02:05hrs: Well that was a better nights kip, over 5½hrs! Great! I felt like I had had a good sleep, too! Yet another fantastic morning for Inchcock!
As my functions began to come into semi-life, and the brain kick-started itself, only Arthur Itis, Saccades-Sandra, and Colin Cramps seemed to be in a bad mood. Anne Gyna, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, Dizzy Dennis etc. noticeable by their absence of botherations. I think I’m getting accustomised to these Good-Luck happenings. I liked ’em!
I manoeuvred my aged, wobbly-bellied body from the £300, c1968, rickety recliner, with the aid of the four-pronged walking stick, got up like a crippled elephant onto my feet. I availed the use of the handily-place GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), a strong flow, that didn’t last long, of the SHLSDTAT; (Starting-Hosepipe-Like-Suddenly-Dying-To-A-Trickle) variety. On my way to the kitchen, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I diverted to the wet room (Limping along nicely, I might add!)
I got there in time quickly enough, and an evacuation of almost perfect conditions followed! Apart from a little discomfort from Harold’s internal Haemorrhoids. No bleeding or trickling from Harold of Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. The legs had gained some colour as well! Some new varicose and spider veins developing, methinks.
Just so’s I don’t get too excited about things, I knocked the haemorrhoid and Daktacort tubes off of the floor cabinets while getting the jammies pulled up.
With Shaking-Shoulder-Shay jerking kicked off as I left the room, but that doesn’t bother me much, and it’s usually copeable with, doesn’t hinder the typing on the computer much. See that? More good stuff. Colin-Cramps is keeping the Ailment-Mafia’s end up, mind. A regular rubbing in of Phorpain gel is helping me cope, I think.
In the kitchen, I took a shot of the morning sky; not just any shot, but the worst I’ve ever done! Humph! Yes, the neurotransmitter’s have failed again. It is impossible to stop this, but it comes and goes. It just picked the perfect time to destroy the quality of my picture! Grumpworthiness!
I got some mushrooms and leeks in the bigger crock-pot, on low heat. Made a brew, and took the medications. I added some salt, a drop of balsamic and clear distilled vinegar later on, with some caramelised gravy.
I then moved the handwashing that was hanging drying around. Got the jammie-bottoms on the wire airer, towel on the stand-up airer and moved the shirts above the heater in the kitchen. Then, I made another brew of tea, the last one had gone cold on me.
At last, I got the computer on to update the Friday blog Very late! But at least I’d got some other jobs done this morning.
I checked on the crock-pot stew first. I’m going to add some canned stewed steak in gravy to it after I get it in the saucepan on the hob later. That’s the plan anyway.
Well, the internet started off failing to save straight away, as soon as I’d written a sentence on WordPress! And I had to do three amendments due to the neurotransmitter’s nerves playing up, still. I decided to go on the TFZer Facebooking first, as nothing was needing to be saved on that, so it might prove more productive.
Well, I was wrong again! So, I went back to doing the updating of the Friday post, again! Much correctionalisationing was needed, and the internet also slowed me down, along with the neurotransmitter’s nerves. So very Agravannoying!
I popped in to check on the slow-cooker again. After yesterdays burnt offering, I was still a touch nervous of a repeat performance. No bother, though, the pots, onions and leeks were looking good and cooking rather swiftly.
Back to the computerisationing, and got the Friday diary finished, but it was well gone 06:00hrs by that time! Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating!
So, has my scintilla of good-luck come to an end? I suppose so! At this thought, I checked on the cooking again. All was okay, I transferred the food to the large saucepan, made and added son caramelised gravy to it, and stirred it in well. Then cleaned the large crock-pot and lid. They don’t half get dirty, don’t they? Took me ages and a lot of effort to get it looking something like alright!
Back on the computer, and my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-law Pete, called on the landline. Pete, the same age as wot I am, a bit older actually. Who still has his hair, is handsome. Much loved by the ladies. Is fit, capable, not lost his memory, is a mechanical and electrical genius too. The one that retired fifteen years early. Can’t blame him after his big wins on the pools then the lottery. Then, when he was left a fortune by an unknown relative. So, he invested in off-shore accounts, the stock-exchange, bought a new car and retired. Jealous? Me? We had a good chinwag, Sister Jane was dining out with her friends in Nottingham. I told him I was looking for a name to give for my Shaking Shoulder, and he suggested Shane, so it will be! Rings nicely, Shaking-Shoulder-Shane! Hehe!
We had a good gossip and laugh. But he had to go, Sister Jane was checking up on him again. Haha! Nice of him to ring, mainly to mention that I missed his birthday. I nearly told him to keep the money he stole from the flat and didn’t return while I was in the hospital from the stroke. But I didn’t. I understand getting cash out of the Scottish Widows European Back-Hander Fund is not easy!
I did some work on this blog and then went to make a fresh brew. Pete has mentioned the beautiful clouds at his posh-end of Nottingham, and I saw how picturesque they were.
I put the kettle on and went to open the unliked, unwanted, thick-framed, light and below-view-blocking window to take photographicalisation of the sky… The howling wind blew the window in and clouted me on the forehead, knocked the glasses of my head. And flung the t-shirt that was hanging there, right across the room. With the coathanger managing to hit my ear-hole as it went by! The mysteries of 72 Woodthorpe Court, the illusions, delusions, hallucinations, infestations, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and manic machinations that thrive here freely, are bountiful! Just thought I’d mention it.
I must try to get some graphics done, even though it’s beyond my usual head-down time. But no, only one ‘Thought’ done, and the fatigue set in.
I went to get the stew meal sorted and prepared. First, I just had to take a couple more photographs of the sky view, with the sun still trying to get its heatless, cold beam on earth. Bootiful!
I moved the mish-mash of leeks, potatoes, mushrooms and garden peas, from the crock-pot into the saucepan. Added some tinned beef in gravy to the mix, and out some more balsamic vinegar in. Stirred it well, tasted a spoonful, then made some gravy, and that was mixed in too.
While it heated up again, I washed the slow-cooker pot and casing. What a horrible, messy, time-consuming job! Cut my finger, dropped the rag, spilt water all over the sink. Dangwangles!
Got the things back on the counter, and made an orange spring water drink to take the medications with. I had a view of outside as I took the tablets, and down by the bottom of my sadly, much-missed tree copse, I could see people going over to something left at the foot of the hill. I zoomed in to see what it was. A tribute, possibly from a funeral, left as you can in. I wondered sadly if I will ever get fit enough to visit the copse again. I used to love going through and just stopping at times, to almost talk to the trees, and smell nature. I lovely gesture I think, putting this where presumably, the deceased used to stroll him or herself? Heartwarming, but depressing on a personal level, at the thought of my never being well-enough to visit it again! Maybe one day, with someone with me, I’d like to try.
I pulled myself out of my self-pity mode, to find the pan of ‘Inchcock imitation Stew’ was bubbling over! Oh, Gawd! More cleaning up and washing to do! Humph!
I got the meal served up and pondered on what I’d actually put in it. Potatoes, mushrooms, leeks, black Iberico tomatoes, garden peas in rich gravy… and the seasoning! Well, sea salt, balsamic vinegar, distilled vinegar and beef stock. Sounds a bit of a risk, but it smelt nice. Hehehe!
I ate it all up, with a flavour rating of 7.5/10 given.
Dropped the dish and things in the bowl to soak, and got down to watch a DVD.
01:00hrs: Woke, with memories of a dream I’d had floating about in the grey-cells. But they soon left, and all I knew was, the nocturnal mind-wanderings were of a likeable nature, but not the foggiest of any details, remained. Tsk!
Moments later, summoning from the inwards, advised me to hasten to the Porcelain Throne. So, I did. Which proved to be and up and down visitation. The evacuation went well enough, not too painful or messy, but it took a while and some effort.
During this, I had a go at the crossword book. And dropped it when the neurotransmitters failed in the finger-ends. I used the picker-upper to retrieve the book. I creased the pages in doing so. When I got it in my hand, a page with some of my scribble on it was on top. I’d written something about my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete; I think I wrote it when I was in the Acorn home, recovering from the stroke, so out of interest, I read it. It related to Pete visiting me there. And suddenly it dawned… I’d missed his birthday! Well, I can expect him to raid the flat again now! Hehe! He might even arm one of his drones and send it over! I must apologise to the lad. Sorry, Pete, me old mate, catch you later, I hope, Sir. I do feel a right schlemiel! I blame my doing that housework yesterday. (Red-face and shame growing!)
I took a rinse and wiped the contact surfaces, and off to the kitchen to make a brew. I took the medications.
Then got on with updating the Thursday blog.
But it was a nightmare with the amazingly crap service provided by the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, making things take several times longer than it should have. And yet yesterday, it was reasonably decent? In fact, it was to start with for the first fifteen minutes?
