the computer and went to make another brew of tea. (Yes, the thirst for tea was back again!)

I took a photo of the view while the kettle boiled, and I boiled inside at Mr Fries and his comically inept internet service! That is guaranteed to let one down! Spit!

I tried once more with the computer.

But not for long, about an hour into updating:

After turning off and resetting, I had to give up again. Thank you again, Mr ‘Incompetent‘ Fries. You really ought to give up on Media and open a hot dog stall in Central Park. Mind, you’d probably burn it down or something! What was it you lied to me about in your last letter, not the one before that one, where you told me the price of the shitty service is going up again! The one sent ten-days ago. Let’s have a look at it, shall we? We might as well, cause there is little chance of doing anything else, like going on the pathetic Liberty-Global powered computer to work! I’ll find it… Ah, here it is. It’s in very small print, isn’t it? Must save your penny-pinching, customer-hating company in ink, I should think. And customers who are silver-surfers (Or in Liberty-Global terminology, Silver Hobblers) will not be able to read you misleading, untrue statements?

WordPress readers, can you believe this! “We know how important it is for your home to get brilliantly fast and reliable Virgin Media Services…” Hahaha! Utter-Tosh!

What happened to the free internet for all the politicians were speaking about? Oh, yes, that was Jeremy Corbyn who promised free broadband for every home under a Labour government. Well, they’ve shot that haven’t they!

At long last, I could get some updating done. Heck of a job, but it was finally completed and sent off. I made a start on this post, but the internet kept going very slow at times, and I had to keep waiting for it to come back on properly.

I sent a few piccies off to Pinterest, then went on the TFZer Facebooking.

Deana called to do alarm checks. I took the opportunity to mention the WC and the leaking hot water tap to her. She kindly said she would inform the maintenance shower for me, and get back to let me know when, if, they are to arrive to sort out the situation, which she says is just a new washer needed.

The Iceland order arrived and I set about putting the things away. Noticing that there were two substitutes on the order. In place of the two 400g Milk Roll loaves of bread, there were two 800g White Sliced Loaves. I cursed a little inwardly, then aloud! There is no way they will fit in the freezer!

Also, the two 300g packs of Maple Barbeque pork loins, were one, with a substituted 500g plain pork loins. Crap substitutes, rotten Iceland, and I was getting het-up again! Gits! So, I got the checking done and stuff put away, all bar the unwanted, totally different, twice a large, tasteless, unrequested, unwelcome, undesired, unprompted, bland, bread they had substituted!

Iceland is on a par with Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, Rubbish!

I took the waste bags to the chute – and recycling bag down to caretaker’s bin.

Back up to the apartment, and got the food goods stored away. Taking a picture of the rather bleak weather on view outside.

Got the coat on again, and I took the substituted pathetic flavourless bread down to the Social kitchen. They can use it for toast maybe for the Social kitchen. One lady there, she was on her mobile. She took the dated 22nd Dec, bread from the trolley and said thank you. Not many folks around, I’d hoped to ask Deana about Mo and how she was, but I forgot to, and there was no one else to inquire of. The office was closed.

I snapped this photographicalisation of the lit Christmas Tree on the way back through the link corridor to Woodthorpe Court.

That little hobble home was one of despondency and low spirits. And I don’t know why.

I got up in the lift to the flat, and had a wee-wee, and found Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding again. It’s always painful cleaning things up and applying the cream, whether it be the Corticosteroid, Clobetasone, or Daktacort EX cream, they all make one’s eyes water, in this department. Hehe! No idea why I laughed then?

I got the new picker-upper from the three-wheeled trolley guide bar. It is not safe there now, with the plastic gripper having split. Tsk! I’d only had the thing for a few hours before it cracked! Botherations!

As I went into the front room to go to the computer, I put the picker-upperer on the airer, and gave it a try with light stuff, then had a go at picking up the tub with the Chinese salted sweet nut brittle sweets in it, that I had knocked over earlier, and fell beneath the airer. You can see how large it was in the photo, the sweet wrappers are red. It grabbed and lifted it alright!

Heated oven ready to have pork steaks (One day life on it! – Shit Iceland), and flavoured beans (marinated with Hoisin sauce for, later on, I hope) for the nosh.

I did some updating on this post for a few hours. I checked the yesterday receipts, before dishing them.

This may be hard to grasp, but yesterday, paying at the self-serve checkout at Asda (Walmart), I think I may have somehow or other, managed to overcharged myself! Sad innit?

I went to check on the unwanted pork chops in the oven. Turned it down a smidge, and went to take some jars down for Warden Julie. Who I found, no longer needs any jars. Ah, well!

Back at the flat, the Warfarin Level and doses had been delivered from the Anticoagulation Haemostasis Deep Vein Arterial Thrombosis Clinic. A mouthful that name, for some reason I like it? The new result, 4.8, far to high, which may go to explain the funny clopidogrel legs lately, as well as how cold I’ve and am feeling with the very thin blood.

I got the meal sorted (blimey the stack of washing up top do!)

I’d made far too much, but what I did eat was okay. Although, the flavouring was also too strong. Flavour Rating; 6/10.

I tackled the washing up, which took a long time, with the grease from the not very lean lamb chops that I didn’t order.

I got settled in the recliner and pondered on the day. Whoopsidangleplops mostly down to Liberty-Global’s Mr Fries and Iceland.

Put the TV on, and fell asleep within minutes!

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