Inchcock Today: Wednesday 11th May 2020

Wednesday 11th May 2022

Ode To The Days Prospects

It’s going to be a messy day, says my EQ…
Most of the time, what says comes true,
Ignore him, and Accifauxpas will be due,
Whoopsiedangleplops, & tumbles, too…
Not to mention frustration coming to you!

Below are the details of the day that did accrue…
Although it is only a short, confusing review,
Peripheral Neuropathy troubles, what can I do?
A Facebook message from Timbuktu…
Virgin Internet down again – Boo-boo!

My anger at the above, I must subdue…
It got me in a pickle and nervous stew!
My concentration flailed, then flew…
I suppose, at least in the long view…
Another cock-up, Accifauxpas, is due?

Diary Of Woe

I recovered consciousness at 06:00hrs. No messing about, I rose and caught my balance. I went to get the kettle on, sorted the waste bags, had a wee-wee, then a wash, dressed and made a brew of Glengettie.

So much I had planned to do as well. Bitterly disappointed! I sent painful death wishes through the ether for Herr Fries… well, I can hope! Why? Jealousy and not believing the scumball who cannot a Virgin Media internet signal to Nottingham. Thus, making my life so difficult. Here is what my research found out are the other reason I hate the git to bits: Michael Fries: The estimated Net Worth of Michael T Fries is at least 184 Million dollars as of 1 May 2022. Mr Fries owns over 215,799 units of Liberty Global plc stock worth over $38,181,312, and over the last 9 years, he sold LBTYK stock worth over $22,634,655. In addition, he makes $123,254,000 as Vice Chairman of the Board, President, and Chief Executive Officer at Liberty Global plc. So, you can see why I’m pissed off and jealous?

I pondered on Fries’ nature and outlook. His traits came to mind; Lucre, payoffs, smoke & mirrors, profit, gelt, money, and incapabilities to run Virgin Media with any reliability. A few others came to me… deception, flimflam, hocus-pocus. Illusion, legerdemain, and under-handed professional prestidigitation? I think I’m close.

I can’t load photos, save anything, update yesterday’s blog, or titivate the News Snippets blog. Grrr! If I get any later, I’ll try to get them on. Otherwise, they will have to wait for the pleasure of the computer and SD reader another day.

Having to make a start on this blog using the Windows Notepad. Which does not have formatting to use, so when… silly me… IF the pathetic Liberty-Global Internet ever comes back on, it will take three times as long to get the post from here to the blog – cause it will need formatting again once in there. I’ve just sent another wish through the ether, urging Herr Fries testicles to rot and go gradually, inchmeal, agonisingly putrid.

Half an hour later, I tried to save again, feeling that it would be a waste of time… but I tried it; The New Post button clicked, and Oh, so slowly, the pixelating page came on… I’ll try again… Aha! Well done, Virgin Media, it’s back on… no idea how long for… Back to updating the last diary.

Carer Richard arrived as I was making a brew of Extra Strong tea. I was in the kitchen and did not hear the door chime? And I’d put some olive oil in the ears earlier? The lad looked shattered, and he had another visit to make yet. So I didn’t keep him for too long. I forewent the chatting. Gave him some bits to take home, adding a Tango iced lolly as he left; he likes them. He’s got to start a shift again tonight, as well.

The photos are loaded! Why suddenly? I know not, but I’m just glad they did. (Later, it froze again, so pictures will be missing, Grumph!) I got those that got on into the hard drive. Took a while and a lot of hassle.

As I was putting the SD card back in the camera, I realised that dying neurotransmitters that come with Peripheral Neuropathy had taken over the fingers in my right hand.

Blogging away and the door-chime rang out. It was Amazon with the Distilled vinegar. It’s been that long now; I’d forgotten I’d ordered it.

Got the second blog finished and posted. The time is flashing by now. Blogging on…

I called Warden Deana and asked about the TV licence and door key, which were paid for and ordered three weeks ago. She said she’d be up to see me later.

Blogging, it is getting harder to concentrate now. Herbert was on form again with his noise making.

I blogged on slowly now… Went to make a brew, and Warden Deana arrived. She had the receipt for the TV licence. She texted someone about the lack of the new spare key arriving. No reply. She’ll try again later and let me know.

I took a break from blogging and opened the box with the 5litre plastic bottle of distilled vinegar. The cardboard on the box was covered in plastic tape. I’m glad nobody was listening to me as I did it… There was a little cursing taking place. Hehe! I think it might have taken half a tree to make that box. It took me over an hour to dismantle it. It came close to a cut finger or knuckle a few times, but I managed it without losing any blood… got a few bruises, mind.

Blogging again and trying to get the photos loaded… Huh!

Blimus! It’s 17:25hrs already! I’ll turn off the computer and let it cool down while I make something to eat. Then, all being well, I’ll try to load the photographs again… but I may fall asleep instead… possibly burning the meal as well…

Got the nosh eaten, well I say nosh… I was so uptight and tired; I had two little cakes and an iced lolly. Tsk! Then tried to upload the photos again… Nope! Hopefully, they’ll get into tomorrow’s blog; of course, I’ll have forgotten where, why, and when most of them were taken.

Carer Valerie arrived as I washed the pots, cups, and plastic plates. Hehe! Had a mini-natter, but it was hard work with my eyes and ears so bad. She was treated to nibbles of her choice, and off she went with my thanks.

Had a wash and got stripped off and onto the second-hand, £300, charity shop-bought, gungy beige coloured, not-working, c1968 recliner, in search of sleep.

But, would it come? No! Despite my body ‘leaving much to be desired,’ mind telling me I needed to sleep! It was not to be! Even the trick of putting on the TV, which usually assures me of nodding off during the advert break, failed to help. I did have a couple of dropping-off’s, but they were only for a few seconds, followed by disturbing jumps awake to find myself talking? I can’t say that I’ve noticed that before?

After the last of the springing awakes and mutterings, I noticed that the news was showing on the telly. The eleven o’clock news, and thought, well, I’ll watch this. And Zzzz!

Inchcock Today: Rescued Photographs and Diary

RESCUED PHOTOGRAPHICALISATIONS

Ode to the last few days… It’s been a struggle!

Worra job, fighting the SD card reader, t’was pathetic!
Four days of failing, it was terribly acrostic…
Three or six times a day, I tried and was feeling threnetic,
The neighbour was noisy; I resisted any rhetoric,
Cause I could have hit him with my mashie-niblick!
But at least his noise today is only sporadic.

I know that I’m uneducated, got dementia, and am thick…
But repeated failings to get the piccies on… I felt sick…
Got some of them on today, and then I felt fantastic…
But once out of five days? Proves I’m no clever dick…
But my moods are temporary, changing, erratic…
I can be depressed, then minutes later, charismatic?

Sometimes, well, rarely, I can believe I’m being realistic…
But then consider myself unreliable and eccentric…
Other times concentration can be enjoyed, therapeutic…
But it’s only me being toying with hopes, being simplistic.
Hopes for improvement in mental health and lethargic,
Ever new problems with neurotransmitters and neuralgic.

