Morning Thoughts
I lay there, passing wind in the dawnlight,
And fell out of the chair, t’was a terrible sight,
Bruised and bloodied, getting back up was a fight,
Reached for wind-up torchlight,
Cathy Cartilage was stinging a mite,
The patella painful and tight,
I struggled up on my feet, alright.
Bet I’ll still be in pain, tonight,
My face and skin looked ghostly white,
Go on WordPress, well I might!
Make some Chilli-Con-Carnie? Today’s highlight?
I must be careful of the Kryptonite,
Not get excited, too keen or uptight,
Ah, the eye haemorrhaging, is a blight,
I’ll soak the knee in the bowl, it’s bakelite,
I’ve got food arriving, this Thursday night,
Glengettie tea, onions, and Marmite,
Morrison’s might substitute things with dynamite,
Protection Pants, olive oil, well, they might?
This ode, I know is crap, and I feel contrite,
I’ll get summat to eat… Ah, I’ll have deviled eggs and Vegemite?
Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit
I started my wondering, my holiday,
The windows let in the ice-like rain,
My most used and popular room of them all,
Then there’s the Sock-Glide in there,
I had planned to visit the ground floor, 
00:25hrs: I came back to semi-consiousness, the first thought was of the Iceland delivery that is due, and will they send any bread this time? 
As I glanced at the notepad, I did my best to read what I had written down lat night. But it was a forlorn hope, although I do seem to recall having a cracking headache as I got my head down?
d body out of the second-hand, c1968 recliner, up onto my feet. This morning it was a relatively easy task. But the pains from Harold’s Haemorrhoids were as bad as they have been for many months. Caught my balance easily enough, and I wobbled over to the overnight-wee-wee-bucket.
Another record broke here, I reckon. I passed more in this one visit than ever before! It took me so long, I thought I’d never stop! I was baffled at how so much liquid could have come from the stomach. (Then again, confusedness does come to me so easily) 
I went to get a bottle of the made-up spring-water and cordial, for there was a thirst-and-a-half on me this morning. I took this photo from the light & view-blocking window of the morning view. The wind was howling, yet I could still hear the ‘Hum’ as well? As I closed the window, the rain started to come down. 
I fetched the bottle and started the computer. I got the photos uploaded into CorelDraw, and titivated them top look a bit better than they did, which was not good.
By the time I’d got the photos done, and in the WordPress gallery, the two-litre bottle of spring water had all been drunk! I washed my hands and went to make up and refill the bottle. I also spotted that the airlessness thingy, supplied by Nottingham City Homes, showed a temperature and humidity as both being in the green, only just, but this 
was far better than yesterday.
I pressed on with the WordPressing and got the Tuesday diary updated. Nicodemus and SSS were both being so kind to me… But of all ailments, Colin Cramps was giving me bother in the 
left-hand fingers. Usually (and regularly) he does this at night after I settle done in the c1968 recliner. But now he was having a ball with me, Gawd blimey, he was! I got the Phorpain gel, I and had a good rubbing in session. Of course, it doesn’t help ease the pain, but the doctors say the rubbing in helps? I realised I had not taken the morning medications yet, so I did along
The Boot’s made in China Sphygmomanometer, gave a much better reading this time. SYS down to 156. DIA to 81, and the Pulse at 82. 
The Chinese made Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer reading was a little higher, at 37.3°c, but it was still with a been background colour, so it must be within range methinks.
at the computer?
As I got on with the updating, I also noticed that warm, wet sensation from the rear end! Damnations, the haemorrhoids were bleeding! Off to the wet room, and cleaned and medicated Harold’s area. Got new PPs on (this is costing me a fortune!) Washed up and returned to the computerisationing.
Then went on the WP comments. Next, the WordPress Reader section. 
I got dressed properly, I and made another tasty brew of Glengettie tea. 
Granglesknackersbuggerit!
Of course, this didn’t make me boiling mad at myself, start name-calling and insulting me, oh, no! self-hatred and loathing didn’t come into my mind at all. Depressed? Me? No!… This lying lark is not good! I was self-conscious about my repeated failures, memory blanks, inability to comprehend, and knowledge that things are not going to get better! I could have flooded the poor soul/s in the flat below! Just pure chance that the overflow coped with it, and although belatedly, I found out in time to avert a disaster. I got an acidy taste in the mouth, self-hatred, most likely. 
I had a peep at the YourArea Emagazine, for updates to the Coronova locally and weather.
