– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I think there must be someone high up there, Who decided who would or would not have hair, A sort of overlord, Tsar or Universal Emporer, Who decided what would be unfair or fair… Created humankind, including Pol Pot & Hitler, Mugabe, Stalin, Putin, so many experts in tyranny, Giving his creations free will was undoubtedly silly. National leaders full of thimbleriggery, Thus, we have wars, dictators and seigniory, Nations ruled discretely by the oligarchy, Dominated in the name of greed, sinfully, I see the end of Earthlings… undoubtedly, Did he/she mean to create humankind’s ubiquity? Was he/she mistaken in giving us free will? Maybe! Why bother at all? Was it experimentally? A challenge from the boss of the next galaxy? Was Earth ever meant to be cruelly umpty? Should it have been mankind-free? If accurate, Adam & Eve are the ones guilty! I was going to muse over Starmer, you see… But I’ve got to go for another urinoscopy,
Not that I’ll ever again manually pee!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
So far behind. Going to be a cut-short version.
Morning views.
Ablutions carried out. 3 tiny cuts shaving. Little Inchie fungal lesion bleeding. Shaking Shoulder Shirley throughout the session. Porcelain Throne painful, bloody and yet messy as well? Beats me!
08:45: The caregiver arrived. He had been delayed somewhere and was in a rush to catch up. I forgot to ask him to put on the diabetic socks for me. I’m blooming cold! Hehe!
Computer on. Update from Windows, update from WordPress and update from CorelDraw.
The browser froze again.
I still hadn’t got the browser available. Carer Joanne did the midday call. (I gave her a gentle hug and a kiss) Joanne put on the new socks for me—bless her. THe hospital kept her in on her visit. The test showed various levels tested for to be too high or low. (Catheter-needing problems, so painful). Gladly, she is out again, obviously. Super news! XXX
I’m assuming here cause the timings etc., could well be all too cocked up, as I spent so long getting the computer to restart and work, I did not make any notes on the reminder pad.
Took these close-ups of the local residences.
The Browser played up again, and an update took a long time. So, I took some more Kodak photos.
The DVT Nurse Hristina rang. I think she said that she would be calling on Monday around 08:00hrs. The reason for my uncertainty is that a mammoth seizure, the longest I’ve ever had, came over me after I put the phone down.
When things clicked back in with me, I’d been working on the computer and making a hash of it. It took me hours to make things right. Then when I went on CorelDraw, I found I’d done the same there. I’d also saved some photos, not many, but they were saved all over the place, and again, a lot of time was lost searching for them to use, as the computer had stopped allowing me to save again. That needed me to use the Ccleaner; by the time I got the long-winded procedure over with, I’d forgotten where I was before! Depressions Dawned!
These seizures are a fantastic thing to understand. They can come on for seconds without me even realising, or like this one did, for hours. I merrily press on, no idea what I’m doing or have done. A sort of… erm, I’m not sure how to describe it.
If the telephone rings, the door chimes, or anyone comes in the room, I’m instantly back in the running, aware, almost alert. But this is often reversed when I find the things I’d been doing that I’d forgotten about. One such instance today was when Chris left after the evening call. I found a paper dish with crumbs in it, and it was warm on the side of the sink. I must have heated it up in the microwave and eaten it; no food was in the bin. This morning, I realised the cornish pastie was not in the fridge… it must have been in my tummy? Hahaha!
This may be why I often go to the fridge to get something and find it is not there? Worralife!
I assume it could be linked to or spurred on by FND. Neuropathic Myoclonus: (sudden, brief involuntary twitching or jerking of a muscle or group of muscles. The twitching cannot be stopped or controlled by the person experiencing it.
All these are linked to Peripheral Neuropathy, which itself is caused by one’s Neurotransmitter’s dying. This causes problems for the brain to read the messages being sent to it, and often, the brain gets confused and responds with the wrong responses.
It’s challenging to master cooking in a microwave.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A new Google font here; it’s called Oregano.
Do you like it? Please let me know,
Ah, the ode; here’s how it does go…
The missus told me she was feeling chestier,
I said that’s my job and I took a gander… She gave me a swift backhander, We made up and had a mutual pander, She was a big gal, my Grizelda, It’s been over 20 years since I’ve held her, The best bits that I can remember… The sex was out-of-this-world, boshter! She made perfect sausages in batter, We cared not for technomania, No TV, computer – they didn’t matter, We both shared a nostomania… For sex, again and again, & more frequenter, My passion ended when I lost her… In heaven, I hope to find her… I’ll get her location from St Peter… It by chance I should again find her… I hope I’ll not still be wearing the catheter? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Andy is another furry who only needs his expressions; they are more transparent than if he had a voice. He loves a greenie and can get grumpy, but we all love him, including me!He regularly nods off cause he is sleepy,
Doug’s a real entertaining Kitty! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Huh! – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – There are 5 Actually, Sorry– –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I stirred and passed wind rather violently and lay there feeling and listening to the birth of an in-my-tummy tsunami brewing up. There was no time for messing about. I needed to escape the clutches of the bed, free the nocturnal catheter pouch, and hasten to the Porcelain Throne ASAP! Once again, things didn’t go according to plan for me. After getting my night bag off in a flap, I went with Willie-the-Wooden-Walking-Stick to the wet room. En route, I knocked a bottle off the bed table and stubbed my toe. I almost tore off the dressing and nightgown, throwing them on the floor and plonked my bottie on the porcelain. The evacuation started before I got settled. I think it must be the liquidest evacuation I’ve ever suffered! And boy, did it reek! Yes, it did! The evacuation lasted about thirty seconds. It spattered everywhere. What a stinking mess I made of the wet room! It must have taken me thirty minutes to clean everything up. How some liquid got onto the floor is still unknown; splashbacks? Then, a real insult to injury. As I was doing the mopping up, I had to move the bucket, not an easy manoeuvre with Willie and the mop to contend with; the mop slipped from its resting place on the floor cabinet… the only part of my body it hit, was my on my foot’s Onychocryptosis: ingrowing toenail. As I was quietly cursing my luck, I caught the bucket, lifting my foot to ease the pain, and spilt some of the contents back onto the just-cleaned floor! What with the day catheter leaking down my leg and soaking my sock, slipper, foot and floor yesterday, the computer problems, and a lousy night’s sleep, now another embarrassing evacuation this morning, I got the feeling that I just might even be unluckier than I thought I was. Haha! I finished cleaning up and returned to the bed to tidy it up. This was when I noticed that the bottle I’d knocked off the ottoman in my rush to get to the had burst open and spilt on the same spot on the carpet that I’d involuntarily wee-weeded on Saturday! More cleaning up was required, and all I’d done was get up to visit the WC!
