A Little Chunter from Inchcock. In bad, nae, terrible rhyme!

1Mon05.jpg

A Little Chunter from Inchcock

In bad, nae, terrible rhyme!

It’s the day of the criminal, there is no more law,

Empathy, understanding have become just folklore,

I don’t see Police officers in Nottingham, anymore,

 Pavement Cyclists, beggars and shoplifters galore,

Street sleepers, who survive with skills of a detrivore,

Druggies, alcoholics, muggers, both old and mature,

While families dine, smoke cigars and drink their liquor,

All the time, making the poor, feel even sicker!

Disabled with Fit for Work Assessments, have to fight and bicker,

A blind chap got told he can work on a cherry-picker!

Jobseekers told to do psychometric tests, Glory Be!

But if you’re lucky, you’ll live to retire just like me,

But it isn’t what you thought, no rest and freedom, see,

Heart attack, Duodenal Ulcer, and I live on the twelfth-floor,

Peripheral Neuralgia, then a stroke and Arthritis, core!

What next I thought, and the lock broke on the door,

It was mended within three weeks, no need to be sore,

My hot water system went down, so I called help once more,

After nine days of being lied to, ‘We are coming today for sure,

Staying in and awake eight-until-ten, no chance of a bedsore!

But they mended it! It leaked, my clothes wet, the water did pour!

I slipped on the liquid, ending up injured on the floor,

Luckily, the stroke nurse called, so help came to the fore,

Depression and self-hating I began to explore,

I complained at the lack of help, this just caused a furore!

Now the haemorrhoids have returned, bloody and sore!

 

I fank You!

‘Bonkersness’ An everyday pleasure for old folk!’

2019 April 17

It’s a shock, when you wake up, not feeling unwell,
Take your medications, and rub in the Pain-Gel,
The heart monitor might well need a new Duracell,
You wonder around without clothes on, au naturel,
But you don’t realise, till someone does tell.

You and youngsters are on a different parallel,
You worry about your leaks, do they really smell?
Will someone be waiting for you, down in hell?
Sticks to your dentures do marzipan and caramel!

You’ve a shoebox flat to live in now and dwell.
But you call it an apartment, so your pride can swell!
Retentativeness goes away, you’ll forget how to spell,
Your short term memory will never again excel!
Steps, climbing, will make you fear any stairwell.

Doctors, dentist, you’ll be part of their clientele,
Podiatrists, Opticians, analyst, maybe the as well?
Audiologist too, you’ll not hear your phone or doorbell,
Psychoanalyst, avoid talking about your death-knell,
Well, they have a profit to protect, and service to sell.

We’ll lose our logicality, patience and sense of smell,
And when the time comes for to heaven to travel,
Here’s the really-surprising bombshell,
We can’t take clothes with us, even if they’re brocatelle,
No knick-knacks of gold, silver or tortoiseshell,
But I ain’t got none, anyway – so farewell!
I wonder if I’ll see Dad, Mam, or maybe a pterodactyl?

 

2019 Aug 01

Inchcock Today – Friday 5th July 2019: A nerve-wracking Fraught Friday!

2019 July 5

2019 July 05

Friday 5th July 2019

Croatian: Petak, 5 Srpnja 2019

12:08hrs: I woke, well I didn’t really, I just gave up trying to get to sleep. I had to get up anyway, for a wee-wee (Hard to believe, I know. Hehe!) Dean Martin’s version of ‘Just one more chance, was firmly embedded in my head, and I was singing or humming to myself for hours and hours. Here’s a link for anyone who doesn’t know it, a smooth ballad and catchy tune. Just one more chance

My sort of music. Enough of my noctuary, back to the lactarium.

WD 0.51.0 I rose from the £300, second-hand, c1968, clapped out recliner, got the stick and made for the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-wee Bucket), where I had to endure another of the ELDOUWW’s (Extra-Long-Drawn-Out-Unremitting-Wee-Wee’s). After what seemed a ridiculously long time, the flow finally ebbed, and the bucket was in need of emptying and sanitisationing. So, a limp to the kitchen, which revealed that after such a long time, Arthur Itis was in full-damage mode, pain wise, in the knees. Boy, he was in a bad mood!