After about half-an-hour at it, the wee-weeing started, and it’s not stopped yet! Each and everyone was of the SSPAOQ (Short-Sharp-Painless-All-Over-Quickly) variety. But most frequent. I reckon that I must have dished the beta-blocker, in error for the Furesomide tablet! Thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for letting me down and failing to remove the Furesomide from the blister-packs in my prescriptions, as Nurse Leoni had asked you to do, and you said you would, but didn’t! She asked you again last week, and another prospectively worthless promise was received that you would on the next allocation. I hope you do get it right this time, bearing in mind you are classed amongst the top three Chemists in Nottingham by the Yell.co company. It’s only after talking with other old folks in the flats where I live about the problem that many have told me of their complaints about Boots, Llyods, and the Late Night Chemists in Sherwood. You all seem unreliable. So, how come you are in the top three? You used to be so caring, efficient, and reliable, too. Shame, a shame I can’t leave and use another pharmacist. And Boots and Lloyds are about to charge £10 per delivery.
I really went off the plot there, didn’t I? Sorry, but the annoyance of Mr Fries Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, and the suffering that Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA have put me through, gets to me sometimes, mainly when they both cause problems for me at the same time!
Now, my Grammarly keeps changing to US English, and I am so pissed-off!
As I gave up on the web and closed everything down, the landline rang out. It was Sister Jane to tell me I had forgotten Pete’s birthday. Oh, dear! ‘Trouble ‘t Mill!” I didn’t mention that I forgot my own last year! After all the help, the lad’s given me over the stroke, too. Oh, ecky thump!
I got the ablutions sorted out. The legs looked mighty fine! Dropsies that I can remember; Shaving Razors (4) Shaving cream. Teeth; toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash bottle. Showering: Showerhead, soap (3), sponge, and back-brush. Then another toe-stubbing against seat raiser. The sock-glide battle; that I had been mastering of late. Left me with a piece of the nail removed on the thumb, and a bruise on the knuckles. Also, I clouted my elbow on the sink edge, getting my trousers on! Now that’s more like me!
I felt almost happy about it! Sad, I know, but that happens to be how I think, good luck is unusual but pleasant. However, not as reliable or frequent as a good dose of my injurious calamities and failures are!
I tended to the handwashing next. A few bits needed doing, and I made a right mess of the kitchen in doing so. I was a smidge irked by having to clean the flipping floor again after doing it yesterday. A few quiet mutterings of a curseful nature were uttered. But overall, I remained in a decent enough mood with myself and the world.
When I’d got the clothes done, rung and hung, then the beep-beep hook on the coathanger with the jammie-bottoms hanging on it suddenly detached itself! And again water found its way onto the floor I’d just cleaned again! More foul language was silently-voiced, with one word coming out aloud, beginning with F!
I took a snap of the view from the unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking new kitchen windows. It looked like some rain is on the way. Pretty in a way, though. No, that’s not the word to describe it! More like, erm… I don’t know now, the name just departed my brain and off into the ether? Humph!
I got dressed and all ready for a bus ride to Sherwood. After double, treble checking things, especially the potatoes in the new small cooker, lights taps, etc. I departed. I rang Josie’s bell on the way out, but no answer.
Down and along the link-passage to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators), Wardens to us, Holding Cell office. A quick nip in and handed the nibbles out. All done in thirty-seconds, and off into the Winwood Court Social Lounge. Only one person in there, a Nottingham City Homes agent. There was a lot of them arrived today. Including the Nottingham City Homes Generalfeldmarschalless Housing Patch Manager/Catwalk Model, Angela Gould.
I got the crosswording tackled for fifteen minutes or so, did well today. Then forced the reluctant Arthur Itis’s knees to let me stand up again, and off to the Winchester Court foyer. Had a natter with Margaret, Mary, and some other tenants, then, out to the bus stop.
Got the L9 down to Mansfield Road, took a photo to the right, then the left.
I limped down to the left, to the Azam store, the one with the lime window shades, to search for some fruit and veg. But, oh, what a selection of old food at top prices they had on offer! I turned around and back up the hill and tried the Co-op shop. They had some Cox’s apples, not cheap, but they looked okay, a bag of small potatoes, a wholemeal bread thins, and some mushrooms.
I paid at the self-serve tills without any problems. Then out and crossed over at the traffic light, to go to Abdul’s shop with the Post Office in it, to get some Puff Pastry fingers.
The shop that was a Bingo and entertainment establishment had been graffitied. But not by good skilfull ones.
As I took this photo, a young Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist came by, and gave the evil eye and said something, but I could not hear what it was he said. Then casually plodded on up the hill, with his hands in his pockets, not on the handlebars.
I got to Abdul’s and got a packet of the fingers and a pack of jam tarts, £1 each. I met Welsh William at the check out ahead of me. He held the door open for me as I followed him out. We had a chat on my way to the bus stop, and he diverted into the bookies. That’s William in the light blue jacket shooting off for a flutter on the gee-gees, I imagine.
I carried on to the bus shelter, just as the rain came down heavier. Good timing! Some tenants of the flats, unknown to me by name and I had a chinwag for a while, as the bus came a little late today. But it wasn’t cold with it like it has been these last couple of days. The rain seems to have scattered the local populace.
Back at the flats, I was off the bus last as usual, to avoid banging into anyone or getting hit about. One of them waited to hold the door open for me, bless the gentleman! I did my best to catch up with them for a natter, but they were already at the end of the passage near the swipe door, by the time I entered the corridor. William was leading the charge.
I got the few things purchased put away and began to formulate what to have for today’s nosh with the new potatoes. Which incidentally were ready to go now, in the crock-pot. So I moved them in with the garden peas in the saucepan.
Then, I got the computer on and downloaded the photos to Coreldraw for resising. Then, with a certain nervousness, I restarted the Libert-Global internet and made a mug of tea, while I waited to restart hopefully.
It was just the same as before, no change. It seems to be cutting out every few minutes, but only for a few seconds, then coming back on? But, it seems, only on WordPress this time? Unless its just the timing?
I went on Facebook to test that out on the TFZers page. Got loads of photos on. But some moving pictures set Saccades-Sandra off, and now the Dizzies are back. So I’ll get the nosh made and settle down to try and rest a while.
Head cleared now, and I nodded-off (beyond my usual head-down time now) for a few minutes, I woke and went to sort the meal out.
Oh, flippin’ ‘eck! The potatoes were slightly burnt! The leeks had disappeared altogether! Thank heavens I warmed the garden peas in another pan! The saucepan had to be put down. I said a few words over it as I washed it and put it in its final resting place, the rubbish bag. A sad event, cause this saucepan had lasted longer than any other in the depths of the Whoopsiedangleplops, and the cursed Accifauxpas mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court kitchen. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! It was a veteran; it lasted the course without any damage for four months! Frogglemoths! I managed to clean the lid and kept it, in memory of the devoted pans loyalty, he’s not had an easy life, something I could empathise with.
However, I still ate the potatoes, not the black bits, mind. The feast was enjoyed, with a tinge of sadness for the saucepan. Hehehe!
Pork & mushroom pate, the lucky-not-go-the-same-way as the potatoes garden peas, an apple, a black tomato, beetroot, and the well-tasty potatoes! Lemon curd yoghourt for afters, with a bottle of fresh orange juice. A flavour-rating of 7/10.
Then, I went to get the pots washed. I returned to the junk room mark 2, got settled in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, yucky-grungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.
I got the TV on and noted that channel 81 on Freeview, a film, Crooks in Cloister was about to start. It rang a distant bell in my mind, so I decided to watch it… I nodded-off into slumberland as it was beginning. Not only that, but I slept for about 5½ hours uninterrupted!
01:15hrs: I woke up, feeling so tired still, why, I know not. But there you go! I got my cumbersome short-plump, wobbly body up, caught my balance, and without to much bother, as well! The absence of Dizzy Dennis almost made me give out a “Yee-Haa!” No wee-wee, no Porcelain Throne needs either!
Off to the kitchen, where I got the kettle on. The innards began to suddenly and importunately rumble and grumble. I hastened to the wet room and got seated on the Porcelain Throne. It was a reluctant evacuation, but nae bother, the crossword book was utilised, the pain was of a minimum, and it was not messy. Mmm, disconcerting!
Not only, but as well as and besides them, the pins (legs) were looking even better. On the verge of normalisticalistion! Well, apart from what I think might be one of the coming and going blotches, due to the Clopidogrel Clive. Even, Varicose-Veins-Victor had calmed down! I think I’ll upgrade my previous exclamation from disconcerting to worrying!
Had I woken up in another world? I clambered out of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner so easily! No dizzies, an almost routine Throne visit? Plus, Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna were giving me no hassle at all. Little-Inchies Fungal Lesion and Harolds Haemorrhoids were not bleeding! Worrying, in a way! Most incomprehensible! But, let’s give them time.