I decided to make a mug of tea. Once in the kitchenette, I got that ‘Oh, Dear’ feeling; had I left the taps running in the wet room? I went to check. Sod Me; I had. Now, there is no hot water to do my ablutions. This irked me a little, and I hobbled hastily out of the wet room, worrying if I’d left the kitchenette tap running! And walked into the door frame… I think I’m either addicted to shoulder-charging door frames, or the NHS needs to get a move-on in tending to my Glaucoma Gladys problem and eyesight! Still, it allowed me to discuss my concerns and how I couldn’t get help. Fair enough. I know I was only talking to a wooden doorframe about them, but the doorframe and I seem to have gotten closer over the years. We’ve become firm friends. Hahaha!
I won’t bore you with much about the computer, CorelDraw, and personal failures; just say I’m struggling more than ever.
An ailment that has been so kind to me these last few days has returned with a vengeance. This made things even more complicated to cope with on the computer. She must have visited me dozens of times, and after each one, I was lost as to what I was doing before she paid me each visit. I got in a right mess this afternoon with it. I thought I’d just run the Ccleaner. I went into a dipsy mode for ten minutes or so. I carried on doing the cleaning again. A window told me there was a problem with Norton, Google, and something else that meant nothing to me. A graph of Something Assistant’s workings, which I could not make any sense of, began. I didn’t know if I should minimise, close, or leave it running. I left it running and went to get a cold water wash. I didn’t shave in cold water and dared not carry a kettle of hot water from the kitchen to the room.
I started cleaning up the kitchen a bit. Then I remembered I’d turned off the computer (which I hadn’t). I returned to the desk, and the Assistant thingy was still working in the graph window. I decided on another well-calculated risky guess or gamble and turned everything off without saving anything. The computer would not let me. Grumph & Clagknackers!
I washed my feet in a bowl of water, had an unfruitful search for my bus pass, and did a bit of muttering. Then I restarted the computer about an hour later. This was about teatime. The computer let me save some graphics (top) and photos to a file but stopped after allowing a few. I don’t want to tell you my reaction; it was, but desperately futile and dangerous come to mind. Desperate worried me the most. Hehe! Early this morning, I took this shot on the left from the kitchenette window. Why or how the computer let me save this one remains one of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, lack of support, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? Still, never mind.
Awaiting the arrival of the evening carer now. It is too early to start cooking cause the Carer may come while I’m noshing. So, another late meal. It’s not that I’m really bothered.
Carer Ali (evening) arrived, and I told him about my terrible start to the day. We both laughed. I was given medications, and I went into the kitchen. The potatoes had boiled over and stained the cooker, floor, saucepan and counter! I was livid at myself! Carer Ali had to leave; he took the rubbish bag from the disaster with him to the waste chute. I had to clean the floor, counter, sink and saucepan. But I still have the lamb burgers in the oven. I’ll eat each of them with two slices of bread and some tomatoes if they are still edible. I even managed to add another burn to my knuckles, putting the assessed lamb back in the oven. It’s hard to select a word for how I feel without swearing!
I finished the burgers. I took photos of the saucepan, cooker, and so-called meal I’d made, but we’ll see if the computer will let me use them in the morning.
The story behind this miserable meal. I took this snap later after I found the potatoes had boiled dry in the saucepan and covered the cooker with bubbling, boiling salted water, and the new pan stained, and the handle melted!
This week has undoubtedly proven that I need more help.
Two failures to get to the Porcelain Throne in time.
Three times, the hot water tap was left running.
Two Catheter leaks that both left me with pee on my socks, feet, and the carpet.
I’m beginning to suffer more confusion and memory loss after each of the seizures.
I must ask a Carer to ring the Social for me, even if it means I must go to a home.
BONUS INCHY ODE
I thought I was depressed before,
I think I need help even more,
Eyesight, hearing & memory poor,
I’ve lost willpower & confidence, for sure!
Leaks from the rear-end and catheter,
I’m now a supreme new bruise getter…
A decent bloodletter & bloodshedder,
It’ll only get embarrassingly badder,
I’m constantly dropping the eyedropper,
Falling, tumbling, coming a cropper,
Existence has lost all of its allure…
I regularly get a mental flashover,
Cartilages, Shaking-Shirley’s-Shoulder,
Electric Shocking Sherida…
Sham’s Mini-Seizures,
Arthur Itis and Colin Cramps getting older!
Depressions are getting far deeper,
An easy target for any crook or fraudster,
Cooker taps left on, there’s no hot water,
Mercy, compassion, give me no quarter,
Staying extant is getting fraughter,
Monday morning, I felt my heart flutter,
Will it be going into failure?
Failure; at that, I’m the master!
In this world, I now feel like a squatter,
As I age, problems get thornier,
Concentration gets weaker,
My breathing echos like a Zither,
Life is a bore that I’ve managed to endure,
New ailments arrive that to cannot abore,
I ask the Lord; Is there to be any more?
I drop things as I get more ambisinister, Vocally, I’m becoming a babbler,
Fears, worries, increase my paranolia,
I forget what it was I was thinking over,
Some days, I feel inept, angrier, peakier,
Frustrated, depressed, or and weaker,
My outlook continually grows bleaker,
Now the computer won’t let me save a picture!