5Fri001WD 0.51.0 I got the bucket cleaned and returned to near the computer, and had to use it again. This time, for a surprising VSHLP (Very Short-Hosepipe-Like-Painful) wee-wee. After the first one, this caught me out a bit.

I got the kettle on and did the health checks. With good results, today: Sys 136, Dia 66, Pulse 85, and Temperature at 35.1°c (93.2°f), is that a little high? No, I don’t think so.

Made a brew, and got the computer on. Checked the Google Calendar, to make sure I’d added the date for the Air Filter appointment for it to be serviced. I had. (Oh, yes! Haha!) Smug-Mode-Adopted.

WD 0.51.0 The first task was to get a top-graphic, and a Thought was done for the next post. This was when the fingers and hand started to dance-away to its heart’s content! Grumph, and bother! It came and went for several hours, for varying periods of time. During which my patience was tested to the full. As I was finishing off the Thought graphic, I had to go for a Porcelain Throne session. But, it was not to be. Everything seemed solid and immovable again. I washed, made a brew, and took another Senna tablet.

Then the big push, despite the jumping-fingers and the lousy language used, I pressed on and got the updating done. Finished and got it posted off.  But not, until gone 05:00hrs! Huh!

WD 0.51.0 I made a start on this blog but had the call to the Throne again. Full of hope for a successful evacuation this time, I grabbed the stick and was off to the wet room. What a change, still painful and a fair bit of bleeding, but far less resistance. This confused me a little. After some thought on the problem, I realised I had taken the last Senna, from a new pack that I had emptied earlier.

5Fri002So, maybe the old packet was a little out of date, and that was why I had been struggling to free things lately?

I took a snap of the plates-of-meat. The water retention has gone down well, the feet look healthier, and the leg-ulcer seems to be fading away again. New marks on top of the right foot. But it appears different each day lately.

I continued (Wee-wee interrupted frequently) with this blog for an hour or two, and went to make a mug of tea. The view of outside’s sky, made me get the camera, and go onto the balcony, at high risk of losing a chunk of finger when opening the metal spring opener that has to be pushed to bend the metal, and pulled towards you, to open the window, at the same time!

But, my bravery was rewarded with some half-decent shots of the cloud formations. I still can’t work out how to do Panorama shots on this camera, it will just not do them! So I took pictures across the sky. They were naturally beautiful, I thought.

 

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5Fri08I got the peas podded and in the pan to marinate with some demerara sugar.

I’d better get the ablutions done, try to see Josie for when she wants her meal this weekend, and get out for a walk with the trolley. I must not stay in for too long, it makes one get idle.

Ah well, off to the wetroom. Mustn’t rush with the shaving, cutting of the skin and toe-5Fri08astubbing skills I have acquired! Hehe! All sorted.

WD 0.51.0 I noticed that the legs and knees were suddenly starting to return to their normal warped, fluid-filled, papsule covered status! However, the feet were looking and feeling much better, and the leg ulcer is hardly noticeable now? Every day something changes, sometimes more than once!

5Fri08bI made up some black bags and one for recycling and was going out the door with the trolley, and Josie came out, she kindly took the bags for me. Bless her cotton socks! But was in a rush to meet with her family, and I couldn’t find out which day and at what time she fancied the cheesy potato meal in the morning. Tsk!

5Fri09I stopped underneath the bottom trees on the footpath hill, that goes up into Woodthorpe Grange Park for a while. It was shaded and fresh, and I took a minute or two to take in the smells. Realising that this is now my tree copse, for I can never get into the trees again, but this little patch is a good substitute that I can walk 5Fri10into for a few moments and appreciate wildlife and the beauty of the wildflowers.

WD 0.51.0 As I started to continue up the hill, Dizzy Dennis came over me, and I considered going back to the flat. An uncomfortable sensation and the vagueness of mind increased a lot. So, I took it very slowly 5Fri11and carefully and carried on up into the park, determined to get some more photographicalisationing done.

I stopped under the pathway trees and took a shot of the fallen warped tree branches. A certain sadness always comes over me when I see this area as I pass by.

