Saturday 18th April 2020
Filipino: Sabado 18 Abril Abril 2020
03:15hrs: I woke up, with the theme tune, “Life, is the name of the game, and I wanna play the game with you” ringing in my head? It took me a while to recall where the tune was from.
It was the introduction to Bruce Forsyth’s Generation Game. What brought this to mind, I don’t know. But I do remember watching it all those years ago and being amazed at how much work Bruce put into it to make it work. My favourite Game Show of them all on TV.
On the radio, it was Just a Minute, with host Nicholas Parsons, Clement Freud, Kenneth Williams, Derek Nimmo, and Peter Jones, they were my preferred panellists. Two shows I hated to miss, and the reason for my buying my first tape recorder and DVD. Ah, they were the days!
I seem to remember getting home and putting the motorbike away in a rush, to get in and my new colour TV (Wigfalls 3/6d [17½p] a week rental) on to watch it. Happy Days! The Larry Grayson and Jim Davidson efforts at hosting the later shows, were as expected, abysmal. I just thought I’d mention it, like.
As I lay there, hearkening back to my more confident, happy and in good health days, the stomach-churning burst into life. Thus the one thing that mattered (I thought at the time), was to escape the £300, second-hand, none-working, c1968, rickety recliner, catch my balance and stick, to get to the wet room lickety-split! Which, I surprised myself in doing quickly and accident-free, Slight swagger mode adopted (Temporarily).
I shall not go into too much detail of the terrible, trying, tantamount to agony-ridden evacuation. But Constipation Conrad had the upper-hand in the battle. I was on the Throne for about 20-minutes. The crossword book as tackled. Blood flowed. And all with the one line of the ‘the Generation Game’ milling about in my head. Hehe!
Then, as I made my way to the kitchen, Toothache Terence kicked off. Soon to be joined by Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. And extra Cocodamol was taken with the Codeine and other medications. For about five minutes, the mind-haze and memory loss had me worried. I was so close to pressing the alarm wristlet, thinking what can tell them, how do I explain what I’m going through without sounding potty? I was so pleased when things seemed suddenly to go back to my usual, merely semi-confused state. Yet, puzzled to how quickly and abruptly, things changed again.
Of course, this triggered the fretting all over again, it always does when I have a memory blank, even a short couple of minutes one like this; I just had to check things, taps, lights, stove, door. When I got to the hallway, I found two letters on the floor.
One double-sided A4 from Citycare. I p[ointed out their plans an dedication to making sure we are all safe and instructed us what to do if we have any of the symptoms of the COVID-19 (Coronavirus). We have to call 0300 131 0300 – Option 1, then Option 5, between 0830am to 1700hrs pm, Monday to Friday. Being as it is Saturday morning now, I hope I do not get any symptoms for two days.
They also kindly gave us a 107 digit email address to use. That’s a guess at the number, cause Saccades-Sandra is playing up and I can’t focus properly to read it. Luckily, Saccades and other ailments I have are not sufficient to get me a weekly food parcel. So, I shall be of no bother to them. And am so glad that Nottinghamshire County Council, have supplied Sister Jane and hubby Pete with a delivered box of food weekly. Jane told me this while she was out shopping for eggs, bacon and some wine. They didn’t take the car or electric bike with them, that remained in the new garage at the mansion on the tree-lined avenue, with the eleven CCTV cameras, burglar alarms, pressure alarm pads and wine cellar. But, I’m contented in my three-roomed flat and being isolated and unable to get food.
Shame I don’t qualify for a weekly food parcel, but there you are. I’ll just stay here, with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters dying and Peripheral Neuropathy making me have accidents and dropping things, scolding myself etc., Mechanical Aorta valve replacement, Hernia Harold, Burgabasia-Bernie, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Stuttering Stephany, Anne Gyna, Rheumatoid Arthur Itis, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding away accompanied my Haemarrahoid Harold, Fluid Retention Robert, Furesomide induced wee-wees, Craig Cramps, Dizzy Dennis, Back-Pain-Brenda, falling over when I get an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance from Neuropathic Nigel’s right leg, Conrad Constipation, Reflux Valve Roger sticking, Prediabetes Petunia demands, injecting Enoxaparin in my tummy, battling and getting injured by the Sock-glide, coping with the memory blanks, and picking at the bloodied scars from Clopidogrel Clive’s growths on my legs.