I put some leeks and mushrooms in the small crock-pot, seasoned with onion salt. Then made another mug of tea, and belatedly took the medications.
I got on the computer to update the diary, for I knew it was going to be a long haul, with my going out yesterday and the bank meeting to add. Going to be another long one, but I hope interesting for once.
Then… Eurgh!
The going with the updating was riddled with contretemps, ever correcting. It took hours before the internet settled into its usual slow-mode status. That, I could live with.
After a couple of hours, I went to check on the potatoes and leeks that were in the new cooker. The lid was rattling with the pressure, so I turned it down to the low setting. I poked a potato with a plastic fork, and it burst open! Blimey, that cooked quick! So I took out the spuds and used them for nibbles during the morning. I think with them being very tiny in size, is the cause of this contretemps?
Mr Fries internet was getting more reliable. But for God sakes don’t let him know, the price will go up again!
07:26hrs: 7.5 hours after starting, I finally got the post finished. Fed-up? Me!
I emailed the link. Then went on Pinterest and posted some pictures. Then onto the WordPress reader. Next, the TFZer Facebooking.
At 0945hrs, I started this blog off.
I kept checking on the crock-pot, there were not many leeks left, most had turned to liquid! Humph! A right mess from the slow-cooker fiasco in the kitchen needed sorting out. Oh dearie me, yes! Decision time again! I didn’t want to turn off the computer and go off itself again. But I wanted to clear the mess up. But I had to get the ablutions done first, so I looked semi-respectable if I met anyone. The black bags needed sorting and getting rid off. The kitchen floor needed a good mopping up. So much to get done… but excuses, I can’t see myself feeling as fit as this again. The head was spinning a bit now, with unbelievability.
So, I closed all the programs apart from the internet itself. WordPress, Coreldraw, Hippo, and Word. And put the machine in sleep mode. Then got the ablutions done, I need the Porcelain Throne again anyway. The ablutionalisationing session went well. Any more good luck, and I may have another stroke or heart attack, this is all unnatural). Fair enough, the dropsies were frequent, there was no bleeding, dizzies, toe-stubbing, or knocking over anything. The sock-glide battle as an injury-less draw. There were a few mini-knicks when shaving, though. To be expected.
Got the togs to wear ready, and visited the wet room. I should be back in a few hours, providing I don’t do anything silly, like sit down and fall asleep (which is already tempting me, so as I can avoid the cleaning and mopping up. Haha!), or snuff-it. TTFN.
(Well, I didn’t make it back until I woke up Friday at 01:00hrs. Humph!)
Having been refreshed,
I got myself dressed.
Work needed doing, there’s no rest,
Sorted the filled box’s, tied em with string,
Sweep the kitchen the next thing,
Then mopping to do, Arthur Itis started to sting,
Left it, for now, good thinking!
So, I stacked the box’s, on the trolley thing,
Out to the lobby, the lift did arrive and ping,
I got into the cage, no box’s tipping,
To the lobby, and to the caretaker’s den,
I wouldn’t like to have to do this again!
Robert, (or is it Steven? Oh, the brain!) helped me unload the things and we had a little natter. I told him of my crock-pot disasters, and he told me of some he’s had. Nice to talk!
Back up to the flat, and tackled the mopping up of the filthy kitchen floor. I had to change the water in the bucket twice!
I clouted my ankle a few times, and at one point, all the signs of the peripheral neuropathy right-leg were building up for a Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dance showed. The almost intangible tremors around the right knee and the hip shakes are usually reliable indicators. But not this time, thankfully. Which with me mopping, a dance now, could have been dangerous. Another spot of good luck for me. This out of the ordinary, idiosyncratic run of uncustomarily good fortune, to be honest, scares the living daylights out of me. It’s just doesn’t happen to me?
But the floor didn’t look bad after I’d got it done. It was worth annoying Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna a bit. (Liar!)
While the floor dried, I went down to the Hauptsturmfuhreresses Holding Cell and Office, with the last of the Easter treats. They were busy, and my EQ told me I was annoying them. But, pole-dancer and Warden Deana, did pose for me to take a snap of her. I thought she looked just like my Sister Jane did, fifty years ago! A quick natter and I returned to the flat.
I went outside on Chestnut Walk, back to the flat, so I could take some photographs of the buildings. Not received any for a while now, with all those days being stuck indoors over the month. Thanks mainly to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for being late with my prescriptions and leaving me without painkillers and beta-blockers for five, no, six days! Just thought I’d mention it! I wonder if the next months will arrive on time? The Medicine Management lady, Leoni, who I complained to, told me to ring them when I get to my last weeks blister-pack and remind them. Very helpful, professional and useful! Especially as she knows I am almost deaf! I wandered-off the plot there, sorry.
As I ambled along in the cold sunshine, I took these pictures along the way.
Chestnut Walk. A shot of the cars blocking emergency vehicle access?
Winchester Court, looking good!
Front of Winwood Court
Woodthorpe Court and part of Winwood Court
I got back to the apartment and remembered to take the original crock-pot to the waste-chute room, as told to by Stephen (or Robert?) earlier, for him to kindly collect and dispose of for me.
Weariness and fatigue dawned early again. I locked the flat door for once so that I would not be disturbed by anyone coming in, for I felt the need for sleep to be needed, more than usual.
I got the meal prepared and served up. Those wicked, unhealthy Frikadellens, done it the oven, and caramelised onion chutney slathered liberally on top of them (Evil-chuckle), garden peas, much-overcooked but still tasty leeks, a sliced black Natoori tomato, and four mushrooms done with balsamic vinegar, and a few mini new potatoes. With a luxurious lemon-curd yoghourt for afters, with a bottle of fresh orange juice! Bu gum, I relished that! Flavour rating of 9/10 given! But, I must resist the temptation to have Frikadellens again for a few months, cause despite the fantastic taste, they are really not healthy at all!
I got the pots washed, thought about doing the handwashing, but didn’t, and got my head down, turning the telly on. I had one programme I wanted to watch, then I could nod-off.
But while watching the alien documentary, I sensed a flashing light coming from the hallway? I whipped off the headphones, and could hear a squeaking, whiny noise?
As I fought my way out of the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, and made way, hobblingly and hanging onto the walking stick, to the hall. I still managed to give myself a sickeningly-sharp toe-stubbing against the Ottoman! I found the smoke alarm going off on the kitchen ceiling. There was a recorded message, that was the squeaking, whiny noise I heard I assumed. It repeated a few time before stopping. I caught a few words of the recording, ‘No action is needed’, I hope. So, I reckon it was an alarm test. Indeed, no smoke or fire around anyway.
I got back to the recliner, limping a little more painfully now the middle toe had had another bashing from the stubbing!
This palaver made getting to sleep again, harder. Humph!
23:52hrs: I transformed into semi-life status, and responded to the need for a wee-wee hastily, for it was an urgent need! Raising my wobbly, over-stomached body-mass from the second-hand, £300 recliner and taking the stick and few paces to the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with ease. I had an SFDBFF (Started-Firm-Determined-But-Faded-Fast) style evacuation. No demands for a Porcelain Throne came?
I got to the kitchen, cleaned and sanitised the bucket. Took the medications, and made a brew of Glengettie tea, to ease my brain hopefully, into some sort of mental action. It seemed to work! For after a good gulp of the deep-amber fluid, I remembered that the food delivery was coming early, twixt 07:00 > 08:00hrs. I decided to make sure I got the ablutions done sooner than usual as well! Then, as I hobbled carefully back to the computer dump room, I recalled that today was the Bank Manager’s visit appointment!
As I settled and got the computer on to update the blog, I noted how well things were going this morning, up to now anyway. The attentions of Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, and even Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun were all minimal! Only Saccades-Sandra and a few tremors and shakes from the peripheral neuralgia arm and shoulder were of any real worry-worthiness. Even the toothache seemed less painful? That’s something else; when I go to see the bank manageress, I must call at the dentists to make an appointment.
I felt almost semi-contented as booted up the computer. It didn’t last for much longer! First, I realised that the right-hand fingers Neurotransmitter nerves were bad, and knew this would mean difficulties in typing. But before I got a chance to find out properly, the famously pathetic and unreliable Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, let me down again!
I got some potatoes and mushroom in the slow-cooker for later. Just seasoned with salt this time. Ah, the internet was back on!
I struggled on with the blogging update. Which was one of the easiest for months, as I was stuck-indoors again yesterday, so only a few photographs to sort out, plus, I’d stayed up later than usual, so it was virtually finished when I started it – Does that make sense? Anyway, it kept going off so often, and I had to just press on until it returned on its own. What a palava! But I did get it finished and posted off, hours after starting it, though!
I needed to make a template for this post. The CorelDrawing bit was fine, but getting the template made up on WordPress was a grind-and-a-half with the internet failing so often, for periods of a minute, three minutes back on, and off again… Arghh!
