Sunday 15th September 2019
Italian: Domenica 15 Settembre 2019
03:10hrs: I stirred into a replica of real life, and the need for a wee-wee (As is usual recently), arrived. I escaped the clutches of the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged while he was flat-sitting, when I was in hospital, as he fitted new CCTC cameras, and searched for my valuables, which he found and regretlessly took, (I still haven’t got them back yet, four-months later), £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and ridiculously, relentlessly rotting-away recliner.
I Took the few dodgy steps to the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) and had a rather pathetic, weak, approximate quantity, no more than four-fluid-ounces of an INHBT (I-needn’t-have-bothered-trickling) wee-wee. The stomach was still feeling tight, with the odd escapage of wind, amidst the rumblings from within. It’s been about 42-hours since any Throne evacuations. Oh dear!
I got a potato in the crock-pot for me later, one in the saucepan for Josie, and got some peas podded.
The potato in the saucepan was soon losing its skin, which was a good sign, so I lowered the heat on it to a minimum level the stove 
would let me.
A lot of the peas still had the fur inside the pods, so I had to take care and avoid using them. So many peas shot off all over the place, I think I spent more time searching for them and retrieving the few that managed to find. Bit of a 
farce, the podding was this morning!
I took a picture through the open thick-framed, light and view-blocking kitchen window. That turned out to be one of my worst ever. I’ve no idea what I did wrong? Unknowingly the shaking hand, I assume, might have affected things? I moved the handwashing onto the airer, and had yet another INHBT mode wee-wee!
I spotted one of the escapee peas on the stove as I was leaving to get the computer on to do the updating, but where the other estimated eleven peas had gone… Well?
I got my nose-to-the-grindstone and got on with the updating. With my late awakening, due to not being able to get to sleep last night, and the Peripheral Neuropathy affected fingers losing some degree of sensitivity when they contacted anything hard, making typing such an ever-mistake making process. It took me a good few hours to get the task completed! Luckily, the Axonotmesis affected leg, did not do any of its imitations of the Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dancing! Although the shoulder did go into its ‘Jij-jig’ routine a few times.
By the time I’d got it all finished and posted off, I felt like it ought to be time to get my head down. Humph! I went to make a brew, before starting on creating the graphics for today’s blog.
It was getting lighter out. But, the moon was still showing occasionally through the clouds.
I got the drink and began on CorelDrawing.
I had nearly got them graphic almost all done; the top Brexit Humour, the thought of the day and the Days dedicated to picture, and I realised that I had not started any prep work for Josie’s cheesy potato meal. I got on with getting the large potato from the saucepan, and into the mixing bowl. Cut it up into small pieces and removed the larger pieces of skin. Added the shredded Leicester cheese to the spuds. Then some butter, onion salt and malt vinegar. I must have spent about half-an-hour mashing it all up together. The hands didn’t play up much, I’m glad to say. Got shaped and into the oven. Back to the computer to make a start on this post.
Sister Jane rang, and we had a natter that I enjoyed. I thought about asking for my valuables back. But the only time I mentioned it before, Pete said they were too heavy to carry. Presumably, they were the same weight when he took them? Haha! He is a rascal!
I stopped computing and got the plate laid out, ready for the presentation display for Josie to enjoy. I got the beetroot, gherkins and sliced part of the Italian-Bull tomato in the slicer, and them onto her plate with the cutlery wrapped in a kitchen towel. I bet she wakes me again by returning them late? Still, she does it every Sunday, so I’ll just have t put up with it Hehehe!
I got the cheesy potatoes out of the oven, all nicely crispified now. Added the fresh pod peas and some mousse to the plate and tray then got it on the wheeled server and was delivered to Josie’s door, ringing the bells at 11:58hrs, The potatoes were still hot. I’m never far off of the 12:00hrs target-time. She was a good time in answering. When she arrived, she said she was on the phone. She liked the look of the nosh, though. And that cheered me up. I wished her happy nibbling and returned to the flat.
I got the black bags sorted, and took them with me to the chute, on my way to the Winwood Court rooftop to have a nosey around and take some pictures.
I poddled along the link-passage corridor, to the Winwood Court elevator. I didn’t see a living soul on the way. I got up to the beautiful, warm, cosy, well set-up leisure lounge they have. No one was in there. So I had a mini-hobble about with the three-wheeler guide and took a few photographicalisations.
I spent about twenty-minutes pottering about. I’d hoped someone would arrive, for me to have a natter too. But no! The felt on the roof was still leaking
I popped into the big lounge downstairs. Again, there was no one free for a gossip!
As I started to walk back through the link-passage, four blokes came in the foyer, and went to the new laundry room? On a Sunday? They were not wearing overalls! Mmm? They looked responsible types. But so did Lord Lucan!
