Inchcock Today – Memories Evoked + Odes

/ Inchie / Leave a comment

Looking at an old photograph can stir memories, even in some Doreen Dementia suffers, like I am. So here are my initial ruminations of looking at this picture… They may come over as a little out of sync, but one’s thought triggers another. I had to be adding them than before I wrote what I was doing… then I forgot what I had started typing. Sometimes remembering later, begin to correct things, and another unrelated memory pops up… to be forgotten about again. Later on, I got all confused but carried on anyway. Sorry about this.

This now embarrassing, brownie-camera photographicalisation shows the signs of authentic poverty in which I grew up. Although, at the time, I believed we were luckier than some of the residents of Brookfield Place. But not many.

Obviously, I was scrubbed up using carbolic soap. I was redressed into pants that didn’t fit; the crumbling walls on the 1899-built two-up, two-down terraced house make me cringe when I see it now. See that? I was nine house bricks high at the time. Not much taller now!

Having a photo taken was an event in those days. I believe Mr Wright, whose family lived at the end of the small terrace, number 10 (I might be wrong, of course). Mr Wright was the only person nearby who was well off enough to own a camera then and generously took pictures and got them developed and given to those in them. A wonderful man.

Christine. Mr Wright and Jane are on holiday in Mablethorpe! I recall feeding the family dog Rover (No pets were allowed on the caravan site in those days.) each time Mr, Mrs Wright, and daughter Christine went on holiday, taking Sister Jane with them; after Jane returned home, I’d better explain that while I think of it.

A better-off side of the family, with five boys, wanted to adopt Sister Jane. Dad opposed this, the fights started, and it was agreed that Jane would of out to Italy with the family. Which left me thinking, Jane was ‘out there’ having a ball, while I was left with Dad (Mother had done another runner from the police). Had to do the cooking and what cleaning I could family. Clean out and set the fire but did not start it until I saw Dad coming home. He thought it was overspending to make a fie for only one person. Give him his dinner, and get the things ready for the morning in the coal house ready for clearing out and resetting again in the morning. So, the crux of it was; that I was a smidge jealous, thinking that Jane was out there, in the sunshine, wanting for nothing, living the life of Riley… While Jane was ‘over there’ thinking that I was at home, living the life of Riley! Hahaha! In truth, poor Jane was miserable and had it a lot worse than me! She was molested, had to be a maid to the boys… When we found out we were both miserable, we had to laugh. As I understand it, each of the lads, who are now men, has been arrested and found guilty of various nefarious offences. Worra family!

Recollections of the folks living near my beloved Brookfield Place came to mind.

From the left, Sister Janet, Inchcock, Christine Wright, Mrs Wright and Walter. Can’t remember what we were doing or where we were when taking the snap. Either Mr Wright to son Brian would have taken it?

This picture, I do remember having being taken. A Door-knock photographer took it (2/3d a photo 11p in today’s money). Not cheap! The rather distinguished-looking (I don’t know how or why I remembered that?) cameraman said it’s usual to have a girl and boys toy in hand. I recall Jame going up to get her teddy from the bedroom, and I nipped next door to borrow a ball from my mate Jack. On my behalf, returning to have the picture taken. But putting on that forced smile was almost painful for me. Har-har!

A terrible picture of my blonde locks. This brings a scary memory back to me. Often I would be in the backyard. Our house was about eight-foot from a railway viaduct. On the left in the top photo) I would be playing or chopping wood in the backyard and the train; it was a busy line, with Arkwright Street Station, high above the houses. We got goods, commuter and the London Express’s all passing throughout the day and night. The houses shook, the windows rattled, the light swayed…

Yet, they never woke me up or bothered me because I grew up with it. Later, when we moved to Ipswich Circus, it was so quiet that I couldn’t sleep for months! True!

I lost my plot there, didn’t I? Sorry, where was I?…

Oh, yes! In the backyard, a neighbour usually would run at me and start to beat me around the head. This is all genuine! I had to wait until they had stopped, to find out why they were clouting me… had I done something naughty (not unknown), or as it usually was, the hot ashes falling from the trains had set my hair on fire again. (Which, more often than not, was the case)

It’s not surprising that I started losing my hair at 20-years of age?

Christine Wright, in front of her house in Brookfield Place.

Not that Inchcock is creeping out behind her? Hehe!

I’ve no memory of this photograph being taken.

I think this one was taken in Wilford or West Bridgford.

Christine and Janet got me to pretend to be knocked over and lay under the Morris Ten car. Haha!

The next one, I can vaguely remember.

The hosepipe was out in the backyard. Fed through the window from Chrissie’s kitchen tap. It’s the summertime, and someone will get soaked, methinks… I vaguely remember grabbing the hosepipe in the cause of self-protection. When those two got together, there was always a danger of me being injured, embarrassed or molested! In this case, all three. And I got a good soaking, to boot!

♫ Memories are made of these… ♫

My family, as such, were Methodists, Wesleyan,
Dad rarely went to church; Mother was an Aryan…
We soon split up, first off to Sicily, went sister Jane,
Brother Pete joined the army to help keep sane…
Mother ran from the police, again and again…
So it was just Dad and me in the main!

Education and affluence, to me, were strange…
No class, I never heard of a counterpane…
Then, I had no bad habits from which to refrain.
As you’ll read above, I got set on fire by many a train,
I’d never dined out or been on holiday or on a jet plane…
I used to get bad headaches, not a posh migraine…
But life was never dull or mundane!

I soon learned that nothing in life is free or certain!
An outside toilet, in winter it froze up, even the chain!
The only interest in sex came from the Chaplain…
I never went abroad, to Italy, France or Bahrain,
Shopped at jumble sales in search of a bargain…
I was considered weird cause I didn’t like John Wayne!
My searches for romance were all in vain!

My hopes for my future were low and uncertain,
I’d sit in my flat, glumly looking out through the curtain,
Plans and designs were ruined cause of my scatterbrain,
At least I’ll never become part of Britain’s brain drain!
My sanity was fluctuateable and hard to retain…
Timourousness, trepidation, and a cruel self-disdain…
My confidence and self-esteem had been mislain!
Don’t suppose I’ll ever find them again?