I went on the TFZer Facebooking, that was a bind too. Thanks to Mr ‘I don’t-know-what-I’m-doing, but still, I get paid a fortune’ So I’m not bothered, Fries! Swine! Mafia minded bully and incompetent, mob-backed merchant! Probably not true, but how else does such an arrogant, unskilled pillock like that, keep his job?
I made a start on this blog but gave up. Too much like hard-work, thanks, Mr Fries! The farcical Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet came last month to do some upgrading, that made things worse than before. They are coming again on Feb 6th to try again. Phwert!
I put the handwashing in soak and went to get the stand-up ablutionalisationing done. Apart from around five shaving cuts, and about four dropsies, all went well. Even the Sock-Glide battle (I think I’m mastering the thing now!) Smug-Mode-Adopted!
Got smelly with sprays, dressed and went to get the handwashing. All done, rung and hung. That Amazon long sleeve t-shirt that was chocolate brown when I bought it, turned to green on the first wash, and is now a sort of olive-dark blue colour, Tsk!, has still got that stain on the front. I must have spilt some bleach on it. Humph!
So, no toe stubbings, no Dizzy Dennis’, Shaking Shaun was still about, but not so interested in me as he was earlier.
Still, there are no Porcelain Throne attentions called for? Mmm?
I went to the kitchen and decided to take a couple of photographicalisations from the unwanted, disliked, anti-photographer, and deaf people designed with wide ledges to stop me seeing what is below and taking a snap. Or, see if any emergency vehicles are on-site, due to me not hearing the Fire Alarm.
The sun kept trying to come out but went in and hid when it came to my picturing the view. Coming out the moment I’d put the camera away! Huh!
I sorted the black bags and took them to the waste chute. Then returnedReadies, black bags down to chute. Back to the flat, and dithered about, convinced that something had not been done yet. A general feeling of anaemia reigned.
It took me a long while trying to sort out what it was that was niggling at me. And then I didn’t find it! I had the Bank paperwork, card, bus-pass, hearing aids in the lug-holes, the right glasses on the head, alert bracelets on the wrists, Warfarin card in pocket, money, sourdough bread for the ILCs, medications taken, Calendar checked for appointment time at the bank (In fact they sent me text reminding me of the 10:00hr attendance and punctuality needed – Read later, a farce!), crossword book in the trolley… Oh, what the heck is it?
But I had to accept defeat. Wrapped up warmly, and then the farcical double-checking started. To reassure myself and verifying that all in the apartment was left safely.
Out to ask Deana if the kitchen volunteers wanted the new extra-large crock-pot or not. No message has been sent back from anyone who had been received when I offered yesterday morning. I also had a treat for them, of the Polish sliced sourdough bread. They love it, and I love being able to treat them when I order anything from Ocado, who, as far as I know, is the only place that sells it. A little thank you.
I departed, still feeling uneasy, thinking about whatever it was I thought had not been done or taken with me. Humph!
When I got in the lift, I found a damp t-shit on the deck in the cage. Obviously, some poor soul had dropped it when returning from the laundry room. So, I pucked it up and shook off the bits from the floor attached to it, and hung it on the handrail. I hope they find it later. Just my sort of antics to get up to!
When I got to the Winwood Heights Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Wardens and Lap-Top Dancers Interrogation Office, but no one answers my knock.
So I went to the big social lounge and had a go at my crossword book for a bit. I got involved in the puzzle and nearly forgot the time, I had to rush a little to get to Winchester Courts lobby. Where some tenants were waiting in the warmth for the bus. I handed out some nibbles, and we nattered and laughed a little, as I accepted the put-downs and touches of sarcasm in good spirit.
A big crowd at the shelter this morning. Angela & Roy, Penny, Shirley, Mary, Margaret, Doris, Louie, Welsh William, the snotty bloke from Woodthorpe Court, and others. Note how I remembered so many names there? Smug Mode adopted.
I good chinwag with Margaret on the few bus-stops down Winchester Street, where I dropped off the bus with Angela and Roy. We all went into the bank. Angie and Roy got served first, and I waited my turn. The appointment time passed by. No signs of anyone interested in me. Angie and Roy may have had a query of some sort because they were escorted into the office where my meeting was supposed to have been.
I kept poddling about the place with the trolley-walker, to keep the knees from stiffening, for fifteen minutes or so. When the pair came out of the office and passed me on the way out, Angela said she was sorry for messing up my appointment and keeping me waiting, bless her. I replied, “Thank you, it just shows how lucky my life is!” She did laugh!
The Local Banker, Washeeda Hashmi, came to collect me. My EQ saw pound-signs on legs! Which proved to be right! As we walked to the office, she apologised for keeping me waiting. With a broad grin, I answered; Yes, I suppose they have bigger assets and investments than me?” She smiled, cocked her head to one side and said, “Well, yes” and her grin broadened. Ah, a sense of humour, I liked that!
First, the lady was advised by me of my medical situation, and I started by asking her about the second account, asking why the interest had been cut by 50%. I received what sounded like gobbledegook and ended up more confused than before I’d asked the question. But, she changed something or other, and the interest was, all 1.5%, was restored, but in a new different account? High finance, not my easiest of topics for me to get a grip on!
Then the sales pitch came. Did I want to increase my cover in the event of losing my money? How much do I pay for my current house-contents insurance? I was given her card to call or pop in to see her when the coverage is due to be renewed. Name, tel number, she works Mopn Tue Weds only, I must ring her, she might be able to offer a better deal. Is your funeral arranged yet? ‘Yes!’
Then I inquired about the new cashcard and what is needed to be done. She patiently explained things and even went out with me to the cash-point to ‘Enable’ or was it ‘Actuate’, the card for me. I asked if I could draw some cash, to be sure the card was now operational. “No problem,” she said. But the machine would not accept the card! She looked embarrassed, and I felt baffled! We went back inside, and the card was used at the counter, and it worked! Phew!
I thanked her and made my way out onto Mansfield Road, nonplussed, foggier-headed, and somewhat more perplexed than I did when I entered the bank.
Up the hill to the bus stop. Things worked out well timing-wise, two-minutes later, the L9 to Arnold arrived.
I had another bash at the crosswording en route. I got off on Front Street, right near the Asda store, and went in to have a look at their slow cookers on offer. I managed to avoid the dangerously driven mobility scooters and got into the shop. They had a range of small crock-pots on sale.
From which of course, making my mind up which one to buy, took a lengthy spell of ditherisationing. I ended up selecting the smallest on offer. Only £14, 1.5L size. They had several 1.8L ones that were even cheaper to buy. But this smaller one will suit my needs, I hope, anyway.
Now, I was struggling a bit in getting around the store with the box and the three-wheel-walker-guide. I limped around and ended up at the check-out with; The crock-pot, pack on mini-Swiss rolls, some potatoes, and chopped leeks. Paid the helpful gal on the till, who also helped me load the bag, and even put it on the trolley handle for me. Thank you, petal!
Now, with the two bags on the walker-guide, one with the cooker in it, I poddled unsteadily out onto Front Street. The alarm went off as I left the store through the tag recognisers, from the cooker most likely. But no one came to check on me. It seemed eerily free of cyclists, pedestrians, beggars, and mobility scooters out there!
I pondered over my next move. There were about twenty-five minutes before the bus was due. So, I went down and over the road, to have a look in the Fultons Foods shop, to get some garden peas with the ring-pull openers if they had any in. I ambled stumblingly (the balancing of the bags was not easy, with the one with the cooker in it sticking out and catching things. Tsk!) to the crossing, and over the road to the shop. I came out with three for-a-pound tins of peas, Hills Shorties biscuits, and two pots of lemon cheesecakes.
I made my way to the bus stop, and Mary was sat sitting there in the shelter. There was still ten-minutes or so until the bus was due. We had a good nattering session, during which Mary showed an interest in having the gigantic slow-cooker. Well, being as no one had let me know it the Winwood Court kitchen could use it, I said she could have it.
No crosswording on the route back to the flats. There was no room with the two bags and trolley bag full, it took all my concentration to stop the useless brakes-applied guide from shooting off each the bus went around a corner or braked sharply. But Mary and I managed a tete-e-tete, though.
We got back to Winwood Heights, and I dropped the sourdough bread off in the warden’s office. No mention of the giant-crock-pot being needed, so I dropped off the loaf and told Mary she could have it straight away. We ambled to Woodthorpe Court and up in the lift, Maty getting off on the first floor, and saying she would be up for the cooker soon. No problem, I say’s, and I carried on up to the twelfth floor and got inside.
I had a bit of bother getting the bags in, but did it okay. Emptied out the trolley and carriers, and was setting up the new cooker, as Mary arrived. She took the cooker, asked how much, I said ‘Nowt’, she thanked me and shot off with it.
I put the fodder away. Then got the new pot set-up next to the other semi-new biggerer one.