I made my way to the Woodthorpe end on the passage. And turned round to see if I could see the suspicious ganglet of men, but I couldn’t. Incertitude swelled up inside of me.
I wished I’d taken a photo of them now!
I got back up to the apartment and got back on the computer.
It was nearly 15:00hrs, and I would have liked to have got stripped off, and get the handwashing done, and then my head down. But Josie has not returned the things yet. She may or may not return them today, but it is usually late, for me, when she does. It doesn’t matter, but I dare not go to sleep to be woken up in the nude again.
So, I had to force myself to do some more graphics and templates, even though I wasn’t up to at this time of day for me. Oh, I am awkward!
But the weary tiredness, and as I got more so, the hands started playing up, and I even had a mini Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dance from the right leg!
I gave up. Graphics still not even started, let alone done!
I got my meal sorted out. The tomato-slicer was not quite big enough to cut the last chunk of the Bull Tomato, so I… ‘Carefully’ used the steak knife, to slice it. It looked very odd inside, with 
very little juice. But the flavour was spot on!
The beetroots, so-called, Baxter’s Baby Beetroots, were extremely large and so hard! But, all the rest was fine and tasty. Enough to give it a Flavour-Rating of 7.9/10.
18:00hrs: I was just finishing it off, and the door-chimes rang-out! Josie was returning the things from her nosh. She said she’d enjoyed it, and gave me a chocolate eclair. Bless her! At least with my staying up late, for once I wasn’t woken up. Haha!
I got the pots washed, and settled down in the £300, c1968 rickety-recliner, the one broken by Brother-inLaw Pete when he was burgling the flat when I was in the Stroke ward in the hospital.
All I wanted was some sleep. It took such a long time coming again! “Sleep, sweet Morpheus, sleep…”
I opted to go and get the handwashing wrung-out and hung. Argh! A toe-stubbing of a particularly sensitive nature was taken en route. What a Klutz of a Schmendrick! 
I hung the shirt above the heater. Got the kettle on and took the medications. While doing this, I decided I’d have BBQ seasoned rice and bacon for the meal later. Then I got on with updating the Friday post. Which, with many, (All of the INHBBT variety) wee-wees, and stoppages for a false alarm Porcelain visit. I’m nervous after yesterdays blockage. 
I got the peas in the saucepan, but unfortunately, I left the heat on and not realised! I went back to computerisationing for about two hours, and the smell of burning, made me jumped up and rush to the kitchen… 
Stubbing the same toe again on the way! Grrr! 
The saucepan had in it a grand selection of my favourites for me to feast on! Uncle Ben’s BBQ flavour rice. Burnt until they had black spots on the fresh garden peas! Plenty of tomato slicer-sliced brown Sicilian tomatoes. Smoked streaky bacon rashers. 
silverskin onions, & some tip-top, but expensive Morrison’s 45% balsamic vinegar. 
As I was cleaning the equipment, I was like a proper deipnosophist; but talking only to myself. (Well I would, with no one else about. Hehe!) The subjects mused-over were of no particular value, importance or even interest.
Not to mention the NCH’s plumbers giving me the floods, and my having to throw away my clothing from the soaked-through airing cupboard and buy new ones. 
The new intercom set-up, which came with instruction photographs that were different than the actual ones in layout. 
The NCH bloke, who filled the air vent, left, I went out to the Doctors for my INR Warfarin blood test. When I returned, the foam had run down the wall and covered my electric socket, and turned as hard as iron and browny-red. Now the plug outlet can’t be used, for fear of electrocution! Even murderers don’t have to live with this threat!
03:00hrs: I stirred, and blenched the moment I tried to move. By Jiminy, RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis) was giving me so much bother in the knees. To be expected, mind, with yesterday’s Accifauxpas! I laid there a while, to praise the NCH gals, who rescued me from the floor. 
Made a start on this diary then. After another couple of hours, I went to make a brew.
that Nottingham City Homes has invested.
five baking potatoes for £2, and 2lb of peas for £3. 
I took the route through the link-passage into the Winwood Court. The exit door was still not opening. 
interrogation cell. Deana said it does work; she used it yesterday. We went to check. And the green press button, which is identical as all the other link-tunnel doors, but this door only needs pushing after pressing the knob, and doesn’t 
open automatically like all the other ones do! 
next door but one neighbour, Malcolm, was in his shorts and asleep out there, doing his best to get skin cancer. 
Washed up well, and got the fodder and the bought products away. 
But, and however, the innards were rumbling, grumbling, with an uncomfortably-continuos dull, but sharp, aching pains from within. This I put down to the extremely rich flavoured Gastro lamb moussaka, that I foolishly added a lot Leicester cheese, and many of the strong-tasting brown tomatoes too, on top of the plate. I do get carried away, sometimes! I must try to control my gustatory and allotriophagy desires from now on. 