I don’t expect that life’s ailments or mental logic,
A problem is I’m my own worst critic,
To expect to get back to normal is unrealistic…
I anticipate daily pains and struggles… am I masochistic?
That’s not the word I mean; I do feel a dick…
I somehow cope well with pain that’s chronic?

But not with Peripheral Neuropathy, or owt anapeiratic,
I manage with being deaf and arthritic,
Not Doreen Dementia, who denies anything copacetic…
I try not to get depressed or apathetic,
I can often laugh it off, then I find it all too dramatic,
I cannot cope; I find it all too frantic!

Having got rid of the depressive rot, onward…

Not sure what day this blood test was done, but I’ll hazard a guess on Saturday. To think, a couple of days earlier, the SYS was 208! Noe down to the second-lowest ever! Hehe! I’m not complaining, mind you.

And the body temperature, well, another fantastic result. Almost spot on the target figure (NHS) of 35°c!

I can remember taking this temperature, although not the day – because I dropped the thermometer, bent down to retrieve it, and clouted my head against the corner of the chair. And knocked the camera off of the table, and it would not work for a day or so, Tsk!

This I recognise quickly enough, along with the error I made doing it…

I’d made the nosh for Josie, as usual on a Sunday. Got it just right tastewise, and delivered it to her door at the agreed time of midday, feeling rather smug, with her treats for the weekend on the tray. Josie said nothing out of the usual. But I did an odd look from the gal… had I done something wrong? Mmm!

When I got back to my flat to start my dinner, it came to me… It was Saturday! Not Sunday! I felt such a berk!

I got my fodder served up. Vegetable pastie. Green and black grapes, garden peas, baked potatoes, lemon yoghourt. It was lovely. I granted the meal a taste-Rating of 8/10.

I’ve no idea why I took the picture whatsoever? I think it was on Saturday that I was having problems with the computer, other than the usual regular temper and sanity-testing card reader.

This night (Saturday maybe), the sky seemed a smidge misty with it during the sunsetting process.

I stayed up late to catch it and took these two relatively poor photographicalisations from the kitchen windows.

Saturday night, I think, possibly, mayhaps, if not, then Sunday…

I had a bad bleed from Little Inchies Fungal lesion.

Sunday, I think these results are from. And a fine set of figures they were. Sys 144, DIA 54 (A little low, maybe, but no worries about this), the pulse showed 83.

Well, blow me down, another good reading from my Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. Dang, close to perfect for the third day!

Ah, my beloved puffer clouds were up in the sky for me to picture them. I recall taking these pictures and suddenly needing the Porcelain Throne, so off I trotted without any delay…

I was sitting on that plastic seat in there for over 25 minutes! I also took a Codeine afterwards to ease the sore bum from the concrete torpedo; I’d just grindingly released with a Clonk of a noise when it landed in the bowl! Constipation Conrad had won the competition against his competitor Trotsky Terence by several lengths. Still, I got a few clues answered in the crossword book.

Another sort of cloudy, hazy sunset that night. Of course, I have no idea what night it was, Sunday or Monday, I imagine.

Buttered tatties, tomatoes, fish fingers, fishcakes with mushy peas inside, and battered fish fingers, Birds Eye as well, and they were crap tasting! Some grapes, and I see the milk roll slices, which was excellent cause I could mask the cardboard taste of the Birds Eys battered fish fingers a little by the bread. Eurgh! The potatoes were undercooked, but they were cooked bu a grand chap (Me!) Hahaha! Flavour: 5/10.

Tuesday’s nosh, this was more like it. There are tons of garden peas, tomatoes, tattie chunks, yellow and red tomatoes, and two sizeable battered fish portions. This fish in batter tasted a lot better than the last Birds Eye ones.

Unfortunately, the rest of the meal was a disappointment, well, crap again, actually! The bananas had gone oversweet with age, the potatoes tasteless, and the peas were bitter and sour. The tomatoes were fair enough. Flavour: 5.5/10.

Wednesday: The Iceland order arrived. I was unsure what to expect after they sent me the chinks that had gone green last week. The driver took the bags through to the kitchenette for me and got his choice of cans in thanks. Three items were not available, and two substitutions, but at least they had better dates on them this week. I got the bags unloaded, doing the freezer and fridge items first.

Tried some of their veggieburgers and pies this time. Frozen, of course, and had a job to get them into the fridge and freezer. The substituted tomatoes were Italian ones, So maybe a disappointment. We’ll see. They usually are but compared to last week’s Algerian ones…

The substituted Richmond sausages, Carer Richard, can have in the morning.

Well, yet another fine set of results from the Health Checks! Sys 133, Dia 70, Pulse 69 (A smidge low again), Then I got the thermometer out.

Brilliant! Four days now since the 248 SYS reading, Yee-Haa! Anyone’s guess is how long these promising results will go on for.

Gong to get some nosh on now. Hopefully, I can make something worthwhile and tasty this time.

Got the chips in the oven. And noted the popularity of the Chestnut Way end car park – And no red-van-man is on sight. Unless he’s parked elsewhere than his favourite spot on the yellow no parking chevrons?

The evening Carer arrived, Valerie (Nibbles). Sorted the medications and took the bag to the chute on her way out.

Got the burnt chips based nosh finished and served up. Do you know, they tasted super-good and so tasty! At last, a decent rated meal. A burger on a cob, tomatoes, and garden peas. For afters, a mini strawberry cheesecake and a banana. Taste Rating: 9/10!

The Amazon ordered slippers arrived a little late on. Thanked the driver and offered his choice of canned refreshments.

I didn’t open the bag yet, I’ll do that in the morning, but I could tell I was going to be disappointed by the shape of the package. It felt more like a giant teddy bear inside than footwear. Squashed up and no doubt well-misshapen. Hey-Ho!

I was deprived of getting to sleep again, can’t blame the Thought-Storms this time – Thoughts of all kinds and types were absent! I was not depressed, just in a passive, what-the-heck mood. Although hours later, after failing to nod off, the darned Thought-Storms did kick off. The long done and gone mistakes I’d made flourished about in my head, seemingly in amazing chronological order? Around 02:20hrs, I put the TV on, a desperate measure… but it seemed to work… Until I sprang awake at 04:00hrs!

The Nottingham Lad’s True Tales of Woe

Inchcocks Selected Whoopsiedangleplops of the day

ONE

SOCK GLIDE-GLENDA

Absolutely!

This morning, I used Sock-Glide-Glenda, rather unwisely,
I felt confident and assured that I could use it injury-free!
I wanted to prove I’ve no need to be nervy…
Sure, that I had the ability, guts, and dexterity!
I thought this task to be just a formality…
Where I got this idea from also confused me!

It was going along pretty well, almost easy peasy!
But my confidence in my abilities turned into nihility…
Stepping out of frame, I lost my feelings of sensitivity,
And tumbled onto Glenda… tempting moribundity!
Scratches, bruises, welts… such a pity…
I soon lost my earlier orotundity!
I really am a liability!


Although the welt is morphing into putrefaction…
Add the bruised on the head for precision,
I came out in fair nick from this Accifauxpas action…
I’ve had no severe reaction…
It just spoils my good looks and beautification!