Which, of course, meant I now have to find room to put all the stuff I had to move away off of the counter-top, to avoid them being near the heat of the crock-pots when in use!
I’ll have to keep an eye on the control settings being used. They are different from each other. Fingers crossed I don’t cock it up!
I got the pots and mushrooms out of the larger crock-pot and made up the evenings meal. Pork pie meat, a Natoora black Iberico tomato, beetroot, garden peas, chestnut mushrooms, new potatoes and a sliced Cox’s apple. A lemon curd yoghourt and drink of fresh orange juice with it. Rated at 8.2/10 for flavour. Even the tomatoes, which were meaty tasting, although they were Spanish. I enjoyed that!
The washing up was done. Cleaning the large slow-cooker took longer than everything else put together! Glad I’ve got the new smaller one for tomorrow, at last.
I put the computer on to add to the calendar, and the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet was working okay?
Put the TV on, and after an hour or so of nodding-offs and wakenings, I gave up and turned the telly set off.
Then, the brain-storming began! Fears, worries, past-faults, heebie-jeebies, psychasthenia, and insecurity all flowed and churned inwardly.
It was ages before I hibernated for the evening. Hey-ho!
01:10hrs: I stirred, thought about a dream I’d been having. Coughed, passed-wind, listened to the World Famous ‘Hum’ as loud as ever, and was immediately annoying and weed-off. “That’s a good start to the day!” I thought. Then the innards started movements of a worryingly dynamic nature. A hectic, but injury-free scramble to the wet room began. No signs of nocturnal nibbling spotted.
My timing was perfect (I’m glad I rushed, though!), the instant I was on the Porcelain Throne, things started. But it was a long hard slog. For after a second or two, much effort was needed. The cistern struggled, needing two flushes to clear things. On the wonderfully bright-side, there was no bleeding, and things were not messy. Washed disinfected and off to the kitchen.
Where a shock awaited me when I went to make a brew. I thought I’d fill-up the Glengettie tea-bag pot. After a long search, there was none to be found! So I did an Ocado order for some more. I got some Thompsons Punjana as well.
I got the medications taken, then started to update the Monday diary! It took me three and a bit hours, but with soo many photographs to sort out, this was not too long at all. The right-side neurotransmitters were not bad at all this morning. Colin Cramps had replaced them as the worse offender. Surprisingly, in the left hand, only fingers? Heck of a painful job to get them straightened up at times. At least, annoying as this was, it was far preferable to the nerve-end failures, so I looked on the bright side.
Towards the end of updating…
Then…
Most aggranoying! This stopping and starting continued for the rest of the day. Taking the pleasure away from the Internet for me. Most importantly, it cost me far to much time and delayed things getting done. Thank you. Mr Fries! (Blumpherations!)
I managed to get the post finished, and my patience tested to the full.
I went to make another mug of tea, and the sky looked beautiful. I couldn’t take a decent shot, cause the camera was on charge. So I got the old little battery one, and took three shots, and linked them together, then trimmed them. As I went to take another photo, the camera died a death! I buried it in the recycling bag, saying a few words in memorisation. Haha! I levelled and cut them.
I tended to the ablutions. Only a couple of dropsies this time. (Razor (2), flannel) It went well overall, and the Sock Glide was tamed!
The legs looked better, I thought. The mystery bleeding from the overnight appeared spots and blotches, were drying-up nicely.
But the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, was really crap today! Even for them!
Forever getting this sign up. Ha! it just came up again, two minutes after the last one!
I think they should change the name from Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet to Mission Impossible Internet! Gerrangulations!
The sweet, highly desirous Nurse Christina should be here soon, I hope, to take my blood.
I went on the WordPress Reader. Gave up on Libert-Global internet.
Got the handwashing done, wrung and hung!
Sunshine, in the form of Nurse Christina, bucked me up as she arrived to take my blood. She let me take her photo, in the balcony, bless her. I wish I’d got a printer now! Humph!
After she had left, I went on TFZer Facebooking. But it was hard work with the net going down so often.
I tried to clean the oven, but too painful getting at it.
Then another summoning to the Porcelain Throne. A lot easier performance this time. Which was nice, cause I expected the same problems again.
Fatigue and weariness dawned, so I got some chips in the oven, I’ll have to eat the short-dated mini pork pies again. (Snigger!)
Gawd how tired I suddenly feel!
Got the nosh done, a quick job, I didn’t fancy falling asleep eating again. Some mini pork pies, truffle fries and caramelised onion relish. An apple and lemon curd dessert for afters. Quick, little washing up to do. I was soon in the recliner eating it and ate the lot.
But although I expected to nod-off, it took me longer than for ages, to get to the land of bliss. Don’t know why.
I came back to life. (Well, that was a bonus to start with, Hehehe!) Felt weary, looked at the clock, which indicated to me that it was 00:25hrs. The cal to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and almost started on its own, a bit of urgent buttock-clenching, helped me get out of the £300 second-hand recliner and to the wet room, barely in time.
I don’t want to lower the tone of this honest-open-true blog any further, but I just have to mention this: It was agony! It took a lot of effort and time. And the evacuated product looked just like three hand-grenades in shape. Amazingly there was no bleeding with it at all? The soreness soon eased off, as well. If it wasn’t so crude a subject to many, I could write a book about my Porcelain Throne visits variations. Haha! Better not though!
I was soon feeling a lot perkier… alright, not so bad, then. Washed, antisepticised the contact areas, and off to the kitchen. I was feeling pleased that I did not oversleep, in fact, I’d had less sleep than for ages. (Not counting the nights when I didn’t get any, of course) And felt better now, than for many a morning, weary-wise.
I made a brew of Glenghettie tea, took the medications, and pondered on the days upcoming Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and frustrations. (Well, they always do! Tsk!) I took a shot out of the unwanted, disliked, light & view-blocking kitchen window, with the wide ledges that stop me looking below for emergency vehicles when the fire alarm goes off, and I can hear it. Which is a rarity! No stars out that could be seen?
I went into a drawer to get a sharp knife and found Liberty-Global Virgin Media letter, why I put it in the drawer is uncertain. I recognised it immediately; only virgin media use font sizes so small they are almost unreadable, even with the reading glasses on.
They are to be working again on the upgrading of the service, on Thursday 7th February. Well, last month when they did some work, they left the service more unreliable than it was before! Hey-Ho!
I found the knife required and being as the right-hand side neurotransmitters were working reasonably well at this moment. I decided to risk getting the gigantic crock-pot back in its box, and then get the newer on out the other box. See if it fits on the counter-top, and get the stuff ready with the already copious amounts of black bags and recycling ones, made up yesterday. But waiting in for the delivery meant I couldn’t leave the flat, for taking down to the skip. Which is a prospective dangerous Whoopsiedangleplop-risk situation?
I set about my self-given tasks. It was hard work, made worse when Anne Gyna and Saccades-Sandra both started to give me some grief.
Eventually, I got the new-old massive cooker back in its box. There were foam sheets etc. that would not go back in, as I expected. But it is now transportable, at least. I felt rather semi-pleased with myself! Smug-Mode-Adopted!
As I was taking the new box into the kitchen to release the contents, I was, well, stunned to see the clock reading 4:10hrs! What! I hadn’t even started the bog updating yet! I decided what had happened was: I’d misread the clock on waking up. I read it as 00:25hrs, so I tried to think-out what the time actually was then. But could not work it out in my befuddled brain. I did feel a Klutz!My previously adopted Smug-Mode evaporated! I was puzzled, but that’s not unusual nowadays.
I got the newest slow-cooker out of its box using the steak-knife. Good job I was in the kitchen at the time, it gave me quick access to the cold-water tap, Germolene and finger-plasters from the medical drawer nearby. Humph!
The cooker was twice the size of the original one, but a third less large as the big one. I tested the space to see if it would fit in, only just, but it did. I was planning to sort out the shelves to make more room. But with my mistiming things, I had to get on sharp[ish to do the updating of the Sunday post. (Pillock!)
The instructions and advertising bumph will have to be read and hopefully digested at a later time.
Oh, it’s a Slow Cooker and Searer? Searer? That will have to be looked up later, on Google as well! I could top-myself, but I just don’t have the time. Hahaha!
I pressed on with updating the WordPress blog. Luckily it didn’t take too long. As usual; with staying in again waiting for deliveries, I took only a few photographs. Saccades-Sandra did her best, and no doubt slowed me down somewhat.
The ablutions had to be done, and with rushing now, the risk of an Accifauxpa was high, I kept telling myself not to take risks. (Do I listen?)
The pins (legs) looked a tiny bit battered, but I’ve no idea why? However, the scrubbing-up went well today. A few dropsies, no shaving cuts, the sock-glide battle was injury-free, and it was completed without clearing the floor cabinet of things. Although the Germoloid tube had to be rescued when I went down the back of the stand. The picker-upper was handy and efficient for once. I’m so glad I bought another one now, this one for the wet room, and the other one for the rest of the flat. I’ve also got one in the kitchen, it is a cheap one, and not much use, anything small, or above 4oz cannot be grabbed! I’m waffling again, Sorry!
