Saturday 6th June 2020
Luxembourgish: Samschdeg 6. Juni 2020
TFZer Nancy ♥
03:30hrs: I stirred into imitation life, and awaited the brain to join me. (It took a few moments).
As I maneuvred my cumbersome, wobbly-blobby frame up on my feet, I noticed that the Clopidogrel allergy inspired blotches and lumps had started to return. Ah-well!
The need for a wee-wee arrived, which I took, and then to the kitchen to do the medicationalisationing as needed. It was of the WSSUGG (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Greeny-Grey) wee-wee style! But no pain, at all with it. Nice! The SYS had come down winsomely at last.
I opened the thick-framed, can’t get at to clean, letting rain in, anti-photographer designed, light & view-blocking new windows, to take a shot of Chestnut Walk below, and crikey, was the wind blowing in!
The medications were taken, and a welcoming mug of Glengettie tea was imbibed!
Off to the computer, and got started on doing up this blog on Blogger. But as I was doing so and searching for graphics, I spotted a comment from Tim Price. He’s put how to get to the old (not block) blogger, without going through a lot of bother and confusion. I tried it. An amazingly simple way to do it, thanks, Tim. I’m back in the editor before last now, so no full alignment button, but I’ll manage without it. Yipee!
I set to creating this blog and did a little CorelDrawing to get some graphics to use.
I remembered that my Iceland delivery was due, a pleasant change that, remembering something! Haha! So I had to stop computerisationing, and get the 
ablutions done, to be ready in time, in case the delivery comes early in the 8>10 given window.
It was drizzling in the breeze, so I took these shots through the balcony window, the first one towards my left and Sherwood, Mapperley, and Carrington.
The second picture was taken to my right, towards Daybrook, and Arnold, the North of Nottingham. It shows where the garages used to be at the dead-end of Chestnut Walk. I don’t know what the Council or Nottingham City Homes plans are for the area. It’s been fenced off.
It seems that red cars are making a comeback?
As a heavy shower, blown in a blustery than earlier wind started, I grabbed the four-pronged walking stick and hobbled off (rather nattily, I thought), to the wet room!
I assembled everything needed (apart from those I forgot about, hehe!), and amassed them outside the door, and turned on the shower power. Before I could do anything, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived.
I had a sat-down mini-marathon of a wait for the evacuation to begin. And a partially successful go at the crossword book. But nothing moved! I could sense it wanted to, but Constipation Konrad was preventing any movement. So, I gave up, checked things were not messy, all was okay, and I got on with washing the dandies and getting the teggies cleaned.
As I was getting the teeth-cleaning things ready, I had to divert a few paces back to the Throne. It took me some time again, but when things did start, the motion was excruciating but short-lived. Leaving an aroma, with me coughing, that if it could be bottled, might be used as a nerve gas by the military (Hahaha!)
Now I have batteries; the power-brush was utilised and without a single gum cut! (Smug-Mode-Engaged!) Then, on to the shaving. A few dropsies, but fewer than usual. Razors (3), and the Shaving foam can, and no, I say, No Cuts! (Top lip curls in Elvis fashion and Smug-Mode goes up to Defcon 2. Hehehe!)
Even betterer still, in the shower! Not a single visit from Dizzy Dennis, that’s never happened before? (I’m not sure whether to happy about it or worry over it, Haha!) No shower-head drops! No involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing either! (Smug-Mode goes up to Defcon 2.2 Hehehe!) Mind you, I used one of those freebie hotel-sized soap tablets, that produced about five dropsies.
Oh, and no knocking into the shower chair or the grab bars either! Fanwondertasic!
The medicationing was also of a far less painful exercise. Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were less bothersome. Even the feet, not the toes, seemed less troublesome. Arthur Itis was in a rough mood with me, mind you. Overall, a decent session!
I got semi-dressed; No socks, too painful to use the sock-glide, anyway, it’s been that long, I’m not sure I can remember how to use it, now. Tsk! Got PPs, trousers, a jumper, and the slippers on.
