Inchy Today: Monday 12th May 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

In this Ode, I’ll not mention Starmer,
See that? I’m already a proven liar!
I’m not an activator, actuator or advocator,
Believing once Labour got in power…
It would be a poor man’s financial alleviator,
Not a disabled and pensioner aggravator!
Nor a doom and gloom annunciator,
Our future has never been bleaker,
I don’t trust the HMG, MP, PM or speaker,
Labour: experts in taking a backhander,
I could kick him up his detrusor…
Jinx or hex him; it’d be my pleasure!
My loathing gets ever deeper,
Keir’s decisions get even creepier,
Voters crumbling-hopes get damneder,
His clever use of semi-lies & implicature…
Prevents prosecution… he is a barrister!
Who freed child killers & an axe murderer,
He’s responsible for killing off many a pensioner,
Bankrupting the family farmer…
Feathering his own nest, a meshuggener?
The man is a nihilist, self-profit-seeking,
His expense claims: do they need questioning?
No doubt about it, he’s a naysayer,
He’s likely suffering from peniaphobia,
Scared to death of becoming a pauper,
With brain cells ever working, reticular,
I noticed he’s also a slangwhanger,
He’s earned an early sepulchre,
The slower & more painful, the better!
I may sound like a hard-done-to squaller,
These odes prove I’m a schlepper…
With Starmer being a snollygoster,
He commits crimes, lies & sclaunder…
He gets away with it; that’s spectacular!
That’s because he was a high-class lawyer,
The perfect con man & thimblerigger,
As a PM, naturally, he’s titular,
He got elected because he’s a liar,
Two-faced, deceitful, a conniver,
A guilty promise-breaker
An oathed decision reverser,
A farmer & pensioner depriver,
One other thing in particular,
He also got, is, uranomania!
Divinity? He believes it! Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

05:20hrs: I shot out of bed and leapt over the second-hand shop bought nine years ago for £300, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner. Doing a backward summersault, landing face down, and after doing a few hundred press-ups… 
It’s no good; I’m such a terrible fibber!
I inched my legs off of the bed. The catheter contraption straps were painful this morning. I detached the nocturnal catheter bag and rose rather too quickly to get the cream and rub some on the leg straps on the leg. I fell backwards on the corner of the bed and felt bleeding.
So, with the bum and top of the leg bleeding, I hobbled into the kitchen to check the taps and stove initially. But I got sidetracked when I saw the amazingly clear sky. I got Kodak Tim Two and took this snap of the clouds. Then, I took another wider shot. The Sun was already beginning to come through from behind and causing a mist on the horison.

I went to the wet room, where I decided to tend to the mess before applying the barrier cream. I cleaned the few teeth I had left and used the mouthwash. I then realised I had not put in the hearing aids. So, I went to fetch and fit them to see if anyone should call early. With the hearing aids in, I heard a strange noise from the kitchen—a tinkling sound.
Yee Gods! The fourth time in three days! Grrr!
Luckily, it had not been running too long, and the hot water was still reasonably hot enough for me to get the shaving done.
Get ready for this, folks… Dang dang, dang, Dang!
Not a single nick, let alone cut shaving!  
A fair bit of medicationings was needed. But I’ve had worse, so no complaints.
Cleaned the glasses. Did a hearing aid battery check. Olive oiled the earholes. Dry eye spray was used. Then, the Blepharitis gel. Phorpain gelled both of Arthur Itis’s knees. Both cartilages, Chloe & Carole, are at the back of the knees. I barrier creamed my armpits, underneath my man breasts and groin, paying careful attention to SOSTH (Spanish Onion Sized Testicle Henry). Below my bulging belly, my still bleeding rear-end sternum. Germolened both ankle ulcers. Then, I got new straps onto the catheter contraption. Barrier creamed them before fitting. Then I tackled .
I’m using the new-to-me Terbinafine hydrochloride cream. I’m also applying the new dropper before the much-feared pain of rubbing it in  Med Hydr I can assure you that it was thrown in the waste bin! I’ll never use that again! I shall stick with Betamethasone in the future, even if I have to buy it. Too Painful? YES! This session took a long time to complete. Of course, getting the Protection Pants on was the usual farce. Do they make anything similar to the ones on the right here? It’s suitable that I should put him on the right. Because he’s the most Tory-like Labour Prime Minister ever! Hahaha!

As I noticed the Prison alarm was flashing last night, I didn’t expect to see it again this morning. I got Kodak Tim x2 and took this very poor close as I could get to it to take a snap of the Alarm Flashing (Escaped Prisoner). But it had stopped by the time I’d prattled about to get the shot. Just my luck not to have taken it earlier. Tsk!
Carer Ejaz arrived. Bless him.
I told them of whatever they were last night, which left me in a time-lapse
, confused and nervous.
The lad listened. He then sorted out my NHS breakfast.
Then, Ejaz barrier-creamed where I could not reach, mainly my feet, ankles, and back. Next, he put my diabetic socks on my feet for me.
Then he did a quick hoovering around for me. Bless him.

I got tucked into creating today’s Anti-Starmer Ode.
I was about half an hour into it, and the intercom chimed out. It was Matron. She measured me up for the wheelchair setting up. Checked my BP returns, and I waffled on about last night’s time-warping and total confusion. She reminded me to make sure I got an appointment with the Doctor. I explained that only when the Carer is on a Wednesday and Joe is prepared to go with me. Joe will remember and explain things better than I could on my own.
I think other things were discussed. Yes, Matron Jackie will ask the Doctor if I can have an oxygen level monitor. I have no idea what that actually means. I’ll look it up on Mr. Google.

Back to the Ode writing.

A series of mini-seizures came over the next few hours. Kyboshed my creativity and concentration.

Carre Joe arrived. He thinks I may have been falling asleep, which is a possibility. However, I was getting many feelings of dizziness, and my eyes seemed foggy for a few minutes, which I usually put down to my coming out of a seizure. Who knows? Not me!

Carer Ejaz made the next call. Socks taken off. Medications were issued. We had a little natter, and he was in a rush but asked if he could take my photo with my sunglasses on. Well, ever the budding model, I agreed. A handsome-looking brute! Hahaha!

I showed my prepared-earlier nosh in the microwave pot. Ejaz took a photo of that as well! He shot off after that.

I got the Ode finished and into the blog.

I went to the kitchen to ensure I’d not left anything unsafe. I put the potatoes in the dish and put them into the microwave oven.

Boy, what a view I took in these snaps of the quickly disappearing Sun. Bootiful!

Amazing Night Glow!
Then, a closer shot.
I think the eyes of the Sun were
from some trees on the horizon.
GREAT!

