Tuesday 4th February 2020
00:55hrs: Woke up feeling as if I had no sleep at all, I lay there for ages, uhtceare and heavy eyelids. The need for a wee-wee proved to be my expergefactor. Almost wearily, I forced my heavily-stomached body from the recliner. And was well-pleased when I found that Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun were no longer in attendance. (Oh, yes, I was most approbatory about this!)
I used the untouched-overnight GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and I was taken aback by the power of the flow at first, but it faded to a trickle shortly. SFDBFF (Started-Firm-Determined-But-Faded-Fast) style. Then, I was hobbling off to the kitchen, where I took the medications, made a brew and passed wind. It was only a silent tiny phwert, but boy, the pong it left!
Feeling much better now, life was returning to the brain, and physically I was doing well. Mmm, apart from the Neurotransmitters failing a few times, I was lucky not to drop the tea-caddy, then the kettle. This is going to be a problem when I start typing on the computer. But no complaints, qualms or expostulations from me. After yesterdays horrendous events, I just appreciated being here, and the absence of so many ‘usual’ ailments. Yee-ha!
I went to move the tomato-slicer from the tea-brewing area, and soon found how bad Nicodemus-neurotransmitter was today, and the slicer slipped from my grasp. I automatically and foolishly made a grasp for it to stop it hitting the deck. I caught it. The serrated edges of the blades drew blood. A good job I have a stock of plasters in the medical drawer, Tsk! Klutz!
I took two shots of the high in the sky moon. I used the Night Landscape option for them.
Unfortunately, when the nerve-ends transmitters let me down again, I lost my grip on the camera. Mercifully, I had adopted a habit of always using the hand strap with the photographicalising, and this saved the day and possible damage to the Nikon. Phew!
Yet again the nerves failed, when I was putting the lid back on the tea caddy. The result was a scattering of tea bags that was made worse by my failing to catch it properly, knocking it away from me. Which sent Glengettie tea-bags over the floor and between the cooker and cupboard! I fetched good picker-upperer from the front room and attached it to the four-pronged walking stick back to the kitchen. I nearly went head over heels on the way through the door, as I caught my dodgy right knee against the bulky load I was carrying. Dizzy Dennis came into force.
Now I was really getting back to normal! Bleeding, in pain, well-dizzied, pissed-off, and silently offering forth a selection of expletives and traducements, regarding my foul luck and many ailments! Yes, my run of fair-fortunes and luck has ended! Crying was an option at this stage, but my experience of its futility prevented my sobbing or committing suicide. Hehehe! But I was getting a little discouraged with events so far this morning. Yet a feeling of normality blossomed, and amazingly I cast off the shadow, cheered up, made another mug of tea, and got on the computer straight away. Mainly to scribble notes to use later in this diary, while the thoughts were fresh in my mind. Which I did!
Then I got the updating of the Monday post done and posted off.
I’ve had better starts to a day! But hopes linger!
I added some bits to Pinterest, then spend an age on the TFZer Facebooking. But I enjoyed it. Mr Fries Virgin Media started and stayed playing up again. Spitworthy-Splurging-Sparrowhawks! Then went to make another brew of tea, gingerly, carefully and cautiously I might add. (Ha-ha!)
Then went on the WordPress Reader.
Well, I must stop now and get the ablutions done. Iceland delivery (Oh, fear of daft substitutions comes to mind!), then my precious sweet vampire Christina is calling to take my blood later. I put the handwashing in the bowl to soak before doing the cleansing of my ailment-ridden, torturously overburdened-bellied body-mass. Then off for the stand-up, cause it’s too early to make a noise with the shower.
Well, it didn’t take long before the first cock-up, did it? I got the shaving done first (one nick on the cheek) for a change.
As I stood back from the sink, I caught the four-pronged stick, fell backwards and clouted the side of my head and cheek against the dreaded sock-glide on my way to visit the rather hard floor” The sock-glide is now bent a bit! So are my elbow, knees and confidence, that was caused by the landing, not the glide! Grungle-Grumps!