The sky and moon looked so wonderful, I took a picture of it before the clouds hid the planet again.
I got on with the updating of yesterdays blog. It took a while again, but not due to Mr ($19m annual salary plus expenses) Fries, lousy internet service. Rather, it was a large number of photographs.
I’m back, and not wrong about ablution wishes. Only two-dropsies, a razor, and the toothpaste tube. Smug Mode Adopted! The plates-of-meat felt a lot better after the shower.
Salvation came perfectly timed! The door chime rang out. I shouted as loud as I could “Come in, please!” several times. Which the two Nottingham City Homes girl visitors eventually did. 
If the girls had not arrived at the time they did, I would have had to press the button in the wristlet. Bless them for their kindness and understanding! I thanked them both as they departed. My concentration and
I went out on the balcony and took a photograph of the much-love and missed Tree Copse. By Gawd, the wind was blowing so strongly now. 
I wonder if I’ll ever be fit enough to have a walk through the Copse again? The mind pondered over how lucky I had been earlier, and the excellent timing of the NCH (Nottingham City Homes) ladies arrival! So, there, I do have good luck occasionally! Hahaha!
Got the oven heating up. Updated this blog for a while, then got the nosh sorted. Sausage sarnies and tomatoes on Polish sliced sourdough bread. 
It turned out to be a session on the crossword book, with the occasional painful but unsuccessful heave and pushing… But I had to surrender and gave up. There was plenty that wanted to come, but I assume that Constipation Conrad was the reason for my failure to pass owt. I considered taking a tablet, or sachet of crystals to move things. But I decided to wait a bit. 
I washed the hands and got the nearly cold by now mug of tea, and went and got the computer going. I put the appointment made last night when I was woken up, for the questionnaire, interview, telling-off, update or, whatever it is I am having or being given on Thursday, with Nichola.
Excellent session with the ablutions. Only two dropsies as I can recall. The first one being the plastic bottle of drain-unblocker, which fortunately didn’t split open. Phew! The other one, a razor. 
I got to the Wardens Holding & Interrogation Cell, handed some nibbles out, had a little natter, then out through the Windwood Court foyer onto Chestnut Walk. 
I got out of facing the sun and took this much betterer photo of Windwood Court. The shadow from the Chestnut tree looked rather good, and added something to the outcome, I thought. The pods will be forming soon, and then no doubt dropping, to give us something extra to struggle through with our disabled scooters, shopping bags on wheels and walkers. Hehe! 
At the top, I had to rest for a while. The CIDP was taking its toll on me. But I was soon back into life, and found myself under a tree, looking up at the Chestnuts forming. The wind was blowing a bit, but I managed to take a half-decent shot of them, zoomed-in. 
I hobbled through the twitchel, and came out the other end, to take this picture of the fantastic sky. 
to the Health Centre and the podiatrists. 
To my delight, the shop owner had some fingers in stock. Well, only one packet, but I bought it to add to the four packs I bought from Tesco on Tuesday. They were the same price as at Tesco as well. I asked him if he would be having some more in stock next week? He took a photo of the fingers on his mobile phone and said he’d get some if available. I can’t ask for more than that from him. I also bought a pack of Twist Baqar Khani fingers. I’ve not the foggiest idea what that they are or might be, but they looked highly edible, to me.
So tired-out. I had to give up on the computing and got the meal started. I considered using the £4 Sicilian Red Bull’s Heart Tomato in the ready-made Lamb Moussaka. But decided against it, this might be best used sliced in a sarnie! Although, i
I got the handwashing done and hung to dry, while the fodder was cooking. 
The head was getting me more pain now! Just thought I’d mention it. 
The top room was not being used. Shame, it is lovely comfortable and snuggly warm in there, too. A delight to have for the new tenants, a giant crossword was partly done on one of the tables.
I came back down in the lift. No one about. 
Nor, in the elevator, or on the twelfth-floor lobby. When I went into the lightless hallway to the three flats that share that corner, I almost had to feel my way along to find the door. Haha! 
This is the Soulfood vegetarian chilli, with the added vinegar, brown tomatoes and black bean sauce, that was the evening nosh. The chunk of Polish Sourdough, and a mini-bottle of fresh orange juice. This scrumptious, delectable, highly palatable feast was all eaten up. Amidst the belching and passing of wind afterwards, I thought it deserved a favour rating of 9.3/10! 
This began the seemingly never-ending tormenting series of humiliations, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and frustrations! Unexpectedly, the wee-wee was of the BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) style. Which involved me having an annoying struggle to get things cleaned up afterwards! I turned into a fervid panegyric, as I spent what felt like time-immemorial, cleansing myself, and the surrounding items. Silently (mostly), waffling, carping on and complaining to myself about my recent Whooopsiedangleploop infestation and suffering with so many reverses. The waking up feeling in better spirits didn’t last long! 
