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!
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!
Inchcock then & now Haha!
“Wot?”
A g
reat sleep once I managed to get off. Which was at about 02:00hrs. But, I was well pleased with only jump-waking up three times. On the third, it was already 06:10hrs! So, over four hours, not bad, that. I think the Hemp seems to be working.
I got the medical checks sorted straight away. The body temperature was still too low. But what should I do? It might be the machine? They tell me to ring 999 if it is below 45°c? But it’s not far off this time.
There was no hassle about the Blood Pressure, though, all looking pretty good, with SIA 152. DIA 74. and Pulse at 80. This seemed fair to me. Glad the BP machine was working after my dropping it yesterday.
Into the kitchenette to put the kettle on, and I trod on something small and challenging – I guessed right, it was an escaped garden pea gone rock hard. Hehe! Made me jump a bit! I also found a tablet?
The intercom rang at 06:30hrs, and the Ocado driver brought the bags up to the flat. Nice chap.
Sorted out what’s what and where they are to go. The frozen Heinz Beanz Burgers went in the freezer, along with the battered cod bites and fishcakes with mushy peas in them. Natoora black tomatoes, 
yellow tomatoes, steak pie into the fridge, with some difficulty… Cartilage Cathy was in a right rotten mood with me when I bent to get the bottom tray filled. Cor, blimey, was she! But the bending to pick up the peas and pill might have contributed to Cartilage Cathy’s annoyance. Hehe!
Then I moved on to the third or fourth bag. The black box held 12 mini-pots of M&S fruit and jelly. Which I read when ordering to be strawberry flavoured. They had actual fruit in the jelly, but one of them was the forbidden for me pineapples. On a closer look, they also had seeds in them, which will most likely cause me a toothache. They’ll have to go! I know how to live! I made a bottle of spring water up with some of the lemon and lime cordial for later.
I got some fresh garden peas and lemon and lime yoghourts too. Two favourites there!
Just after getting them stored away and returning to the computer, Everything went wrong computer-wise. The icons had shrunk, the screen had gone darker, and Norton came up[ with things that needed attention. Crapwranglers! It was all too much for me, and I ended up changing things, uncertain if I was doing right or wrong. After changing things, it was far worse. I could have cried!
I stopped making changes too late and could not work out how to correct things. I went for a break and made a brew of Glengettie, taking this photograph of the morning view, in which I caught some crows on their way to a tree-
top murder in the park. 
Doing the updating of the blog for yesterday and got deeper into a mess of confusion with the computer for an hour or so, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang out.
I carried on with this blog. The top Ode taking me yonks to get done. I gave Cartilage Cathy another good rubbing with the Phorpain again. This is the second day of Cathy’s hassle. Never had two days’ worth before.
I managed to encourage the picture ap to recognise the photo of the end car park at last. I took it this morning around 08:00hrs or thereabouts. Only just got it on the computer. I’m having all sorts of problems with it now – a case of last legs, methinks? (Me too, Haha!)
Which, amazingly, without any interruptions, apart from needing a few leaks, I’d got done by 05:00hrs. And decided to get the ablutions sorted out before any Carer came calling.
05;10hrs: A bit of clunking from the flat above. I made my way to get the clothes and off into the wet room.
I went out to take a photo of the end car park. But got distracted… I do that a lot, you know. Bits of whatever it was were falling on my head. They were coming from the crumbling ceiling inside the balcony! A bit worrying that was! Cracking plaster and paint, and holes appearing above the sliding doorway! I must inform ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. See if she can have a decker and what she thinks about it.
Blood Pressure was down nicely, but:
I was wrapping the tubing around the casing to replace the sphygmomanometer, and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete gave me a little jerking session. The BP machine ended up 
hitting the radiator and under the desk on the floor. I got the precious picker-upperer and retrieved it. 
A more significant concern then – the body temperature was showing as 33.7°c! Well below the minimum of 35. I tried the ear thermometer, which showed up as ‘Low’. Is it me doing it wrong, machine kaputt? I just don’t know!
Not one of my better efforts, for more than one reason. Here they are: I made far too much
As I was sulking and taking the things into the kitchen to be washed, the sunset was beautiful! 
So peaceful and serene. I had to force myself to come away… although I did have some encouragement by needing yet another wee-wee. And I’d not been drinking much tea! Bootiful!
These sunset shots were, I believe, from Friday night. The first two in sequence, I have caught some Crows that had just broken up from a murder in the treetops to the right of the picture.
They were fully grown adults, judging by their sizes of them. In the second picture, I caught two of them. They were flying away from the flats at the time. I remember being surprised that I could recognise them.