5Fri12As I neared the gates out onto Mansfield Road, my newly-found fixation and nephelognosy with the clouds made me take a picture of the sky, showing the fantastic patch of clouds in which I saw a figure that reminded me of something.

But I can’t find it now! Humph! Hehe!

5Fri13As I plodded up and over the hill into Sherwood, I spotted this agricultural machine doing a fair rate of knots and bouncing about.

I think the chap driving it, posed for me as I took this picture of him. Haha!

5Fri014Dizzy Dennis returned and was determined to ruin my day. I have to admit it, he won!

I decided to just walk down Mansfield Road and take some photographs, and catch the L9 bus back up to the flats. I felt a little fragile, and the mind started wandering.

WD 0.51.0 Down the hill, and took some photos. With a few Nottinghamian Off-Road Cyclist included.

 

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5Fri018At the bus shelter, the amazing nubilous sky again caught my nephelococcygia’s attention. And once again, afterwards, when I viewed this picture, I could not see what it was that I had read or seen in the sky. I don’t know why I bother!

The bus arrived, and the short, jerky, almost violent side-saddled seat on the bus journey, was survived. Hehe!

WD 0.51.0 I was still not feeling up to scratch, as I walked along Chestnut Way back to Woodthorpe Court. Dizzy Dennis lingered, giving me a few afflictive moments en route.

5Fri019a

The appalling mess they had made of laying the lawn, irked me a bit. But, Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit (No Man is at all hours wise!) came to mind. And I thought of some of the things that I have done over the years! (I flinched and even eschewed at some of them, in embarrassment!)

But things cheered up when Christine caught up with me on the road, and we had a very welcome side-tracking chinwag moaning session and laughs! Bless her ♥. We went up in the elevator together, and I was so glad we did, she was in a gregarious mood, and in those few moments that we spoke and joked, she cheered me up no end!

WD 0.51.0 As I got into the flat, Damned Dizzy Dennis came at me again! I decided to get the nosh sorted first, as at least the dancing and shaking from the right-hand side limbs, was not so active!

As I got the meal on, I wen5Fri20t to put the three-wheeler away in the junk room and found a letter from Nottingham City Homes. Confirmation of Video Door-Entry Installation Date, for the flat. Next Friday.

The changed appointment day and time,  I confirmed on the Google Calendar.

5Fri20aThe meal was one of betterer ones, I think. Franks, chips (fries), garden peas, tomatoes and a mini-cheese and pickle pork pie. I had some caramelised onion pickle with it and milk bread and butter. A lemon mousse to follow.

WD 0.51.0 I had a bottle of spring water with some added orange cordial, and with the tray still nestled on my lap, I drifted off to sleep! Minutes later, I sprang back to life, and as expected, the tray fell off of my knee! Propitiously, I had eaten everything on the plate, apart from some bread. So there was minimal cleaning up to do!

WD 0.51.0 5Fri20cI got the evening medications taken and made a brew. While waiting for the kettle to boil, I popped out on the petrifyingly dangerous, light & view blocking, multi-window that can’t be reached to clean, and the finger chewing metal spring clip opener that needs to be pulled and pushed at the same time to open new balcony.

Once again, I could not resist snapping the clouds up in the sky.

5Fri20bThe magnificence of them did not escape my attention.

Nor did the metal-spring clip closer’s inability to let one close it quietly. I’m afraid it made one hell of a thud when I eventually got the window to close

19:00hrs, I woke with a start, some noise from above for a few seconds. Sounded like someone had dropped something on the floor. I hope it wasn’t himself! I pondered on going up to check on things. But then I heard some scraping and tapping noises, so I knew he was back working and was alright.

WD 0.51.0 I nodded off again, and was woken by I know not what? I had to have a look around, to satisfy myself that all was well. I opened the flat door to listen for any fire alarm, none in progress. I looked out of the window, the kitchen window, that required me to use the step ladder. I could have gone out on the balcony to have a look below, but the finger-mauling metal spring clip opener I deemed as more of a danger to me, that the using the step ladder was. As I was checking around, I had to visit the Porcelain Throne. I say visit, it was more like my moving into the wet room for the night! There I was, on the Throne, the evacuation half-way, and waiting painfully for something to move! I had a go at the crossword book, I’ve never known things to take so long!