With the Porcelain Throne extra-curricular activities, I got the ablutions finished much later than planned, but just before 08:00hrs, so in time, in case the Iceland delivery came early.
On the computer, to update this post. Now Tim Price has shown me how to get the Classic Editor going; this, even without the full-alignment option, is far better, more utible than the Google Blogger to use. Thanks, Tim!
Five minutes later, the natty Dusty Springfield ♫ , I only want to be with you! ♫ tune rang out from the front door.
Someone had let him in. He’s left the bags in the hallway near the door, and offered to 
put them through into the entrance for me. But I was in amazingly good, rude, health (for me, anyway) and feeling up for it, so declined his kind offer, and slipped him a can of pink G & T. I know he likes them! I got them through to the kitchen and deposited them where I could find room. Haha!
Not such a big order today, but the fridge was still a tad crammed with nosh by the time I’d finished putting things away.
I then got a pack of small fresh mushrooms in the crock-pot for later. Seasoned them, accidentally from the hickory bottle, in error for the Light Soy sauce bottle. Bungle-Grumplewuncks! But, hey-ho, I just added some Soy to it as well. So, fingers crossed.
The wholemeal deli rolls were flattened as only Iceland damaging goods skills can be. However, this will not stop me from eating them. I plan for some of the Robirch skinless sausages, two of each to go into the individual rolls, with some sliced tomatoes and the 
mushrooms as a side? The problem with this plan being, the tomatoes are Morrocan. The last time I had some, they were really, in fact, not eatable! Little juice, bitter and rock hard! But of course, these may be sweet and tasty? Pigs might fly! Haha!
As I got back to blogging again, the landline burst forth with its flashing light. It was Brother-in-law-Pete. advising me that they had not received the link for yesterday’s blog. So I investigated and found I had not sent it. I made the excuse that with all the trouble with getting back on WordPress had thrown me off course. I apologised and promised to get it sent off straight away. I did feel a fool!
I went on Facebook next.
I heard a familiar yapping and went to see which dog it was. It was the fussy-full of life little black dog. His, or her tail never stops wagging, doesn’t stop, only for the odd sniff here and there. Lovely animal.
I took a snap that shows what I mean by the new windows being light & view blocking. I’ve been spoilt by the old windows, they were one turnable giant sheet of glass, that was easy to clean, and gave me freedom when it came to photographing.
I got the nosh prepared and served up. This meal was given a 6/10 for flavour and taste. The mushroom that I cocked-up cooking and put the Hickory in to season instead of the Soy sauce, then added light-soy, were just about edible, but not very nice. The Morrocan tomatoes were less foul than last weeks but still horrible. The delightful seedless grapes, and tasty skinless sausage baps, were excellent!
I put the TV on to check if there was anything worth viewing and saw some back-to-back documentaries were showing, on channel 91. So I went to get the pots washed up.
Then returned to watch the TV.
But the concentration on the engrossing and I think a most interesting documentary was lost. Lost to the Thought-Storming. That was worrying, fearing and at times a little panicky. My confidence was at a low ebb.
Sleep stood no chance at all! Hey-Ho!
04:00hrs (The latest getting up time for months): I stirred and waited for the brain to catch me up. Which it failed to do in time apparently. Cause as I began to manipulate my grossly overweight-stomached body from the recliner, ‘Thud-thud’, I ended up on my knees! Fell off of the c1968, rickety recliner, knocking the swivel chair over to the cabinet as I did so. Which sent the nibble pots off of the arm and rolling all over the floor. 
When I got in the kitchen, I spotted the moon was out again. But, being so much later than yesterday, it was more distant and further to my left. 
My first job was to make up the template for today’s blog, which took a long time. Thanks to Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters going off and on-line at will. Got it done, and checked online for the virus figures. Not very good. 
But I still felt in a perky mood! I dried off and got dressed, all bar the socks, and went to get the handwashing done, wrung and hung. 