My mishmash of thoughts turns into a quagmire,
Do I need a psychological rejigger?
I need examinations done, ocular…
Audial, Diabetic & see the Doctor… The world has never been my oyster,
My logicality & common sense get meagrer,
Each unsolvable problem is a monster,
When I die, go to the next sphere,
I hope to God they don’t send me back here! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – That Starmer gave me back the money he’d stole, To pay for, to fill in the Tories black hole, Proving he’s a greedy, uncaring arsehole,
He eats pheasant & bison; for me, a rissole! I went to get my Omeprazole, To get them down my food whole, In the box, £20 notes, quadruple! Had Keir decided to repay me? Mayhap he felt a smidgen guilty? No, that can’t be; he has no pity… I had a surge in my memory, I put them in the box for an emergency. That was back around 1973… They don’t look like the new ones, see! Would they be any good to me? A man who cannot manually wee… Who’s on his way to going potty! I planned his ode; now it’s plot-free! Gone into the ether – Oh, dearie me! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I took another pasting from the computer today. I spent more time cleaning, closing, and rebooting it than using it! It still refuses to save some snaps and graphics, whatever I do. Now, when it refuses to save, it takes off many photos I was trying to save with an old name and refuses to save anything with a new number or name. I was using it from the previous time. I can’t believe the mess I’ve gotten myself into with it! Grumph, Gnash & Gnangles!
Up late today, 06:35hrs. Took off the nocturnal catheter bag while I was still on the bed. A better colour, though. Carer Chris classed it as a four.
I went to do the safety checks in the wet room and kitchenette. The view was clear after so much fog that I snapped it. Later, the fog fell, but the computer stoically refused to save the photo of the fog to go on WordPress. I tried saving another one with a new name, but that was impossible all day! (Up to now, 15:00hrs.) Grrr!
I decided I might just get the ablutions done before the first Caregiver arrived, but I dared not use the shower, as it was still a bit early and may disturb the other tenants. Before I could get the things ready, Caregiver Christopher arrived. Chris sorted the medications, got a telephone call and went to the balcony to answer it. Cor, the cold blew up my legs and my not-underpanted lower regions. Brr! Hehehe! I nearly asked him to put the diabetic socks on but decided against it, as I intended to get back to doing the ablutions. Chris said he would call back later and put them on for me.
It all went flowingly with the stand-up wash and shaving. Only one teeny-weeny cut shaving. No teeth or gums bleeding. And I seemed to get a crack on with it and sing to myself, too! Yes! As I recall, Elvis, Billy Fury, Rick Nelson, and Adam Faith songs—well, the words as best I could remember of them. However, the evacuation on my Porcelain Thrones was again a super-messy affair. It was still a three-tone colourisation as it had been for the last three days. Blacks, dark browns and yellows. Even the cleaning up seemed to take less time this morning. I feared I may break out in a feeling of semi-contentment.
I spent hours and hours getting not very far with the blog. Updating yesterday went smoothly, and the computer let me save the two belated graphics I needed.
I was worried about that!. That was the limit of its compassion! I got fed up with taking shots of the fog and being unable to use them, so not many new photos made it to Inchy Today.
The ode for today was just not flowing, so I added a bit of humour to it. Strewth, Christopher’s midday call arrived as if I’d just blinked from when he came earlier. The lad got the painkillers given to me and put on the thicker, longer diabetic socks for me. Ah, that’s warmer now! I was going to take a photo of the socks to show you how thick and long they are, but my confidence from earlier had been shattered.
I took another snap of the misty view. Then I cut up and seasoned the potatoes and put them in an oven tray, ready for when the oven heated up enough.
Then, I tried again to get these two photos, this time on CorelDraw and into this blog. It took a few tries, and I had to save somewhere else. I couldn’t remember for ages where I’d saved them, but I did get them on belatedly. Then it let me save the snap of Caregiver Christopher. When he was on the balcony on his phone, I could not hear what was being said. Cunning and bothering!
I took this one earlier, and this time, it was saved!
Computers (well, this one certainly is) are one of the banes of my life!
This is a mystery photo. Obviously, it was taken in error. I assume I don’t know what, where, or why I took it. Is it unlikely that some clever person reading this can trigger my mind?
Ah, the potatoes can go in the oven now. I’ve got 35 minutes to get the computer cleaned.
Incidentally… CorelDraw Did Not Crash today! There’s a first over the last 4 days. This worries about what it will do tomorrow!
I ate more biscuits today than I ever have before. I blame the hassle of the computer getting at me more and more! I think my gobbling all those cookies (naughty, I know) ruined the taste of the meal. It looked and smelt good, but it tasted the same as the cookies. Hehe!
Carer Chris did the last visit for me. Painkillers were issued, the diabetic socks removed, and off he trotted on his way back to his wife and son, Gideon.
It was another horrible night. I woke up in pain so often that I gave up and got up around 04:10hrs. I needed the Porcelain Throne urgently. Only just made it in time! I wonder if the meal was out of date?
I woke at about 06:24,
Little Inchie was still sore.
Urine colour a number four,
WC is needed; that’s for sure…
On the Throne, liquid did pour…
A messier mess; upon the floor,
And my belly looked ampler!
Bother from Toothache Tiffany,
Cartilage pain in each knee,
Took a photo, & made the tea,
Spilt the milk, dearie me!
Minutes late back on the WC!
Hit my shoulder on the door frame – I gave it an apology!
Inadequate responses from my memory,
My perception was not at its keenest,
The computer was at its absurdest…
Whatever I tried, attempted or pressed,
The damned machine soon got me so depressed,
I didn’t know what to do for the best…
I repeatedly tried Norton and the Ccleaners,
Run them, close all down, restart… no go, oh, bejesus!
The analyser failed and worsened my ailments & derivatives,
Launching moments of non-stop depression,
Spent little time creating and more on correcting,
But mostly, I spent more time failing…
No point in photographing or graphicalising,
I spent ages preparing and hoping…
On creating this so far, pictureless blogging!