Well, well, well! I do feel a fool for writing all that doom-ladened stuff about the ablutions, now! 
and mayonnaise with the brined tuna. I had the pleasure of using the new tomato-slicer for Josie’s plate. Got the arrangement for the plate laid out, leaving space for the cheesy potatoes to go on last, so they will keep warmer longer.
I spilt some juice out of the slicer-tray on the floor. Bent down to wipe it up, and clouted my head on the cooker! A bad one this was. I think I hit somewhere near where I clonked my head when I fell off of the stepladder trying to get up to do the windows the other day, cause it stung something rotten! It has been aching ever since. Tsk! 
I took a few minutes to unwind, then got the potatoes out of the oven, and onto the plate. Got it all done, and delivered it to the gals door. Josie didn’t answer until I was going back in the flat, she’d been on the phone talking to family. At least she was alright, I handed her the nosh, explained about the mayonnaise and tomato slicer being used, but I don’t think she could hear me properly. But she gave me a smile, thanked me, and I returned to the bomb-site… I mean kitchen! I got it cleaned up eventually, and then, I decided I’d have a hobble into Sherwood, to try and get some decent tomatoes and flakey pastry fingers, I should be able to get the fingers from the Ozan shop.
Out, to Ozan’s in Sherwood, in search of flaky-pastry finger biscuits, tomatoes. 
As I set off along Chestnut Walk, it seemed that all the other tellurians apart from me had relinquished their occupancy. 
downhill, especially on the uneven ground, it needed a good bit of controlling. But I avoided any Accifaupaxs or tumbles. Smug-Mode-Engaged! 
Paid for them, thanked the man, and exited to begin the uphill-hobble back to the flats. No buses on a Sunday. 
They really were so beautiful.
I walked along Chestnut Way, then into the Winwood Court entrance, and along the linking passage without seeing a soul. I hate weekends! 
I had to fight off the heavy eyelids as I put the bits away and prepared the meal.
Mind you, the nut was throbbing away!
I got the trolley and myself all ready, forgetting to take the black bags I made up in the kitchen and left, to find the three-flats foyer in darkness. The new light put in by the same electricians who cut my power for nine-hours, when putting in the Fire-Alarm sprinkler system I’ve little confidence in them working!) Not the NCH men who gave me the floods and destroyed my clothing in the airing cupboard, that people are even less interested in than my Doctor is in missing my Warfarin blood tests. They probably don’t even know it’s happened. I can’t get through on the phone to them. Oh, I’m getting niggly again! 
I wobbled through the cut-through pas
The highlight of my mini-hobble home came as I got on the main road. 
really. As I was trying to get up, a bloke who’d stopped his came over and asked if I was alright. Another humanitarian gesture! I thanked him and said I was fine, thank you. 
blowing through the holes in the wall and floor, courtesy of the builders and repairmen… still, you can’t expect it sound just like inside your Woodthorpe Court flat, can you?
I got in the apartment. No wee-weeing, no Porcelain Throne requirements, no new ailments acquired. Apart from a little bruise on the head still there from my falling off the stepladder earlier, and an even smaller injury-come-graze, on the knee, from the mini-fall on the road. 
I got on with updating this blog, for hours, but the finger-ends were making it slow work. Eventually, the CIDP won, and I gave up working on the computer. 
I got the dressing gown on sharpish, and the door chime rang out. Guess who it was? It was the tomato slicer delivery from Amazon, that was due to arrive on Sunday. I thanked the lady and took the box into the kitchen and had a look at the slicer. 
I got the handwashing done and hung. 
Bulgaria Euro qualifying match. When I say stayed awake, I mean mostly. Half-time I drifted off.But came back to life when the match restarted.
It was of the CMOUSTSTBO (catching-me-out-unwilling-slow-to-start-then-blasting-out) mode! I cleaned up the back-splashed spray from the floor, sink, cupboard door, and then from myself. 
However, the slipper mystery developed somewhat. After another ferret-around for the missing one, I now have three odd slippers? Ah, the Mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court, continue! 
As Sister Jane commanded, I mean suggested, I made my way to and through the slab square to try the Lakeland store for a slicer. 
I walked back through the unkempt city centre, where the workers were dismantling the amusements, ready for the next money-making scheme, a foods of the world theme thing I think. 
ad to battle falling asleep for most of the journey, but failed and did just before the bus arrived at the flats. Klutz! 
I walked back through the connecting-passageway. Not a soul in sight. 
I got the nosh sorted. Even as I got down to tuck into the fodder, the knees and back were in a painful condition. Poor old sausage! Haha! 
Back down again in the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged £300, second-hand, gungy-beige coloured, recidivating and rotting-away recliner, and put the goggle-box on to watch a Rumpole of the Bailey on Freeview channel 48.