It’s late now, and the spuds are in the oven. I’m giving up on the blog, but the meal tempts me!
The Morrisons bread rolls were tasteless and tough.
Everything else was gorgeous!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Here’s a four-leaf clover
– X – X – X – X –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Sunday 11th May 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Into power Starmer did hurdle,
Now, we await his downward hurtle,
He looks mundane, boring and sensible,
Proved winning power was accomplishable,
At lying, he’s fluently forked-tongueable,
Truth to him is customisable,
Like his excuses, taking treats from Arsenal,
Despite his proving to be adorkable,
His stealing from pensioners was awful!
To him, greed & dishonesty is normal,
I’m in decrial; he has my disapproval…
Unfortunately, he’s unremovable,
Despite his dishonesty & being dubitable,
Despite proving to be adorkable,
Taking backhanders, & acquisitional,
I’m bald, but he makes my hair bristle!
I’d like to meet him, in a quiet twitchel…
To declare my feelings, which are emotional,
I stew in hatred, sink into a dwall,
All I can do is write anti-Starmer doggerel!
The scum-ball makes me so epithetical,
I’ve never known a PM so pathetical…
I hope his reign will be expediential,
This Labour party; can it be extirpable?
To socialism, he’s not endemical,
His policies seem enigmatical,
I can’t see a party that could be a rival.
Tories? Sunak turned them suicidal,
LibDems and Greens, both hopeful,
Reform, a far-right furuncle?
Starmer’s a bully, so says his uncle,
Words not to describe Keir? Affable & merciful,
Starmer’s end may be happenstantial!
Send a bottle of gin laced with weedkiller?
Naughty, but I’d like to see his funeral,
I’d love to be there at his beheadal,
Good heavens, I brought on a smile!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Labour admits disability cuts will force 250,000 people (including 80,000 children & pensioners) into poverty.

Keir Starmer’s Labour Government are cutting almost £ 5 billion from the Welfare budget via targeted attacks on the sick and disabled. This will include excluding young disabled people (aged 18–21) from incapacity benefits. This “Spring Statement” has finally revealed the Labour Government’s impact statement. It says that more than 1,000,000 disabled people will lose their disability benefits.

The Labour attack on disability benefits will ultimately push 250,000 people (including 50,000 children) into poverty. It’s a sickening and frightening situation for hundreds of thousands of disabled Brits.

Awful. 
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

04:14hrs: Sorted the catheter contraption bags.

Carer Ejaz appeared as I was starting the computer.
He did a good job. He medicated the catheter strap wounds and those on the left wrist and arm.
Then, I put on the diabetic socks. Ejaz graded the nocturnal catheter wee-wee. He quickly checked the torso for bruises and creamed a couple of them.
He checked the taps and stoves and reported that I’d left the hot water tap running. Tsk!

So, no ablutions were able to be done this morning! But the first call to the wetroom.

Took this snap…
Just as Cartilage Chloe gave way, I hit my elbow on the way down against the radiator.
Landing on Cartilage Carole’s right knee, the strap on the catheter contraption shot off, and the tube gave poor Little Inchie a hell of a tug! Naturally, I just laughed it off.
Getting into the other room on all fours was painful, as I was trying to hold onto the loose strap to prevent another tugging session!
Naturally, I just laughed it off.
After what felt like an hour or more, I had to leave the walking stick behind. I got to the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner.
Naturally, I just laughed it off.
Hauling my flobby-wobbly body up onto the recliner, I twisted to get myself to sit down. I soon recovered enough, rose gingerly onto my feet, and hobbled back to the kitchen to get the walking stick. I pressed on… right against the ingrowing toenail again!
Naturally, I just laughed it off.
After giving off a howl, growl, and a bit of swearing, I reclaimed the walking stick.
I caught the wristlet alarm and set it off!
Naturally, I just laughed it off.

A few fibs above, I believe!

I took this snap and sat down for some R&R.

Carer Joe woke me for the early afternoon call. Not that I could recall much about it.

I sat down again, nibbled some crisps, and returned to the computer.

I heard the intercom chiming and got up to find it was Carer Rosma. The watch told me it was eight o’clock. Which my befuddled brain thought was in the morning. (I now know it was evening), and I did not have the medications? I thought that Carer Rosma had got the time wrong.
I’m not sure what happened there, but I did post Saturday’s blog and started on this without recalling doing either!
Seizures? Effects of the tumble? Arithmaphobia? Did I fall asleep? Ménière’s disease? FND?

Very few photos were taken. Oh, dearie me

The notepad had a fair bit of scribble, with very little being decipherable. 

Community Nurse Rebbeca on her unexpected visit. She checked the cartilage strappings. She said, “If you have any trouble, call me.” What about? A total mystery to me. I didn’t get any Warfarin because I thought it was morning and had a vague recollection, which I put on the blog earlier, that Carer Joe had been. A worrying episode!
I must remember to ask Joe about it in the morning or whenever he calls. And add it to the Doctor problems to take with us during the appointment.

Honestly, I can’t recall taking these incredible clouds

I went to look for what to have for my meal and found I’d made a microwave meal and put it in the fridge. I’m a bit concerned now.

No wash or shave. Lost hours in the day. Took a tumble. Left the hot water tap running. Exceedingly weird seizures and loss of time & events. 

I’ll get the fodder from the fridge and hopefully catch up in the morning.

For the first time, I was uneasy about my new form of complete time confusion, and realising it was morning when it was night took me a long time. Time, clock, and numbers could indicate that my arithmaphobia is getting more severe. Sorting out the memory timewise almost hurt my brain. I kept skipping between the believed wrong time and returning to the present, inevitably suffering another trip out of the real-time zone repeatedly. And momentarily, if not for longer. I felt positive I was in the correct period. This made working things out even harder. Hopefully, a nurse or even the Doctor may read this, appreciate the severity and the worry it brings, and get me an earlier appointment to see the Doctor.

In the morning, I tried to explain the time discrepancies to Carer Ejaz as best I could.
I’m not convinced he cottoned onto what I was saying. No feedback.