Is my Alto-Ego me, or am I?
Why do I even wonder why?
Would I be happier as a troglodyte?
Would I still like Marmite?
I think I’m losing this brain fight…
My last driblets of sanity are taking flight…

I’ve tried to do moral things and not to be profane,
Up to now, I’ve avoided trying out cocaine,
From alcohol, greed and bullying, I abstain,
Yet feel my life is almost transmundane…
Are my thoughts really mine or nongermane?
Shit!… I’ve forgotten what I was going to write!

.

Local News Snippets – Part 4â…”rds

/ Inchie / 22 Comments

Local News Snippets – Part 4â…”rds

Last week’s Snippets – Part 4â…”rd,
Crimes committed by the criminal herd?
Murders, knifings, muggings… occurred,
Are sentences being suspended and deferred?
The end of public safety… read my words…

It’s started, the crumbling of morality…
Violent crimes are committed daily & nightly!
Such offences are falling, apparently?
Methinks the Government say this, lyingly!
Crime figures are given with a certain mendacity…

Repeatedly freeing killers early, to murder again,
And yet, so many people do not complain?
The average proletariat shows some disdain,
I’m known locally as a harmless lamebrain…
Who is generally a softy and relatively humane,
Who voted in Brexit to remain…
Now violent crime is sending me to Novocaine!

This young man, is our hopes for the future?

Crime reducing in Nottingham, we were told…
Now multiple murders every week, behold!
The figures are hidden, those unsolved…
Reported crimes are down… down?
That brings on a furrowed brow…
Little faith left in the legal system now!

Four months, suspended for twelve months, and 15 days of rehabilitation activities? Oh, good!.

Then I found this report…

I’m getting confused here…

Bestest ever try… still no cigar…

Link: Unsolved Nottingham Murders

The Nottingham Lads Local News Snippet Series

Inchcock Senses Alto-Egos Presence!

/ Inchie / 16 Comments

Alto-Inchy nearly became visible!

.

What the hell are you on about?

Do you believe in the Morlocks?

No…

Bet yer don’t know who they are?.

I couldn’t give a sod who they are or ain’t.

A simple question, no need to gerrall upset abarght it, me old fruit…

Oh, frug-off! I don’t know where you’ve been, but the last three days have been heaven without you! Wherever you’ve been, can’t yer sod-off back to it…

No, no, no… I’ve been visiting the Morlocks, and I am the first Alto-Ego to do so!

Bollocks!

Ah! Yer see, you really don’t know who the Morlocks are then, do you?

I told you I couldn’t give a rats arse about who they are; why do you want me to know about them, whoever they are? I think…

Ah, but yer doesn’t think, that’s why you’re missing out so much… No! Let me finish…

Oh, go on then… let’s have it…

Well, you smarty-pants know-nothing. The Morlocks inhabit the earth’s inner and underside… and have done for longer than any tellurian life forms have, even before…

Is this going to take long? Only I can feel the need for a crap coming on… which will mean I’ll have had two loads of crap today… Hahaha!

Look Dumbo! This is important; I’m not kidding either. This could benefit both of us, and we can have a lifetime of fame… Well, fair enough, not you, you’re about to snuff it anytime now, at least I’ll be the most famous Alto-Ego ever…

I’m not interested nor bothered about dying – that’s cause you, yer foul-breathed bully Alto, have made me this way. With yer constant putting me down, decrying me, making me so depressed, frustrated and angry, fed-up with failures, this never happened before I found you lurking in my body and mind!

Well, that’s so nice of you to say so, and admit it too! I may have misread you a little. To know that you appreciate all my efforts to maintain your grumpiness, self-hatred and demoralised at all times – I think I

I’ve got to admit it; you’ve done a cracking job. So, go on, tell me about visiting the Morlocks then…

They told me how I could gain some visibility to humans! The Morlocks could see me clearly all the time… but I didn’t like that. I couldn’t sneak upon them, and they knew where I was all the while. No, I shan’t be returning to see them again. Thank heavens, tellurians don’t have this ability! But this gaining part-visibility is excellent! Again, I have supreme and individual capabilities that no other Alto-Ego has! Meaning I can scare the living daylights out of my current human, that’s you, of course. And learn to go fully visible with a bit of training. Of course, your time is nearly up, so I might go a little easy on you cause we’ve been pals for a long time now, and…

‘Ode on mush! Let me get a hold of this. You’re using me as a guinea-pig to practice yer visibility training? After telling me how much yer appreciate my help? You’ll likely give me a heart attack, and my limited time will be shorter…

Oh, yes, did you not see the outlines of weapons on me when I arrived? You should have; I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t, cause I wanted…

Screw you! You scumball! How would you feel of you had a limited life span? You’ve destroyed my self-confidence and frustrated and depressed me; I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t responsible for giving me Vascular Dementia… Ah! You were laughing at me, you horrible Alto-Ego! I just got a glimpse of an outline of the form you’ve taken…

Keep it cool, man! Well, I say man… Hehehe! No need to start getting new abilities now. You’ve got little time left to use ’em anyway! Why gerrupset? At long last, you’ve worked out that Alto-Egos distribute such ailments… Hold on, yer going red in the face now, that’ll do yer no good, Inchcock!

Why the pluck do you want to give innocent humans a mind-crippling thing like dementia? Are you telling me that you Altos are responsible for the ailment?

Of course, we are, Blunderbrain! It’s the easiest thing for us to inflict on humans – that’s why so many of you get it. Gawd, you’re thick! I mean, it’s not exactly easy, cause when we pass it on to you, we’ve got to wait twenty years before we find out if it has been successful or not, so you must appreciate, we have done it for our own good, yer see…

Gragnangles! How does yer work that out then?

Oh, Inchcock, you are so sad. You cannot see what’s happening at all, can yer?

Worrya mean?

Look at your ailment graphic above, and that’s not got the Kathleen Cataracts, Glaucoma Gladys, or Doreen Dementia on it yet, has it?

Well?

Listen, what’s yer worst worry, not counting being deaf, and can’t see much? Go on; I’ll wait while you muse over it…

Erm, not counting being deaf and can’t see much?…

That’s what I said, no rush, take yer time Inchcock; not too long, cause yer ain’t got a lot of time left, have you?

I’m trying to think here; I don’t need you confusing me more…

Exactly my point!