No confidence; I feel like a circumforanean…
I swear I’m cursed with and by a cacodemon!
Carer Christopher issued the morning medication,
I didn’t sulk, but it was a temptation,
Today’s confusion, indecision, & apprehension,
Indicated that insanity was a possible option!
Life’s a hotchpotch, thought, a motley collection,
Most of my ideas seem to have no connection…
I’m still up for socialising and adoption,
It’s from Doreen Dementia that I need protection!
Carers Chloe & Kara came calling,
Kara explained to Chloe my financialisationing,
So next week, Chloe can sort out the banking,
All done in ten minutes, amazing!
Of course, I’ll not be remembering!
I had another go at grapicalisationing,
Tried to save it for WordPressing,
But not all of the photographing,
Gawd’s truth, some went in!
Those above, I tried to save more, praying…
But CorelDraw started crashing!
I turned it all off, restarted it, again got it going,
But the bloody pictures were again not saving!
Two hours to again use Norton and Ccleaning!
I took two shots from the kitchen window,
The clouds were so beautiful and low, To the left and right, in auto,
Earlier ones I’d taken still would not go,
Into the file or WordPress, though!
I swore a bit in Fortissimo!
MEAL MADE Royal Anya potatoes & chicken,
Beetroot, tomatoes, not forgetting…
Yoghourt, a tasty curd, lemon!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – ‘Now look mush’, I uttered… I know when my bread’s buttered, No wonder I can see only the one gate, Because it was hell on earth, mate! Born to poverty, what a state! Miserable, I died broke & intestate! Bad eyesight, cancer pancreate. Catheter, Peripheral neuropathy,
Mental & physical inadequacy,
Got shot twice, the leg and chest, Born with nothing, I’ve got most of it left!
I grew floppy, womanlike breasts,
No help at my begging or behest!
Ended up losing loves like Audrey…
Grizelda, Marie, Christine & Suzie, Am I pissed off? Absobloodylutely!
Send me back again? There’ll be some argie-bargie! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’d fallen asleep in the £300 second-hand shop-purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. The broken, ever-wakening sleep was no worse or better than struggling to get in and out of bed. I must have had ten bad nights on the trot now. Talking of trot, my first aim of the day was to get to the Porcelain Throne ASAP. The rumbling and grumbling started as I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Trotsky Terence won the battle, as he had for eleven days now, but Constipation Conrad was trying a counterattack, and there were some small globules and lumps in the basin. Once again, all the evacuated varieties are composed of almost black and light brown/karki. It was colourful, almost, but messy. I had a body scrub and medicated the areas in need. I didn’t shave, but I may brave it to have one later.
I’d not noticed what the time was when I woke, but after the wet room session, I went to the kitchen to check the taps, etc. and took a photo of the dark, foggy view that was on offer from the kitchen window. , I knocked the clock mentioned above off of the window ledge. Then I got out the last of the four clocks I bought last year, put a battery in, and set the time right. 04:55hrs.
I got the computer on and soon regretted doing so. Over the next six hours, I went through torment, botherations, mood swings, and frustrations and ended up in a deep depression. CorelDraw crashed three times! CCleaner failed to enable me to upload photos, so I tried it with the Norton cleaner and had the same results. Zilch success!
During these hours, Carer Shaquille called. Then Carer Kimberley had to do the financial help, which she couldn’t because no one had shown her how, and I didn’t know. I had the joy of Carer Kara doing it all for me for months. But learnt nothing, or couldn’t remember, how to get through to the bank on the website; none of the passwords or numbers were safe in Kara’s mind. She has been moved into the carer’s office. I had to close everything down five times! My failings and inabilities made me feel even worse.
As it got lighter, amidst the computer problems, I gave up on the computer and turned everything off. I made myself a brew of Glengettie tea and ate four large cookies in dunking mode. I took six photographs as I went to wash the mug. Amazingly, the computer let me save the first two. But the other four, which had caught some seagulls flying on them, were not getting saved for some reason. The old photos I was saving had disappeared! I tried renaming the old images first, but that didn’t work either. They still went off into the ether. Saving was difficult enough before this happened! Grrr! I can’t take much more of this.
Yet earlier, when updating yesterday’s blog, it sent everything. I know there were only 4 snaps and graphics, but it seems terribly hit-and-miss since then. More miss that hit!
I got a comment from cyber-mate Tim about me trying a Tablet to solve the computer issues. I felt like a fool, not knowing what one was. Another message with links to suitable types of Tablets on Amazon. I tried them and got this message.
This is a very long-winded bit. Skip it if you like. Again! In the afternoon, after Carer Kimberly had been. She’s going to do her best to get me some help. I was going back on the computer after her visit and heard something drop that obviously I’d knocked off of the end of the c1962 Hopwells sideboard, with the hanging off doors and unclosable drawers; it took me a while to discover that it was my mobile phone. I searched everywhere, looking for it, without finding it, so I assumed it was that it fell. I moved things, boxes, books, etc., searching for it. The only place I’d not looked was underneath the sideboard. I had to search for my wind-up torch, and more time was lost! I could not bend down too far, fearing that Dizzy Dennis would have on my knees. But the frustration of not knowing where it had got to, if it was the phone that made the clunking noise and not something else, meant I’d lost the mobile. I’m making hard work of this for you. Sorry! I bent down a smidge too low with the torch search and lost my balance. Banged down on the knees, which was probably the least damaging fall ever… but one of the most painful, worse than the head wound one. Arthur Itis in the knees, the Cartilage Sister Carol and Chloe really hurt… then I felt even more pain from poor Little Inchie, as the Catheter tubing yanked at him when I tried to move as I tried to get to the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner, to attempt to haul myself up.
I then realised I could have used my 1982-model newly found mobile to call for help. The thought of pressing the alarm wristlet button never came into my mind—what a clot!
Then it dawned on me that I didn’t know any numbers!