TWO

The Iceland Food Cometh!

No unavailable substitutes, things looked good,
The driver took the bags to the kitchen…
Thanked him, can of pop given, as I should…
The stomach wounds show no signs of blood…
I’d ordered some beef chunks, priced very good,
Went to get the fodder away as I would…
Then I saw the beef; some pieces looked like wood!
The rest were coloured red, as they should!

Above is the photo I took of one of the packs of need. Some pieces looked like cannabis colours blocks; the others looked fine. Opening up the pack, still in date, the texture of the CBD Hemp looking ones (about 30% of the contents!); was of an entirely different texture to the others? Things got me a little hot under the collar; when I checked the other two trays, they all had the Cannabis coloured chunks in them. I visited the Iceland site, and I checked the email that Iceland had sent…

I tried through the internet and found a page where they said I could email them… Fine, I thought, I’ll do that then… I’d got the details needed and went through a mammoth set of questions to finally get down to the email Iceland section at the bottom… But No! There was a list of reasons for the email, and one had to be selected. Otherwise, it didn’t let me get to the email page. Grumph!

So, I had to try the landline.

Dialled the number, and it was answered quickly… I waited… By a recorded message telling me they were experiencing a large number of calls and spent a few minutes telling me how I could contact them on the web, even recommending that I do that.

But not for long; the recorded message chappie interrupted the kip-the-sods-waiting music, which seemed like every minute. “If you want to know where your delivery is, phone…” Then next time something like – it was hard to hear him) “If you wish to question any charges… ring” – Followed by “A list on all new products re available at ……… .com” I had about ten of these interruptions.

Eventually, I got a real person to talk to. But hearing what she was saying was a nightmare! I answered all the details asked of me. I didn’t know how many pimples I had on my bottom, so I couldn’t answer that one… Hahaha! Only joking!

After only 20 minutes of the call being answered, I thanked her for her help. I’ve no idea why. I hadn’t got the foggiest notion of what was going to happen. But did catch ’email mentioned a minute before she rang off? So anticipate getting one (email) about a refund… or not, if I’ve got it wrong again…

I got this Email shortly after laundry and ironer Esther had gone. She kindly brought me the numbers to ring Amazon about the misleading information about my deliveries. Bless her.

And here we go…

Three

Amazing Amazon Cock Up

They told me as below on the tracker thingamajig. That the Galpharm Capsules would arrive on 20th – 21st April. They were delivered last Thursday 14th April). More of concern, they told me the Throw had been delivered last Saturday? I have not arrived yet! And was originally due on the 23rd of April. Confusion reigns?

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

Four

Things started well; I oiled the ears to make them less waxy,
But they were still solid; the oiling failed dismally,
I syringed in water, which worked satisfactorily…
I waited for anything happening, cynically…
The noises from the canals became sort of crackly,
I viewed the treatment as failed – somewhat sceptically!

Nasal clearing, Germoloiding, Germolening… carefully…
All going okay; I Pain Gelled my knees and ankles easily…
Got the eye drops in… well, practically… but woefully…
Some got into the eyes, but with Shaking Shaun’s ability…
I got most of it down my cheek into my mouth, literally!

Then came the Blood Pressure taking…

Then onto the sphygmomanometerisationing,
In other words, the blood pressure taking…
The results lately have been astounding…
The last eight tests, all within a high rating…
But only just, nothing worth worrying about…

Flibbledonkackles! & Spurgledamnations!

Great Balls Of Fire!

Bloody Nora, what a shock!
This made me clench my buttock!
And my bladder wanted to unlock!
Hehehe!
I’ll have to ponder and take stock?
I checked the NHS site, like a shot!

Computer on, I entered details in the NHS, BP chart…
My result was off the scale; I passed an unintentional fart,
But I felt well pretty well, as best I could tell…
Leave it; check again later? Is that smart?
Listen to some music, perhaps some musical art?
Joannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart,
He was only 39 when from this earth he did depart!
I’ll go on the NHS helpline, well, it’s a start…

This message came on the screen after I pressed the ‘Go’ button to see the graph. Automatic response, mayhaps?

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

A typical day for an old one like me… ruminations…
Frustrations, Whoopsiedangleplops, abominations,
Lack of socialisation and communications…
Accifauxpas, injury collecting, misread intonations,
The mind’s acute lack of clarity and precision!

Deafness, warping conversations,
Confirmation of hypertension…
Worries about the yobbo’s flat intrusion,
The brain is confused between reality and illusion…
A nasty, Thought-Storm invasion,

But odd things that baffled yet pleased me?
A movement in my loins, the first since 2003!
A yearning to have back my 4×4 Panda Sisley?
I wanted a pan of streaky smoked bacon, crispy…
Needing the dentist to repair my cavity…

Hate: Dementia Doreen, for causing such deficiency,
Denying my once held abilities, from logicality…
Ensuring my confidence less, and other disabilities…
My memories fade, but old ones remain: A malady?
Not knowing what time & day it is, is not an abnormality!

Failed & deferred appointments, like with the audiologist,
A Doctor who I’ve forgotten what she looks like?
The Ophthalmologist, no appointments were missed…
That’s cause I haven’t had one yet, about which I’m pissed!
Three cancellations from the phlebotomist…
Just the one from the immunopathologist,
Four from the Gerontologist, Two for the dentist…
The DVT clinic, four from the neuropathologist…
Could I get help from a psychiatrist or hypnotherapist?
A couple more to put on the cancelled list!
I must stop moaning… I must desist!

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

.

Local News Snippets: With Ode Comments, Part 11⅛th

Local News Snippets
With Ode Comments
Part 11⅛th

Nottinghamshire News

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

How many more people are the Government and Parole Boards going to get murdered? Why are the namby-pamby, battling for prisoners-rights, pathetic parole board members getting it wrong and freeing so many killers? Why do killers have so many rights? Other than to get to use the gallows, they should have none!

On March 9, 1950, a young Welshman living in London was sentenced to death for one of the worst crimes imaginable – the brutal murder of his wife and young child. After a whistle-stop trial lasting just three days, Timothy Evans was convicted and subsequently executed for the murder of his wife Beryl and 14-month-od daughter Geraldine. So, again, who was to blame?

And they do – REPEATEDLY!

Following the unmasking of Christie, a campaign led by many prominent journalists and newspapers sought to highlight what they said was a miscarriage of justice. Still, two official inquiries ordered by the Home Office found nothing wrong. The first, led by John Scott Henderson QC, upheld Evans’ conviction, concluding that Christie’s confession of murdering Beryl Evans was unreliable because it was made to support his defence that he was insane. The second, chaired by High Court judge Sir Daniel Brabin, found it was “more probable than not” that Evans murdered his wife and that he did not murder his daughter – contrary to the prosecution case in the original trial. Yet still, they get things wrong! Jailed ‘for life’ (Hahaha!), but freed to kill again: Shocking new data reveals that 149 criminals have joined the ranks of ‘double-lifers’ over the last ten years to kill again! Our legal systems gang of rich misfits are guilty themselves yet once more.

No wonder freed killers don’t target judges, lawyers or parole officers!