I got the black bags sorted, replaced the bags in the waste-baskets (4), and took the full ones to the waste chute. 
There are plenty of aircraft/jets out today. How do they keep to social-spacing in them, then? 
Back up to my flat, didn’t anyone out in the building at all going either way. It felt so eerie, and reminded me of my recurrent dream of being chased and shot at in a crumbling building, by gangs of unpleasant persons.
outside. 
I ended up making Halloumi cheese sticks and bacon in the same oven tray. I made up bacon sandwiches, caramelised chutney, an apple and some lemon Vienna cakes. And a can of the delightfully tangy Clementine juice. 
01:30hrs: I didn’t wake up as such because I’d been lying there on the rickety recliner for hours trying to get some kip! I just sort of gave up on it. The brain mused over what the needs of the day were, almost of its own accord, really? The appointment at the Sherwood Health Centre for 08:30hrs, not that it is anything special, but I cheered at the thought of getting out again… then started fretting; ‘Will the toilet rolls from Amazon arrive while I’m out? Bound to be nicked if the driver leaves them outside the door! I must start the ablution by 06:30hrs, to make sure if any medicalisationing or Accifauxpas makes me take more time than usual, then I won’t be late in getting to the clinic. 
I got the kettle on, took the medications, made a brew, and went on the computer to up[date the Wednesday post. When… 
All done, I had the time to make up some black bags, to take to the waste chute and a box of cardboard to take down to caretaker Robert’s room, on the way out. The wet paint sign was hung up on display, and the bottom of the door had been decorated. Hahaha! Too early a departure to see any of the workers working. 
Down to the Woodthorpe lobby and out, placed the box of cardboard near Trevor’s door. Across the road and hobbled up the gravel footpath past the Tree Copse. I felt a little sad about how sad and bare it still looked. I’ve not been up the path on the hill more months now, and it looks like even more trees than before 
have been vandalised! I’ll try to take some pictures later on the way back. 
With Spring arriving with the Coronavirus, I just had to stop near the corner to appreciate and photograph these 
I arrived at the Clinic about ten-minutes or so later, and entered, stopping to read all the signs in the foyer regards to the Coronavirus. Do not enter if you are feeling unwell – Have a new dry cough, etc. Wash your hands with the Hand-Sanitiser provided. (Which I would have if I could have found any! Just like at my beloved Winwood Heights I suppose, someone keeps nicking the bottles! So sad! I almost took a ‘Guide to Breast-feeding leaflet’, as I had sadly not brought the crossword book with me.
I did notice that the Doctors Surgery reception desks, had all been blocked off, so people can’t get too close perhaps. Coronavirus and all that?
Now it was back to the Wilko store for me. All this exertion and physical exercise can only help, with me going to potentially be stuck indoors for six days, awaiting the questionable, as to if they will arrive or not Tork, toilet rolls from Amazon. 
I think that the Coronavirus was keeping folks in, but not the dog walkers, they were all over the fields. 
it seemed no time to me before I was there at the road to the Copse. 
I got the veg into the crock-pot on Auto, where it should bring to the boil, then go on simmer. Mushrooms, onions, leeks, turnips, parsnips, sugar-snap peas. with beef seasoning, vegetable 
cube and vinegar added in the water. The plan is to have it added to the cook-in-the-bag braised beef, later on for a stew of sorts.
Then, I put away the purchases from today at Wilko. 
I took this rather handsome, that’s not the right word, erm.. decent picture of the view from the kitchen window, zoomed in a bit. It came out alrightish. 
After a couple of hours or so, the weariness from lack of sleep was dawning. I took a break and checked on the slow-cooking vegetables, and added a few tomatoes to the mix. 
chat while she tested the On-Call box and my wristlet alarm. 
– 
I got the hand in cold water, the chest didn’t seem so painful, but then it coped for a lot less water on it. After a good while, I applied some Germolene cream, and even after such a long time, the cream bubbled on the fingers! Later I changed the cream for some fresh stuff and took the photo.