Aha! I spotted the new landline where Carer Kara had put Meridian Care, Warden Deana, and Sister Janes’ auto numbers for me. I pressed the preset bottom and got ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. Who kindly said she would get some help and come up. ♥
As I waited, I did my best to get my elephantine wobbly body back up on its plates. (Slang for plates-of-meat), Feet!)
But there was little chance that I could, and I couldn’t!
Minutes later, the rescuers arrived. I was in a praying position on my painful knees. They took an arm each from the back and hauled me up. They were here for about two minutes, did a grand job and rushed off. Both were busy ladies. Thank you! ♥
Carer Israel arrived for the teatime medications.
I was telling him of my Whoopsiefauxpas but stopped when I realised he was writing on his log.
Then back on blog catchup.
Then, on the WordPress Reader.
I was serving the meal and took a shot of the late-evening view from the kitchenette window.
Can you see the ghostlike child in the clouds? Or dog?
The computer let me save these last two photos to WordPress in the morning!
Doesn’t it look horrible?
The Parmentier potatoes were baked in the oven, along with a pot of Polish pork knuckle meat, Milk Roll bread, and tons of strong Branston sauce.
I agree that the meat looks sickeningly repugnant. But the taste, especially the pork jelly, was lovely!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 05:45hrs: I woke up after a much better night’s sleep.
I took off and pictured the nocturnal catheter pouch. It was lighter-coloured for once, but not a lot of it.
I sat on the bed, and a deep thought overcame me. When it had finished, I made the bed… well, straightened it a bit. Then I went into the kitchen to ensure I’d not left the taps (faucets) running, the oven on, or the fridge doors open. I’d left a mess, but there was nothing untoward on the safety checks to report. I realised I’d forgotten to take the urine pouch with me, and I returned to the big room to collect it. Could I find it? Nope! I recall photoing it on the overbed table, but it was nowhere to be seen. I risked bending down to look under the bed, Nope! Under the Carers table. Nope! Thought I may have taken it with me and put it down somewhere in the kitchen, so I hobbled back to take another look. Nope!
Have I already been to the wet room to empty it? I poddled to the WC room to check. Nope! I felt a little nonplussed. It will undoubtedly turn up when I’m not looking for it. If this takes some time, the urine’s aroma or pong from the pouch should help my nose to locate it.
I’m off to the wet room on a dual mission.
Now, that was a different evacuation than most of them. Two-tone, distinctly brown and black, in what looked like cube-shaped mini-rugby balls (about eight) that plopped out simultaneously… followed by a mini-torrent of almost liquid jelly. The word I’m looking for is, Gooey! But no Whoopsiedangles today, just that I had to spend so long cleaning.
Did the teggies, and then I nervously tackled having a shave. Making absolutely sure I did not use the razors anywhere near the mystery wound on the back of my head. It went well. Two new shaving nicks, for they were hardly worth mentioning; a splash of the Brute soon stopped their flow. I managed a mini-, which was quickly followed by another. I suddenly became nervous as I thought I might have left the tap running in the kitchen. This thought seemed possible, as the hot water I used to shave was not as hot as usual. Stark naked, catheter bag hanging loose, I had to hasten to the kitchen to make sure… and I shoulder-charged the door frame in my rush, thus setting off . I got in the kitchen to find the hot water tap running, thankfully only slowly. As I almost lunged at the tap to turn it off, I against the corner of the trolley. I merely laughed these Accifauxpas off. No swearing or getting upset about things whatsoever. Things worsened when I returned to the wet room to shave. When I looked in the mirror, I saw that my nose, lower face, chin, throat, and under my left eye were an odd reddy-blue colour! The Carer took a snap of it for me as she arrived, at the same time as the food order came. A bit of a hectic start to the day. Haha!
Carer Sham got the medications. She put on my diabetic socks—put them on my legs, I mean. She then helped me get the food into the kitchen and put it away. Bless her! As Sham did the paperwork, I asked if she could see the marks on my face. The delivery driver gave me an odd look; I thought he must have seen the state on my face. Sham did, but it had almost left when I looked in the mirror. It almost needed a magnifying glass to still see it.
Sainsbury’s sent two loaves of Milk Roll bread, and both had a sell-by 22nd Oct date.
Carer Sam arrived. She could not see any blotches on my face at all, either. Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morgana that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Not that it matters; there were no pains, aches or itches with the facial globules. I suppose it may be a different form of the Excema or Acne?
The seizures had an hour or two with me. I think they varied from a few seconds to one that lasted about 15 minutes, as best I can estimate.
I was doing the second of the Ccleaner runs, and after this one, the computer let me get just one of the photos that had been refused earlier onto the blog. It was, I think, the third one I took this morning from the kitchen window. Not very good, but I like to show the dozens of my failed photos along with the odd one that comes out right. Hahaha!
Late afternoon, and I took these two snaps of the wonderful bubbly clouds.
In the first one, I can see a hand being held out to the left. It could be an animal’s head, an eel or a snake, maybe?
The second, taken to the left of the kitchen window, contained a feast of figures to be found.
Then the computer got sulky, and no more photos or graphics could be saved!
I was so tired and fed up, I turned off the computer and took two more evening sky shots. Hopefully, after more monotonous Ccleaning in the morning, these and the later ones can be saved, and I can add them then, hopefully with the snap of the terrible ready-made meal.
Carer Chris made the last two calls, but the lad seemed a little uptight. I’ll see and ask how he is at the morning call.
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Wednesday Morning
I cleaned with Ccleaner and saved most of the snaps I could not yesterday. So, here they are belatedly.
The end of Citrus Walk, beyond the car park. This is where the old garages used to be; each one had been broken or attempted to be broken into, so they didn’t replace them. Sad for the druggies who can no longer access them for smoking, trading and sniffing, and of course, there’s nothing for the poor little mites to steal anymore.
Sunset
Undercooked carrots, teeth-breaking beef, hardly any gravy, overcooked garden peas, crumbly potatoes… well ¾ of a small potato. The lemon yoghourt was nice. Hehe!