Bean stew with added pickled water chestnuts and brown gungo beans.
TASTY!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Wednesday 7th May 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The fragrant beauty of the moonflower,
The falling leaves from the magnolia,
Signs of Spring, from the family Rosaceae,
Tulips will be growing in Andover,
Recalling my young days, I go a quiver,
Recollecting my tussles with woman-power,
In the grass, cuddles, gropes… Wowser!
I refer, of course, to my beloved Grizelda,
As our relationship did blossom & flower,
Living here lonely now, in Winchester…
Most nights, I hear Grizelda whisper,
I explain how I desperately miss her,
Grizelda; the best ever lover & groper,
Harder than any gobstopper…
Big, muscular, strong, but genteeler,
Galactic, like mythological Galaxia…
She was never the gongoozler…
Rather more the sex organ activator,
My desire, my fire, my inveigler,
A powerful scented windbreaker,
A passionately strong lovemaker,
Autumn leaves fall from the sycamore,
Grizelda was taken, I see her no more,
She was my love, my supporter,
I imagine, dream & remember…
I still love and often serenade her,
In my mind, this may sound like Bilgewater,
She wards off my Neuralgia & Dementia…
I recall her caring benignity…
She loved my childlike poetry,
Her passion, with its forceful articulacy,
Our passion? I was the beneficiary,
I pray to meet her again, cacophonously,
She’s in my every catalepsy, is Grizzly,
I’ll die, not circumspectly or tentatively…
Hoping she’ll be waiting, eager to again maul me!
Enjoying contact, love and contiguity!
Forgive my being slightly delusionary, Hehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It’s another busy day. Wednesdays are busy nowadays. Usually, Carer Joe does the weekly long call. Last week, before he arrived, I told myself to mention that I’d not have any cash to pay the monthly bills from those who do not take payment by cash card. This morning, I remembered that I still had no money to pay my debts.
Joe came to the rescue and took me to the ATM. We also got a bit of food. Boy, did I enjoy getting out? 
Joe changed the routine and got the laundry ready to go down with us. Joe also helped me prepare the trolley and other things to take out. However, I failed to remember to take the camera with me. Huh! 
When we got to the ground floor, all the machines were in use, so we had to wait until one was free. There were delays at every turn on this trip. Joe had a limited time—three hours, I think. He said we could collect the finished laundry on the way back from the ATM. Then he walked me to his pap-pap and somehow got me in it. That was painful, but it didn’t matter. Once in all, it was comfort. It was filled up when we got to the car park down Winchester Street! More delays! The third car park we tried had one free space! We moved to the road and shop with the ATM. It was broken down. 

Then, to the Co-op ATM. That had broken down.
Then, to the Continental Shops ATM. Got the dosh.

I bought some great-priced Compass canned meals there. Then I went back to the car park and up to the flats.

We’d spent so long over the ATMs that Joe had no time to dry the washing. He brought it up, and we hung it all over. A great job Joe did.

Commuter playing up.
I’m struggling. If I get the computer looked at, I’ll put pictures on quickly and catch up tomorrow.

Amazing – the moon has a ghost?

Glengettie & Spring water, and Soda water.
Drinkies to fill the catheter bag.

Joe took me to the ATM; what a farce!
But by gum, I loved getting out, feeling

I was safe if any seizures or tumbles came.

Got back to the flat.
Late, of course. No time for Joe to do the spin-drying with the ATMs not working.

A few nibbles I bought.

We hung the damp laundry all over the place. Haha!On the kitchenette Windows.
Socks on the airer in the hallway.
Hallway airing cupboard doors.
And on the main room door.

Skin-on wedge chips, slightly-seasoned.
As recommended by Carer Joe.
Stopping here. Computer toying with me.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Must get some help with it.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
In a pickle!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Sunday 4th May 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

<<<>>><<<>>>
Grim: Ayup, what yer up to dumbo?
Inchy: Photoing the sunset, catching it low.
Grim: You like nature, don’t you?
Inchy: I used to like women, but now it’s a no-no!
Grim: How does it help, watching the sun go?
Inchy: It doesn’t, no cuddles or fandango…
No sex or snogging makes me feel so low,
Grim: There’s nowt I can do to help though!
Inchy: A bit of good news? Should I try Ginko?
Grim: Nae, it’s no good, does nowt for you!
Inchy: News? Is there owt I should know?
Grim: I’ll soon be telling yer to get ready to go!
Inchy: That’s alright, I want to talk to St Peter,
Grim: Oh, he’s a proper keen abnegator…
Inchy: Are you saying he’s real… St. Peter?
Grim: I shouldn’t really tell yer…
as you’ll croak out sooner rather than later,
Inchy: Yes, yes, okay, please tell me…
Grim: I really shouldn’t oughter…
St Peter was invented by a Grim Reaper,
Inchy: You? Was it you who invented Peter?
Grim: Well, yes, I had to make it obscure,
So earthlings would never be sure…
Inchy: Yes, yes, yes, tell me more…
Grim: I’d hate victim’s death to be vin ordinaire,
Inchy: I think you really care!
Grim: I do, I do, look at what we share!
Neither of us can have sexual rumpy-pumpy,
Inchy: Very accurate, not our fault, amazingly,
Grim: We’ve no friends apart from each other,
Inchy: Yes, all and sundry can, annoyingly…
Grim: Starmer is our mutual archenemy,
Inchy: True, spot-on accuracy!
Grim: Neither of us show animosity…
Although we both share an animosity,
Inchy: Do we really?
Grim: Yes, towards Heaven & Hell surprisingly,
You accept death most acquiescingly!
Inchy: That’s cause life’s gone miserably,
Grim: They’ll rebirth me, non-consentingly,
With no freaking regrets or apology!
Inchy: The swine, absolutely!
Grim: 2000 years plus, I’ve been reaping!
Without stopping or ever sleeping,
Not one soul collected ever went missing…
Inchy: They’ve treated you abominably…
Grim: Hence, I share your misery, Inchy,
Inchy: Anything I can do to help, possibly?
Grim: We face futures brokenheartedly,
You for not dying, me for reliving…
Inchy: What are you saying?
Grim: When you die, I’ll not collect your soul,
Inchy: Can you not make an appeal?
Grim: To God or the Devil, you cannot appeal,
Even I don’t know if they’re real…
their decision sends me apoplectical,
your world, soon to be mine, is adumbral,
Inchy, what should I be anticipating?
Inchy: Gun crime, motor vehicle crime,
breaking & entry, Islamophobic crime, 
homophobic crime, wars, Transgender crimes.
starvations, price rises, bent politicians,
Oligarchs, illuminati, global-warmings,
financial greed, bumfuzzling, pickpocketing,
transgressions, sexual deviations & violations,
depravities, injuries, scandals, altercations,
lawbreaking, delinquencies, corruptions,
injustices, illegalities, death, criminalities,
murders, sins, atrocities, evils, abominations,
monstrosities, cybercrimes, manslaughters,
greed, backhanders, muggings, road raging,
armed assaults, drug wars, blackmailing,
prices rise, corporate fiddling, PM’s lying…
domestic violence, jealousy, child molesting,
antisemitic crime, rude awakenings,
Racist, religious hate crime, thieving…
Grim: Whoa, whoa… I was only joking!
<<<>>><<<>>>
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:00hrs: I woke up; the moment I moved, I was greeted with severe pains in my left & right feet.  Onychovryptosis Ingrowing Toenails, damaged during the cutting, I had to pay £35 for last Friday. Bad as the pain was, I think it was a smidgeon easier than yesterday, but that was absolute agony! I decided then not to have the diabetic socks put on today. But daren’t leave them off for too long. Or the leg growths will start to leak again. I can’t win! Haha! Honestly, I do try!
I removed and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch. I poured some into an old clear plastic yoghourt pot for the Carer to assess the NHS colour grading chart for me later, and then I took a photo of it (5.5 on the scale)