I wonder what would happen if they catch the scumball?
His lawyer will claim he’s going demential?
He took a pain pill once, and now he’s hooked on Ketamine Special?
His ten past convictions have only been financial?
He’s a Covid doctor and must keep his job; it’s essential?
An Auntie touched his knee; his emotions were conflictual?
He got raped by a male cat; unsure if he’s homosexual?
His teachers forced him to play football?
All he wanted was to be an intellectual?
Hit his head, twixt right and wrong are not recognisable?

Conning the judge? Easy, malleable, manageable, and manipulable!
The barrister tells him his clients’ past crimes are nullifiable…
He admits to this charge, for it is not deniable…
Really my client is the one who is pitiable…
He’s not stabbed or raped anyone for weeks; surely that’s praisable?
His motives were not malignant or questionable…
Although his actions he now finds regrettable…
Would a case of Glenfiddich 1937 be acceptable?

A potential trial in September?
Nothing about our legal system is certain,
Then October, maybe even November?
The judge has to break for tea and a frangipane,
Or not at all, unless the judge can keep sober…

And how long before this pair of shits is free again?
By the look of them, their dink must be high-octane…
They don’t look respectable or humane…
They ought to be stuck on top of a weathervane…
I’d sentence them both to an overdose of lidocaine…
I bet the soft judge sentencing, he’ll maintain…
While locked up, they cannot to innocents give pain…
They’ll be out, molesting, hurting and raping again!

An eighteen-year-old attacks five… Holy shit!
Hands and arms of officers and guards he bit?
Well, you can’t say he has no drive and spirit?
Every officer took some form of a kick or hit…
One guard thinks the lad broke a digit?
It took five of them to get him in the car, then the git…
Another officer got kicked on the chin; Gawdamit!
I hope the police carried a haematocrit!

Good heavens, what next! The Black Death?

A fifteen-year sentence?
With an 8-year extended licence?
Eh! What’s all this nonsense?
Chicanery or maybe ambivalence?
Hope it’s not the judges’ munificence?
I looked it up; it proves this judge has sentience!
The additional term in the nick… With I hope, quiescence!
To keep people safe from his concupiscence!
Fancy a judge showing some prospicience!

Looks decent to me?

Well, dang my eye, a conflicting report?
The changing figures seem a little distort…
One set gives fears, the other one comfort?
Still, I’m going to get myself all fraught…
I’ll chew on my bar of strawberry noughat!

What a dodgy looking set of villains!

Elizabeth Dodds, prosecuting, said the steroids, a class C drug, were worth between £90 and £120 on the outside, but in jail, the value increased tenfold up to £1,200. When questioned, Kirkland – who has 139 offences to her name, mainly for shoplifting – announced: “It was just tobacco.” Hahaha!

Alternative accommodation to be found?
Somewhere mayhaps snowbound or icebound?
Somewhere suitable six-foot underground?
Where food has to be begged for or scrounged?
Where freedom again will never be tasted or found!

Well, I’m back to my usual on the find three-houses competition,
Not that this encourages any mardiness or derision!
I never expected to win, although that would be a sensation!
If I was to win anything, I’d lose my identification…
As the unluckiest person in the world, in any Nation…
I’ve not won owt for donkey years; I’ve lost the motivation!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Late Snippet

13 and 12 months. Do they look like they’re bothered? No wonder I have no faith in the future. There will be more and more violence – and fewer and fewer deterrents.

The End Is Nigh!

Ah, well! I’d berra get summat to eat then.

Inchcock Today: Tues 5th April 2022 – Introductory Ode!

Inchcock Today

Introductory Ode!

All Inchies’ plans, hopes, desires get obliterable,
All of the wishes and prayers fade; it’s unfixable…
In a crowd, he’s always the one that’s unnoticeable,
Thought-Storms, wild ideas become pestilential…
His handwriting is now virtually untranslatable,
Voices, alarms, so many to Inchie are unhearable,
Problems are increasing… not many are solvable,
Friendships, chinwags are all uncultivatable,
As seeing lip-reading with Cataracts is not doable…
Vascular Dementia Doreen has ruined the potential…
To do anything that is enjoyable or cherishable!

Inchie should get a medal for being so confusable…
He’s given up socialising, he’s no longer compatible,
Inchies depressions are no longer confineable,
Hell, they are not even logical or describable…
He tries to talk seriously, his views are uninfluential,
Inchies common sense is turning surreal,
His neurotransmitters are no longer connectable…
To the brain; so too falls and shakes he is liable…
But hopes of a cure are almost non-existent… Sniffle!

Yet he can have hopes, some of them substantial,
But why he bothers is just unanswerable…
Will he feel better when his eyes are done; its arguable,
Cataracts, Glaucoma Saccades, are treatable…
But will Inchy love long enough? Life’s a raffle…
For 25 years now, he’s been totally tea-total,
He never thought he’d persist and be capable,
See? Summat he got right is detectable!

On past City & QMC visits, he became reflectable,
Hoping those he awaits will not be fatal…
He’s waiting on dates of five procedures at the hospital,
Will soon come about and be arrangeable,
But he’s not too hopeful and not getting flappable…
He’s more worried about the logistics; will he be able…
Which can do him no good and be detrimental…
That’s another thing he needs, treatment dental!

He fears arranging things transportational…
A carer to stay with him, which’d be pleasurable,
After the 3 procedures, stay for 24hrs – is this possible?
What’s the procedure: is it cost credible?
I don’t know why I wrote this; it’s grammatically unpublishable?

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

Tues 5th April 2022

03:30hrs: The now, usual for the last four mornings anyway, jumping awake to the tormenting sounds of the Thought-Storms, driving me into instant confusion, began.

I reckon the storm lasted for about three minutes, then faded fast. No idea why, but happy about it!

Even getting out of the c1966 recliner and up to catch my balance was easy-peasy! Three-limps with Metal Mickey to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) and took another reluctant wee-wee. Without any PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling. Things looked hopeful to me for a better day in the offing? Until…

I soon learnt that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete had replaced the Thought-Storm as the primary ailment. Although, right Cartilage Cathy was assisting in making hobbling a smidge difficult. But I’m not complaining; this knee pain and wobbling leg were a pleasure to put up with compared to yesterday morning’s Dracula Depression. Yes, I was feeling much better already!

Emptied, cleaned and disinfected the bucket and had a wash of sorts. Then, returned the NWWB to its handily placed position. Just in case things change with the bladder, off to the kitchen.

The view from the kitchenette window was very similar to yesterday’s beautiful picture.

I took this photograph. Even if it looked like yesterday.

As I opened the window, the wind caught me out. I moved a little with the camera and knocked over the knife block! I managed to catch it without any harm or injury, and only one knife fell out of the block! I was trying not to get into a Smug-Mode, as history has taught me that doing that can prove almost fatal! At minimal a foretaster of something else going wrong, at least! I made up two waste bags and placed them near the door. Got the kettle on and made a brew of JS Extra Strong tea. And off to get the computer going.