WD 0.51.0 When finally the motion was completed, (Ah!) cleaning things, the blood and myself up, I took another Senna and pain killer and got back in the £300, second-hand, rickety, grotty-beige coloured, rusty, rickety, recliner. I fell asleep just as I was thinking that sleep may not come quickly. It did! But only for around four hours. But this was more than of late. Hey-Ho!

Why Inchcock’s Confidence is at an all-time low. An Ode, laugh and a truth”

1Mon06

Thoughts that Inchcock considers as vital information to pass-on to the younger generation, in a bid to help them decide when to top themselves.

Knowing what is coming to them in old age.

Here starteth the THOUGHTS of WOE

My confidence is at an all-time low,
Things I need, disappear, memories don’t flow,
What’s right, wrong or real, where to go,
Sometimes frustrated, I’ve a wee-wee overflow,
I can’t play an instrument, trumpet or piano!

I fall asleep anytime, anywhere, stunts my workflow,
A bag-of-nerves, no confidence, I’m going loco,
Will I ever regain my sanity? I just don’t know,
Losing my mobility capabilities is a severe blow!

Just some of the programmes I miss watching, though,
Red Dwarf, The A-Team, Heartbeat, Boon & Columbo,
All on Freeview now, but I can’t watch them though,
I can’t stay awake long enough to watch a TV show!

I eat foods from Idaho, Sesotho, Mexico, Morocco,
Montenegro, and Puerto Rico, as my stomach, does grow!
I can’t see my feet when stood up, you know!
Lost Faith in Muslim, Christianity, Gnosticism & Shinto!
In Tellurians, politicians, banks, and Boll-Weevils, too!

Getting up in a morning is a pitiful, painful fiasco,
As are bending, stretching and lifting things is also,
But the mental side, the brain burst into a crescendo,
But no ideas, aims, plans, designs or manifesto,
Always, I use the feeble excuse, “I’ll get it done tomorrow!”

In depression, moroseness I will often wallow,
Meekly go along with others, revealing no bravado,
The only solution is a brain transplant to undergo,
Then I can take lessons, in Judo and Aikido,
Become a Champion, a success, make lots of dough!

Go on TV with Richard Attenborough,
Defeat my enemies, crush my foe!
Become admired, a local hero!
Get a job in Santa’s Grotto!
Or should I just get blotto?

Just a few of the daily ailments below that you can expect.

I didn’t put the Kidney stones, blood poisoning or Mental Decay on the list for fear of making it sound a tad too bleak for the ankle-snappers!

1Mon07

Lament to the end of the Weevil War – or is it?

Lament in Ryme

To the End of the Weevil War – Or is it?

Willmott Dixon started to upgrade my minuscule flat,
New windows were installed, that started the waring combat,
EIBWBBBs (Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles) and a bat,
All came in and immigrated, hibernated, and that was that!
T’was eighteen months ago; and a long time is that,
They ate the food, and I was often bitten at!

Aug18p06b

It cost me hundreds of pounds,
Bug killers and traps did abound,
My coughing was the loudest sound,
But the poisoning of my lungs was allowed,
No help came, although I protested very loud,
I got the blame, NCH responsibility they disavowed!

4thur03a

I found the battle, very fascinating,
But no signs for months of their abating,
They found my apartment very accommodating,
And with the little Weevils, I started acquainting,
Although mixed in with some aberrating,
At least their bites had no sting!

4thur03a2

Spraying Rentokill three times a day became a realisation,
Their cunning skills at survival caught my appreciation,
The Rentokil put me more than them, into aestheticisation,
The numbers grew rapidly of their aggrupation,
If I was ever to win this war, this losing altercation,
I needed more help, stronger ammunition!