Moving to the kitchen after imagining that I’d done my balance exercises, I stubbed my right toe against the ottoman. A few curses, with a fair degree of swearing later, ARRGH!
The same left foot with the big toe was the problem a second time. I took a kitchenette shot en route to the wet room to visit the Porcelain Throne. Trosky’s comeback from yesterday was short-lived.
Had returned. A reluctant whopper was eventually released into the water, which needed three flushes, then a prod with a bamboo cane and a third flush to encourage it to the sewer. I hope it doesn’t cause a blockage. Hehehe!

07:00 hrs, Carer Ejaz arrived. He seemed happier today. I think my saying the socks will have to be left off and telling him why cheered him a little. The medications were issued, and he dabbed some barrier cream on the ingrowing toenails. Well, it might help. He also put some on the rough, thickening right ankle of .
Ejaz took these two shots of feet and poot little and big toes. The big toes seem to have gotten larger overnight? Is that possible? Both hallux toes also seemed to be curling beneath the other toes? Does anyone else out there have or had this before? The smaller toes seem to be more bent? Hey-Ho! Ajaz checked the torso for scabs, bruises, or wounds but found none. Well, a few new red-spot growths on the right top thigh. They come and go at will. After the lad had gone, I went to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea and took this snap on the right when I saw how the sky had reddened.

At 13:30 hrs, Carer Jasmin arrived. She examined the toes and applied some Savlon. She said the toes (the ingrowing pair) had been cut down far too much when they were cut, Jasmin said.

Carer ‘Joe’ did the teatime call; he’s a good bloke.

Baked potatoes in husks, frankfurters, and nothing else. Well, I had an ice cream cornet for afters.

Night shots of the dramatic-looking sky.
And a close-up to follow.
They had a dour beauty, do you think?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
🤎Have a bundle of glee from me!🤎
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy Today: Saturday 3rd May 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – Or summat like that – –
<<<>>><<<>>>
What controls one’s advertences?
Without them, you’ve mental curtains,
Which blocks your observations,
Lose your morals and convictions,
Dreams, inspirations and motivations,
You may select the wrong adorations,
Bringing on unwanted altercations,
Also, financial complications,
Getting interest rate reductions?
Do you doze off during meditations?
Do you struggle with DIY contraptions?
Why not consult enchiridions?
Do you use too many idioms?
Do you get drawn into fixations,
Understand your own contemplations?
Do you have naughty inclinations?
Do you mix with Oligarchs or patricians?
Comfortable amidst the proletarians?
How rarely do we question the criterions,
Not all criteria of verifications…
These can be classed as desideratums,
It’s vital to carry out investigations,
And done with great intentness’s,
Their objectives, ambitions, & intentions,
Find out their aim with negotiations,
Tell them it with confabulations,
Or conversations or consultations,
Don’t use the word investigations!
After scrutinisations, & observations,
Re your resulting appraisements…
No ballpark figures or approximations,
Declarations, not propositions,
Release only certitudes, positive decisions,
Analyse your ascertainments,
Then, create new recommendations,
Plainly, this is mostly theorisations…
I am not surprised I get mental altercations!
<<<>>><<<>>>
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –


I fell asleep last night in the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. Woke up several times overnight, but far less than when I was in the hospital bed. Around 04:30hrs, I woke again and decided to get up and catch up early on the blog. The mind was willing enough, but the body sort of said to me, ‘Sod off!’ Several times. I could not get back to sleep; a few bouts of eye-drooping were the best I could achieve. I lurched from the recliner, noticing the time was 06:20 hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag, and plans changed when I got up and started the gentle morning balance exercises. The wind erupted from my hindquarters; long, loud, noisily, and aromatically contaminated the room. Off to the wet room, I trudged. By the time I got there and sat down on the Porcelain Throne, the agony from my toes was as painful as it had ever been! Only Anne Gyna and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion are that bad. I thought they hurt a lot when they were cut yesterday. £35 I had to pay for this torture session, too! Haha! To rub it in, I had to clean up endless toenail clippings when the Carer spotted them later on the carpet.
I did not wash or shave, but did I rinse the teggies? I put it down to the pain I’d got and had all day every time I had to stand up and or walk. I unlocked the door as I exited the room so the Carer could get in later. My getting up late annoysed me. My plan to catch up on the blog was in ruins. The new four-wheeled walker attracted my attention, and I tried again to get the loose right handlebar stiffened. I failed, of course. 

Carer Ejaz arrived. He made me proud this morning. He assessed the urine rating, issued medications, and then changed my catheter bag. Next, he did a full-body check for new wounds or bruises. New spots on my leg and another bruise on my back were found. He then ointmentated both ankle lesions and legs with barrier cream under the men’s breasts, arms, and in the crutch near the catheter tube. I reckon that the right Lymphorrhoea Leslie’s lower leg, which had been bleeding overnight, had dried up well enough and was reduced in size. But things with Leslie change day by day.

I went out on the balcony to take two shots. That rain we had earlier leaked onto the car park’s end. But we still need more rain here. It’s unnatural that so little rain is falling
A skyward shot next. What beautiful cloud formations we get. Always differing.

At long last, I got on the computer to update and post the Friday blog on WordPress. It took me hours, but still.

Midday Carer. He took a look at the new walker handgrips for me. I turned the gripper, and it came loose! This could bode unwell!
The skies were even more interesting.
The top shot was to the left of the kitchenette window. The bottom one to the right.
You wouldn’t think they were the same sky.

As the day progressed, the pain from the ingrowing toenails worsened. Walking at times required two sticks; the pain from both nails was so bad. I decided to try to get a bowl with disinfectant in the water, to wash my feet. Getting the bowl filled and into the room near the recliner was a struggle. Dettol was added, and a towel was taken in. But I could not get the diabetic socks off until the Carer arrived.