As I said, at least I don’t qualify for a food parcel, like others who have cars, wealth, health and the nerve to accept their food parcels. At least I have Jenny ♥ keeping her eye on me, and others, and a caretaker who brought me a bottle of bleach when he heard I couldn’t get enough.
But, it doesn’t bother me at all! Tsk! Hehehe!
I made a start on checking Emails and went to check up on the latest Coronavirus statistic.
Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at just the wrong, the most inopportune time!
The right hand did one of its as yet rare, shooting off in varying directions, just as I was typing. The bout merely lasted a few seconds.
But it was long enough for me to get this these two windows to appear on the computer screen!
I don’t know what the fingers or hand hit to get these up, but it frit me I can tell yers!
Being a computer workings idiot is not easy. Becoming one was!
I thought I’d buggered it up now! Understanding things, working out what it was on the screen was beyond me.
Fear of losing the computer and depression took over the mind for a minute or two.
I closed the windows and sighed muchly with relief when things 
seemed to be working okay.
Maybe, if things ever get back to normal, I might be able to find a college or something that runs courses on understanding the workings of a computer. What am I thinking? with my memory? And the courses will be night ones! And Nicodemus’s nerve-ends are dying anyway, so are not going to get any better, only worse, which means I’ll have to eventually give up computing all together, that hurts!
I continued to search for the virus figures. I don’t think they are anything to get too hopeful about yet.
I went to make a mug of Glengettie and came out of the doldrums a little. Especially as I made the brew, without any spills, shakes or nerve-end interference. That was a nice change.
Then, carrying the tea into the junk room, I dropped the mug! I was so low in spirits, it didn’t seem to bother me much. I just cleaned up the mess, thinking how lucky I was in not breaking the cup.
I was determined to pull myself from the darkness.
The cold sunshine went in, and a tiny few spots of a shower fell. It lasted only for a minute or so. I carefully made another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. Then took a couple of pictures of Chestnut Walk. There was still an earthy petrichor smell already, which was lovely.
A couple of free parking spaces, and no illegal parking at this end of the walk, ah, Saturday innit! Oh, I just noticed there was a bit of naughty parking on the double yellow lines. I think they have wisely decided to ignore this activity, with us having so few spaces available.
At long last, I got the updating started for the Friday blog. Soon got it finished, thanks to Nicodemus being kind, and despite Shaking Shaun doing his best to knobble my typing. Haha!
The rear-end wind continues to plump and plop, but not foul-smelling. Ah, I must take a mug of Macrogol first. If Colin Cramps lets me, he’s having another bash at the poor old fingers now. Dangwangles!
Checked the comments. Then some bits on Pinterest. Next, the WordPress Reader. Then onto TFZer Facebooking. Then I tried to get an Iceland order in, but no luck, slots unavailable. Even if they were, I can still only be allowed one bottle of bleach. Nowhere near enough for a week for me. Thankfully, Robert, our caretaker brought me a bottle that’s getting me through for a few days.
Much CorelDrawing, making graphics for the blog tomorrow.
Mental fatigue made me leave the CorelDrawing.
I got the handwashing sorts out. Dressing gown, jammie bottoms and socks. All done, wrung and hung. I put the gown to hang in the wet room.
Got the ablutions done. No sock-glide confrontation, I left the bamboo socks off. The dropsies were a little higher than of late, that would be due to Nicodemus’s nerve-ends not sending any contact messages to the brain. At times this can get confusing and so frustrating. Especially when folks say, ‘Just be careful!’ Looking 
at me as if I’m an idiot.
Which is true! Haha! Because the neurotransmitters fail to tell the brain, as they come on and off-line variably and at their will.
The shaving produced a few tiny nicks, nowt serious. Little Inchies lesion had bled only a few spits, again, no hassle; even the applying of the Cortiscord cream was not too painful. Which was a nice change for me!