I kept getting messages telling me to put a disc in the F: drive, which had been there all along. The SD card reader refused to react again. So I left the card in to see if it would later on. I occasionally responded by giving the SD card a soft jingle – but it made no difference. Hey-ho!

Carer Richard arrived. He soon got me sorted with the medications, alarm-alert battery checks and looked at the supply of drugs in the drawer. He had to shoot off. He gave me a bit of a natter, though, bless him. He didn’t look too good this morning. Hope he’s going to be alright.

After updating yesterday’s blog for a while, I made another brew. Glengettie this time, and I tried the new ‘Just Milk’ in it again.

I’ve no idea if anything in it is different to normal semi-skimmed milk; the writing is too tiny for Cataract Kathleen to make it out. But I have to say that it lets the flavour of the tea come through without masking it, better than any other milk I’ve tried. As I got back to updating the blog…

The need for the Porcelain Throne interrupted me. As I casually got up and grabbed Metal-Mickey, the urgency of the need snowballed, and it ended up with just making it in time, after a panic, rush and quick hobble! Hahaha!

Not exactly as smooth as silk, and it was accompanied by different pains areas this time, despite the evacuation being semi-soft. All over in about a minute! No bleeding, stinging or hurting from Harold’s Haemorrhoids either. As I was cleaning up after the event. I realised that it may well be my having a second vegetable meal in three days that made things uncomfortable and nearly caught me out? Back to chips and a pastie with tomatoes tonight!

Made another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. Oh, I am spoilt for choices with great tasting teas! My best four are, from the top: Glengettie, Thompsons Punjana, Co-op 99 and JS Extra Strong Brown Label. But there is little between them. All great!

Made a restart on the updating of yesterday’s blog. At long last, I got it done and posted it off to WordPress.

Sphygmomanometerisationing began. The Boots machine returned slightly better figures this morning. The SYS has gone down from 169, 161, 159 and now to 157. My blood pressure is going in the right direction! And the body temperature is so very nearly on target again, at 34.8°c. Good!

Back to the wet room, no waiting this time, first songs and I was off. Hehe! Bubbly is one word to describe the evacuation this time. Almost frothy? Not a lot, no bleeding and no pain!

I replied to some Emails… well, the one. Hehe! I did some Facebooking catch-up. Starting the WP Reader viewing and…

Mr Nice, from the flat above, launched into some clanging about.

I spent a long time trying to get this post started. The concentration did a runner, and so many mistakes were made and had to be found and corrected. I imagine I’ve missed some; there were that many! The top Ode cost me a few hours of disheartening faffling about.

It was well into the afternoon when I got up to here with the scripturising. I like that word; I expected Grammarly to tell me it was spelt wrong. Oh, sod it, it just told me belatedly!

Better get some nosh sorted out then.

Took a photo of the Chestnut Way end car park. Just to see how red-van-man had parked.

Even with the Cataracts, it caught my eye that the popularity of car colours on the front spaces. Grey, black and white seems to be in fashion here at the towers. Disabled ones, perhaps?

I got the nosh all sorted out. Fishcakes with mushy peas in them, imitation fish sticks, tomatoes and some reasonably decent chips. Dessert and milk roll bread. Rating: 7/10.

Fell asleep watching something or other on the TV. Two hours or so later, ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chirped from the door chime, and the evening carer arrived. An obviously experienced young chap, not seen him before. Good at the job, sorted the medications and came up with a solution to dropping the tablets and regurgitating without noticing. The Carer suggested taking them one at a time. Good idea, I’ll try that! Thanked him, and off he went.

As I checked around to make sure no taps or lights had been left on and all was safe – I saw the view from the kitchenette window. It was beautiful; I got the Canon and took this photo.

Then, a programme, well, two consecutive ones, were shown on the same channel. I fancied watching them both and got myself settled with a bottle of spring water, the wee-wee bucket nearby, feet up on the chair in readiness to enjoy them. I fell asleep at the first set of adverts and woke up two hours later to catch the finishing credits for the second documentary! Hey-Ho!

Inchcock Today: Wed-Thur 30-31st March 2022

Wednesday 30th March 2022

Morning Thoughts Ode

A difficult day to navigate…
Thoughts, intentions I miscalibrate,
Mind-freezers and blanks dominate!
Confusion, memory-blanks delay…
Getting things done in a logical way…
Clear thinking, I was refused…
All day long, I felt I was reclused…
Not to mention mightily confused!

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

05:30hrs: I stirred back into the sad world of a lonely consciousness. Dispirited, low, not fully-with-it. My thoughts were vague, ambiguous even to me, and I thought them! Hehehe! This weird feeling of solitariness must have come for a reason? Mayhaps I’d had a dream of some sort?

Hello, Mr Nice from above has started early this morning. I reckon it is something heavy he’s making today. I hope he doesn’t hurt himself too much. Ahem! Cause the clunks and thuds were louder, a lot of drilling noises followed along with the usual tap-tapping and odd thunderclap clunk, here and there later on.

Hahahahahahaha!

Carer Richard arrived. While he was doing my medications, the intercom burst forth and flashed. Thanks, Dementia Doreen! It was a J Sainsbury’s order that I thought was coming on Thursday? Hmm?

No bread was delivered, but as they pointed out, I requested no substitute. Like last time, they’d sent me potato pancakes in place of bread?

Two short date products as described on the right. The fishcakes were with use by today’s date! The salad was by tomorrow. As they say in their advert: Sainsbury’s: Helping everyone Eat better?

However, they did express that they hope I’ll be completely happy with my order, and I can return anything I’m not happy with, and I’ll get a refund within five working days! And Sainsbury’s is owned by Royalty, you know. It shows, dunnit?

Carer Richard took the boxes through into the kitchen, and I got them stored away. He also checked the dates on the stuff in the fridge for me. Finding a few items out of date, Ahem!

Richard departed, leaving a confused Inchcock, Perplexed;  ① as to how he thought they coming tomorrow, not today? ② How they could send something with a sell-by date of the same day? ③ The cream cakes were mashed up together in the box! ④ And the daffodils (Jenny and Francis treats) had petals knocked off of them! ⑤ And why had Little Inchies fungal lesion suddenly started spouting blood?

Med Hydr Off to the wet room and dug out the new ointment. This took a lot longer than expected. Cleaning things up and applying the cream was its usual painful experience. And by the time I’d finished, got new PPs on and dressed, Dizzy Dennis had joined me, and my vision was blurred for some reason?

So, I did the blood pressure to see if anything was out of sync. Well, the blood pressure was acceptable. The Pulse was a smidge high, but only a tiny bit so. The body temperature was lowish, 35°c is my target, and it was 33.7°c. Again, it was so low as to cause concern. I thought about it; what had caused this funny spell? Then gave up.

I spent hours and hours blogging, almost automatically, and now have many memory blanks. Reading my scribbled remember-it notes on the pad was impossible for hours, and I did start to get a little worried then.

I found myself sitting on the £300, c1968, second-hand, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, not working recliner, with the TV on? No idea? What happened during the intervening hours…

Initially, I panicked a bit, and got up, grabbed Metal Micky, and started having a search around Sherlockian style. Worried that any heat, taps (faucets), stove hobs or oven had been left on.