The Carer came on the last visit and timed it perfectly, and the water was still hot enough.
She removed the socks, and I got my feet in the water.
After two minutes in the bowl, she fretted about being late for her next call. She dried the feet with kitchen towels and kindly applied some barrier cream to Lymphoedema Leslie’s thick, cracked skin on both ankles. Bless her. Cleaning up after was a struggle because, as usual, the toenails sting for a while after doing the feet. Getting off to sleep took me ages, and I was also tired.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Evening All!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy Today: Thursday 1st May 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Unexpected things that can turn us into addicts, 
Have you considered antibiotics? 
What’s hidden in the needles of acupuncturists?
I’m not trying to be an alarmist…
I only wrote this in a little jest!
<<<<X>>>>
Criminals options; To be an abductor?
Take a bribe or backhander
Or, be a Harrod’s shoplifter?
Easy to become a pensioner killer?
Like Starmer, who’s also a liar!
<<<<X>>>>
Have you ever not voted? Abstained?
Allowed your payments to get behind?
Not paying your electricity bill, cozened?
Is your bank balance getting smaller or dwined?
Are food costs driving you out of your mind?
Have your hopes and plans now disloigned?
Is life no longer fun? Think you have failed?
This will be due to one man who conned & lied…
The voters now feel they’ve been deluded,
He’s murdered pensioners, totally unoppugned!
With any opposition now knackered…
I think Kerr should be prosecuted!
Imprison him, but he should be executed!
<<<<X>>>>
I suppose I should be feeling guilty…
Saying that about Starmer was naughty,
He is the P.M. and quiet portly,
The first thing he did was to rob my heating money,
So, I don’t think he’s a nice honey-bunny!
Then, he took £ 6,000 in gifts, shaming HMG,
Prices are rising so fast and dramatically…
<<<<X>>>>

Window cleaners’ prices increase by 20%.
The podiatrist the same, 20%,
Milk Roll Sliced Bread, up 29%
The bank manager is not acquiescent,
Electricity costs up 33.3%!
Many more, all with Starmer’s consent,  
The populations plebeians not complaisant,
And Starmer remains calmly arrant!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I’m miles behind again.
I’ll have to cut down on content with so many things going on, including medical and disabled callers. I’ve got on today. No, two today. Got to learn the new equipment controls on one call. The other concerns the new Cognitive Impairment situation (I think).
I’ll try to keep the Odes coming.

Whoops.
Whoops! Where did the bruised eye come from?
Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court’s hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials,  spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas strike again!

Ah, my ankles and legs are a bit better!
They change either shapes, colours or severity every day that Carer Ejaz does a body check.

Tomorrow morning, you can read about the biggest mystery this year. No idea how to explain it now, but I’ll sort something out by way of an explanation. When I figure out what happened.

Finished in the wet room.

View from the kitchenette.
These, top & below…
Taken by Carer Ejaz.
After checking the legs, acne, and eczema and noting the new bruises on my body, he proceeded to check the safety features.

After noon snaps.
Front car park.

An unknown mystery about these scratch bruises on my left arm. When Carer ‘Joe’ made his only call of the day, he took the snap as I explained what I could of what had caused the issue. Mainly so he could tell the Doctor if I ever got an appointment with her, as she had demanded. For a Wednesday so the Carer can go with me.

Sweet & Sour vegetable dish.
With Kung-Po sauce added and mixed in.
Oh, and some garden peas added!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Entered Friday 0818hrs.
MYSTERY INJURIES

Best as I can remember.
Which is in far less detail than what I explained to Carer ‘Joe’, or I think it is.
I was just finishing working on the blog. In the process of saving the work, I recalled that I was getting into a state of disorientation and thought I’d better not continue…

Next, I recall being in the wet room, on my feet. Not on the floor, and I could not feel the injuries to the arm, wrist or neck at all at first. The room seemed its usual mess, but nothing apparent that could indicate my having had a tumble. Weird!
As I turned around, the shower curtain caught my left arm. I felt that, and then I could sense the bruised neck and the eye. Then, the Cartilage Carole started stinging; all these pains came on late, one at a time, a sort of delayed reaction.

How and why did I go into the wet room? 
I returned to the computer and shut it down without saving my work.

A mixture of despair, frustration, and self-loathing enfolded me. But I was still not feeling right, but not like I usually would be after a seizure or tumble.
When Carer ‘Joe’ came in, I was in my usual plodding-along mode. We spoke of the incident for a while, along with sly looks and smiles.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Have a great day, each!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Sunday 27th April 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – PART 1,102¼ – – – –
As my past mistakes are unretrievable,
Bad memory; some things unrepeatable,
My love of Odeing is restrainable,
Even if they do turn out unreadable…
My ailments: all are irremovable,
Humankind’s future: unimaginable,
Might it include something ufological?
Or unecological, unethical, likely political,
HMG’s gone abnormal, celestial, paranormal,
Living costs rising, workers panhandle,
Wars raging, oligarchs, behooveful,
Our PM, a greedy parasitic, barnacle,
Ministers are only self-beneficential.
Labour used to be social, democratical, 
Now they are Tories and demagogical!
Degenerate, corrupt, decadent, & cruel,
Their guilty deeds, open to construal,
Their faults are blatant, not circumstantial,
Keir is a blatant liar and criminal,
Misleading, deceptive, and casuistical,
Starmer is bifacial, if not trifacial…
His answers are quodlibetical…
His plans and actions are often quixotical,
His excuses for his lies are tarradiddle,
His plans either turn out theoretical,

Not that his MPs want to quarrel,
Quizzing Herr Starmer? Unthinkable!
He claims each morning, he eats eggs and quail…
Personally, I think he should go on trial,
It’s not that I want to moan or quibble,
But, for his actions & lies, he should be in jail,
With his history, he’d be good, juristical,
I suppose I’m sounding a little judgemental?
I think he’s plainly, justifiably, jailable!
Seriously, I’m not joking or being facetious!
I’d send him a daffodil or Jonquil,
Awaiting the return of The Jackal!
Obviously, politicians must be intrapreneurial,
Muslim, Christian, Jew or infidel,
Locking the git up would not be ideal,
No one else can lead the party, I feel,
Well, whoever, like him, would be funeral,
Parliament would turn phantasmagorical,
No change there, it’s always been farcical,
With the backhand takers, all fissilingual,
With their deceit, drivel and folderol!
I’d miss Herr Starmer’s verbal flummadiddle,
I don’t want to overdo it, make it dramatical,
Or make this Ode complicated or daedal,
I hope you find humour in this doggerel,
If not, blame my being demential…
That should keep me out of trouble!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
THE DAY OF THE SEIZURES
Sorry, but this Sunday was a frigging-frustrating, seizure-ridden day, with nothing getting done. Well, nothing getting finished, anyway.
On the plus side, she hasn’t been so kind to me for weeks. She didn’t kick off the first attack until 15:15 hours. Great!
But Sadra’s more than covered for her.    These are the ones where I can do nothing for a few minutes after I get back to reality. A Carer came when I was out of it and told me I was open-eyed and muttering things incoherently. She was really worried. Luckily, I was soon back to my semi-senses and explained to her about what it was. It was her first visit as well.
Ejaz did the first call. And I remembered that on Friday, no one had changed my catheter bag. Ejaz, not having his bike, was on the bus, and on a Sunday, they are a rare sight. He did not have time to do the catheter today. He told me to ask the next Carer to do it. Ajaz issued the medications. Got the diabetic socks fitted, then checked the taps, fridge, freezer and cooker were not left open or on.   