After sunset shots… After sunset shot. After sunset shot.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I stirred from my slumber. My immediate thoughts and concern was to make sure the computer would allow me to save graphics & photographs. I thought a little prayer might help, so I offered one up). I unhitched the attached nocturnal catheter bag that hung from the day bag. Put it on the wobbly, weak, over-bed table so the carer can give me a colour rating when he/she arrives. I just had to see if the graphics could be saved to use in this blog, well, at that point, yesterday’s.
So I got the computer on without taking any photos and visited the Porcelain Throne. Thankfully, I made it in good time. This morning’s evacuation was without accidents, whoopsiedangleplops, accifauxpas, or embarrassments. But it was almost as messy as Sunday’s visit. It’s not that I was too smug about it; I was more concerned with getting the graphics on the blog. I cleaned up the wet room furniture, and I had the slightest wash possible. I didn’t shave after the Accifauxpa on Sunday; I think I was a smidge nervous and concentrated on the computer as an excuse for not shaving. Hope that makes sense.
Not a lot went too well today!
I put on the three photographs from last night, making them smaller and losing some quality, but all three were saved! At this point, I thought, while I was doing them, I would get some shots for today done and saved, and I got the fice graphics for the top of the page done—still resisting going into a smug mode, I may have learnt a lesson after yesterday’s farce.
Updating the Sunday blog revealed so many mistakes that it took me three hours to correct them, although I feel I must have missed some more. My eyesight is so variable it seems to react to different light levels. When the sun is out, it is far worse. Glaucoma Gladys, I assume. I wondered if they would bother doing this operation at all; it’s been a long time since the Cataracts were done. The Doctor said they couldn’t be done until they knew the Cataract operation was successful. I’m still waiting to hear from them. But never mind. I was interrupted when Carer Richard arrived. I calmed myself down and made a brew of Glengettie tea. I was well cheered up after telling Richard about the tumble and how I wasn’t sure if it was a razor cut or if I’d hit my head in the tumble. He said, smilingly, “We will have to send you into a home if you don’t stop having falls!” I laughed along with it, thinking he was joking. The memories of my stay in a ‘home’ after having the stroke came flooding back to me. It was a three-month nightmare! Then again, it’s no picnic living here nowadays. Imprisoned in the flat. Asking for help for me to get to the Doctor’s, dentist and opticians. Begging someone ot ring up and ask if they can do the injections at the flat, as they do for other house-bounders in the block. But they do not have the time to spend ringing the lifts and surgery and are put on hold with, as the last time, getting a; “You are nineteenth in the queue…” message. It’ll be too late for the flu and pneumonia injection soon. So, maybe a home might be a viable option? Then I remembered what happened in the one I was in and changed my mind.
I took two views from the kitchen, and after doctoring them, I tried getting them to save. No chance! I used the Ccleaner and went through the process as instructed, then turned everything back on, having to resign – on Norton, WP, Google and MS.
But would CorelDraw let me save anything? No!
So, I went through a clean-up via Norton. That failed, now the depression was gripping me!
I foolishly thought I’d see what I could delete. After the last cock-up, when I lost over 2000 photos, you think I would never try to do that again, wouldn’t you… & stupidly, I did!
I’ve lost, and don’t ask me how I did, I don’t know, all of today’s photographs I’ve taken! I used some from the WordPress gallery and got so angry with myself.
I reran the CC and got the last graphic to load.
Then, I took some more photos and tried them.
The camera told me the SD needed formatting, so I did. I’d forgotten all about it — it clears the card altogether!
Then, I was so low that I gave up.
Inner hatred and loathing, worrying about my situation and unsolvable problems as I sat here, spiritless.
Then I realised it was nearly time for the 17:30hrs carer to come. It was too late to make a meal, and the anguish had made me hungry for some reason. But I did have a stew of sorts. I sat here stewing over and over; I felt defeated.
Made another brew of Glengettie. And rare resolve came over me. “Sod it!” I’ll look at the WordPress comments, if there are any, and go of the WP reader.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My Eyes Are Getting Worse – Endless Mistakes! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Written (started) at 16:15hrs: A terrible night’s sleep again. The computer, bank, medical needs, the camera, TV & remote, a tumble later this morning, Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, Memory-Mashing-May, Glaucoma Gladys, Catheter Cathy’s Pain-giving Contraption, Loss-Balance-Belinda, Back-Pain-Brenda, Mini-Seizures, Earache Erasmus, and Toothache Tiffany are just too much to cope with. That’s not counting the computer problems with Word, Excel, CorelDraw & Trotsky Terence. As I was typing this, the browser started doing I don’t know what, but it took a good half-an-hour before I could use it again, then I had to turn everything off and back on again. which I’d done twice earlier, already having to use Ccleaner twice to get some photos to go… I’m fed up!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I woke for the umpteenth time, and I saw it was 06:00hrs. Just as the innards warbled at me, and that automatic butt-clenching you do when you know if you don’t get to the WC on time, you’re going to mess yourself! I had no doubt this was the case. I fumbled out of the bed, stubbing my toe, grabbed Four-Pronged Willy, the walking stick, and limped hastily to the wet room. EMBARRASSMENT – FRUSTRATION -SHAME! What followed was painful, embarrassing and not a pretty sight! I don’t need to tell you what happened, I’m sure.
I spent minutes nonstop swearing as I sat on the Porcelain Throne, clearing out what little of the evacuated produce was left inside me. Most of it was already down my legs and on the floor! Things actually got worse later! My anger and shame stopped me from crying!
A mammoth cleaning-up job was started. Me first, then the terribly sulk-making splashes on the furniture and floor were tackled. Using a mop and bucket while using a walking stick is not easy. I did, I thought, have the sense to take my time sorting it out. All clean again, I put the used kitchen towels (two big rolls) into a bag and put them in the large sharps box for disposal in the medical box. Back to the wetroom, and decided to get the ablutions done.