I took some bags to the waste chute, and the workers doing the fire-sprinkler system were working in the lift lobby, they had stuff laying about, and kindly took the bags from me, and chuted them. Kind of them. We had a natter and laugh.
Back to the flat, I got readied and made my way down, though the link-passage, and to the ILC’s Interrogation and Body-Searching Office in Winwood Court. Hehehe!
Here, a lingering unsolved mystery was clarified by Obergruppenführeresses Desk-top Dancer & Warden Deana. When I woke to find the things in the hallway the other day, and the light in the hall, I had no idea what had happened, but I just knew someone had been in. Well, Deana told me that Jenny and Josie had been concerned at not seeing me for a while, and Jenny had come to check on me. Found me asleep, checked I was breathing, and was alright, and left me to it. Now that was indicative of that lady – so kind of her. Thanks, Jenny ♥!
I offered the nibbles around and explained how the night was, and my sleeping pattern was all gone to pot and why. That brought a yawn from her! Hahaha! We had a little gossip between the four of us, and I left.
As I met Angela and Roy in the foyer, I greeted them, and almost walked into the desk? That was when I realised that I had on the reading glasses! So I had to go back to Woodthorpe Court, to get the bifocals on. Then a bit of rush to get back down again in time to catch the bus.
I got through to Winchester Court and handed some nibbles out to a few residents waiting for the bus, and had a mini-chinwag and laugh. The bus arrived, and out we all hastened. I felt something was wrong, not right as I went to get on the bus… Ah, that’s it, it wasn’t raining!
I dropped of the bus near the old Palligh de Dance, and walked over the two sets of pelican crossing lights needed, to get to Glasshouse Street.
I got to the Aldi shop, to get banged into, shoulder charged and got a shopping-trolley over my foot, then back to Parliament Street and to the Poundshop store.No injuries, but a few tut-tuts at the self-serve checkout, the assistant noticed me struggling a bit, and did the job for me. Bless her.
This below is a picture I took, mainly to try and get the same area as the second picture, from when the Victoria Centre was being built. I couldn’t get the right angle, cause that would have meant me going in the middle of the road… Too Risky! Haha!
The tale in pictures, from getting off of the bus, and going to the Poundshop.
Glasshouse Street
Lower Parliament Street
Glasshouse Street. This one is interesting, I thought it deserved its own photo. Where they were busy demolishing some, and building or converting other premises, mostly for extra student accommodation, some Grafittists had broken into the compound to do their thing. Before the mortar-mix had dried properly!
It looked unfinished to me, so they might return to finish it off again. It might not be the best artwork, well it isn’t, but you can’t fault them at their keenest to get at the wall! Tsk!
I came out of the Poundland shop and decided I had the time to walk along, taking some more photographicalisations. This was taken down Clumber Street, I was getting some rum looks from the Nottinghamians, that indicated their disapproval of my actions. Oh, dear!
So I took another, zoomed-in this time. Amidst the cheerless faces, and further looks of derision, I even got the evil-eye from one of Nottingham’s rarest people, a policeman!
Ah, well, yer can’t please em all!
I poddled along, quietly contented in my own fashion. I even tried to whistle, but the hole left by my last tooth abstraction made it hard work. Which shows how long it is since I decided to whistle blithely! Sad innit!
Then I saw the bus-jam going down King Street. Other buses needing access had joined the queue by the time I got to the corner. Where it became plain what the problem was, the dreaded roadworks! How the bus drivers get through in this conglomeration of obstacles, amazes me.
At the top of Queen Street, the view with the sky perfect for photographicalisationing was an amazingly good opportunity for a moody photo to be taken. Thankfully it came out decent enough to use. I checked on the camera screen and spotted another traffic problem.
I also noticed that there were no buses at any of the stops on Queen Street! This had never happened before. Someone had gotten hold of the driver of the lorry parked at the bottom apex, that was stopping buses getting by. He moved it, as shown in this picture, and they were still struggling to get through, and traffic came to a grinding halt again! This is going to cause a headache for the bus drivers and passengers awaiting them further along the route. All created, by one desperate poor old delivery driver, and roadworks.
Surprisingly, the L9 bus was on time? (Beats me how he did it, brilliant!) I was the sole passenger until two bus stops later. No Winwoodonians were picked up en route, but I got out the crossword book. I got a couple of old clues as well. Swank-Mode-Engaged!
I got off the bus and had a quick hello with some tenants getting on the bus, and accepted their snides, insults and put-downs in good spirit.
I didn’t meet anyone on the trip through the Winchester link-passage, the New Winwood Social room, the Winwood Foyer, the Woodthorpe court link-passage, and into Woodthorpee’s lift foyer. A notice advertising a residents meeting for Wednesday 5th February was on the notice board in the grungy, drab, dark lobby.
Up in the elevator and into the flat. No wee-wee called for? I got the purchasers put away. Aldi: Sourdough baguettes, Cox’s apples, vanilla dessert, chestnut mushrooms, Frikadellens, lemon yoghourts, Cheese(plastic)-topped cobs and four cans of ring-pull opening garden peas. Then the Poundland: Pork Farms Pork Pie (Yes, I weakened again!), Dettol disinfectants, Nibble bag gold bars, and a packet of lemon flavoured chocolate digestive biscuits Another weakness!
Warmed the garden peas, got two cheesy cobs buttered, sliced an apple, put some mini pork and pickle pies cut in half on the plate. Got down and tucked into the meal, but I’d again overdone it.
The weariness dawned on me even earlier today.
Most of it ended up in the bin. It helped me to eat less, by my nodding off while eating it!
Waking up, an hour or so later, with my over-abundant wobbly belly and the chair being covered with garden-peas, half a buttered cob, and streaks of caramelised red onion chutney did not go down well at all! The cleaning the mess up was done with deep-lying self-flagellation, and a toe-stubbing, as it was now dark and the Ottoman highjacked me as I was getting the walking stick. Humph! What a Yolop!
I’m showing an incredible amount of aboulia-abulia lately! And, dysphoria, self-contempt, and once again, depression. Still, it’s deserved.
After sorting out the state of the place without any further injuries, I got settled once again. But the events had started the Mind-Thought-Storming. so it was a long time before I could nod-off.
When I drifted away, a dream began. For some reason, even during the dream, I thought ‘I’ve dreamt this years ago’? Yet the images felt so real. Driving my old Subaru Justy, and getting lost, in a right pickle. Towards the end of the nightmare, I was on a motorway, and the exits disappeared as I approached them… can’t recall if got off or not! Hoggledruids!
00:05hrs: I woke in a sort of odd feeling of, get-up and go… No, that’s pushing it a bit. With a little pep in my step… No, well, not feeling too bad! Hehe! I knew I’d been dreaming again, but no traces of any plot, happenings, or memories of them this time.
I manoeuvred my flobby-wobbly body out from the £300, second-hand, rickety, c1968 recliner with relative ease. Oh, yes! As I got up into a semi-perpendicular stance, the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket) was needed. So, three steps later, I was performing the release, with relief! Back to the FDBFF (Firm-Determined-But-Faded-Fast) style, this time. I did notice how full the bucket was! How come I cannot recall using it?
As I hobbled to go and wash my dandies, I noticed a parcel, a letter, and the old slow-cooker, that I’d put outside to remind me to take with me to skip, were on the floor near the door? I went to investigate.
I believe, with a confused look on my face. I worked it all out in time. I think, maybe someone had delivered the Rice cooker flex and plug (they were in the parcel), and someone had posted me a letter that was for another flat, and one or the other must have thought I’d left the cooker thing out in the hallway by mistake and put it through the door. A moment or two of more Sherlock Holmes-like considerating, and I realised the parcel was too big to go through the letter-box! Then, I found I had left the door unlocked, ah, that means someone has been inside the flat, then?
My head ached, with all this unravelling and puzzling out the clues, so by the time I’d got to have a wash-up, I needed the Porcelain Throne as well. Worra a painful session it was! Bloody as well, but far less messy. You can’t win ’em all, Haha!
I checked out the pins, which were being shown interest in by Arthur Itis. Not bad looking at all, I thought.
As I left to go to the kitchen, the shaking started from the neurotransmitter transmissions failing. At least as of now, this is very often for a short time only. When I got in, I decided to get the handwashing done first thing. Thus giving me more time if needed, when getting Josies Sunday meal prepared in time.
It was soon time to get Josie’s meal ready. And I’d not done my ablutions yet! Tsk!