It’s been all go here today – with Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, cordiality, forbearance, kindness and empathy thrown in. 
01:15hrs: Woke, worried, aflutter and tormented by my not knowing why I felt so distraught in the first place. A cycle of perturbing, solutionless thoughts and problems started to ping-about in my brain. 
I fumbled my way out of the second-hand, rickety recliner and with the stick, I went over to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket) to release the amber-fluid. That thought went a bit flat when it came out almost colourless again. And the container was over half-filled! Not once during the night can I recall getting out of the chair and going to the bucket, not once! 
As I got sat down, I lost my balance as Arthur Itis suddenly went into Turbo-Mode. You wouldn’t believe how many things I tried to do at the same time; first, stop to evacuation from flowing, grabbed the picker-upperer and tried to use it with some of the kitchen towel to soak up the olive oil that along with so many other things, I’d knocked off of the floor cabinet when I tumbled! Then in between putting the well-oiled towels in the bin and trying again, I rescued some tablets from getting soaked Codeine 30g and Senna packs. Having partly saved the day, but with a lot of cleaning up yet to do, the attention had to return to the evacuation. Which thankfully was a non-messy and not too painful one. Phew! 
Going to make the brew, the mind vacillated again, this time over what to have for my meal today. So many choices, after a harrowingly long time of pondering, I decided on a stew of sorts. I got some mushrooms, peas, peppers and my beloved leeks in the crock-pot. Added just a little sea salt and Chinese vinegar. 
It was dark later this morning, no sunshine has made its way out yet. 
The meal, even without the potatoes, went down well and got a flavour rating of 8/10. 
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. 
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 Stand-up Ablutions were tackled:
floor-cupboard. Sigh!
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. 
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! 
re I knew it, the time was gone 17:00hrs! 
down next. I turned off the computer, and in a state of ultra-weariness, battled to keep my concentration as I prepared the stew.
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.
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 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 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! 
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!
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. 
Cox’s apples, not cheap, but they looked okay, a bag of small potatoes, a wholemeal bread thins, and some mushrooms. 
Office in it, to get some Puff Pastry fingers. 
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. 
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. 
However, I still ate the potatoes, not the black bits, mind. 
Not only, but as well as and besides them, the pins (legs) were looking even better. On the verge of normalisticalistion! Well, apart from what I think might be one of the coming and going blotches, due to the Clopidogrel Clive. Even, Varicose-Veins-Victor had calmed down! I think I’ll upgrade my previous exclamation from disconcerting to worrying!
Had I woken up in another world? I clambered out of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner so easily! No dizzies, an almost routine Throne visit? Plus, Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna were giving me no hassle at all. Little-Inchies Fungal Lesion and Harolds Haemorrhoids 
I put some leeks and mushrooms in the small crock-pot, seasoned with onion salt. Then made another mug of tea, and belatedly took the medications. 
Then… Eurgh! 
(Well, I didn’t make it back until I woke up Friday at 01:00hrs. Humph!) 
Back up to the flat, and tackled the mopping up of the filthy kitchen floor. I had to change the water in the bucket twice! 
While the floor dried, I went down to the Hauptsturmfuhreresses Holding Cell and Office, with the last of the Easter treats. They were busy, and my EQ told me I was annoying them. But, pole-dancer and Warden Deana, did pose for me to take a snap of her. 
I went outside on Chestnut Walk, back to the flat, so I could take some photographs of the buildings. Not received any for a while now, with all those days being stuck indoors over the month. Thanks mainly to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for being late with my prescriptions and leaving me without painkillers and beta-blockers for five, no, six days! Just thought I’d mention it! I wonder if the next months will arrive on time? The Medicine Management lady, Leoni, who I complained to, told me to ring them when I get to my last weeks blister-pack and remind them. Very helpful, professional and useful! Especially as she knows I am almost deaf! I wandered-off the plot there, sorry.