I got the nosh sorted out. Chicken breast, and tried the weirdly named Iceland fries, branded as ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’. They were okay. The chicken breasts were a bit rubbery. Some seaweed crispies and an apple on the side on another plate. Two mini-Vienesse lemon cakes. No, that’s what they are called. I went to look at the part empty box. Lemon Whirls. A can of the delightfully tangy Clementine drink, too.
Ate it all, and I’d had my fill. Oh, the apple was awful, soft, dry! Never mind. A Flavour Score of 6/10.
I went to do the washing up and espied some dogs taking their owners for a walk in the bottom field.
I wish I could have a cat here in the flat, but I can understand the impracticality of it fully. I can take tumbles easily enough now, with the dizzies and neuropathic dancing legs, Arthur Itis… and a multitude of others with a ‘Let’s-Have-Inchcock-all-over-fancying’ nature. Imagine me having a pet to fall over as well! Hehehe! But it’s still sad making.
I got down in the Zyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and pilfering my money, recliner.
I watched a film all the way to the end; but with perhaps about fifteen few-minute nod-offs in between. Waste of time, I couldn’t follow the plot.
I lay afterwards, trying to ignore the rampant Thought-Storms, mostly of guilt, self-hatred, and isolation problems.
I must have nodded off eventually, cause I woke up in the morning! Hangalisationing Horror-time!
02:10hrs: I woke with two voices talking to me, both apparently, mine? One said “Sod-it, go back to sleep, soddum all!” the naughty me. The other, obviously a more conscientious me, said, “Don’t mess about, it takes you that long to get anything done nowadays, here is your chance to get caught up on your CorelDrawing, come on, gerrup!” 
I made the comments on WordPress and then went on the Reader Section. 
But this list above is not enough to get a food parcel. I’ll see if I can catch something else to add to these and try again. 
I went to make a start on prepping for the meal later. I got some canned potatoes in the saucepan, (Took them out of the can first, mind) and added some hoisin sauce and hickory.
I emptied the beef in onion into the pan with the potatoes. Unfortunately, Nocodemus’s nerve ends failed while I was pouring in the hickory, the whole lot tipped into the saucepan! I spent the next hour or so, keeping nipping in to extract some gravy and add boiling water, to weaken the juice. Boy, it was intense! Hehe! Another mess to clear up. Tsk! 
So I got the nosh sorted out. I had overdone it with spilling the hickory into the stew. I and to remove a lot of gravy and weaken it, before serving it up. But it was worth the effort, it tasted most delightful! The flavour rating was a worthy 8/10. 
Sleep had decided it would not return again, I’d upset it I think with keeping getting up. 
03:00hrs: I woke, and immediately started trying to solve the issues of the lost end of yesterday. I got nowhere, and am still none the wiser as to any actions for about a four hour period of Thursday evening. I spent a good while attempting to glean some memory, but no! The toothache began to come on, then.
As I made my way to the kitchen, the demand for the Porcelain Throne came, so I diverted to the wet room. A contrary session compared to the last few; Not much input needed from me, very swiftly evacuated, no overly putrid pongs, far less painful, but messy in the extreme. A lot of the preciously-short supply of toilet paper had to be used. Much cleaning and medicating and the PPs changed. Oh, and the bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion and Harolds Haemorrhoids was minuscule. 
But, foolishly I thought if I take care, it should be safe enough. (Klutz!) I got the steps from the balcony without any bother, set them in position. And climbed up just two of the runs, and took the second picture on the way down. (Talk about bad timing!) Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed, and an unintended no-control-over right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dance routine from the right leg for a few seconds only was enough to have me over on my back on the floor! Frumpworthy Grobblecurses! Still, it could have been worse. The tumble and landing were not too bad, but the getting back up again was painful and farcical. Good job I had the four-Pronger-stick with me at the time. Hey-ho!