So, I got the cold stuff on the plate ready and had a stand-up wash in intervals! I kept, nipping into the kitchen, to stir the peas, mushroom and check on the fish in the oven. But not easy. Did the teeth, Check cooking. Had a shave. Check cooking. Washed the lower regions. Check cooking. You get the idea! Also, a fair amount of time was spent picking things up from the dropsies! A masterpiece of cunning planning! Hehehe!
I got the meal all prepped, and onto the serving trolley.
Out and delivered it to Josie’s door, just two minutes after noon!
But, no reply, was the answer to my repeated ringing of her bells.
Now I was worried about Josie. Had she gone to meet her sister again, and forgot to tell me? (I am the perfect person to understand about forgetting things myself in fact, an expert, in my own rights! Hahaha! But how do I know the gal isn’t lying on the floor inside on having taken a tumble? I don’t, and that is a concern. I pray she calls in the morning, or even tonight, and has remembered. Oh, dear!
I tried not to let it get me down. At least I didn’t have to make another meal for myself later: I ate this one!
I checked on the slow-cooker tracker, a bit of way to go yet to get here. (ETA of 16:45hrs > 17:35hrs) Then watched some TV with the subtitles on, so I don’t miss hearing the intercom if the delivery arrives, of the smaller crock-pot, I hope!
I went to make a brew and had to turn on the light in the kitchen. It had suddenly gone so dark, and the rain was starting to fall. I suppose this might mean the cooker is coming later than forecast.
Not that I mind a lot, but staying awake is the problematic part.
I washed the dishes and pots, then went on CorelDraw, graphicationalisationing. I got the grand-total of one graphicalisation done, and the door chime rang out. At first, I hoped and thought it might be Josie, returning from a day out – but it was the Amazon crock-pot being delivered. Not too bad, just three hours after my head down-time, so I’m not complaining.
I was too tired to bother checking out the pot now, but I took a couple of snaps of it, against ‘old’ one that had the ‘too big’ to use one in it.
I could tell right away that it was a smaller one I’d ordered. I’m quick, yer know! Hahaha!
Feeling done in again now. I updated this diary and got my head down.
The damned mind-thought-storming started, I tried to ignore it, but it knows all my fears, worries, loves and frustrations; and made a good job of bringing them back to me! Swine!
23:55hrs: Another flipping disturbed sleep. The constant dreams! It peeves me so that I cannot recall much of them. Other than they all involved my working days happenings, cock-ups, mistakes etc. were relived, but with a different outcome… I think. When I had to get up (yet again) to go for a wee-wee, (They were all of the LHNPOS (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Pain-Or-Sensation) variety, I decided I might as well stay up.
“Morpheus, sweet Morphius, please return to me – Please! I’ll be moaning in three or four days, about me falling asleep on the bus or Throne! Hehehe!
I got the stick and went to the kitchen, to take the medications and make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea.
Then I opened the Amazon bag and got the new coat out to try it for size. It was supposed to be XXL but was just a bit tight. When I saw the ‘Made in China’ label, this explained things a bit. I took off the hood, so I could keep it somewhere that I will not remember when I need it. Phwerp! It was lovely and warm, with six pockets for me to lose things in.
Most importantly and the reason I paid so much for it, it was long enough to cover-up the signs on my wearing the PP’s. The main worry was the delicate but stiff working zip, fingers crossed on that! I put it on a hangar, in the hope that the creases from it being wrapped tightly and squashed in transit, might fall out.
With no demand for the Porcelain Throne yet, I got on the computer, no point in going to have a wash and disturb the neighbours at this ridiculous hour. I started to update the Friday blog. During which, I got the hiccups for about an hour and a half. Why though, I just don’t know.
But I did recognise, that Arthur Itis, after yesterdays bad sessions, was all calm again? But there were tweaks of movement from the Peripheral Neuropathic right side leg. I felt sure that a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing session was soon to affect me, even my EQ warned me If I read him correctly – their’s no words, just emotion like feeling from him. I can’t understand or learn from him a lot of the time, but he’s rarely wrong). Bonkers? Me?
Later, the shoulder and arm-shaking started, but the finger-ends neurotransmitters were not too bad at the moment. The wee-wees all the same type, have been regular. I might have got a Furesomide taken by mistake for a Codeine 30g or Beta-blocker, with all three of them looking the same clour, size and shape, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store).
This is why, about 4-5 weeks ago, Nurse Leoni (Medicines Management Team) phoned Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store) pharmacy for me. Told them not to put the Furesomides in the blister-pack, because they are taken on an as-needed, ad-hoc basis.
But, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store) who assured Leoni they would in future be sent in packets, failed miserably and dispatched them in the blisters again. This should have annoyed me, well, it did at the time. But I couldn’t get too worked up about it, because Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store) delivered my medications five days late last month, and I had no Furesomides, Beta-blockers or Codeine to counter the pain I was in for those five days.
No apologies from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store). And to think, that ‘Yell’ (Yellow Pages) on the web, class them as one of the top three chemists in Nottingham! Astounding in the extreme, Troppo!
There must be some dangwangling, ‘Not-exactly-fair’ business practices going on here?
I began this post off. Then went to open the Crock-pot box. It was ginormous! Far too big for me to use. A family size one, for sure.
I had a proper struggle to get it out of the box. I then pondered on who to give it to. I’ll have to buy a smaller one.
I put the cooker on the kitchen-top. As you see by the picture, it ain’t gonna fit! It will have to squash things to get it in under the wall cupboard, and the heat of five or six hours simmering is going to be too dangerous for me. Nope, disappointing as it is, I will not risk using it. Tsk! It’ll have to go!
A proper shame that. I was going to do some mushrooms and tomatoes. But on a closer look at the Dutch tom’s, they were all seeping, with skins cracked and black spots coming up to the surface on them! Well, EQ did warn me! So it didn’t matter as much, now. But my idiocy still wrangled me!
I went all coy and ashamed. Suddenly badly depressed. I didn’t know whether to cry, commit hari-kari, lambast my own stupidity in not checking when I bought the slow-cooker, or just sob for a bit! Tsk! What a pathetic, stupid nayfish I am. Oy-oy-oy! Goodnight! As my spirits sank, a massive, moody moroseness, of mammoth-magnitude, made me melancholy and sulky!
As I began to go on the TFZer Facebooking… Oh, crap!
More time lost! I’d been up and about for eight-hours. And with no sleep, and the hassle with the cooker-cock-up I’d made, and now the internet, and still having some graphics to make up, downhearted and a lack of interest came over me.
When it came back on, the internet was very slow and kept having freezing moments. Which took the pleasure away from my TFZing!But I spent many hours on CorelDraw doing a couple of templates in readiness, a slog!
Feeling rough now. But hungry, which is not to be unexpected (that’s not grammatically correct is it? Or is it?), with not eating last night. Chilli-Beans with black bean sauce, pork slices and some bacon. And few slices of slightly stale Milk Roll bread.
While I was preparing the meal, as the brain drifting off into a meandering, thought-Storm of confusion, the ET came into communication with me. His message was short and sharp. “Expect a shock, soon!” But being as I am always doing this, as a natural part of by resilience building, Huh! I ignored him.
I got the nosh finished, served up, and tucked into. The black bean sauce weakened the chilli flavour, which suited me down to the ground. I blame Morrison’s, for substituting my curry beans with the Chilli ones!
A flavour rating of 7.2/10 was granted.
After eating, I decided I had better get the washing up done. Maybe to assuage my guilt with the Crock-Pot farce? When the pot-cleaning was done, I lifted the bowl to tip out the water so as to wipe it dry… Within seconds I had, soapy wet jammies and socks, the cabinets had running suds down them, the floor was awash, and all due to an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance from the right leg! To add to the misery, I kicked the four-pronged walking stick over, and the handle part fell on my left foot corn! Somehow, I knew that this incident was not what EQ was warning me about! That is to be revealed, yet, if at all.
I cleaned everything up (I think), and changed the jammie-bottoms with my other pair, and hun the old ones to dry. Then, my enthusiasm, will-power and energy drained, I got settled very early into the £300, second-hand, cringingly beige-coloured recliner. Although I was sure I would not be able to stay awake to watch it, I still put on DVD, ‘Hello I’m Alan Partridge’ Well fatigued, I drifted of within minutes.
After another dream involving my past failures and embarrassments, and I can recall bits of this. I put (in the daymare) “I shall not disclose these events, they were private and of a nature that was not revealable to avoid more embarrassment for me” The internet went crazy with people for all over the world demanding I tell all? I can’t recall, but I’m sure I did not do so. Hehe! Worra lucid, real-feeling dream!
I woke up and wrote some scribbled notes about the dream on my pad. Then, looked at the clock, it showed 3:30, for a while I thought it was in the morning, and I’d slept for over 12 hours! A moment or to later I acclimatised my brain (as much as is possible) and realised I had only been akip for two hours, and it was the afternoon. The day being so dark fooled me. (A searched for excuse, Haha!)