After a limp around, I found everything as it should be! There were no running taps, lights or heaters left on, windows closed, the cooker was cold all over to the touch, and the fridge-freezer doors shut. Plus, I was feeling a lot better in myself physically. Dizzy Dennis had departed, and my vision seemed to be normal again??? As normal as one can expect, with having cataracts, glaucoma and saccades. Even the kettles were both stone cold… that must be a first for me. I almost felt contended.

I was still mystified about where the hours had gone and what I had been doing… sleeping? Little Inchie was checked; all well, no bleeding now.

I felt hunger pangs brewing up. So off to the kitchenette and started on a had a cooking session. Noticing the beautiful evening, I got the Canon and took to picture of the blue hue of the evening.

It was turning dark quickly tonight. Ten minutes after taking the first shot, I took this second picture of the same scene.

Then I got the meal onto the plate and put the used oven tray and saucepan in the sink to soak while I ate the dinner…

I turned to put the saucepan on the draining board and gave myself one hell of toe-stubbing on the wheel of the server trolley! My language was a smidgeon blue and self derogatory in nature!

Then I missed the edge of the draining board with the saucepan, which now has a deep custom-designed dent it, as it fell off and landed right on the recently stubbed toe!

But I curbed my histrionics as the evening carer arrived. The Carer soon sorted the medications out in double time, I thanked her, and I got back and settled with the meal tray on my knee dining, and turned on the TV to watch the end of a ‘Heartbeat’ episode… regretfully, I managed neither of the planned activities!

Well, there was a single item on the J Sainsbury delivered fodder that was edible, really… Sorry, but it’s true! The cheese curls were really rock-hard outside and soft inside. The potatoes cakes had not an ounce of ant flavour or taste? The cobs were like cardboard. The fresh peas were bitter! A flavour Rating of 1/10! That was for the tasty lemon and lime cheesecake. Note To Self: Stop buying cheese curls, potato cakes, cobs, and fresh peas from J Sainsbury’s! The waste bin for 95% of that meal.

From then on, there is no sound memory of what happened. I think I slipped into sleep at about 22:00hrs and slept through until 05:40hrs… at least that’s when I woke up.


Thursday 31st March 2022

Morning Thoughts Ode

A day that I anticipate,
There will be love & hate…
But neither of them will be very great…
I’ll try to not let today aggravate,
Good and evil will alternate,
Good fortune, I’ll not wait…
Thought-Storms to circumnavigate,
Worries and fears to collate…
Naturally, I’ll remain celibate,
Sanity, hopes, health to connotate…
Daily tasks I’ll try to coordinate,
As soon as I find the time and date…
Confusion’s just an everyday trait,
Mind-blanks, make me feel desperate,
Dizzy spells, none for a while, but I await…
Saccades, Cataracts Glaucoma, eyes dilate…
My vision and hearing began to absquatulate!
At least I haven’t started to hallucinate…
Note to self: Just give it time, mate…

05:40hrs: I blinked myself awake and waited for the eyesight to clear. And realised how good I felt this morning. Well, as good as I could manage. The brain fogginess and dizzies had departed! Yee-Ha! I’d had a decent kip for once and was with it more today. How long for, I didn’t want to go into!

I decided to make use of this moment, and I rose, caught my balance, and had a hobble with Metal Micky to the wet room to get the ablutions done. I managed to get a few nicks and cuts shaving in my over-confidence, nothing serious.

The toe from last night’s stubbing and falling saucepan landing on it had left me with a new limping style. Hahaha! Yet I still gave myself a toe-stubbing on the same digit as I left the wet room, against the doorframe edge. Humph! But it was not a bad one. I got dressed, put the kettle on, and had to go back to the wet room to visit and utilise the Porcelain Throne.

CW02 No doubt about it, Constipation Conrad was in full charge of the operation this morning! It was a long time before any activity started, and when it did, an awfully long and painful input from me was needed to literally force things out! So, I had a go at the crosswording, the old book.

I was running out of time to get things done on this blog, so something had to curtail things of detail. Everything takes so much longer, ever-increasingly longer, to do with the computer. Problems with the computer, Liberty-Global Virgin Media internet going down so often, the eyes and Neuropathy Pete… now the mind-blanks making it so difficult to get anything done. And always missing errors and mistakes… Sorry.

Went to make a brew of Glengettie tea in the kitchen.

Took this photo and added the ghost skull in the window for a bit of fun later. Hahaha!

Oh, my Jimminee, what a high SYS and low Pulse I’ve got this morning. Not that I’m surprised, I sort of expected it.

But at least the body temperature was a little higher this morning, close to its official target of 35°c for once.

I heard the wind blowing outside, which goes to show how strong it must have been for me to hear it.

I had a peep out of the balcony window, and blooming heck, it was snowing. Fine thin flakes, but large ones.

I took another photo to the right, of the end car park.

Rather comforting to see red-van-man back parked on the yellow no-parking chevrons.

Took a photo (All of these were taken through the glass... too cold to stick my head outside and get the flat filled with snowflakes). Hahaha! Of the front car park on Chestnut Walk.

Snowflake was my nickname in the Meadows boxing club. I’m not sure why I bothered mentioning that?

Then a shot that showed nothing through the left-hand window in the balcony.

I went back to the computer, finished the Snippets blog, and posted it to WordPress. It was a challenging, mistake-ridden, sanity-testing affair as  I got angrier with myself for my many stupid mistakes,

The snowing stopped, leaving a thin coating that gave the bottom field an eerie look, especially for April! (Nearly) Haha!

I got the daffodils and took them first to Francis. What a farce it was as well. Got to the elevators and had a while to wait to get one. Down to the eighth floor, and as the door opened, Francis was waiting to get in, to go out. I gave her the bag with flowers and some nibbles and got out to allow Francis and a bloke to get it, so they would not be delayed and possibly miss the bus. I waited for the next lift to go back up to the ninth floor and Jenny’s.

Three times the cage arrived, but always on the way down. It would have been quicker to have gone down and come back up again. Haha! Dropped off the bag at Jenny and Franks, left some drinkies with them for Frank and Doris. ♥

Back to the flat, and the weather looked slightly different when I got in. The wind seemed to have dropped, and the snow had melted away into the earth and ether.

I opened the window and am sure I could smell petrichor as if it had been raining?

I made an order for Iceland for the following Monday. I made sure I kept to the minimum order – but of course, knowing Iceland, there will be substitutes and out-of-stock items every week. Which nay make the order under the minimum, and cost me delivery charges.

After an hour or so of computing, well, I say computing? It was more like making errors, forgetting details, getting things wrong, hitting the wrong buttons, and getting even more wee’d off! The weather changed again.

Made a start on this blog at long last. I got carried away on WordHippo, updating my words to use list… Suddenly, my mind was full of Cognitive biases and guilt. Why?

: I have what I can only call a mind-blank. After hours of sorting out the new list, I closed the notepad without saving it, and I lost the lot! I’ll not repeat my thoughts on this.

Humph! I went to make another brew. I took another wee-wee… they have been persistent again today, even though I’ve cut down on my Glengettie drinking a lot today. No, honestly!