It was getting light already. I went to make another brew, of Thompsons Punjana. And I decided to get some mushrooms sliced and into the slow cooker for later in the day. I used the last of the light soy sauce, and balsamic vinegar to flavour the fungi. I might use the tin of minced beef with it, or I have one of the cook-in-the-bag braised beef I could use. Then again, I have a can of chilli baked beans and potato wedges in the cupboard… Mmm? My shilly-shallying, indecisiveness, and mental-stammering, really wee’s me off! Oh, I don’t know! 
I took a break and went to make yet another brew, this time Glengettie. But I’m glad I did at that time. For outside, down on the bottom field, I saw a human being! Yes! Hehehe! 
I tried to get an Iceland delivery slot again. Fool!
One letter was about the apartment’s rent.
higher than usual, though. 
I got the washing in the sink done, wrung and hung. Got the veg and potatoes into a normal saucepan, tasted it, and added a little more light soy sauce, it was a bit bland. 
I got the meal served up and turned on the TV, anything with subtitles, so I don’t need the headphones on and fail to hear the door-chimes, intercom or telephone. 
I fou
01:00hrs: I woketh up, and soon realised, the moment I straightened the legs to move, that Rheumatoid Arthur Itis was back with a vengeance! Still, he has been very kind to me lately, now it’s payback time! The need for a wee-wee encouraged me to put up with the pain and remove my over-heavily stomach-burdened body from the second-hand, c1968 recliner. The GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket) was utilised, for a ferocious, vindicative HDTBS (Heavy-Duty-Torrential-But-Short) wee-wee. Again, oddly, stomach pains started after the release? 
T’was then that I felt the wet warm trickling on my leg! Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding again, but not too much. A cleaning up and medicationalisationing session was carried out in the wet room. 
Off to the kitchen, and got the kettle on. I took a blind shot of Chestnut Walk below. It had to be blind, thanks to the new kitchen windows fitted in the upgrading of the flats. That the Coronavirus has now put a stop to. The thick-framed, rain-letting in, light & view-blocking windows, with the ledge that sticks out too far 
for me to see what is below, Fire engines etc. or see anything to photograph without using the step-ladders, which usually ends up with an Accifauxpas and personal injury! But, still, it came out alright. 
Not even taking this photo of the fodder, nor eating it. So, I have no taste rating or comments to make on what it was like. And, how come I took such a decent photo if I was not in control of the brain-box at the time?
02:10ish hrs: I woke-up, passed wind from the rear-end. Then struggled to get out of the chair. The one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged. While he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. The £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working – but not today, uncomfortable, rickety, ready-for-recycling, rinky-dinked, rattling, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away rusty recliner. 
Where I noticed I had not cleaned up the area around where I knocked stuff over last night in my rushes to get to answer the phone. So a little clean up was performed, not a proper one, cause it was far too early to use the noisy hoover yet, and being as I didn’t have a quiet one, I didn’t. Hehe!
Got the oven on and nosh started. A chance to use up some dated items from the freezer. The fish fingers in breadcrumbs, substituted for battered ones by Iceland. Not very tasty, I think they may have been made with pond sticklebacks? The well-out-of-date Twiglets, the donated by a resident for me tomatoes were grand. The Halloumi sticks passable, and the beetroot, perfect! Overall, a Taste-Rating of 5/10. 
As expected, Sainsbury’s were out of stock of some things, some substituted. The caramelised biscuits with Caramel wafers, but at least I can hand them back for Jenny to use, or share later with the Wednesday gang when, if, it ever gets back online. No bread or cobs substituted. As to be expected, in the current climate. 
I put the things away, and spotted another tin in the tea cupboard! Of Pork Knuckle, Great! And, it’s still in date, only just, but still. Hehe! 
02:30hrs: I stirred into mock-life, and realised that just about everything attached to my wobbly-overweight stomach, was shaking to varying degrees. Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley was so bad, she was hitting my elbow on the recliner arm! Shaking Shaun had taken a fancy to the head and neck this morning. Worst perhaps, was Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failures were making it so difficult to sense anything hard, and getting up to respond to the urgent call to the Porcelain Throne was not easy! (The bonus, was, that there was no Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing from the right leg) 
After much faffling-about, I got on my feet, caught my balance, grabbed at the four-pronged walking stick, dropped it, bent down to pick it up and ‘Klunk’ down on my knees I went! Bearing in mind, the imperativeness of my getting to the Throne in time was increasing! Humph! I actually appreciated having the shakes from Nicodemus at the time, because there was hardly any pain at all when Arthur Itis’s patelas hit the floor! That usually come later, when the transmitter nerves start working again. Unnerving getting pains and you can’t see or remember why! 