The legs looked betterer this morning, though, less palish. Just noticed how I put the two photos together, at least I’m hiding the worst bits of my body, Hahaha! The teeth-cleaning went well, only one dropsy; the brush. The flannel once, and the carbolic soap. The refreshing and medicating afterwards; dropped the Haemorrhoid cream tube, olive oil bottle, then the body, spray (twice).
Got dried-off, and dressed, off to get the handwashing done. The Iceland deliveryman cometh. He kindly threw the bags into the kitchen for me, and I sorted out what was what. Or, not! I’m already looking forward to having the braised steak in onion gravy, the taste is fine, the main advantage is they are boil-in-the-bag, less chance of burning when… if, I fall asleep, no sauce to make either, so less washing up to do. Little things like this, mean a lot when you’re disabled and a bald, deaf, hard-of-seeing, overly-flobby-stomached, short, memory-tested, bespectacled, saccades-suffering septuagenarian! I lost the plot there again!
No substitutes! Some expertly squashed sliced wholemeal cobs, that I managed to return to something like their original shape. Some short-date satays, beef slices and pork & pickle pies. Got the canned goods, baked beans and tubers in the farraginous cupboard with the other stuff. To eat the short date products with time, might include me becoming even more overweight. Haha!
If only Christina comes early, I can get out to buy a replacement saucepan and something else, but I can’t remember what it was at the moment. I took some black bags to the waste chute. Then started to work on the graphic making on CorelDraw.
Tap-tap, bang from the electricians. The ‘Hum’ getting even louder. And it looks like Christina will not arrive in time for me get any shopping for saucepans and whatever the other thing is that I need. Most agravannoying!
Phlebotomy nurse vampire, the super-beautiful and highly desirable Christina arrived, a little earlier than expected. So, I might be able to catch the 10:30hrs bus to go and get some saucepans to replace those I’ve burned! Haha! She took the blood in her usual professional way, no bleeding from the vein, as usual (Oh she is good, and pulchritudinously, alluring, angelic, appealing, beauteous, charming, bewitching, and gorgeously pretty with it). She warned me of the oh, so cold weather outside. If only I was fifty-odd years younger, fitter, had hair, no ailments… Dream on Inchcock! Hahaha! Christina departed, sadly in her usual rush, bless her.
Recycle bags were made up, two large ones, and I got dressed and things ready to go for the bus. I remembered to take the bag of spuds I’d ordered by mistake from Iceland, to give to someone who could use them, it had enough potatoes in it for a meal for ten people!
You should have seen me struggling with the three-wheeled guide trolley and the two massive bags of waste for recycling! Getting out of the lift, I caught one bag against the door frame, dropped it, hit my head on the wall bending to retrieve it, gathered everything and then I saw a bloke waiting to get in the lift – if an expression ever spoke, his did! “What is this old fart messing about at!” He never spoke, he didn’t need to. I got the bags to the caretaker’s room, then on to the Wardens Detention and body-search Office, dropped the potato bag off, and walked to the Winwood Court Social Room and had a go at the crossword book. But the concentration was not good, I think my trying to make u[p my mind where to go for to buy the saucepans was bothering my dithering mind, so I hobbled through to the Winchester Court lobby.
Where I spotted something, I did not expect on the table there. A copy of the Financial Times Money paper!
I went out to the bus stop and took some more photographicalisations of Winwood Heights. I kept walking about to keep warm, gosh, it was nippy out there, and very windy with it!
AS more residents joined me at the shelter, the main topic of discord this morning, was the vehicles blocking the turning circle for the buses and emergency vehicles. I said nowt, but felt the workers had no other choice, as no parking spaces were available for them to use? Difficult situation.