The weariness fell as I got the nosh prepared. This meal was so easy to prepare, nowt hot, so no worries over the oven not working. It’s a shame that Iceland failed to deliver the other three packs of cooked meat and the bread, else I’d be able to make more easy meals, especially as I enjoyed this one so much. The taste-rating of 8/10 given. 
Got to town, and nearly got ran over,
I made my way to the Poundsaver store,
I had a walk around the City Centre,
Then one of the Pavement cyclist’s flew by, 
The Exchange arcade, it was barren of folk,
The drizzle hadn’t come, so out I went,
To the Queen Street bus-stop,
I alighted the bus, well, fell off of it,
Not a soul in sight, for a talk, 
I tooketh a photo, getting into the lift,
Frazzled, I’m glad to say – Yes! Hehehe!
Having made his escape bid plans again. 
He waited patiently, for the next bus, but this proved something of a benefit for the old git. Not many folks about, but he still managed to corner one poor chap, and hastened to bore him to death verbally! 
And Inchcock, being instantly bored himself now, went into one his Sherlock Holmesian modes. Someone 
He caught the bus and got out his crossword puzzles, but the driver, obviously a stock-car racing fan, nearly had Inchy out if his seat a few times en route to Nottingham City centre. Trying to hold onto his three wheeler, took some effort. 
The old chap went itn the Pondland shop on Lower Parliament Street, and despite his painful and feet, enjoyed his hobble around the store, coming out with many items he didn’t need or want, Tsk!
He got to the checkout, and got himself in a right pickle and state of embarrassment at the self-serve checkout! The lady monitoring the tills, was greatly unimpressed with his continual dropping of things and farting about trying to retrieve them.
But did not offer to help, although she shared some sneerings, of hate, derision, scornfulness and causticness with him. He came out redfaced and £20 lighter. And took these three shots of the Milton Street junction.
Where he went into the Bargain Shop. A terrible experience! No one talking, empty shelves etc. But, he still spent over £21, mostly on Christmas treats for his family of friend in Woodthorpe Court.
He was struggling now, the three-wheeler trolley-bag full, and three carrier bags hanging on the handles, would make progress awkward for him. At least he remembered to but sone of the dar clothing cleaner. He set off on a limp towards the Slab Square.
, as he turned onto Upper Parliament Street, the old fart of a fool unthinkingly took the spectacles off to clean them. 
He crossed over the road, and down King Street. Near the bus stops, a chap dressed like the Beatles used to, with plaited hair hanging below his shoulders, stopped him and asked for ‘a couple of quid for a coffee’. As he eyed up the bags!
Inchy just said, ‘No!’ and carried in hobbling down the hill, turning to keep an aye on the youth as he did, to make sure he wasn’t following. Getting to the Slab Square, Inchy gor out his camera for a snapping away session.
He saw the little crowd and paparazzi outside the Council House steps, he went back into Sherlock Holmesian mode, and took a close up[ phot of whoever was on the steps. This person came by. Inchy got a decent shot of his/her head. 
Inch repositioned himelf a bit closer, and waited for the right moment to get a view of what was going on. Nice zoomed-in photo for once. Asssumed to be the Sheriffess or Mayoress of Nottingham? Again, not single Policeman in sight today.
The tatterdemalion, dour, malagrugrous, weary, tellurian, dangerous populace of Nottingham, were showing a bit of itnerest, at least. Not many of them had face-masks on, but it isn’t law yet to wear them outsdoors yet, methinks.
The lad poddled his way wit hdifficulty up Queen Street to get to his bus stop, and caught a number 40 back home, to his never-restfull, beloved, always something to worry about, four years being upgraded and not finished yet, Winwood Heights. 
He was the only passenger when the bus moved off from the terminus. P
The first passenger to get on the bus, was Face-Maskless. 
As the chin-mask wearing man got up tp get off, he gave Inchy a cautionary scowl, that was a bit threatening. 
This is St. Anns Valley Centre, 2 Livingstone Road, Nottingham NG3 3GG. 
The record, as Inchy explains:
He arrived back at his Woodthorpe Court, along with the mysterious wonders of, the Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations and Kehuas. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus out of, and the pants off of the old energumenist, Inchcock’.
He bought three things, none of them needed,
He hobbled along Milton Street then,
Sadly, he made his way to the end,
A photo of Pelham Street he did take,
Then one a shot backwards up Clinton he did make,
Long Row, too, where he took some more,
Off towards his bus stop in the Slab Square,
The rain came down, he took shelter from it, 
En route, Slab Square was photographed, 
He sheltered from the sudden rain, 
He got in his flat, 