I got the meal prepared and served up. Those wicked, unhealthy Frikadellens, done it the oven, and caramelised onion chutney slathered liberally on top of them (Evil-chuckle), garden peas, much-overcooked but still tasty leeks, a sliced black Natoori tomato, and four mushrooms done with balsamic vinegar, and a few mini new potatoes. With a luxurious lemon-curd yoghourt for afters, with a bottle of fresh orange juice! Bu gum, I relished that! Flavour rating of 9/10 given! But, I must resist the temptation to have Frikadellens again for a few months, cause despite the fantastic taste, they are really not healthy at all! 
As I fought my way out of the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, and made way, hobblingly and hanging onto the walking stick, to the hall. I still managed to give myself a sickeningly-sharp toe-stubbing against the Ottoman! I found the smoke alarm going off on the kitchen ceiling. There was a recorded message, that was the squeaking, whiny noise I heard I assumed. It repeated a few time before stopping. I caught a few words of the recording, ‘No action is needed’, I hope. So, I reckon it was an alarm test. Indeed, no smoke or fire around anyway.
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 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 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! 
the stand-up ablutionalisationing done. 
When I got to the Winwood Heights Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Wardens and Lap-Top Dancers Interrogation Office, but no one answers my knock. 
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. 
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, 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 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. 
I put the fodder away. Then got the new pot set-up next to the other semi-new biggerer one. 
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!
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 tended to the ablutions. Only a couple of dropsies this time. (Razor (2), flannel) It went well overall, and the Sock Glide was tamed!
But the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, was really crap today! Even for them! 
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! 
They are to be working again on the upgrading of the service, on Thursday 7th February. Well, last month when they did some work, they left the service more unreliable than it was before! Hey-Ho! 
I set about my self-given tasks. 
back in its box. There were foam sheets etc. that would not go back in, as I expected. But it is now transportable, at least. I felt rather semi-pleased with myself! Smug-Mode-Adopted! 
ot the newest slow-cooker out of its box using the steak-knife. Good job I was in the kitchen at the time, it gave me quick access to the cold-water tap, Germolene and finger-plasters from the medical drawer nearby. Humph! 
The ablutions had to be done, and with rushing now, the risk of an Accifauxpa was high, I kept telling myself not to take risks. (Do I listen?) 
Back to the flat, I got readied and made my way down, though the link-passage, and to the ILC’s Interrogation and Body-Searching Office in Winwood Court. Hehehe! 
I dropped of the bus near the old Palligh de Dance, and walked over the two sets of pelican crossing lights needed, to get to Glasshouse Street. 
I came out of the Poundland shop and decided I had the time to walk along, taking some more photographicalisations. This was taken down Clumber Street, I was getting some rum looks from the Nottinghamians, that indicated their disapproval of my actions. Oh, dear! 
So I took another, zoomed-in this time. 
I poddled along, quietly contented in my own fashion. I even tried to whistle, but the hole left by my last tooth abstraction made it hard work. Which shows how long it is since I decided to whistle blithely! Sad innit!
Other buses needing access had joined the queue by the time I got to the corner. Where it became plain what the problem was, the dreaded roadworks! 
At the top of Queen Street, the view with the sky perfect for photographicalisationing was an amazingly good opportunity for a moody photo to be taken. Thankfully it came out decent enough to use. I checked on the camera screen and spotted another traffic problem. 
Surprisingly, the L9 bus was on time? (Beats me how he did it, brilliant!) I was the sole passenger until two bus stops later. No Winwoodonians were picked up en route, but I got out the crossword book. I got a couple of old clues as well. Swank-Mode-Engaged!
I didn’t meet anyone on the trip through the Winchester link-passage, the New Winwood Social room, the Winwood Foyer, the Woodthorpe court link-passage, and into Woodthorpee’s lift foyer. 
Warmed the garden peas, got two cheesy cobs buttered, sliced an apple, put some mini pork and pickle pies cut in half on the plate. Got down and tucked into the meal, but I’d again overdone it.