The veins in the pins had started to protrude again. The varicose were not too bad, mind. The spider and 
While in there, I did the teggies and had a shave. And very pleased with how it went, considering that Shirley didn’t ever stop shaking, although she kept altering the rate of power. And I only had two tiny cuts after the session! Smug Mode Adopted! 
To the kitchen, and put some bits in a carrier, to give to Jenny when she comes. As a thank you for helping me out again. 
I dug out some chips from the bottom of the freezer. Got a pate and a few tomatoes left to have with them. 
The landline flashed, it was the Chemist, telling me the prescriptions would be at the door in a few minutes. I waited five or six minutes, not wanting to make social-contact with the lady, and carefully opened the door, making sure she had gone first and collected the pack from where she had left it for me. 
01:45hrs: I stirred into an ersatz version of life; feeling otiose, vague, and in need of a non-alcoholic potation. As I removed my horrendously ever-growing stomach with thin arms and legs attached to it, from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, the innards gurgled, I started coughing, and wind passed involuntarily from the rear end! 
I got the kettle on, took the medications, again dropping the Omeprazole capsule, and made a brew of Glengettie. Into the computer desk, and had a look at the two-page, side-effects of the Omeprazole’s leaflet. But there was so much of it, I gave up. 
I tried for the ninth time in 24hrs, to get a Morrison Grocery order done. Hehehe! What a hopeful, old, gullible, senile idiot, I am! 
I did a try at getting some food from Ocado. Another negative, no slots available!
The cobs will be perfect with my beans later! Onions and carrots, I’ve got some parsnips in reasonable nick, in the fridge. Tomorrow’s meal sorted thanks to the donator. That frees me from the worry of having to go out today! Bless whoever it was! Canned mushy peas, baked beans, sardines. A yoghourt that unfortunately has the lethal to me cranberries in it. Milk, lemonade, tomato puree, and some white bread. So kind of them! Oh, and a can of orange pieces, a perfect after for me! 
The landline flashed and sounded, I woke and fumbled my way to the phone. It was Jenny, helping me out again! She had miraculously got through to Iceland to give an order. And, as is her natural, considerate, obliging characteristics, she asked if I would like anything adding to the order for Saturday. If I email her back with anything, she will add it to her order. Not many folks would think of that, but Jenny is special. 
My body just wanted to sleep, but I wanted to get back to Jenny and thank her and give a little list of items she had kindly asked for me to add to her Iceland delivery. Her delivery is for late on Friday, and Jen’ politely said she would not wake-me then, and bring it to me until Saturday morning. The lady is so thoughtful! So, a treat of braised beef in onion gravy cook-in-the-bag again for me this weekend after all! Bless yers, Jenny! 
The hickory seasoned beans with the last of the tomatoes, and triple-fried chips, and the Jenny-supplied bread, were smashing! 
As slowly as I was hobbling, and as carefully as I could, I still managed to give myself a toe-stubbing on the corner of the kitchen door! I held onto the door frame for extra support, closed my eye, and withheld the urge to cry out loud and swear! A few moments later, after a Thought Storm that was partly incomprehensible, but included niggling, depressive thoughts about my bad luck and stupidity, I got the medications from the drawer and imbibed them with a drink of spring water.
01:25hrs: I woke up, feeling strangely contented? (If a dream caused this, I want another one like it, Hahaha!) A wee-wee was soon needed, the grey bucket had not been used all night, another conundrum! Hmm? Off to the wet room. 
insouciance on my behalf. I was concentrating well, I thought, but the brain had different ideas. I plugged away, and finally got it finished at last (Three-and-a-half hours). 
No time to send it off the blog yet, the Morrison delivery arrived. I even heard
for me and then shot off, bless him. 