Caught the bus with about twelve other tenants, who all got off in Sherwood. I decided in route, to go to Sainsbury’s in Daybrook to look for saucepans and get some nosh in. As I got off of the bus, Dizzy Dennis came on, but not badly, but it slowed me up and did my concentration no good. A few hazy bits in my memory of the visit. I do remember getting a cling-film wrapped set of three saucepans, all ready-made up (handles and lids not loose). Which was glad-making for me. It was the last on the shelves, too! I recall struggling to get around carrying it and coping with the walker-guide and getting things off of the shelves to buy.
I spent £18.60 in total, paid at the self-serve tills. Then, as I was going for the bus home, it dawned on me, I had not got the saucepans! I stopped near the exit doors and checked the receipt… no, I hadn’t paid for them anyway! What I had done with them remains a mystery. Did I leave them somewhere in the shop, or at the checkout? Ay-yay-yay! What an Eizel!
I caught the bus back to the flats. No doubt about it, Arthur Itis is going to start giving me trouble again. The occasional short sharp stabbing pains behind the knees, not often, were the clues and signs.
Back at Winwood Heights, I made my way to Winwood Court and through the link passage. I thought I was doing well, Chrissie and Betty overtook me, then, further along, two other ladies overtook me. Leaving me in their wake, so’s to speak. Hehehe! All four of them, pleasant ladies.
Over the next few hours, I took these pictures on the right of the page, of the sky from the unwanted, unneeded, unpopular, light and view-blocking, unable to get at to clean, photographers nightmare kitchen window.
Arthur Itis reminded me of what’s to come a few times.
I took the medications straight away so as not to forget. The thermometer is still not working properly. It just shows High or Low, no actual temperature levels at all? Puzzling that, it used to show details every time, but no longer! I suppose that I have pressed or set it up wrong during one of my dreaded and feared, confusing ‘Out-of-it’ spells? This thought got me pondering: If I snuff it during a ‘Blank’ spell, will I die not knowing I’d kicked-the-bucket? Would that be better than knowing at the time? Does it matter? Hehehe!
The things that sometimes permeate through and hassle my brain; I don’t mean the usual brain-storms, but these odd moments of pointless reflections, can be entertaining, but not until after they’ve been tackled or considered.
I got the kettle on, and stuff purchased put away. A cheap and a pricey washing-up liquid, distilled vinegar, baked beans, onion chutney, chilli-con-carne, Fancy flavoured Tuna for Josie’s meal next Sunday, orang biscuits, Viennese blondes, smoked almonds, Five-beans in tomato sauce, Mackerel for Josie, a bar of Galaxy chocolate, Lemon curd tarts, Milk Roll loaf, vine tomatoes, and a pack of two Italian brown Primora tomatoes. These tomatoes were not very large, but still £2 for two! I just hope they are as tasty as the ones I got last week from Ocado. Sainsbury is part of Ocado anyway, along with Waitrose.
I found this little snippet of information on Wednesday morning:
BBC News Feb 2020. Marks & Spencer and Ocado have confirmed a deal which will give the High Street retailer a home delivery service for the first time. M&S will buy a 50% share of Ocado’s retail business for £750m. The joint venture will be called Ocado and will deliver M&S grocery products from September 2020 at the latest, when Ocado’s deal with Waitrose expires. Under the deal, Ocado will also continue to supply its own-label products and big-name branded goods.
Which pleases me a lot. I cannot get to M&S in Nottingham easily. There are escalators to get down to the basement food store, which prior to the stroke, were of no problem for me. But now I have to use the elevator, which means so much more hobbling with the walker-guide to get there, and again to get out again with a full trolley.
The nosh was prepared and served up. Chicken and vine tomato Dagwood-Style sarnies, new potatoes, mushrooms, garden peas and beetroot. A lemon curd yoghourt and drink of orange cordial flavoured spring water for afters. I ate the whole lot of it! Not a scrap left on the plate!
Got the washing up done, thought about doing the handwashing, but chickened out. Then got my head down early even for me, but I was so weary. Sweet Morpheous came within minutes, ah, bliss! My worries and fears stop when I sleep… unless the nightmares start of course.