Wot?

I’ll keep quiet; let you work it out then…

Ponders: Erm, Duodenal Donald and Bladder Belinda have been bad today… Cathies Cartilage and Peripheral Pete have been playing up for a day or two… Dizzy Dennis and Sock Glide Brenda have had me over at the weekend…

Then, I scratched my head in the wet room, and it bled a lot… but I’ve since found out the Warfarin INR blood count was a little out of range; they’ve changed the dosages now.  Summat happened on Friday, what was it? Oh, yes, The blood pressure sys went up to SYS 205 and DIA 88, and the Pulse had gone up to 97 bpm. I remember that. And having in the right eye (red-eye) subconjunctival haemorrhaging, which cleared up after two three-a-day days of eye drops? Ah, that’s summat I’d forgotten about. I must ask for some more of the eye drops. Colin Cramps has visited me for the last five nights, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion has been bleeding… and wee-weeing is painful, and sprinkle at the moment. A good job is that I’ve got a large stock of PPs (Protection Pants) in-store in the wet room to use. But Harold’s Haemorrhoids are stinging more lately but not bleeding as often as they usually do… Although the change in the INR level might be causing the bleeding on the arm after a blood taking session?

Even so, forgetting things is mayhaps the worst thing, so it’s Dementia, Doreen?

Yes, Alto, are you still there?

Aye, I’m waiting for you to tell me that it’s Dementia Doreen; that is the worst worry you have!

Well, pickle-my-walnuts! How did you know that?

All part of Alto-Inchie plan and design matey! By giving you Doreen to keep you worried, see how all the other ailments fade into the background?

I’m not sure… I suppose there might be summat in wot you say…

Even my being here, like it or not, takes your mind off of the ailments a smidgeon!

Yea… but we always end up disagreeing, which is not good, is it?

Or, is it indeed?

Anyway, hours ago, I asked you why you had a weapon with you. Well, why?

Just showing off what I learned from the Morlocks, Inchcock. Don’t fret; they are not real weapons. I don’t need them…

Har-Har! What you mean is you cannot fire them… you do not have the capability or physical skills needed to shoot them, innit?

No need to get sarkie with me, mate! It’ll only get me going making you feel tiny, a fool, an idiot, incapable of manual sex, mini-cocked, bald, socially unacceptable, pot-bellied, uncouth, smelly, repugnant, despondent, uneducated, lonely, miserable, uncouth, ugly, uncultured, underprivileged,  scatterbrained, and pestiferous. Deserving of condemnation or execration… a totally pathetically inept old, repugnant fart, unwanted and uncared for, a coffin-seeking has been, who…

Has yer finished yet?

For now, yer!

Oh, good. I shall not return the insults, just suggest you go forth and multiply. Hopefully, with you never returning again…

Hahaha! The only reason I’ll not come again will be when you are dead, so keep on wishing, dumbo!

Oh! See yer anon then; in the morning, Alto?

Cheers, cocker!

A much confused Inchcock got ready for bed, did his ablutionalisationing, and climbed into his £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a recliner. And once again sensed the presence of Alto-Inchie, watching him ready for a verbal attack… As if prearranged, they started on a rhyme-a-line verbal battle…

Oh, you back again, come to lickspittle?

See that, no welcome again. Is your nastiness congenital?

Worrever yer want, be quick, cause I need a pittle…

Why can’t you be a little more angelical?

Cause I’m trying to sleep, and along comes you with your prattle…

Oh, that’s nice, to cheer you up I call twice…

Pig-off Alto, you’re the nasty one. Not nice!

Well, me helping you must come at a price!

Sod-off, I’d sooner be visited by lice!

I only came to tell you what day it was, Christ!

I think you are definitely agathokakological!

Your wording is anti-logical…

Tommyrot, you know that I’m sociological…

More like demonological!

Do you know what the words mean you are using?

Well, not all of ’em, but I find it amusing…

Amusing? I cannot allow you any of that, or contentment, entertaining, or smiling!!!

Was not? I’m just asking…

You nitwit, it’s the reason for my being, to cause you pain, confusion and much inconveniencing…

You do that alright, with your constant word-mincing…

Doreen Dementia has got to you again; you’re word misplacing and mispronouncing!

You horrible Alto-Ego, I wish I could give you a trouncing!

Well, that’d be better than us kissing…

Can’t we just calm down and start pleasantly talking?

Nae, you’d only start grumping, moaning and trumping…

That my unwanted, human-hating antisocial Alto would be due to your tormenting!

Well, I have no morals or body, like you who are in a state of decay…

Hey, hey, hey! You’re having a dig at me again. Oh, lackaday!

A?

A? Are you referring to my doomsday!

Yea! When you snuff it into the ether, your body and mind will stray…

No salvation, just nothing forever and a day…

You might try to pray…

But you’re faithless, right or wrong, who is to say?

Your end is nigh, and it makes me sigh; you could be dead by midday! Hahaha!

At least your fatty body will waste away…

Oy, Alto, You are betting sarky and bitchy!

Yes, thank you, it’s just my way…

I suppose I’ve led my life abstemiously…

That’s the spirit; at least your painful, pathetic, sad, pointless existence was led altruistically…

Altruistically? I’ll check that on the online dictionary…

Don’t waste your time Inchcock; your lack of education left you with a mental block…

And what about forgetting things, losing time, dates, days, keys, codes and the odd-sock?

You’ve not had a lot of luck, have yer? Remember when you were conned by the financial Shylock?

Aye, and being shot twice, made redundant three times, heart failure, Mother running away, ending up in the dock?

Duodenal Donald, going deaf, poisoned, being treated with lice, Shock after shock…

There’s a lot of my history you seem to know, Alto? Have you always had access to my memory box?

Oh, yea! From the go, mate. The first word I heard on this assignment was your Mam’s when she said to the midwife, “I don’t want it; throw it in the Trent!”

Cor, you heard it all, so it was true then, but that’s no consolement.

Aye, I saw it all, the fights twixt yer parents, the police collecting Mam for trial and imprisonment…

Oh, and the tin bath hanging outside on the wall in the yard, outside coal house and toilet, you getting bullied at school… yer life then wasn’t exactly suent!