The skies had altered again and were blue with almost white small puffer clouds.

Bootiful sky! It’s been a changeable day.

Waiting for the kettle to boil, I took a clearer photo of the Chestnut Way end car park and red-van-mans parking. Well, he’s pretty consistent; you have to give him credit!

He’s been consistent today; although I’m worried about him now, he’s gone all quiet? Maybe he’s gone to an AA meeting? Or a Masonsonic Lodge meeting? Mafia get together? Or he is having a chat with Putin?

Well, I found I’d had three official-looking letters had been delivered. These make me nervous, you know. They always require me to make phone calls without considering my deafness or Doreen’s Dementia. Nottingham City Homes, Pegasus Police and Queens Medical Centre Eye clinic – Re Cataracts assessment! Two appointments for 3rd May! Now I’ll have to find out where and how to get there. But I was generally cheered by the news.

The Nottingham City Homes was about the rent payments.

I took a half-decent shot from the kitchen window. Showing the further change in the weather… it looked so pretty now.

Being perked up a bit with the news from the hospital seemed to inspire my taste buds. So I decided, after yesterday’s pathetic meal, to make sure this would be a good one! And it was, too!

The extra crispy chips were marvellous, sprinkled with spirit vinegar and Worcester sauce. But, nothing would make the last of the fresh garden peas taste any good, but I did add a bit of sugar while cooking them – it didn’t so much. The tomatoes went down okay. Each round of the cheapo beef slices was eaten within a portion of milk roll bread. I was so keen on consuming the unostentatious meal I forgot to photograph it. So I did part-way through eating it. Oh, I did enjoy it! Flavour Rating: 8/10; I’d have given it a higher score, but for the crap tasting Kenyan peas.

Doing the washing up, I was belching with delight. Haha!

I got the camera and took these photographicalisations of the eerie but fantastic night’s view.

Made up a bottle of spring water, added a drop of orange cordial to it, and whistled to myself; as I checked on the taps (faucets), I was tickled with the actioning of help with the cataracts. Albeit not for a few weeks yet. Checked the electrics and wet room. Then, I meandered almost casually with Metal-Mickey, to the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner. My intentions were to get in with Sweet Morpheus as soon as possible…

I should have known better. The Thought-Storms erupted. They gorgonised my tired brain, tormented, teased and put me in an uneasy state of mind. I had no idea when they relaxed their onslaught, but it was gone 23:00hrs cause I put the TV on then, hoping it would help me drift off… Humph!

Have a great day, Folks!

Inchcock Today: Belated Photos, Comments quips and an Ode or two

Goodeth Morningski!

A nosh from earlier in’t week…

Odd sunsetting photographs.

Van Parking Expert!

White Van man’s excellent Parking!
Within the white lines marking!
No exit-ingress blocking!
No chance of any grid-locking,
Straight as a die, amazing…!
Very RVM (red-van-man) irking!

Blood pressure reading was more controlled,
Sys 150, Dia 71… But the pulse at 90, high-fold?
I’ll check on the web… NHS say 90 is Gold!
So today, BP returns deserve to be extolled!

The body temperature was not so good…
34.4°c, not as high as it should…
Little Inchies fungal-lesion is losing blood!
But things may get better; yes, they should…
But of that, there’s little likelihood!

Blood-Taking Dressing Removed

I thought the drops of blood on the cotton wool had created a humorous face pattern. I took this snap of it. Hehehe! There is rarely any bleeding after the magnificent, caring Nurse Hristina comes to do the blood-taking job, bless her. 💖

This is something that I look forward to!

I’m Beginning to Master the Whistling Kettle!

This morning, I even heard it!

I’ve located the inside of the fill-level marking…
Changing to reading glasses first…
If I use a torch, so I can see the etching…
So underfill it, so I can quench my thirst,
Then it gets louder… the whistling!
Trapping the finger closing the lid is worst!

Tuesday Evenings Meal

.

A treat of healthy foods tickled many a tastebud!
Fishcakes and cheesy potato cakes went down a treat!
Smoked haddock in some, cheese too, t’was alreet!
Mushy pea topping in the cakes…
Fishless fish-sticks to complete…
But I didn’t have a pud!
The meal I ate and felt replete!

Changing the bag in the kitchen bin,
Gawd strewth… what was I seeing?
Argh! An Evil Ironclad boll weevil biting beetle?
Have they returned again – bringing their teeth so evil?

I went into a Sherlockian mode, sort of preautopsy…
I got the beast out of the bin, then had a wee-wee…
So glad it was all black, due to my achromatopsy,
It was a biting boll weevil – Whoopsiedangleplopski
Seeing just the one, enough to bring on catalepsy!
A good search around, I could see no more – Whoopee!

Evening Sunset Today

The sky went from grey to this colour within a couple of minutes.

But stayed that hue for only ten minutes?

Finally, a further tribute…

Puckin Chairing a Meeting

This photo really scares me! They’re his advisors too!

Inchcock Today: Ode to Ageing Confusions – Part 1⅔rds Ending with Inchies Forecast for the World!

The Birthing of Inchcock

It had to come, he was welcomed unappreciatively,
By his Park Drive smoking mummy…
She dropped her fag ash all over Inchies tummy…
Sneered and told the Midwife, Emily…
“Don’t want it; throw it in the Trent straight away!”

Not the most pleasant welcoming lambing…
Midwife Emily, years later, fact confirming!
I asked Mother if it were true, her replying…
“Yea, but for a less than 3lb lump birthing…”
“You caused me a lot of hurting!”…
Then she started absconding… the police pursuing!

Schooling

The worst of all up then his schooling,
Him being so thick, no real educationing,
Each school day is dedicated to just surviving…
Avoiding teachers’ attention advancing,
Avoiding his touching and clutching…
And the gangs beating and bashings!

Working For a Living

Dad got him a job, morning newspaper delivering…
Then more rounds, Sundays and evenings…
Now he was more confused, earning a living,
At fourteen, he began his first proper working…
He did his best, never any shirking!

He wishes he’d been clever enough for apprenticing…
But he wasn’t, and this is no bullshitting…
16 now, interest grew in his ding-a-ling…
Joan, her name, a pretty little thing…
Who claimed she was about to be birthing…
At first, Inchcock thought of bragging…

He discovered that Joan did female wrestling…
While he wrote crap poems, wordsmithing…
T’was found that Joan had been lying…
She was not about to be multiplying!
For Inchy, there’ll be no betrothing!

Times, Depressing…

Memories of his failure, he keeps unearthing,
It’s himself his is mentally badmouthing,
He realised he was unlucky when around forty…
He’s grown old early, was getting more portly…
Depression grew worse shortly…

He needed mental stimulus strengthening…
He’s still not had any at seventysomething…
He’d hoped for better luck but didn’t win a farthing!
Did the lottery for many years, never won anything…
Won the pools one week, though, amazing!

Not a lot, hardly enough for bequeathing,
2/6d – (12½p) winnings he would be receiving,
His pools plan cost him 75p (15/-d), always losing!
And wrong choices and options choosing!
His life is forever error and mistakes replenishing!