2017d

My health suffered from this losing situation,
My battle plans were in need of analysation,
I planned to use bleach, and soda as acidification,
But they just swam in it, I was losing with ambiguation.

aug18e

Of victory, I had no hopes nor anticipation, furthermore…
The effects of the spray left me with a cough and snore!
My further pleas for help, others did ignore,
Until another flat got the Weevils, they got help from me for sure!
Slowly the Weevil numbers faded, not so many anymore…
But occasionally, they’d return, these nasty, Weevil detrivore,
Last week, they came onto the keyboard while I used CorelDraw!
But yesterday was the first day when I saw them no more!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Oh, sod-it! I just went to make a mug of tea and spotted this. Tsk!

5fri001b
Oh, Woe is me!

Ageing can be a little Confusing – Inchcock’s Explanatory Ode

The pointlessness, confusion, mayhem, of morning thoughts, will no doubt affect the elderly. Even the alcoholic, chain-smoking, ones are at risk!

If perchance you can make any sense of these Inchcock Thursday morning ponderations wot he wrote this morning, then it is time for you to seek more help and support. Age Concern – PDSA or the snug in the Lions Arms?

Should you reach this stage, my personal advice would be to avoid thoughts of the National Health Service, Grenfell, the Government or Brexit!

4Thu01

1Mon01

Inchcock Today: Morning Thoughts: In a rhyme of sorts. Plus RIP to the Weevils. Hehe!

1Mon001

I wondered what each streetlight and house light might be hiding?

Each morning light out there,
Someone in despair?
Someone washing their hair?
Alcoholics here and there?
Old chap asleep in his recliner chair?
Up there, a plane in the air?
A shoplifter in their lair?
Perhaps a millionaire heir?
A vicar with a prayer?
Someone eating a fresh cream eclair?
Someone hearing burglars downstairs?
Old folks playing solitaire?
Even someone happy somewhere?
Someone, to admit voting for Tony Blair?
Someone with their Cocaine, necessaire?
A street-sleeper, future billionaire?
Someone battling nasty spyware?
Someone short on their bus fare?
A cross-dresser in his lady’s wear?
Someone singing ♫Be my Teddybear♫?
A mugger waiting in a thoroughfare?
Terrorists, planning guerrilla warfare?
Someone trimming their armpit hair?
Politician, changing his nom de guerre?
A Christian, reciting the Lord’s Prayer?
Looking for a policeman, full of despair?
Some might be out, taking in the night air?
Some with a food cupboard that’s bare?
Stealing a car, phone or a Frigidaire?
Some in places, not wanting to be there?
Loyal, abstainers or having an affair?
So many bodies and minds in disrepair?
In Brexit, they find nothing fair-and-square!
Voters for Brexit, Oh yea!

Are we all going as mad as a March hare?

I thank you!

1Mon01

A few WHERIBWBBISA Official Photographs of Weevils attacking in flat 72 Woodthorpe Court over the last few months or so… You get to like ’em after about six months!

A few from November:

 

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A few from October:

 

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A few from September:

 

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A few from August:

 

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A few from July:

 

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A few from June:

 

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RIP

Evening Skies, from Inchcock’s Kitchen Window – Part of the The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe series

Evening Skies, from Inchcock’s Kitchen Window

2Tue26

Views that started Inchcock’s brain rambling off, thinking, pondering over and worrying about everything. Frustrated that he can do nothing about anything nor even comprehend, understand or communicate with his own mind!

2Tue07b

The sky tonight: It’s polymorphous really did impress me,

The dying sun, struggling through the darkness, expressly,

Should have inspired a song, probably from Elvis Presley,

Magnificence flowed, from apex to apogee,

The above line is wrong, I couldn’t find another word to rhyme, you see!

2Tue08a

Ah, the joys of living up high up in the clouds, primarily,

Where I can feel abandoned, sometimes get a bit dizzy,

Seek happiness… but that’s another story,

Viewing this landscape installs much inner psychoactivity,

I had to break off a while, I’d had too much curry,

So off to the Porcelain Throne in a hurry.

2Tue09

As to the reason for the natures ostentatiousness, I’m not privy,

Why mankind’s existence? Finding out is no tantivy,

No point in searching, so close to my logging out of life’s activity,

I blame my failure, on my brains under-activity,

Also on my abundant  impecunity,

My lack of faith and the absence of any divinity!