I did my tegggies—well, the few I’ve got left—and as I overreached to get the shaving tackle, I slipped on some disinfectant I’d put on the floor. I grabbed the trolley to keep from going down, brushing my head against the tackle on the top. I actually thought about going into a Smug Mode. I was so proud of myself for not ending up on the floor. I carried on with the shaving. Until I saw the blood coming down my face, I was sure I’d not cut myself with the razors? Down the side of the face, earhole, mouth, chin, and chest. Oh, dearie me!
The blood was coming from the top of my head, and then I realised it must have happened during the tumble.
I got the brute, liberally soaked some kitchen towels with it, and folded them on my head. That’ll stop it, I thought.
It just took a couple of minutes to finish the shaving, and the blood was down on my face and neck again. Well, I thought, this is unusual. The Brut always stops the flow of the shaving cuts. But not this time. I got some plasters and wadding I’d soaked with the Brut. Then I stuck it tightly on where I thought the wound was with the plasters. Then I did medicationings. Little Inchies fungal lesion ointmentating pain was on a par with my getting the Protection Pants on. The head was not too painful at all. Finally, the wet room was cleaned and sorted!
Got a fresh dressing gown and went into the front room to see how or if the computer would act. My vision was blurred by the blood flowing down again. I realised, by the location of the blood on my hands and the removed dressing, that I’d missed some of the actual wound putting it on. I didn’t realise it was over such a large area. I’ve never had a wound so Bruted before, Hahaha! I could not feel any blood coming through this time. I thought that I’d cracked the problem. I put a woolly bobcap on to keep the pressure on the cut, graze or whatever it was.
Carer P arrived. And when I told P of my farcicalnesses with the ablutioning (not the pooing myself), he looked at it and said it felt dry, and we could take off the dressing now. He asked me first if I’d like him to Peel it off or to Whip it off. I asked for a Whip it off, please!
It bled again, but far less than earlier. Pleasant put another dressing on it for me. Bless him. He rang his controller to ask if the next caller could be made aware and check it for me when they arrived. Nice of him, that!
Then memory problems… me and the computer.
I won’t bore you again with all the details, but I used Norton and Ccleaner thrice to upload some graphics and photos to WordPress. It took me hours, and then I had to upload the files straight away before I ran out of memory again. Harrumph!
Carer Kimberly came next. She had not been informed about my Accifauxpa by anyone. Fancy that! She kindly checked it for me. It was still bleeding, but barely at all now.
Kimberly put a new dressing in. I think I can take it off tonight. She took a photo of the head before it started bleeding again and put a plaster on it. I’ve been looked after today. I didn’t mention the poo-poo. Whoopsie.
Then I got some more snaps that it wouldn’t let me earlier in the day.
This is the early one I took before my Accifauxpas during the rain. This was when I refilled the nibble box on the Nurse’s and Carers’ table.
Some new ones in there that they just might like. I hope the nurses will if they come. A slightly later shot of the local houses, most of which I noticed today, was leaving via Mansfield Road in their cars. Can’t blame them after four people were shot from a vehicle on Winchester Street. Which is about 300 yards from the houses and the flats I live in. The one on the left is a mystery one. No idea why I took it at all. This is a later shot of the houses I took with the old Kodak camera. I also used it to take the saucepan above left. You can tell by the different-sized pictures. Cat Shot of the Week!
Sasha is from New Mexico. Tim Price has a family of cats, and they are all beautiful and characterful. Tim says I can use some photos and hopes to put a cat/s of the week photo on this blog weekly. Sasha has always seemed like a thinking cat; her expression is that of a thinker. I love all of them from a distance. Especially the cheese queue photos.
Carer Alu came and looked at the head. It’s getting better already. I am going to make a meal of sorts for myself: baked crispy (I hope) potatoes, tomatoes with basil, yellow peppers, and sea salt, vegetarian sausages, and some Milk Roll bread to soak up the juices. Slurp!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I hope to be back in the morning. I took this just before the total darkness fell. I wonder if these are part of the Northern Light colours? I must search Google later. I got the meal as planned, made it, and served it. It was terrible-tasting.
I suspect I may have used the wrong seasonings in the tomatoes and sauce. I couldn’t taste any basil at all, but there was another tang to it that I couldn’t recognise and wasn’t too keen on. Tsk! Whatever it was, it ensured one of the messiest-ever dumps in the morning. And a multi-coloured evacuation, from black to beige in varying colours. With mighty super-sticky splashes to clean up, too! I washed the dishes and took another shot from the kitchen window, this time of a different but gorgeous view. Seconds later, the whole sky went dark.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I stirred after one more night of constantly jumping awake. I forced myself into imitation action. Pondering all the time if CorelDraw would open and work, I emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch.
I pottered around for a while, a smidge nervous about what CorelDraw would do to me. After another, even messier Trotsky Terence Porcelain Throne visit and a wash, I bravely turned on the computer, with a slightly nervous bilious feeling coming on. Here we go!
I booted her up, and after the usual blue screen of death came up, I applied the escape routine, and windows started. It looked okay; it took a while.
Then, the high risk of suicide loomed as I clicked on the CorelDraw launcher tab… It opened terribly slowly, which didn’t give me any confidence.
The document colour tags appeared, but they were in minimal mode; I didn’t want to upset anything at this stage until I tried to find out what the updates had changed, other than the minuscule colour swatches.
I tested the artistic text background fault; that was still there. Then I tested the outline and the change font default faults; they were still there. Maybe the upgrade had solved the saving problems. Nope, they are still here! I was disappointed and pleased at the same time! At least things didn’t look any worse than before the so-called upgrade. Before I updated yesterday’s blog, I decided that I’d get the graphic tops done for this blog.
This seemed to go alright. Then, I updated the Friday blog and got it posted. At this stage, Carer Christopher arrived. It was like talking to a robot. Hehehe! It would have been easier to talk to myself, which I do all the time anyway. Don’t we all? He issued the medications, and then he put the diabetic socks on my legs. Then he helped me into the slippers, mobile in hand, and he departed. Hehehe! He’s not a bad lad, is Chris?