Then, new to me, Carer Yasmin arrived, unsure of what needed to be done. I showed her the cooker, freezer, taps and taps that need checking every call. She also did not have time to change the catheter day pouch paraphernalia. She gave me two paracetamols and a gulp of Peptac that I had asked for. She also said to ask the next Carer to sort out the catheter contraption. I’ve already requested two without any luck. Third time lucky, I hope. I’ve not been in so much pain with the tubing for many weeks, possibly months. Still, I’m hoping the Carer due in approximately three hours might be able to do it.
Few photos today, dozens and dozens of mini-seizures. Although they seem to be getting less often as I type this – Huh! I shouldn’t have said that!

I may have to ask the next caller to also put the ankle strap on, as it is playing up for the first time in many months. And they will not like that. The instructions are tiny, and the procedure, if I recall correctly, is so complicated and confusing. Still, the flaring might go down before they arrive. If they are short of time as well, it’s best to get the catheter done. That is more painful for me at the moment. Saturday and Sunday, I forgot to ask them. Tsk! No, I didn’t; I did ask Ejaz, but he didn’t have time either on Saturday. Limited bus service again. When others arrived, I was in a seizure, Ann Gyna was bothering me, or I just forgot. Now it’s beginning to hurt; I can remember to better. When it came to it, it didn’t matter. I had lost the ankle straps again. Huh!

A few snaps were taken between seizures.

First kitchen shot.
Love them clouds!

Spring beginning to green the flora!

The gravel path up Woodthorpe Park.

A later shot from the balcony of the end car park.
We’ve not had much rain lately.
This is the first photo I’ve taken for at least six months without a mudslide showing on it!

What happened to April Showers?

The sun coming down.

Washed some socks

Welcoming home his servant Doug.
I swear we can read Andy’s thoughts through his expressions. He’s ‘getting on’ a bit now, not that he shows it, Bless him. Coping well with his medical treatments, as is servant Doug. Both heroes!

I’m feeling extra tired, earlier than usual today.
An early nosh was sorted out cause I want to watch highlights of the Forest v Man City game on the TV.

Bacon in cheesy-topped bread rolls is a simple meal to cook, but you wouldn’t think the time it took to cook the bacon was far less than what it took me to try to clean the oven dish. In fact, I gave up and threw the tray away in the end! 
Oh, I nearly forgot to add the pictures...
I dipped them in a BBQ sauce dip.

Carer ‘Joe’ did the last call. I remembered the day the catheter bag was supposed to be changed, according to Friday’s weekly schedule. After three ‘haven’t got the time to do it, ask the following Carer responses. 
Carer ‘Joe’ had not done one before, but between us, a good job was made of the task.

I’ve no desire to mention the Man City v Forest result. But it did reflect the difference and was a fair result.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – TTFNski – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

 

Inchy Today: Saturday 26th April 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A NEW AILMENT
I was sitting there, having a drink of Zinfandel,
I was depressed but not feeling suicidal,
Admittedly, I was finding life barely wadeable,
But why was I now thinking so depressional?
I need to cheer up but lack the wherewithal,
I’d gone from singing to feeling vincible…
I didn’t feel a part of anything tellural, 
Then I’d turn all phlegmatic and stoical.
What had changed? Guilt, now I feel sacral,

Suddenly tired, so tired, feeling sardonical,
Accepting that life is but ephemeral…
High Horis visiting is so enjoyable…

Depression Duncan returns, he’s unshakeable,

But why? It’s all unanalysable,
Keeping calm may be advisable,
Arguing with myself again, I must be tactful,
PN hinders thought and movement transferral,
Doreen Dementia is also not terminatable,
High Horis returns! Seemingly therapeutical,
Mini-seizures; sometimes things get threnetical,
Ailments can prevent stuff from being doable…
Problems mental and physical,
What I’m going to say may sound unbelievable…
In a High Horis, life seems incredible…
The sensation I had was execrable…
I floated out of my body, extrinsical…
I looked at myself, existential…
A chance, of course, this could be dubitable
Which gave me a theme for this doggerel,
Are these events possible or circumstantial?
With my mental ailments, possibly corporeal?
Another seizure then found a new carbuncle,
In a rear
 area just below my belt buckle!
As bad as things are, I still had to chuckle!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

03:10hrs: I bounded out of bed, somersaulted over the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner, landing safely by genuflecting my knees at the perfect time. Yodelled, and…
Oh, well, alright then…
03:10hrs: I struggled to remove the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag. Then, I struggled even more to get my legs off the bed, knocking my walking stick over (I’ll get it in the neck for making noise this early from Marie, who lives below, next time I see her!), as both Cartilages and Arthur Itis didn’t seem to appreciate my sleeping in the hospital bed and were giving me some gip. I sang out as I stubbed my toe on the Ottoman… Twice!

I took this snap while checking the taps, fridge, and freezer in the kitchen to ensure I hadn’t left anything out of order. No doors are left open, windows are closed, and cookers are turned off.

This session took well over two hours. There were a couple of things that went well. I can’t recall them at this moment cause so many went wrong!
The first thing I tackled was pouring jugs of hot water, washing-up liquid, and Dettol into the grey bowl that my plates of meat fit into. To soak/wash them while doing my teeth and shaving. Which I did, and cleaned my painful, going rapidly-rotten teeth. My mistake was forgetting about the bowl with my feet in it and reaching for the Toothache Spray. I tipped the bowl, and water spread all over the floor! Still, I had clean feet. I also cleaned up the floor. It’s not easy with a mop, bucket and walking stick in tow. I also had a third stubbing of the toes. What can I say? Maybe Arrgh?
Finally, I got back to do the shaving. Three tiny cuts underneath the chin, neck and nose. How I cut myself on my nose will remain a mystery. Nobody knows! I stopped the bleeding with the Brut aftershave. It stings a little but does the job.