2Tue10

I’m aware my brain has an impaired cognitivity,

My physical condition deteriorated, no longer of its high-quality,

Ailments abound, and the midriff is a superabundant mass, too much quantity,

My life’s actions have had little bioactivity on others, that’s a sad pity,

Relationship-wise, there’s been a paucity!

2Tue10a

Fellow workers seemed to be more successful, with greater superiority,

They had confidence; that bosses mistook for ability!

Too late for me now, as I approach my senility,

Now I’m classed as having a disability,

I mean apart from my natural stupidity!

2Tue11

Porcelain Throne evacuations, now show great fluidity,

This occurs now with a pungent consistency,

The monthly medications increasing, remind one of mortality,

The brain wakes in the morning with even more veracity,

Often with thoughts lacking in reality,

But I do my best to keep my humour and morality!

2Tue12

I try to keep my medical appointments with accuracy,

I do my bestest, to avoid any turpitude and degeneracy,

Keeping my perambulations regular and ambling, not sprightly,

Sometimes I forget to take my medicines nightly,

When I do miss them, I accept the pains, quite quietly,

For it was me who caused them by acting deficiently!

2Tue12a

I wrote these words in a mood, benignantly,

I dream of helping others to have a laugh, but not confidently,

For I fear that humour’s now being received with severity,

Not with a smile, merriment, or joviality,

Still, the photographicalisations came out chromolithographic.

 

I blame folks worrying, over the UK’s Brexitaliticalisationing!

Poetical Advice on the Ageing Process

Poetical Advice on the Ageing Process

 4Thur03b

Tripping, falling, slipping, dizzy-spells or funny turns

Any one of these, and others can have you over, young ones must learn,

Whatever you are doing, the time will come

When you’ll end unexpectedly on your bum!

And, I assure you it’ll painfull, not numb!

 

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As an aid to remind the young, unprepared whipper-snappers of the dangers wot they are certain to face, I’ve wrote them this little ditty:

To the tune of:

“It’s a long way to Tipperary”

It’s a long way to Topple-over,
It’s a long way to go,
It’s a long way to Topple-over,
My knees won’t let me up I know,
Goodbye, Being Healthy,
Farewell, teeth and hair!
It’s a long, long way to Topple-over,
Old age isn’t Fair!

It’s a long way to Topple-over,
It’s a long way below,
(Be-bom-bom-bom)
It’s a long way to Topple-over,
Despite you’re best endeavour,
(Be-om-be-bombombombom)
Goodbye, being healthy,
Farewell, teeth and hair!
It’s a long, long way to Topple-over,
Get back up if you dare!

Published in support of the Japanese Vick Inhaler Population in need.

In Japan, over-the-counter allergy/sinus medications that contain

the ingredient pseudoephedrine such as Vicks inhalers and

Sudafed are banned under Japan’s strict anti-stimulant drug laws.

Sometimes…

00Thoughts

Sometimes…

Sometimes, I fear the approach of satanophany,
Which sounds demonic, weird and uncanny,
Sometimes, I’ll go out on a shopping spree,
This doesn’t last long, I run out of money,
Sometimes, I search for love, but I find a banshee,
I don’t understand what she sees in me?
Sometimes, I lose my hearing aids, pen or door key,
Credit card, bus-pass, I was once stung by a bumble-bee,
Sometimes, I enjoy a mug of English Breakfast tea,
Only a small one mind, or else I’ll forever wee-wee,
Sometimes, I sing, it sounds a right cacophony,
Neighbours tell me to stop my out-of-tune baloney,
Sometimes, I feel the onset of old age idiocy,
Being lonely, I tried to join a synomocy,
Sometimes, I believe in Democracy,
With its inherent bureaucracy,
Sometimes, I can’t cope with life’s importunity
I’m ready to snuff it, given the opportunity,
Sometimes, I’m fed-up with the governing kakistocracy,
Not educated, don’t what a Glurk is, or an apostrophe,
Sometimes, I want to live my life hassle free,
Or sod-off out of it, like Crocodile Dundee