The following two nights, the sunsets were hardly noticeable. But these ones, I thought, were so beautiful, even with muted colours (Is that the right word? I mean, not as vivid as it is sometimes).
I took just the higher part of the sky in the last photo, and I zoomed in an iota. The seemingly pink cloud amidst the blue-grey ones was so pretty to me. Mother Nature at her finest! ♥
Pulse at 73 looked good. The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd©, a contactless thermometer, was used to take the body temperature. 34.2°c. A bit low?
Rushing to get to the Throne, I misjudged the gap again. I walloped my right shoulder against the doorframe. There were some bits of bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Nothing too serious, though.
Expecting a messy evacuation again, I had a go at the crossword after getting seated. But didn’t have time to do many clues. The evacuation was a slow job, that needed a fair bit of pushing input from me. Not awfully painful, just uncomfortable. This I put down to Harold’s Haemorrhoids. This is a strange day!
I took a wee-wee, washed the dandies, and got the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, made by the ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd©) in Guangdong, China. The results had crept up a smidge from 
yesterday. But it is only just in the lower stages of hypertension and has been a lot higher on many occasions. Certainly not enough to destroy my strangely volatile good spirits. That has come from I know not where but is welcome.
The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, had a better reading than yesterday too! A good bit higher.
The intercom flashed and rang… and I heard in the other room. This is a strange day!
mouth. 
Got the fresh strawberries delivered as well. One each for Josie, Flora and Richard. Not sure if the ladies name is Flora, it might be Flo Francis? Anyway, she lives in flat 8. I’ll take it down for her later on. (What the heck is her name?)
Then I got Josie’s meal ready. I gave her some extras for Easter. A little egg, a chocolate bar, and her favourite can of plonk. I also handed over half of my strawberries in a separate bag.
I’ve just come to the following line in the blog reminder pad. I’m curious to know what the heck this is on the left here; it is supposed to indicate for me to remember? Looks like 3 40ging? It’s beyond me! Mind you, I’m not surprised. I can’t even see what I’m writing, let alone read or see the subtitles on the TV.
Then I found this picture I’d missed from the SD card. It is sad, innit?
My next plan… get the bangers and beans done for my nosh. I found out what I thought I’d bought, Cheese topped rolls, turned out to be Tiger rolls. That’s why they were so heavy. Humph!
I soon turned into an uglier imitation but albeit me a smaller one, a younger one, less fodder-wise, shorter, and an older one, of Gordon Ramsay. Hehe!
too much. This is good! I thought, so I pressed on conscientiously and even felt a bit proud of my efforts. Smug-Mode-Assumed. I got the last potatoes in the oven, and they were done in no time. I got them out on the chopping board added all the seasonings you can see in the photo above. Then bashed the living daylight out of potato flesh and mature, strong cheddar, adding Squid sauce (liquid salt), BBQ seasoning, spirit 
vinegar, Worcester sauce and a dirty great-chunk of butter! It took ages to get it all to mix together, I don’t know how long it took me, but I was all weary-armed by the time I got the shells back in the 
oven to brown off. Haha!
The door chime played its Oh, Susanna tune, and I anticipated Richard coming down the hallway, but whoever was buzzing did not come in
Checked on my plates and legs; they were a lot better looking than yesterday. As I was just about to start getting smug again…
The sphygmomanometerisationing showed the Blood Pressure was up a smidge, at Sys 148, Dia okay at 68, and the temperature read 86. Nowt much to worry about; I’ve had a lot higher at times.
I was soon woken up by Herbert bashing about. At this time of night, it might not be late for some, but it is me, 22:00hrs gone! The ungregarious, unamiable, unloquacious, haughty, pompous, git! Still, he soon stopped. This may have had something to do with hitting the roof with my walking stick…
Which serves me right, cause I stubbed my toe getting back in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner. Tsk!
The pots were put in the oven cooking, and I did some blogging. Then got the tubers out and sliced them. I’d got the cheese in the basin all ready with the seasonings already in it. I then took the flesh out to mix in the bowl…
Got the cheesy spuds in the tray and back into the oven. They were soon all looking good and browned off pretty well. 
I’d forgotten I’d already ordered some wine, which was delivered today with the other stuff. I can tell you now, it was for Sister Jane and hubby Pete. I’ll ring them later to say to them they can collect them.
I’m not so sure about the Iceland new Fruit & Salad desserts. In fact, I don’t recall ordering them? But, there you go.
Hello, I just had an attack from Shaking Shaun,
Josies Sunday Lunch
My Sunday Lunch
My Second Sunday Lunch!