Porc failedI had to use them before starting the medicationings.
Constipation Conrad ruled absolute this morning. It was pure agony.
I tried to expedite the process, but the evacuation was very slow going. My head was going dizzy with the pain and effort needed to encourage some movement. Eventually, the motion began, but it got stuck part-way!
Oh, what a painful morning!
I felt like I’d been on the toilet for an hour or more.
Suddenly, but oh, so slowly, the torpedo, it felt more like a submarine, quarter-inched its way out.
It plonked into the bowl with a thud.
There was a fair bit of blood!
From , well, there would.

Med HydrI then washed, antiseptically cleaned, and applied cream to the affected area. Doing it over again with some Germoloid Ointment.
More precious time was lost. However, the washing and medications did nothing to ease my situation. It was almost  Lovely!
Then, I made a brave decision. (Yes!) Little Inchies Fungal Lesion would be done next! Get more pain out of the way. I usually leave it until last, as it is the most painful one to do.
Ugleklump! Cragnackles! That hurt!

I did both eye sprays. Then, after cleaning the ears, I inserted the olive oil into each channel. A nasal spray was squirted up both sides. Then, another challenging task was undertaken. Needed the Barrier cream to be put on the right ankle. The left ankle was not leaking. A simple enough job – but reaching down to apply it was the problem. It was entirely overcome by my cunning use of paper towels dabbed, and the small plastic Picker-Upper was used to apply it. It wasn’t exactly pain-free, but it was bearable.

Oh, I am good! Hehe!

I’ve been using this graphic of the small picker-upperer on and off for years. I’ve only just noticed that I had spelt ‘picker’ wrongly. Tsk!

7:00hrs: I got two potatoes out, ready to go into the slow cooker later on. Of course, I forgot all about them; they had shrivelled a bit, and I threw them away, opting for frozen mini-roast spuds instead. I spotted the tubers on the counter around 21:00hrs.

Carer Ejaz made the first call of the day. Diabetic socks and medications were sorted out.

Daytime photos taken.

The clouds grew thicker.

It got hazier.

Then, it cleared a little.

Brightened up a smidgeon.

Struggled with updating the Friday post.
Well into teatime before I’d got it done.
Today, the above Ode cost me a few hours. Chiefly due to repeated mini-seizures and my mind wandering, I found myself scripting while I was out of it. So many corrections to be made. I may have missed some as the fog dawned in my head.

I got carried away searching for an old photo of myself to use on a future blog. More hours lost.
I spent too long thinking of and getting the photos cleaned up a smidgen; here they are.
c1951.
Then I took one taken earlier this year.
2025.
This sent me off on an unpleasant tangent.
Guilt and shame showered over me for my past actions. However, it clarified the reason for my bad luck and the mental and physical pains I now experience. Truth is, I deserve them. This afternoon, I found myself unself-pitiable.
A kind of freedom lingered, of acceptability.
I hope I can experience this feeling of peace again.

Carer Mizra did the second call. Confusion over medications. Mizra’s second time of calling. She put the socks on and creamed the right ankles for me.

I think I made a Sainsbury or Ocado order later on. I’ll need to verify this tonight.

Carer Rozma did the last two calls. I was having mini-seizures on both calls. It’s only through the scribbled notes on the pad that I remembered he’d called.

Approximately 21:00hrs.
What a change in the view!

My belated meal
Very nice, too!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Up The NHS – Bless!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy Today: Thursday 24th April 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Here’s what the future holds, I’ve gleaned,

Putin & Trump, agreements are formed,

Their wars were turbocharged,

Trump: Mexico was savaged,

Putin: Lithuania was occupied,

Trump wanted Canada but was denied,

Putin: finished Ukraine, on to Poland,

Trump: attack and took Iceland…

Putin: The Idle of man was scavenged,

Trump proved he was  unhinged,

Jamaica was attacked

Is this how it all ends? Can you imagine?

World Rulers, Trump and Putin?

The only opposition is China?

What of the UK, Australia…

France, Spain, Africa, India?

What of bean-counter, Starmer?

I’ve been advised by an astrologer-auger,

That this is not on our future agenda,

Who can avoid this abomination?

Save the world and each free nation?

You’d know if you were a Christian!

It would be lovely to be awestricken!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A mixed day mentally. It was rife throughout. Today was a day of hard work that left me baffled. Sparse blog, sorry. Up at 04:50hrs. 

Hoovering.

Potatoes are ready to make cheesy spuds later.

First brew of Glengettie.

Kitchenette view.

Carer Ejaz arrived. Medications. Diabetic socks.

Window cleaner called. The price is going up by 20%. Spit! The first bit of bad news, plenty to follow.

Ocado delivery.
Cheesy cobs.
Fridge

Just as I was bending and stretching to reach the bowl, I’d just dropped on the kitchen floor. Whoopsiedangleplop! Balance-Loss-Bertha and Dizzy Dennis gave me a double assault.
Down I went, hitting my chin and head en route to the floor and landing on the pile of bottles I’d knocked over. My language was a bit crude!
Hitting the chin, set off Toothache Tiffany.
Then came the harrowing part. The trip on all fours to get to the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner; to haul me back up onto my feet. The short journey must have taken me a good few minutes to get there. I had to keep stopping to move the catheter pouch into a less painful position. I was knackered when I got there, then faced the challenge of hauling my elephantine-bellied body up on the recliner. Only to find that 

it was bleeding from the tube tugging and adjusting en route.
More time was lost, having to clean and medicate Little Inchies’ fungal lesion and the scrape and bruise on the chin. That stung a tad! 

I moved back onto the computer. Concentration was terrible, mistakes rife, and I wasn’t feeling too good physically now, either. My work rate disintegrated, my mind wandered off of its own accord, and I had a prolonged, weird, cracking seizure when I recall most things. I knew I was doing wrong, but I just thought this was a dream and carried on blooping! That is unless I was really dreaming. The oddest one yet.

Coming out and back to semi-reality, the young lady Carer arrived. I was draining the urine from the day bag to the dedicated jug. I believe I had another mini, a few-second-long seizure at the same time. Peptac was taken given.