Then I saw that the DVD was still playing, (Or I’d hit the remote that lay between my legs and turned it back on) so turned it off, and considered getting up to do the handwashing. But nodded off again, and this time it was for nine-hours or so! I woke at midnight!
21:55hrs: I stirred and pondered on what day and time it was, then got both the wee-wee and Porcelain Throne needs from the innards. I was wobbly and unsteady after I got up[ from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner. I took a few moments to assess the situation, but not too long, bearing in mind the need for the Porcelain Throne. Arthur Itis and new toothache coming on were the only worryable things. Arthur Itis calmed down a bit pretty quickly once I grabbed the stick and started moving.
The Throne session was not a good one. Massive, slow and messy with a surprising amount of discomfort. At least it gave me a chance to have a go at the crossword. It was painful when I stood up after so long sat with bent knees. Arthur Itis wasn’t happy about it at all. I recalled bits of a horrible dream I’d had, a bully of a shop manager kept throwing me out, and threatening me with the sack?
A clean-up, and off to the kitchen. I got the kettle on and took the medications. Glad to see there was no fog this morning. I took a terrible shaky shot of the view outside. One of my worserer ones, for Shaking Shaun, was enjoying himself in alliance with Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, making sure that the right leg, shoulder, arm and hands were rattling away shaking like a good un!
As I was making the tea, another call for a wee-wee arrived! The knees were really giving me some gip now. The flipping wee-wee was aright sprinkler and a long one! I had to clean the same places as ten-minutes or so ago! Tsk! But at least I had bottles of antiseptic disinfectant to use.
I had a look at the knees, and liberally applied the Phorpain Gel and rubbed it in well. The legs looked alright to me. The knees were today’s problem, talk about stiff, and the, stabbing pains came unexpectedly and had gone in seconds, but repeatedly so. Not good this.
The fingers were tingling and a tad annoying. Obviously, the neurotransmitter’s were not connecting again. I nearly dropped the milk, then the tea mug.
Then to the computer. What a farce with the contact-nerves and this new to me, tingling in the finger ends, and the shoulder shaking, it was most annoying and bothersome. A bloody good job there wasn’t a lot left to do on the blog, or I would have still been here tonight! Typing was not easy at all, the mistakes that needed correcting were multitudinous! I like that word!
As I sat there working on the computer, Arthur Itis moaned every time I had to get up for a wee-wee. And that was very regularly. So, a quick assessment: Arthur Itis was playing up, and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete too. The feet were hurting, well stinging every trip to the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket. And there were plenty of them! The growing toothache was getting a little more painful. Saccades-Sandra had now joined in making typing almost impossible! As if the fingers weren’t enough! The right shoulder was shaking that much, it began to ache, as well as giving its contribution to the ‘Let’s bugger-up Inchcock Today’, ailment army! Things were not going to be good today. I think the EQ knows this and is avoiding sending me any messages? Humph!
I struggled on, taking three times as long as I should have, and perused the WordPress Reader. Then went of the TFZer Facebooking. Put some photos on Pinterest.
And then… I only need the Porcelain Throne again! Arthur Itis is now as mad as he has ever been with me. This is not good! And I have to keep getting up for a wee-wee! They were all, up to now, of the PLSE (Persistent-Long-Spraying-Everywhere) style! Which some else to fret about, I just cannot control the evacuations at all. Just keep kitchen towels and disinfectant nearby to use, and a tube of Phorpain gel for Arthur’s knees. I think it’s fair to say, a modicum of depression is building up! The pins (legs) looked the same pot-mark-wise as earlier, but they seem to be getting a smidge more colour? Just a couple of more blood-papules. I’ll recheck them after the ablutions are done, this is a rarity! Hahaha!
I’ve got the winter coat and new crock-pot being delivered today, from Amazon. I dare not use the old cooker anymore now. The porcelain pot is well cracked, I could have bought a new slow-cooker, I suppose, but this one is such a bargain, it probably cost me less than a replacement dish would have? Hehe! Laughter? Me? Why?
I finished the Thursday blog in the end. About half-way through, much to my utter surprise and amazement, Saccades-Sandra and Arthur Itis eased off! The shaking shoulder, arm and hand are still with, but, not to look a gift-horse in the mouth, this was a pleasant backasswards event. But it could be one of fate’s misleading, cunning plans, though? Giggle!
I had to absquatulate for a wee-wee, this was a bit different, of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painful) style. I got the grey bucket emptied, rinsed and sanitised, and decided to get the handwashing done. Going to be a slow job getting the jammie-bottoms dry. The socks and long-sleeve t-shirt will be okay, being thinner.
Then, off to get the ablutions done. I had to do them I thought, in case the Amazon stuff arrives early. I’d already stripped off, but I went to check on the Amazon tracker. It seems that the three items are being delivered by different parties. I looked up each one, and this is the soonest one that will arrive, and that’s not even out for delivery yet! Oh, heck! It appears I shall possibly have to stay awake until near to or on, the 22:00hrs deadline?
The ablutions were started properly this time. And it was a good session… until it came to towelling off! (There’s alway something, Hehe!) During doing the teggies, shaving and showering, I only dropped a few things; The razors (3), carbolic soap, toothbrush, antiseptic Dettol bottle (which didn’t break or split), and the showerhead. I even managed to clean some of the wall tiles! Great improvement there!
However… when I started to dry myself off, I knocked just about everything off of the floor cabinets, as I got carried away aggressively towelling myself. Spittling-Splurging-Sparrowhawks! Another half an hour lost, picking up the things and cleaning the place again!
But the Whoopsies didn’t end there, oh no! Muggins here, went into the kitchen to check on the handwashing hanging up. Reached up to test how dry the socks had got, knocked the hanger off of the pole, grabbed at the socks, and knocked knives, fork spoons, spatulas, plastic tubs, none-blister medications etc. onto the floor. Needless to say, a tub of medications (Saccade-Sandra’s spray) rolled underneath the fridge! I spent ten minutes or so searching for the picker-upperer, so I could retrieve the bottle. All this time, forgetting entirely that I had left it in the wet room, from when I used it fifteen minutes or so, ago, to reach and retrieve the Corticosteroid and Savlon cream tubes! What a Shmegegge, Schmo and Schmuck!
It got worse! I fetched stick from the wet room and got down to prod out the spray, which I can claim to have done with relative ease… But getting back up again was a farcical, yet, funny event. I’d had the sense to take the four-pronged stick with me, and used it to help gain a hold onto, to lift my belly with other smaller appendages, back up again? Of course, I did in the end. But what a struggle! “Humph”
I took the black, and recycling bags down to Caretaker Stewart room. We shared some Rabelaisian humour, handed over the nibbles, and then returned to the flat, and checked to see how far on the Tracker had gone. Perhaps he’s having his dinner? The driver who is taking it to the dispatch place, I wonder where that is? Bit it is still hours away from there, then someone has to come to Nottingham with the stuff. It’s going to be hard to stay awake. Oh, dearie me! Dangwangles and damn!
I went back on CorelDraw, to have another go at doing some graphics. Between wee-wees, mugs of milk and Dizzy Dennis, I got one, just one done. I had to give up computerisationing.
Jenny phoned me on the landline, the window cleaner was on his way. So I had to move all the stuff off of the kitchen window ledge again. Grumps!
The chap arrived, and we had a laugh and gossip while he did the windows for me. He had to remind me that he wanted payment for his work. Ahem!
I had a wee-wee and rechecked the legs. All looked good, odd size pins again, and getting pale once more. Dizzy Dennis still a little pestering! Oh, just noticed some more blood papules coming up on the right (and heavier, bigger) leg.
The Amazon stuff was still awaited, but they are getting closer now. But with it now gone my head-down time, I was getting more and more fatigued, and struggling to stay awake. Rechecked the tracker, they now have a disclaimer of sorts on there; “Estimated delivery windows may change due to traffic and other conditions. Check back for updates!” I see! So I might get to sleep by the time for my getting up! There is little chance of staying awake much longer – pee’d-off! The first ETA of 15:00>1700hrs has now gone to 17:00>19:00hrs. Lucky bugger, I am!
The intercom flashed, and I let-in the driver! The young man looked well-drained. He placed the larger looking than I expected crock-pot box and bag with the coat inside the door for me, and had to shoot off.
All but done in, I left the things where they were. No meal or eating. I got a bottle of orange from the fridge and settled down in the rickety, second-hand, c1968 recliner. So tired!
But an amalgamation of dreams, Colin Cramps, Anne Gyna and the loudest ever heard from ‘The Hum’,(The Hum is a phenomenon, or collection of events, involving widespread reports of a persistent and invasive low-frequency humming, rumbling, or droning noise not audible to all people. Hums have been widely reported by national media in the UK and the United States), ensured another session of sleep-deprivation followed for a few hours. After about four hours, and waking for a wee-wee, I decided to give up, I’d got up, anyway.