You having your heart broken by Grizelda, playing truant…

Your fumbling attempts with Mavis from the end house when drunk…

Alright! Enough! Imperfect as my memory is, there are some things I’d like to forget, many a stunt…

Now, here you are 70 odd years later, done-in, pissed off, disabled, and languescent…

I remember the happy times when I lived in digs on Wilford Crescent; my life was incandescent!

Me too; I had a bit of a fling with another Alto…

Ah, but yer couldn’t have sex together, though?

Too true, but it was bliss, till she had to go… so sad though…

Why? Let your story flow…

Do you remember a geordie in the digs by the name of Joe?

I certainly do; that was sad. Heart attack, Joe died as he laid a double-six domino…

. Well, my affair of sorts was with Joe’s Alto-Ego…

She was transferred and assigned to another human called Domingo.

Wilford Crescent was good for me, bad for you, but there you go…

Yes, I lost concentration while Alto-Ego Christine was around… my making you miserable and depressed was not so profound…

I never thought of you as being capable of loving anyone…

Yes, to me, from her backside, the sunshine shone!

Which sounds emotional, as she didn’t have one…

What?

Arse!

Inchcocks Photographicalisations, Ode & Diary

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

Photographicalisations & Diary

♫Fings ain’t wot they used to be…♫

Little did I know the above-written ode would turn out!
I’m worried now; I think I had a memory blank or blackout?
Mistakes n everything I tried to create… a mental wipe-out!
It took me all day to get the blog done, a mind whirlabout…
Problems lasted hours… in fact all day, or thereabout?
Couldn’t get to grips with the day, time, everything, a doubt?
I had to keep stopping when the brain went on a gadabout…

Cataracts and glaucoma made things worse…
The noisy, clang-banging Herbert above made me curse…
Went to the Porcelain Throne; the evacuation was vicious,
Rock-solid: it took me half an hour; this is not fictitious!
It felt about the same size as a trolleybus!
One aspect was not painful or scary; quite the reverse…
Painful, yes, but no bleeding from the rear end, thus…
Washed and did the Germoloid creaming. Oh, that soothes!

From Grammarly, mistakes of all sorts, I was being told,
But I pressed on, which I thought was rather bold…
Dizzy Dennis joined me; Herberts’ noises could still be heard,
Why do I feel so bad could still not be answered,

So what I’m waffling on about…
I did my best, but without any doubt…
Faults mistakes you’ll quickly pick out…
Dates and times mostly, serious and nowt…
From start to finish, throughout…
I suppose this Ode is a criticism redoubt!

I can’t really put a date as such,
The photos, taken over 2½ days,
It may be mixed up datewise in a rush…
To get this blog done… with my mind in a haze,
I dun me bestest, please don’t underpraise…

I’m depressed and in pain, in many ways,
I really have had much betterer days and praise…
The coming of tomorrow and better days,
I’m hoping the confusion doesn’t overstay…
And depression finally breaks away!

Forgive any duplicated photos put in,
With wrong dates & times, I know it’s a sin!
The ailments are bothering me out and within,
My hopes for improvement are relatively thin…
Good job that I don’t drink, or I’d have a gin!.

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

Photographs & minimal Memories

By Jimminee, and jolly good heavens above, what an absolute improvement on yesterday’s sphygmomanometerisationing for the level of blood pressure! Comparing it to Thursdays, nerve-wracking 285 Sys!

It tumbled down to 148, and very welcome it was to see it!

The pulse had dropped as well.

 

Another good result from the thermometer.

It was a dead-on target at 35°c.

I think I was; I had a losing battle against Sock-Glide Glenda again in the wet room. SGG 3 – Inchie 0! It all happened so quickly. Having completed getting the socks on, I was, with only one tiny bruise on the foot, and as I stepped over the frame to grip Glenda to remove her… And seconds later, I was on the deck, entangled in her framework! With a bruise that anyone would be proud of on my shoulder. But then…

Getting up back to my feet (bear in mind I had not got any glasses on at the time). I lunged at the grab-rail to assist my getting up… and missed it entirely! I then had a new bruise to add to the shoulder and wrist ones on my flabby belly as I went back down again and made a painful connection with Sock-Glide-Glenda… again! A few scratches as well, but they are pretty. The Carer said so when she came. She was well impressed with the shoulder bruise. But her favourite was the blotch come bruise on my left man-breast nipple; she was very keen on the pinkness and swelling. Hahaha!

The Iceland food arrived. I’m sure I’ve put all these on before, but it won’t hurt for anyone who may order beef chunks from Iceland to see the photographs of the three packs I bought again. They were all within the sell-by date, too!

On Special offer, I just looked at this close up of the red and khaki coloured lumps they’d sent! It was the same or similar colouring? It reminded me of the only time I’ve seen horsemeat served.

The JS Sainsbury delivery. In the centre of this picture, on the right, you’ll see three tiny sourdough cobs that cost more than the milk roll bread. Talk about hard! Gawd, blimey, they were 80% crust. Did my teeth no good. But I ate what I could salvage from the concrete balls of sourdough later on? 

The ‘Best’ potatoes all had growths of bruises on them.

Can’t recall what night I made this meal. But I can remember enjoying it pretty well. The fishcakes with peas in them were tasty enough, the potato waffles were terrible, as were the fish fingers, all vegetarian. The tomatoes tasted excellent, cake and banana, but the vegan cakes cost more money. The potatoes and peas were disappointing. Taste Rating: 6.5/10.

I think I’ve shown this photo, but I am not sure. Sourdough bread, the Polish style one, mushroom pate and tomatoes, a soft imitation cheese portion, were almost as bad as the cakes. But that bread and pate. Was gorgeous.

.

Mike Fries: A good looking, Mafia-type, $23 million wage earner – no, I’ll take that back, he is not an earner to me.
But, I admire his cunningness in convincing his paymasters at Liberty-Global, to pay out $15 billion to buy out Mr Branson’s Virgin Media. Then instructing the UK telecom call-centre team, never to mention Liberty-Global to any customers? Thus, Mike Fries cannot get his $15b internet service to run for a day without going down several times – and Richard Branson gets all the name-calling and abuse. (He’s clever, you know!)

I imagine that if any proletariat call-centre person was caught mentioning the name Liberty-Global to any poor Virgin Media customers… The least they would come away with would be getting knee-capped & sacked?

He’s a Smoke & Mirrors expert. A figure-conjurer of the highest order. The bosses at the top get the complete treatment from his financial sleight of hand and legerdemain skills. They likely actually are being convinced by Fries of the competency of Virgin Media? Which, of course, does not exist.

There’ll be some financial hocus-pocus going on that convinces the top dogs of his profit-making for them, even if only on paper, so’s to speak. It’ll be out of my league!

I believe his flimflam, hanky-panky, and double-dealings will never be caught. So effective are his smoke & mirrors techniques.

This is a shame because despite wishing him a slow, excruciatingly painful death for his cheating ways and knackering me up every day with his Virgin internet repeatedly failing.

I like his style.

I’m jealous probably. Hahaha!

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

Evening Carer’s just called. Another new gal, pleasant enough with me. I insisted she had some treats, a nibble and a drinkie for putting up with my constant moaning about life. Hehehe!

It’s late now; I’m ready for summat to eat and a kip. I’ve got some spuds baking, pod plead in the saucepan, and a veggie pastie to add to the potatoes if I don’t fall to sleep first. I’ll try to get this finished in the morning.

I’d like to stay awake long enough to get some sunset shots. If Colin Cramps visits again when I get down, I should at least get the sunset photo’d if no sleep. Har-Har!

As I was going to have a check on the fodder cooking, I heard a clattering noise from the room I’d just left. I went back to investigate…

The new giant faux-fur brown throw had somehow or other, slid off of the £300, c1968, second-hand, decrepit, rickety recliner, taking to the floor with it: my Wood-Waking-Stick-Walter, Picker-Upperer-Percival, Shoe-Horn-Horis,  a towel, two pairs of trousers, a pot of Cheeselets, two bottles of spring water, and two cushions! Harrumph!

I got things sorted things out again. And then went back to the kitchen to get the meal prepped and served up. No sunset as such, but the view was eerily misty, enough for me to take a snap.

photographicalisation. Served up the fodder. Two veggie pasties, two potatoes baked, halved and plant butter added. fresh garden peas and tomatoes. A banana and pot of dessert. Taste Rating: 7.8/10.

I got sorted and down to try and stay awake long enough to watch my first episode of Grimm. It started at 22:00hrs, which is too late for me normally. I remember checking the schedule, and it was 15 minutes before Grimm started on the same channel… and thinking at last I’ll get to watch it… Of course, Sweet Morpheus got me, and off to kip, I went before seeing the program start!

I woke a few hours later, a selling channel was on then. I rose for a wee-wee and needed the Porcelain Throne as I was on my way to the wet room.

Rock-solid again! A good hour I was in there, going through pain and having to make it worse by giving my best supportive efforts to constantly edge the concrete torpedo out from the rear end. Gawd it felt good afterwards, though!

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcocks Local News Snippets – Issue 31â…•th

/ Inchie / 29 Comments

Issue 31â…•th

I’m pleased to be able to report,
This issue has less violence of a sort,
Minor stuff, no murders, that’s a comfort,
Cause I may find one later, to import…
There’s no need to feel distraught,
There’ll soon be more, for me to flaunt!

Here we go…

Mental Health Act, I worry about it a bit…
Many members of my family have known it…
Malcolm, and others, they have seen fit…
Locked up, losing their citizenship…
One chap, they even gave him the snip?
He hurt no one, ever, but he still got zapped?
Now my family have gone off to the crypt!

Yet none of them had committed rape or murder,
If the mentally ill are considered a danger…
Could we not have discovered this much earlier?
Stop waging war, spend money wiser…
I’m getting confused, I’m not a scaremonger…
Drug gangs, Putin, murderers, muggers and pillagers,
Greed for cash… to show off and swagger!

Nor am I in my right mind, due to Doreen’s Dementia,
I’ve not led a life, with very much adventure…
But the mentally ill can be more of a danger…
Cause we rarely find out, before they become a killer!
That they have a problem, but a lawyer is a great deluder…
Claiming mental problems, voices hear, trickery here!

As with the parole board, that frees many a murderer,
To kill again… can justice really be absurderer?
So many innocents, now laying in their sepulture…
Because of the legal system, and its pathetic nomenclature!

Life imprisonment, they get out in ten?
This is not rare, it’s happened so often…
Judges pretending that the case is disproven…
Like backhander taking referees, the Government to please,
Keep the scum out of prison, the cost does displease…
It’s cheaper to make them into parolees…
So they can murder again, and with such f’ing ease!

Fair enough, put her in hospital, to play with frisbees,
She can be assessed regularly, by overpaid committees?
She’s better now, all the parole board might agree…
They may say no, either way, it doesn’t bother their fees!
Will mental murders ever start to decrease…
Is the legal system bothered at all? That’s the wheeze!
I’m sure we could find a way to help earlier, Please!
Before we have yet another innocent, deceased!

Humankind, seem to be losing the ability for conferring…
As well as bantering, bartering, and also, discussing…
Although some other qualities, they are practising,
Like moaning, complaining, thumping, mugging…
Battering, stabbing, lying, cheating, conning…
Grovelling, drinking, drugging, belching, killing…
Bedevilling, befuddling, begalling, belittling…
Caterwauling, shoplifting, fiddling, crime and spitting,
They have taken to with eagerness, and willingness.

This violence is getting a little close to home mate!
Like Putin, who validates it’s okay to annihilate!
Drink, drugs and sex, can easily overstimulate,
They put men on the moon, dead cells rejuvenate…
Shame the proletariats’ brains won’t recalibrate!
Mistakes my those in power, they just replicate…
Knowing their failings are worse than Watergate!

Oh, yes?

Even closer to my Woodthorpe Court, great!
Burglaries, break-ins, what a spate…
I think I’ll hibernate and vegetate?
Till Jesus returns, not long to wait!

Conditional bail? Sounds dodgy, to me?
What are the conditions? What do they be?
Why have they let this animal roam free?
Justice is farcical, in this country!

I’ll try to follow this one!

Local Postcode Crimes v National

The NG5 4DZ Crime Map. Been busy ain’t they?

A scumball like that does not deserve a lawyer for free! At least he got a prat of a lawyer, who could only tell the judge that he’d been a good boy, in mitigation. With his record, how he got off so lightly just proves my saying that the law is an ass!

This Below is really sad… Heartbreaking!

Everyone is a loser!

RIP Ray Dixon

ROGUES GALLERY

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Inchies Diary Photographicalisations

/ Inchie / 20 Comments

INCHIES PHOTOGRAPHICALISATIONS

Approx’ 17:00hrs. After putting in the eye drops, I cleaned my spectacles and let them settle; I then sprayed the eyes with the cleanser refresher. Not that it made a lot of difference.

18:50hrs: Took a Sunsetting snap. The weather was warm with it. The wind getting up a smidge. I may have obtained these pictures from the kitchen window out of order. I do a lot of that nowadays!

Around 19:30hrs, I had to get up for a wee-wee. I do a lot of that nowadays as well. Hehe! I’m glad I did, though. I caught the last view of the sun, and I did it without any red spots showing in the frame.

This shot I must have taken earlier, or the next day mayhaps? Also, I’ve forgotten what it was and why I took it. Hope in beating the onset of Dementia, Doreen, is fading.

Obviously, even to me, this shot was taken from the balcony of the Chestnut Walk end car park. The red van man parked in his regular spot, on the chevrons, next to the no parking painted on the floor.

The next day’s picture of the Chestnut Walk ends car park. The white van at the back has been there for some weeks now, if not longer? Red van man still claiming his naughty parking space.

Ah, we are on yesterday now (Tuesday). I remember making one of the worst meals I’d ever done. I’d forgot that I’d put the chunks in the slow cooker, peas in the saucepan, and potatoes in the oven with all the kerfuffle. And pressed on with the blogging for another six hours or so. Tsk! When I realised, late on in the night, I did my best to rescue a meal out of them. The chunks and peas were terrible and untasty, having all the flavour cooked out of them. The potato skins were too hard to eat; a little of the flesh was edible, just about, with the  Worcester sauce I put on them. Flavour rating: 2.5/10!

(Tuesday): Not many, the SD card Reader reduced to load many others. Grumph! I got these on by going into CorelDraw and importing, then saving them, exporting them to the Inchcock file, and then loading them onto the media file. A frustrating, time-wasting effort. But we wouldn’t like to miss the Red-Van-Mans parking, would we?

I had another look from the balcony, and Red-Van-Mans van, looked like it hadn’t been moved.

So, I finished the blog many hours later than usual.

The evening sunset was late coming again. but I stayed awake to get a photographicalisation. Not that I could sleep anyway. Sweet Morpheus seems to be absent a lot this last few days.

The evening carer arrived, and she sorted the tablets for me. Washed some pots and took the waste bags with her when she departed. Thank her muchly. ♥

Yet again, Sweet Morpheus was cruel to me. I hope he’s kinder to HRH Lisa, at Crowell Manor, in Fort Thomas. 💕 I wonder if the Lesser-Red-Spotted Billum is still lesser-Red-Spotted? Let me know, Billum.

Then Colin Cramps gave me an attack in the legs and feet… he enjoyed his visit I think… I didn’t! Hehehe!

The Nottingham Lads’ True Tales of Woe

Inchcocks Selected Whoopsiedangleplops of the day

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

ONE

SOCK GLIDE-GLENDA

Absolutely!

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

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


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

TWO

The Iceland Food Cometh!

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

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

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

So, I had to try the landline.

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

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

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

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

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

And here we go…

Three

Amazing Amazon Cock Up

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

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

Four

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

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

Then came the Blood Pressure taking…

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

Flibbledonkackles! & Spurgledamnations!

Great Balls Of Fire!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

Inchcocks Thoughts – In Odes Issue 13â…“rd

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

In Odes, not good ones… but Odes!

The number of humans on this earth is 7.87 billion at this time…
On the global internet, the users add up to 4,321,740 and 9!
So your chance of your blog going viral is fine…
But don’t expect it, as I did, then found a steady decline!
I hope you do much betterer with thine!
My last one got two likes and comments; one was mine!

It’s Doreen Dementia and Liberty-Global I blame,
It’s fun to me, but it’s all money… a shame!
Their service is as much off as on, and it’s a game…
Farcically, ownership Liberty-Global disclaim!
Telling the call agents not to ever mention their name!

Liberty-Global owns Virgin; the boss should resign!
For Mr Fries knows not what he is doing…
Or though maybe he does, he makes money fine?
It’s overpaying mugs like me that he’s screwing…
His bosses think that everything is fine…
With Fries shadowy, manipulative money moving,
All on paper, mist and mirrors… this profit maker-divine!

A gorgeous gal wanted me in the early hours of this morning…
Of course, I knew that I was probably dreaming,
This very fact, I found a little perturbing…
She insisted on closer, passionate probing,
To my delight, she was acquiescing…
We were soon manipulating and bouncing,
She was ready and asked for another trouncing,
No problem for me, and I began eagerly disrobing,
But my performance, I think, was unconvincing…
Surely she should have been rejoicing?
And as her knickers, she was replacing…
I attempted some more romantic seducing…
I found it embarrassing what she was saying…
“I’ll not call again; there was no pain – Where’s this leading?
I’m just glad I was only dreaming!

–

I thought the visit before was on the wet side…
But this evacuation was even more undignified
I failed to get there on time, my aim was wide…
I cleaned things up, taking it all in my stride,
In doing this, I felt an iota of pride!

Cleaned, refreshed, but I went from Jekyll to Hyde,
As I started to get things all antisepticised…
I dropped the Germoloid after it had been applied…
And trod on it, swore, and boy, how I did self deride!
The contents squirted all over, and my frustration intensified!

But this Throne visit had yet another downside to it…
Leaving the wet room, I misjudged the width a little bit,
Missed hitting into the frame; I gave myself a little merit!
Stubbed my toe on the airer; fell, hitting under my armpit!
All this cause I urgently needed a flipping sh__!

Thought Storms Erupted

The Thought-Storms erupted, irking, they attacked,
Insults, fears, and failures were lurking and squirted…
Self-loathing, diffidence, vacillation were not appreciated
New worries, old ones, insecureness… amalgamated!
It’s Thought-Storms like this that are most hated!

The cause of the forebodings could not be authenticated,
For reasons, causes, I waited and waited, breath abated…
Nothing was solved, understood or elucidated…
The logic-testing thoughts, endlessly circumlocuted,
My mind was failing, nervous and bloviated!

My resistance was worn down, crumbling, it wilted…
My own thoughts could not be filtered…
However, slowly the tormenting mind vegetated,
Which was good; the brain needed to be rested…
Along came a new wave of dichotomies to be wherrited!

Inchcock Thought Storms – In Ode

Inchcock’s Diary & Retrieved Photographs

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

Inchcock’s Diary & Retrieved Photographs

Four days without being able to upload any pictures, again,
Frustrating, annoying and a bit of a pain!
I tried this morning once again…
Some of them loaded; how transpadane!
I hope the uploading thingumajig working does remain…
Or I’ll go out of my tiny dementia-ridden brain!

Still, here they are, with details that I can remember,
Dates, days and times; may be subject to conjecturer…
But I’ve done my bestest; I can’t be any fairer…
The memory is not so good and tends to flounder…
Thanks to the stroke, then Doreen Dementia!

Overnight I had youths intruding into the flat,
Not just once, but twice, not very nice!
That got me worried, I can tell yer that!
Youths, two to four of them, to be unprecise!

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

Photo’s Rescued

Evening (well, I think these three are?), photographicalisations are. All three were taken within a few minutes, if I recall right, from the kitchenette window, on a patchy dark cloud-covered sky. What day ut was, I’m not sure.

A beautiful view, even if the wind was a bit nippy as I opened the window and shuddered a little. Hehe!

I managed to take a closer shot that didn’t come out too bad when you consider the weather, clouds and my shaking right hand & arm.

I think these were taken on Wednesday. I can recall being impressed. But not with my photography, but with Mother Nature producing such amazing sights for us all.

I think I took this second shot because I’d got a small red spot blotch on the first one?

Then I took the third one, with more of the land view shown.

I’ve just noticed that I got an even bigger res spot on this one at the bottom of the frame. Tsk! I got pains in cataracts taking this last one; I can member that bit! It was half an hour or so before they eased off. Humph!

One of the evening meals here. I tried to recall if I liked or enjoyed it… But no! I can’t even remember eating it or taking a photograph either. It looked decent enough. I think I liked it?

Ah, this was Thursday… or was it? I ordered this food from Morrisons via Amazon. I’ve just looked it up on the email; it was on Saturday, the delivery.  Amazing how Dementia Doreen can convince me of facts that are so wrong.

Battered haddock, fishcakes, imitation fish sticks, Leicester grated cheese, mushroom pate, and pots of lemon cheesecake. With, commoners treat like from years ago, jelly and custard. I like ’em! Common and I go together!

Tomatoes, tomato puree with basil, Milk roll bread, Hovis white crusty bread, cakes, and cleaners.

I do not intend to hide my shame at all those cakes. But it didn’t last for long! Guilt flows freely in the brain, and intentions to start slimming crept into the equation…

After the Carer called and I collected the washing, I pondered on what to have to eat. And decided that I’d press on with the blogging and eat later on. The awful idea I had, was to have two slices of the Hovis bread, each with half of the mushroom pate, buttered and the slice of bread folded over the pate. With some tomatoes and nothing else. We’ll see about that…

I went into the kitchen to make sure I had some butter in the fridge to use, and the view caught all of my attention! Buy, was it a fantastic view, or what?

Wonderful! I stood looking at it for ages, as it quickly turned into darkness as the sun disappeared. 

I came across this ‘Gannet-sized’ picture of an earlier in the week meal I’d devoured. I reckon on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday?

Sundays nosh. I believe.

I soon gave up on computing and got down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a tatty recliner, in search of sleep.

A close-up photograph of the Chestnut Walk’s end car parking antics and positioning. Why do they spend all that money on chevrons and signage if they are enforceable by law? There are consistent; you have to give that to them.

Inchcock’s family early morning get together and chinwagging session. Koala Katie, Teddy Bear & Lil the Lamb were in a talkative mood. You think I’m joking, don’t you? Haha!

 The clunk-clunking started from above. Even Duodenal Donald started to give me some gip! And he’s been as good as gold for weeks!

Within an hour, I’d taken Peptac, used Germoloid, Germolene and taken an extra Codeine Phosphate. What next, I thought? I soon found out!.

I felt the wet warm glow from Little Inchies Lesion bleeding! Got back up to clean and medicate things, then back into the pretend recliner… still in search of some time with Sweet Morpheus! As I tried to get settled, comfortable enough to get into the land of nod…

I nodded off soon enough, waking up two uninterrupted hours of rest later, and felt a lot betterer! So much so, I freed my scarily overweight body from the chair and went to make the planned earlier meal!

Taste Rating: 9.15/10!

Sat I think: I took this photo before tucking into the feast! The thick slices of bread were soft, the crusts crusty. The tomatoes were delicious for once. Wunderbar! And the meal was so easy to prepare!

Back to the present: Unfortunately, getting back to sleep was impossible. The Thought-Storms raged! Guilt, shame and frustrations flowed!

 I was soon back up, needing the Porcelain Throne! But it went well. not messy, and no bleeding from anywhere!

I stayed up and made a start on this blog. Then had a meal

The highlight of this Saturday is that Jillie is calling to see me, I hope. 💜 Which she did! Lovely to see her, hug her, kiss her and have a mammoth chinwagging session!

Jillie brought me some Polish cooked meats. Bless her cotton socks! She checked on the dates and timings for the hospital visit for me. And offered help with cancelling the Meridian laundry service. I’m better off with Esther doing it, she irons anything that needs it when it gets back, and the clothes are properly dry and folded for me. This week Carer Valerie did the washing, returned it the same day (sometimes it is three days before it gets back from Meridian), and all was well dried and folded, but this is not the normal state of affairs. Thanks, Valerie.

Getting to sleep was impossible! The excitement of seeing Jillie, I believe, may have had some effect?

The door buzzer woke me up; in a half-daze and unsure of what time it was, I got to the door… After many hours of trying, I did nod off.

Josie told me her sister was taking her out for a meal tomorrow, so she would not need a meal cooking this Sunday. Good of her to let me know, Bless her.

I gave myself a toe-stubbing against the stand-up airer radiator hobbling back. Oh, dearie me! 

Mage some of the small milk roll bread, buttered sarnies with the bacon that Jillie had bought me. It was delicious! A hint of garlic and herbs, Bootiful! Not as beautiful a Jillie, though, naturally. ♥

Alphabetti potatoes, tomatoes, a small lemon cheesecake, and lemon curd tart for afters. I think I’m cutting back on my food intake, and am going to start the bi-daily exercise as we did in the after-stroke recovery programme… well, all being well. I’ve just got to have a word or two with Dementia Doreen, Cataracts Kathleen, Arthur Itis, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion and Duodenal Donald, t see if they will allow me to do so, uninjured. Hahaha!

I’m a little apprehensive and twitchy now, about the yobs. I bet they’ll be back again tonight… Clapthunder! If they do come, I’ll press my wristlet alert alarm. Even if I can’t make out what they are saying, they should hear me.

As I lay there fretting, I passed wind and made a mess in the Protection Pants to make things worse! Good job that I’ve got plenty in stock. Cause this happened again later! Trotsky Terence was in charge.

The evacuation started and ended before I got down onto the plastic seat! Virtually liquid. What few shreds of solids were a khaki colour, with yellow liquid. The stomach ached and was rumbling throughout. What had I eaten that could have caused this?

I washed, shaved, the teeth were done, olive oiled the ears, Germoloided Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and put the eye drops in (some of the drops actually getting into the eyes!). New PP’s adorned. Changed into the day clothes, and I put the kettle on. Took a Galpharm capsule and a Co-codamol for the tummy pains.

Later on Sunday, I worked on this blog; then, the Morning Carer arrived and sorted the medications for me.

I tried to find the number to report the incidents to Nottingham City Homes, but the number was only for Mon to Friday. I mentioned this worry, on the Winwood Heights Facebook page, hoping there may be another number to use. No answer, but it’s only 10:30hrs yet.

Winwood Heights Facebook Comments: Tenant Hugh tried to find the number for me. Later in the day, Warden Deana wrote, suggesting I press the alarm-alert button and told them of the situation. But, of course, I could not understand what anyone at the other end of the call was saying. Folks forget about my cataracts, deafness and dementia. Even when I mentioned the incident to my Carer, it was suggested that I may have dreamed it? But I didn’t… did I?

I was still unsure of whether to lock the door or not. Leave it unlocked, and the gang of yobs could get in again, cause harm and damage, and steal summat… Lock it, have a stroke, and the ambulance men can’t get in, and I’m dead… I don’t think anyone understands my indecision and fears. I chose to lock it. An hour later, I thought better of it and unlocked it. Two hours later, I locked the door again, which is how it is at writing this now.

Evening Ode to the day

The ganglet of yobs invaded my recluse…
In the early hours of the morning…
Got me rattled and aroused!
They arrived without any warning…
In they came, I put the light on, cunning?
No wonder I was confused…
They suddenly started running?
Else I may have got battered and bruised?
Will they return tonight?
Ready for a one-sided fight?
Will I get thrashed?
Or end up bucktoothed?
I’m not worried… well, not quite…

Evening All!

Inchcock Today: Intruder Yobboes In The Flat! Sunday 17th April 2022

/ Inchie / 13 Comments
THE INCIDENTS…

The door chime rang out, but not for the usual length of time? I thought I must have dreamt it, going into and out of wakefulness. A minute later, the chime rang again! I got up and went to the door and looked through the spy-hole – the motion detector light in the lobby was lit! I remembered the note about youths gaining access to the flats through a fire escape door and going around the block, pressing door buzzers and bells, and trying doors! I think it must have been them! Now I was nervous, so sleep was out of the question.

And later, the buzzer went again; I put the light on and heard the door closing noisily! Shit! 

I checked, and the lobby light was on again, so someone had been there. I suspect the youths rampaging again, and this time they were coming into the flat with no doubt nefarious criminal intentions. But with me putting the light on so quickly, it must have surprised them. I heard a voice saying what sounded like ‘Scram! and shadows from the lobby light as they shot off.

I shall have to report this to Warden Deana in the morning… oh, it is morning now. When the wardens arrive at about 09:00hrs.

I am a fool! It is the weekend now. There are no wardens on duty Saturdays and Sundays or evenings. I’ll have to find the Nottingham City Homes control room number and let them know.

I’m a little apprehensive and twitchy now. I bet the scumballs will be back again tonight? Clapthunder! 

As I lay there fretting, I passed wind and made a mess in the Protection Pants to make things worse! Good job that I’ve got plenty in stock. Cause this happened again later! Trotsky Terence was in charge.

The evacuation started and ended before I got down onto the plastic seat! Virtually liquid. What few shreds of solids were a khaki colour, with yellow liquid. The stomach ached and was rumbling throughout. What had I eaten that could have caused this?

I washed, shaved, the teeth were done, olive oiled the ears, Germoloided Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and put the eye drops in (some of the drops actually getting into the eyes!). New PP’s adorned. Changed into the day clothes, and I put the kettle on. Took a Galpharm capsule and a Co-codamol for the tummy pains.

Later on Sunday, I worked on this blog then, the Morning Carer arrived and sorted the medications for me.

I tried to find the number to report the incidents to Nottingham City Homes, but the number was only for Mon to Friday. I mentioned this worry, on the Winwood Heights Facebook page, hoping there may be another number to use. No answer, but it’s only 10:30hrs yet.

Then thought, I’ll report it on the non-emergency police number 101. A fat lot of good that was!

I was getting into a right state, mentally. I rang the 111 NHS number by mistake!

I carefully dialled the 101 digits: The first recorder voice I could hear clearly and got my hopes up. I had to press for Derby or Nottingham Police, which I did. I got a female squeaky to my ears to understand the recorded message.

Farcical! I’d no chance of understanding what was said. So, I had to give up on that, too! People with hearing, sight, and dementia problems are lost in the ether of evolutional methods of contacting anyone for help.

Much as I don’t feel safe locking the door, just in case of another stroke or bad tumble… I do not want the yobs getting into the flat again… Do I lock the door or not?

Not one of my better day endings!