The banging on the door and ringing of the chimes woke me up! Growls of Grumpworthiness! I somehow got out of the recliner and to the door, with the brain caching me up. I was still drained and so confused. Josie was there and a big bloke with a clipboard. Then I found myself with Josie’s tray and cutlery on it, from last Sunday’s meal I’d cooked for her… then in the flat with the ID tag missing man, 6’2″, stocky, dark brown hair. I asked him (I think), Why he was checking in Water usage? He replied, ‘We want to know who has baths or showers fitted…’, but he still didn’t tell me who or where he was from! (These details I found on the scribble pad in the morning).
I was so pissed-off at being woken up, it doesn’t matter that people would not expect anyone to be sleeping so early; my rest was knackered! And getting back to sleep took me ages! Amidst swearing and spitting out words of hatred at being disturbed again!
What an odd day! A day of changeable, poignant, fragmentary, haphazard, mental bocks, absent-mindedness and confusion, and Grumpworthiness!
I panicked and blundered about, tearing off the jammies and PPs to get seated in time, and made it with barely a second to spare, and trapped my right hand between my body and the seat. Not realising the limb was stuck, until the Neurotransmitter nerves failure, was kind enough to let the brain know! By then, the evacuation had started, and I became aware of the bruised knuckles as I painfully removed the hand. 
The operator lady was kind, and patient enough with me when I told her I’d set it off by accident. Bless her! Obviously, I didn’t go into any detail about my Faux pas! Although, perhaps I should have, to highlight the problem of not hearing the voice-box when in the wet room? Then again, we are all not hard-of-hearing. Like a few of us who cannot hear the fire-alarm activation, either. That was a Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating start to the day and early morning. Worra Whoopsiedangleplop and-a-half! Tsk! 
I got on with updating yesterday’s blog. I soon found that the famously unreliable and pathetic, inadequate Global-Liberty Virgin Media Internet was still causing me problems with not saving again. But I managed with a little forced never-mind-attitudinalisticalness adopted and used. 
I started, what would turn out to be a marathon session on graphicationalisationing. But I to stop after an hour or two, to 
I got the meal served up on a large plastic bowl, that would hold all the gravy, with less chance of me spilling any. (It didn’t work though, Hahaha!) A sourdough baguette, and a lemon curd yoghourt for afters. 
I didn’t enjoy the cleaning up of the crumbs, spilt gravy, peas, and bits of leeks up from my over-abundant belly-folds, legs, the chair and the seat, though! 
02:05hrs: Well that was a better nights kip, over 5½hrs! Great! I felt like I had had a good sleep, too! 
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! 
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. 
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 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. 
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.
They don’t half get dirty, don’t they? Took me ages and a lot of effort to get it looking something like alright!
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!
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 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 came back to life. (Well, that was a bonus to start with, Hehehe!) Felt weary, looked at the clock, which indicated to me that it was 00:25hrs. The cal to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and almost started on its own, a bit of urgent buttock-clenching, helped me get out of the £300 second-hand recliner and to the wet room, barely in time. 
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! 
I g
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. 
The Throne session was not a good one. Massive, slow and messy with a surprising amount of discomfort. At least it gave me a chance to have a go at the crossword. It was painful when I stood up after so long sat with bent knees. Arthur Itis wasn’t happy about it at all. I recalled bits of a horrible dream I’d had, a bully of a shop manager kept throwing me out, and threatening me with the sack?
A clean-up, and off to the kitchen. I got the kettle on and took the medications. 
The fingers were tingling and a tad annoying. 