But it proved a trickle-less effort? Humph! 
I took a shot of the murky looking sky from the unpopular, dirty, light & view-blocking, photographer-hating, thick-framed, kitchen window.
I made an order for Iceland. Some of the braised beef in onion gravy (2), I have plans to add some home-made vegetables to them and see what they turn out like. Chicken Satays, Mini ice-cream bars, mushrooms, onions, leeks, cooking butter. And on offer-price, Aberdeen meat joint, orange squash, Hob cleaner, a few different of kitchen-rolls, and some toilet rolls. There was only one type of bog-rolls in stock! Comfort (16-pack), and only one of them was allowed to could be ordered. The panic stock-piling I suppose. The chances are, they might not be any available at all come the delivery time? Oh, dear, dear, dearie me!
Sister Jane phoned me, she’s sent me a bit of the Nottingham Post paper on the snail-post, with details about diabetes for me to read. Not arrived yet.
came to light and life, it was the Amazon delivery gentleman. 
– 
Wearily I got the meal served up, but not without some minor Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops in doing so. A cut finger, a burnt wrist, various dropsies, including as I recall, cutlery, washing up bottle, saucepan lid and the salt pot. 
The meal was a worthy 8.2/10 for taste-rating. This was mainly due to the absolutely delightful sweet potato fritters! 
01:58hrs: I woke several times during the night, but soon nodded off again. This time, I removed my cumbersomely over-stomached body from the £300, second-hand recliner almost straight away. I caught my balance and got the stick, and as I made my way to the kitchen, I stopped part-way… Where were my ailments? Was I still dreaming? Of the wide selection of issues available to me, only Saccades Sandra and Back-Pain-Brenda was of any bother? Duodenal Donald, Dizzy Dennis and the others seem to have abandoned me! Had I snuffed it during the night? I was confused, but oh, so pleased, even if it was only going to be a temporary situation, I took a weak wee-wee in the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and started to sing to myself as I got in the kitchen! 
As I got the kettle on, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters started failed and continuously returned and did so for ages. This meant the following medication sorting (From the mixed-up tablet’s in the falling-apart PilBox. Thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA), the taking and transportation into the computer, were ridden with annoyances, spilt tea, dropped tablets etc., but still no hassle from even Arthur Itis! So things medically speaking were in fine form! Yeehaa! The state of my mentality had yet to be tested and assessed. Haha!
Responded to WordPress comments (2), t
On to graphicalisationing now for a while, before getting the wash & brush-up done. 
I alighted the bus last as usual to avoid the stampede for the door, and stood a moment or two, to search for my shopping list. I knew I was only going to Tesco to get fresh fruit & veg, then the Bargain shop. But there were other items that I could not recall. No luck in finding it anywhere, searched every pocket and the trolley bag? 
I hobbled on a few yards and stopped for another search of the jacket and trolley bag. I was getting slightly annoyed with myself again. I was sure I’d put the list in my coat pocket earlier on. 
As I paid and left, then walked down and out onto Milton Street, I had a rest, as Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley had joined in with Back-Pain-Brenda, in giving me some stick. 
As I started moving again, with little bother from Arthur Itis I might add, I spotted this chap across the road? 
Now, in Depression Defcon Two, I was in a right morbid mood. I moved down the hill, to catch the next 40 bus (15 minutes to wait for it) – already dreading the walk from the 40 bus stop on Mapperley Rise back to the flats. I think I might have still been muttering insults at myself? Cholericalisations!
I walked through the Winwood Court entrance and along the link-passage to the Woodthorpe Court lift lobby. Not a soul in sight. 
I fumbled about a bit getting into the flat with the trolley-guide. Much to the displeasure of Back-Pain-Brenda. She’s not been in a good mood with me at all, today. 
Mushrooms, sugar snap, leeks and peas in the saucepan. Parsnips, turnips, carrots and sweet potatoes in the oven, sprayed with olive oil and roasting. 
I added some of the seaweed nibbles to the plate of so many different vegetables and sausage. I must say it tasted marvellous! A Taste-Rating of 8.8/10!