ARGHH!I had to put on the graphics, but the usual size was not going on and not saving. It would be saved if I reduced the bitmap to a tiny size. But the resolution was crap when resized. As in the green Sherwood shootings graphic above. Humph!
Others will undoubtedly be useless even if the computer lets me save them. So, today, there are fewer photos than ever. Anger-making! It was very messy. I got the graphic tops and the pouch shots on, but all the others were being rejected. Out of desperation, I used the expensive Norton ‘Utilities Ultimate’. I kept getting warning notices, which only confused me. The operation took about a minute to perform. Now, I need to try making and saving a graphic again on CorelDraw. I’ll make a find-the-differences graphic to use tomorrow. No, no good, it’s not having it! Glungleackers!
Ah, well, I’ll try the cCleaner again; what a farce!
I’ve got to save and close everything to use this; I hope to be back with you by Monday or Tuesday… Humph!
Ran the cCleaner, had to sign into everything again, and tried again to save the two graphics.
Nope! So I closed everything and rebooted the computer.
Tried again to save the graphics to the WordPress gallery,
That got it! But can I afford to spend two hours each time I need to save a graphic or photo? No!
Carer Joanne arrived and gave me some painkillers to get me through. She could tell I was suffering with the Catheter Contraption. The odd Argh! and Ooh! may have given the game away, along with the irresistible urge to clutch my testicles to rearrange the layout into a less painful arrangement. Har-har!
I then uploaded the cloud photos that I had taken earlier to WordPress. I thought I’d never get them on!
Sun coming from the left. Sun glistening on the balcony. You wouldn’t believe it was black plastic of some sort. Higher the beautiful clouds. Lovely view.
But the sun was not very warm.
I’m waiting for the evening Carer; then I can get the lamb and vegetable pie cooking in the oven and make some instant mash with Leicester cheese and red onion in it, to which I’ll add a can of out-of-date garden peas.
That’s the plan.
As I was serving up the meal, the Carer arrived. Took the edge off of the meal, but I still enjoyed it. No photo was taken, and I could not have gotten it on if I had.
Sleep was broken again. I got fed up with waking up so often. Eventually, around 04:00hrs, I rose, and scrambled and fumbled my way out of the bed. Straightened the clothes, got the night bag off the catheter contraption, left it nearby for the Carer to check with the NHS colour Card later. Then, I grabbed the walking stick and went to the wet room for the Porcelain Throne and ablutioning session. I was flabbergasted! This visit was as near to normal as I’ve had for many months! Neither Trotsky Terence nor Constipation Conrad had the advantage! No bleeding, not too messy, and no pain whatsoever! !
This situation didn’t last long, of course. Cleaning myself up after the evacuation was completed, I got a little over-enthusiastic, and I externally caught some of . The blood flowed, making a fair old mess to clean up. However, once again, there was minimal pain! Even when I bent down, I had to get things tidied, only brought on , and he didn’t stay with me for long. No signs of or any bother from or even ! I think I wondered if I was still in bed dreaming all this. It was going great! Fair does, a few painless nicks shaving, that were soon stopped my the Brut aftershave. The teeth cleaning did not spur on ! Can all this be happening? A good stand-up naked body scrub with no problems! I dried off and got medicationing done, and I don’t recall any bother with any of them… Apart from the always painful, which is to be expected and has to be coped with as best I can. It’s like an old friend. Hehehe!
I made a brew of Glengettie tea, and got on the computer. It hurts to say or write that word!
I was taking a photo of the dark morning. I saw the time and realised it must have been 03:00 hrs when I got up; otherwise, I’d never have had time to get all that I’d done in an hour.
Then, it began to get busy in the flat. For many reasons, it was a different start to the day.
The computer was not letting me save artwork or photos, yet did for some. Am I doing something wrong again? I tried to remember what I did yesterday to solve the issue that was back again… And Carer Sham arrived. A nice gal. She got my socks on for me and the medications issued. We had a mini natter, and off she trotted.
Back to the computer problems.
I thought it was the DVT nurse, Hristina. The door chime chimed, but no one came in, so I investigated. It was a District Nurse. The moment I opened the door, she said she was embarrassed and had come to the wrong flat. We both laughed about it, and that is good medicine.
I went back to the computer, but I’d lost the plot altogether now. I was trying to work out what I’d done and not tried when the intercom rang forth. This time, it was my precious Hristina calling. She came in, and we chatted as she got the hypodermic thingies ready. A lovely lady. She soon took the blood samples and an extra one this time so they could check if the Vitamin B5 tablets were working. As we were gossiping before her leaving, the intercom rang again. It was the food delivery from Sainsbury’s store.
Hristina did no less than help me put the things away in the fridge and cupboards. Bless her ♥.
Carer Chloe came next. She was doing the domestics for me, bless her. ♥ She checked the fridge and a cupboard for the sell-by-dates on the products that I could not read them. Well, believe it or not, I took 3 carrier bags that the gal had sorted out, full of out-of-date foods! As I took them to the waste chute, she checked one cupboard. She filled two more carriers with food for the waste chute. She kindly took them to the chute for me as she left. Four more cupboards to sort on her next visit. ♥ She then mopped the kitchen for me. Earned her money, Chloe did! ♥
Then Carer Sam came ♥. We laughed about things. For once, no medications were needed. I kept changing between cheerful, depressed, and not bothered about things.
Then the kicked off out of the blue.
I think I was on the computer until 1730hrs when I came back to ersatz normality because I had no end of correcting to do.
Carer Chris’s arrival brought me back, I think.
We had a natter, and he issued the evening medication and had to rush off after I’d bored him with my tales of the day earlier, which I could recall easily… I hope.
Then I got the spuds in the oven for the evening meal. Back on the computer, adding the pasty to the potatoes after the spuds had been in for 3O minutes. Hope they’ve not burnt
I went to find out… No Problemo! Parmentier potatoes, vegetable pasty, Marmite cheese, yellow and red tomatoes, and Marmite rice cracker, with a splash of Branston Sauce and some liquid sea salt.
A lemon & lime yoghourt to follow!