And then… I only need the Porcelain Throne again! Arthur Itis is now as mad as he has ever been with me. This is not good! And I have to keep getting up for a wee-wee! They were all, up to now, of the PLSE (Persistent-Long-Spraying-Everywhere) style! Which some else to fret about, I just cannot control the evacuations at all. Just keep kitchen towels and disinfectant nearby to use, and a tube of Phorpain gel 
for Arthur’s knees. I think it’s fair to say, a modicum of depression is building up! The pins (legs) looked the same pot-mark-wise as earlier, but they seem to be getting a smidge more colour? Just a couple of more blood-papules. I’ll recheck them after the ablutions are done, this is a rarity! Hahaha! 
I had to absquatulate for a wee-wee, this was a bit different, of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painful) style. I got the grey bucket emptied, rinsed and sanitised, and decided to get the handwashing done. Going to be a slow job getting the jammie-bottoms dry. The socks and long-sleeve t-shirt will be okay, being thinner.
I took the black, and recycling bags down to Caretaker Stewart room. We shared some Rabelaisian humour, handed over the nibbles, and then returned to the flat, and checked to see how far on the Tracker had gone. Perhaps he’s having his dinner? The driver who is taking it to the dispatch place, I wonder where that is? Bit it is still hours away from there, then someone has to come to Nottingham with the stuff. It’s going to be hard to stay awake. Oh, dearie me! Dangwangles and damn!
his work. Ahem! 
bigger) leg.
I got the medications taken, pleased to see that I had not missed last evenings doses. Humph! And what an unreliable memoried Shlub I am! As usual, the ‘Hum’ was loud, with the odd tap-tap and gurgling noise. (Thrown in every now and then, up until 0500hrs?) Why, where from, what was making these noises, remains part of the mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court, that lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, offering illusions, delusions, & hallucinations. Exasperated sigh! I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, no sooner made, than the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off to the wet-room, I shuffled, and still feeling in good nick, physically. 
I eventually got the blog done and posted off. I made another brew, this time Glenghetti, and ‘blow-me-down-with-a-feather-duster’, I needed the Throne again! All went well as the first visit did. I had time to check-out the pins (legs) and took a photo. Apart from being different sizes to each other again, they looked good to me, apart from the veins.
I had a look outside and photographed what looked like smoke from a fire in the dark. I took regular pictures for the next few hours of the City Hospital and area smoke. I’ve put them all here o the right, earliest shots down to the last one. 
Aha! The intercom rang and flashed. 
I never got around to doing any graphics in the end. Too drained now. I put the handwashing in the bowl to soak and got a meal prepared. 
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung. 
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.
l 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. 
Then made the brew and took the medications. 
me some hassle. Duodenal Donald was stabbing at me. And I ha
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 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! 
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! 
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. 
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. 
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. 
smug, I poddled to the kitchen. 
ebook. 
think it must have been the colouring in the wetroom
We both went into the Asda (Walmart) store. I was suffering from Dizzy Dennis’s attentions, and staggering about a bit, but pressed on, arriving later at the self-serve checkout. I noticed a new checkout system had been built, title Swipe & Go? I came out with vine tomatoes, wholemeal bread rolls, a milk roll loaf, two yoghourts, milk and cox’s apples. A lot of the food had gone up in price. Suddenly, the already costly £1.30 cobs were £1.35, the yoghourt had gone up, and I noticed many other goods on the shelves had increased in price? 
I paid up, left and made my way to the Fulton Foods shop. Where I spent a bit more on; sterilised milk (2), beetroot (2), Galaxy darker-milk chocolate bars with hazelnuts (8), Battered fish fingers and fishcakes (The meal for tonight?), and cooked beef misshapes £1. 
I arrived at the bus stop, and Jean-Mary was sat in the shelter with her trolley. The first thing she said was: “Yo’ alright? yer don’t look too good?” She was right. I didn’t fell up too much at all. The journey on the bus back to the flats memory is a little thin. I’m sure I was nattering to someone as well as Mary-Jean, but can’t think who. Then I do remember waking up several times and nodding off again. Hehe! 
Served it up, and feasted fervently! A decidedly worthy taste-rating of 7.5/10 given for this effort. 
word, a