Whoopsiedangleplops Acceptance!

Now, he sees that his life is like thirst-quenching,
Sanity-saving drinks have never been emerging!
Only his Thought-Storms will get any turbocharging…
His ever further ageing ailments, always twinging…
His mental stability… well, that’s beyond salvaging,
Sadly, due to his own misjudging and mismanaging!

Of course, he wished Dementia Doreen would go away…
But most clearly, she is with him every single day…
No matter Inchie, may hope, plead and may pray!
He’s bald nowadays, so worries not about going grey…
His memory and brain working more absentmindedly!

Physical Problems

Cataract Kathleen is his ailment most vexing…
The earholes are second, the wax is grid-locking,
The diminishing hearing is quite shocking!
Neuropathy Pete has his leg and handshaking!
Inchie still hits doors when through them he’s walking!

Things Wot Inchie Can No Longer do…

Here, he lists the things he’s never been found doing…
At least for a few years, there’s been no canoodling!
Surprisingly he misses doing his cobbling,
Resting, relaxing, unwinding, or chilling!
He can’t even manage to do the kettle descaling!

Incapable now, of drooling, duelling, hoping, driving…
Coping with problems or their abnegating…
Ballooning, javelining, footballing,
But: he’s excellent at frowning and bumfuzzling!
And bad odeing, and body-fattening!
And he’s the perfect mind & body for malfunctioning!

The Future?

Inchies Forecast for the World!

Ah, the future, to Inchie, it’s not very enticing…
For him, just the usual mistake-making and doddering!
More Thought-Storms, memorise of failings, so agonising,
He’d like to undergo a brain reinstalling…
Impossible, of course, that’s Dementia Doreen lurking?

After a life of ever belittling,
Now he’s ever bungling…
Tripping, stumbling or falling…
On a bad day, you’ll find him burbling…
A good day, he might be yodelling!

But good rays are rare…
Hardly ever, to be fair…
Maybe a decent minute or two here and there?
You can see why the old man’s in despair?
For company, he even welcomes the dentists’ chair!

He’s always on a downer; at least he’s consistent?
Yet a good chinwag and laugh, he is not resistant?
But he feels so sorry for those whose lives are distant…
The whippersnapping youngsters, not the convalescent…
What does the future hold for them? No contentment?
Wars, violent crime, people becoming intolerant…
Gangsters, politicians, getting more fiscally corpulent…
Fracking, rainforest destruction, morals corrodent!
Worries, price rises give fears, making folk crapulent,
Which uses up their funds quicker; it’s totipotent!
Putin may yet change God’s design, the rodent!
Proving the turd is untouchable, cunctipotent!

Why does Putin attack with impunity?
Proving to the world his inhumanity?
If also, his degree of egocentricity?
If we interfere, we’ll lose our power, electricity?
Proving our powerlessness and ignominy!

Putin

He does not look it; he’s showing serenity?
He claims to have compassion and benignity…
Or is that look, snottiness and solemnity?
Indeed no caring, just in hatred in the vicinity!
As he kills without care and utter impunity!

The West’s response shows no dignity…
Scared to death, showing nothing, of authenticity,
But what can we do with a man of such insanity?
His inhumanity is of outstanding durability…
Stop him? We do not have the ability!

From being attacked himself, he has autoimmunity…
Cause the West doesn’t have the guts or edacity…
We have our own failings, our own disunity…
This war has no opportunity of curability…
And that brings out amongst many detestability!

Ukrainian Spirit?

What a man, President and Ukrainian!

Once Putin wins, it will be more challenging than he thinks,
May the West challenge him to a game of tiddleywinks?
Volodymyr Zekenskyy, the man who doesn’t shrink!
Who compared to Pucking Putin, the far better man, I think!

Inchcocks first solo visit to the Slab Square: In 1955

Inchcock then & now Haha!

Despite the poverty, I was at my happiest…
In my younger years, and almost positive!
Full of vigour and at my determinest…
I set out one Sunday to slab Square, looking my nattiest!
First time alone on a trolleybus, at my swankiest!

43 Trolleybus in town

The bus ticket cost all of 3d,
Today that would be about ½ a new penny,
I wanted to get a Sunday paper, you see…
Take it to Dad; make him proud of me!
But the newsvendor asked, where’s your Daddy?
I didn’t realise he knew my Dad, Harry!
He told me to take myself home and hurry!
But he did give me a newspaper for Dad, for free!

West Bridgford (WBUDC) bus

So, I did, on a posh, pretty coloured WBUDC,
West Bridgford Urban District Council, you see?
We didn’t argue with adults back then, tactfully…
Agreeing with grown-ups, had desirability…
Cause of their clipping you around the earhole, ability!

I hastened home…

I hurried home, in hope of a visit from Auntie Kerry…
She liked to bath me, which always affected my psychoactivity,
I think she had some habits, mayhaps, eccentricity?
She scrubbed me up well, with dexterity, not dignity!
I always greeted her arrival with emotional glee!
Not understandingly, but happy… and expectantly…
Knowing (praying for) what she was about to do to me! ♥
I longed for her visits, and was her greatest devotee,
And to think that people said we were an odd family? Hehe!

Well, perhaps we were…

How things change… Hehehe!

Good Morning, all!

Sunset Thoughts In Odes

“Oy, Inchie…

“Wot?”

“Wot yer doin’ then?”

“Watchin’ the sunset!”

“Wot for? It ‘appens every night, yer burke?”

“I know it does, yer grumpy git! I photograph it most nights yer know…”

“I know that I am a part of yer ain’t I?”

“Then why ask me wot I’m doing then? You drive me to my homebrew, Ooh!”

“I dunno, just to piss you off, I suppose!”

“Sarcasm from you always flows…”

“Do you know, we’re talking in prose?”

“Go on then, let’s keep it up, see how it goes?

“The Carer will be here soon, let’s see who loses the odeing, you know?

“Just look at how the dying sun still glows..”

“I bet you’d get a better pattern as a Filipino?”

“I hear out there, they drink cappuccino?”.

“Do you like Pizzas from Domino?”

“What’s that got to do with the Ode, dumbo?

“Sod-all, you’ll soon be back on the Vino…”

“You’re in a barmy-mood? Why don’t you just go?

Cause I also want to see the sun’s dying glow!”

“I’m not having that; you a naturist? No, no, no!”

“That’s not nice, do yer want your blood to flow?”

“Ah, but you can’t hurt me physically, though!”

“Not my style, but I can send you loco!”

“Ha! I’m already bonkers; you’re too slow!”

“You are a saddo, fatso, and have no gusto!”

“Go on knob-end, tell me summat I didn’t know!”

“Well, the sun’s beginning to go…!

“I wish you would go; you damage my ego!”

“Why do you have to live on the 12th-floor in Council flats? Can’t you afford a bungalow?”

“Leave me alone. You’re always digging at me; you’re making my anger grow…”

“In the flat, it must be like the Alamo! Waiting for death, in agony, another coffin-seeking Bozo!”

“The Alamo? Well, my life seems to be connected like an imbroglio…”

That much, I understand and know…

“I don’t get out much, so?”