I started on the blogs. Only to realise that I felt the warm, wet sensation in my left sock, feet and slipper!
Yes, I’d failed to turn off the release valve on the catheter yet again! I think a combination of the Seizure, the effects from the tumble, and being distracted when the Carer was asking my questions may have caused this accident.
It’s been the same for some time now. As I was warned at the Dementia meeting, it will get worse, and it has… my concentration evaporates when I try to do two things at the same time nowadays.
I know I’ve left the taps running when the door chime rings or I get a telephone call from someone. I forgot what I was doing when interrupted.
I had to take off my socks, which was even more painful than the first Accifauxpa with the tumble, all-fours-crawl, and fungal lesion medicating!
Then, I had to wash my feet – another challenge, as if the agony of getting my socks off was not enough! I fetched a bowl from the wet room and half-filled it, a jug at a time, with water from the sink to fill the bowl halfway. Washing up liquid and Dettol added. I brought a towel with me. I’m not sure how I’m going to dry my feet with it yet. I managed it, but it was another painful struggle. Fed up? Me? Yes! 

I sat my feet in the bowl for about twenty minutes, placed a food order for the next week, and returned to the blog. The water was well cold now. I had hoped a Carer might call early to offer some help, but no luck. I decided to wait for the Carer before risking carrying the split plastic bowl to empty and store in the wet room. Then, I decided to wash the urine-soaked socks I had left earlier, soaking in Dettol and laundry liquid in the kitchen sink. Rinsed them and hung them to dry.
Funny how one can get a picture to come into one’s mind instantly, word association, maybe? As I typed ‘hung’, I thought of Starmer! Ha-ha!

I got an email from the Bulwell-based Diabetes training folks.

Sunset shot.

I’d bought some Albert Bartlett potatoes.
£2.50 for 2kilograms. Well, the ones I had last year for baking cheesy potatoes were wonderful!
But not so much this time!
I knew I’d have difficulty with them when I saw the amount of black mould in them.
This is how they came out of the cooker, ready to have the husks emptied into a bowl and mixed with some no-butter butter.
Leicester cheese, sea salt, black pepper and Worcestershire sauce. 
However, it took me an hour to cook them in the oven and almost another hour to locate and remove the spots of black Rhizoctonia Solani, which I had investigated. It is a fungal disease that causes stem canker, damping off, black scurf, skin netting, and tuber growth distortions. And getting them back in what was left of the husks… well, I think I deserved a medal. The mixture was replaced in the skins and returned to the oven for twenty minutes until the tops were nicely browned and crisp. However, they did taste so good! But it took so long to sort them out that I was falling asleep eating them. 
With some pickled beetroots and Nordic bacon!

Naturally, after washing the load of pots, cutlery, basins, and plates, I settled down around midnight to watch the original Death Wish movie on TV.
But couldn’t, as it didn’t have any subtitles. I did not want to wake up the chap above by having the sound load enough for me to hear it. Those two or three floors above and below me would have all been disturbed. I’d have had a lynch party waiting for me in the morning. Haha!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Passe une bonne journée
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy Today: Wednesday 23rd April 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
GOOD RESULTS
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Failures, mistakes? I’ve become an epigone,
It made me downcast, glum, & woebegone,
Life today, I just can’t underfong,
Hopefully, I’ll not suffer for too long,
I’ll soon see St. Peter, and be logging on…
Depression is a vile botheration…
My mind in constant circumbilivagination,
Brain & body with little corroboration,
Worries, fears, defeats, no cachinnation,
My mental visitors seem all cacodaemon,
The Grim Reaper’s awaited clarion…
I’ve given so much contemplation,
No solutions, just failed bodge, after bodge!
Will I be an Angel, or Beelzebubian?
Will I find safety, a hide, or a bastion?
Will Hell hold or hide bacchanalian?
Hell, is it the source of depressionism?
The Devils home, desolation, damnation?
Will retain my delusion & disequilibrium?
Or judge my sacrilege, profanation?
Or take heed of my moral declension?
Are my thoughts all a misconception?
Are Heaven & Hell; both a delusion?
Yesterday’s confusion I’d like to mention,
The failures, fears, all in deliration!
Will either be divine, celestial, or elysian?
Or are both, just an illusion?
Is there no other option?
Humankind, developed by an alien?
Monitored, our every move digested…
To what we are affiliated, afflicted,
Angered, get-bladdered, how have we altered,
Sins, naughties that we have adopted,
As to why? I’m just bewildered,
We’re castigated, castrated, get cataracted,
We murder, kill, give & get castigated,
Is this message getting communicated?
Explaining one thoughts is complicated…
We’ve been constipated, not consolidated,
We’re disordered, we’ve dithered, doddered…
Defaulted, defected, deflected, & dejected,
Murdered, bribed, MPs get backhanded,
Alliances get disbanded,
Morals do not get expedited,
Freed murderers are paroled,
Honest citizens get exasperated,
Oligarchs laugh at food price rises,
These wrongs are never explicated,
Minds & computers should be expurgated!
Crimes excused, falsified, almost justified,
I’ve lost the plot; must get this ode finished,
Heaven or Hell, they can’t be selected,
Which makes many people frampold & fantad,
We’ve all be criticised, castigated, hated,
Our aggravations have snowballed,
Getting more vicious, but never alleviated,
If lies, deceit were air, we’d all be asphyxiated,
Is death, a feature of life, or a forfeiture?
It could of course be a forewarner…
Life’s gone, but what’s around the corner?
Heaven or Hell, which one would be better,
Naturally I don’t know the answer,
Well, speaking as a grammaticaster…
And obviously an experienced galumpher,
This is just a hypothesis or conjecture…
Bearing in mind I’ve got cachexia,
Which is better to have than copropraxia,
Reserved for those with a particular disorder?
Maybe those of us with ecdemomania?
Maybe I’ll fit into that category?
I could beg St. Peter for an amnesty,
He may consider my plea, ambiguously,
Though he may answer me astringently,
Heaven or Hell? – Hopefully, Heaven for me!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Sorry but today has been a nightmare.
Carer Joe, replaced with Carer Ejaz.
Who had not done the three hour shift before.
Other things prevented my working on the blog for long. This is really the best I could do.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:30hrs: Up and wobbling about.
Kitchen safety checks, took this rainy kitchen view

Then I went to have a long session.
The full works. Hard work due to both cartilages and several mini-seizures during the two hour session.

Carer Ejaz visit. It appears we have only one of the beta blockers left in stock. Ejaz made notes on his mobile. Said he’d sort things out.

Computer, doing the long ode for today.

Raining a bit now, no sunshine out yet. (midday)

Rain started, rain stopped!

Well, I made a right mess of this evenings meal!
Failures: I undercooked the potato cakes. Never have I bought fattier, greasier Golonkowa. The carden peas were taty, though. Unfortunately, I found some mould on the wheatmeal rolls!
A sad end, to a tragic day!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Not a good day by a mile. I’ll try to smile!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –