Inchcock: Thoughts on Imbecilities – In Odes

Thoughts on Imbecilities

Vascular Dementia Doreen and the Thought-Storming,
Memory-loss, mind blanks, can be mentally disturbing,
At times depressing, troubling, often gruelling…
Alto-Ego and Inchies brain, arguing, duelling…
Sometimes the mind needs a rest for refuelling,
Here are some of the traits revealed, comedic and appalling!

Arguing with Alto-Inchy…

Conflict often starts when in the wet room, ablutioning,
I’ve only one mirror; I use it for shaving in the morning…
Or with mind-blanks, sometimes, it will be in the evening,
I hate him; he’s superior, nasty and criticising!
This Alto Inchie… the other me… can be baffling…

Mayhaps I need a neurologist or Psychologist visiting?
I hear sounds from the past, traffic, songs, bugling…
Although usually, we are deep in mental brawling…
Me, the one who ends up depressed and caterwauling…
Yet occasionally, Alto-Ego, becomes less insulting?

I suppose I need some form of help, some counselling?
Yet I don’t believe anything can stop my mind from crumbling!
Physically Peripheral Neuropathy Pete can be disabling,
The Stroke ensured I shall forever be struggling…
The Cataracts, Glaucoma and ears are much more worrying…

Yet some days, incredibly, I seem to be coping?
I find that I am actually optimistic and hoping,
I can sort out bits of concern by disentangling…
The feeling guilty for my self-pity, by realising,
Others are worse off and alone too… Humbling!

Stop and Ponder…

The Thought storms may suddenly go into mothballing…
I stop in the front room – it needs cleaning and sorting…
The brain tells me I require mollycoddling…
My fears and depressions certainly need muzzling!
Priorities need arranging and some actioning!

But it’s not easy for me, detail classifying, pigeonholing,
Forgetting, misplacing, quarrelling amidst the schemozzling…
Fears, worries, flash into mind… like anchovies shoaling,
I feel my sanity at times is stumbling on its way to failing,
Do you think the NHS will do mind-surveilling?

Mentally Distorted

I see the view via photographing,
What do you see? Well, according to me…
Somewhere out there; Some folk will be contradicting,
Or a poor sod in the middle of a bankrupting…
A family, communally banqueting?
A Monopoly player cheating?
Someone undoubtedly shoplifting…
A lamb in a field might be bleating?
Or emergency workers, fire-fighting,
Drug gangs, selling, abusing…bloodletting?
A politician… bloviating!
A news reporter, reporting?
An illegal immigrant deporting?
A lucky sod having sex… luxuriating!
Someone up an alleyway, urinating?
First-time home-owners, decorating,
An old age pensioner… constipating!

A Dour Sunsetting

A hard-up family, regretting Brexiting?
A hustler, planning, hornswoggling!
A fiddling bank manager… calculating?
A mugged pensioner, capitulating…
A murderer being freed to kill again – Sickening!
A baby going through the pain of castrating?
A young couple learning about cavorting!
Another freed murderer, celebrating?
A Hari Krishna member chanting,
A water worker, chlorinating?
A Nottingham pick-pocket circulating,
A Politician: World war circumventing?
A pair of gents, cockfighting,
A Policeman, machete and gun confiscating?
Jews and Arabs coexisting?
Ah! Now I’m getting into the land of dreaming…

Bad Parking!

.The Red Van Man – lousy parking…
Parking properly, he’s not contemplating…
Maybe he has not got the ability?
If so, parking without conformity…
Blocking fire engines in an emergency?
He should get a cautioning?
Ah, now I’m remembering…
Private land! So no legal prosecuting…
I’m not surprised; at the laws failing…
They free murderers to do more killing!

Dangerous!

Look at these perfect results above, contrasting…
To yesterday, when the SYS was rising…

Oh, dearie me!

The temperature was ever more declining…
34.1°c, but I’m only witwantoning!

Angel Julia

.American Carer Julia, her kindness is unremitting,
She had another call to do, so not much nattering…
Whenever Julia calls, I find it thrilling…
When Julia leaves, it is somewhat saddening…
For she cheers me so, she’s pleasant, patient and Caring ♥

Lip Smackingly Good!

Do you like the look of the meal above, my dining?
No meat as such, but fish-sticks, without fish in?
The taste of them was breathtaking…
Not too sweet, oven chips, no frying…
And I’m not lying, the most satisfying…
Truly tasty, there’s no denying…
A treat to the taste buds… gobsmacking!
Harry Ramsdens Chip Shop style, well-worth trying!

I find things today are moral-contaminating,
Not that I’ve done much in the improving things contributing!
I’ve drifted along, weak-willed and no consolidating…
Done my bestest to be kind and temper-moderating…
Welcomed, greeted folks, by my bridge building…
Do no harm, I did to help for others, aid-orchestrating…

Now disabilities, old age, vascular dementia I’m getting…
I keep falling over, but not fainting,
Struggle with my ablutioning,
Tried not for others to be abnegating…
The eyes and ears problems get no alleviating,
Let alone actually obtain any treating!

I’m aware of Dementia Doreen; I need sanity-auditing,
My thoughts and intentions… are not completing…
Use of the brain is nowadays complicating,
My decisions, fears, desires are self-conflicting…
I do little to deserve any respect or congratulating,
The Thought-Storms are ever congregating…

The mind seems to be mentally contorting,
The physical side doesn’t stand reporting…
Even taking a wee-wee needs coercing!
From logicalness, I think I’m distancing…
Any paperwork is confusing and inconveniencing!

Memory, or lack of, mind blanks, have me cursing…
I need help, mayhaps a little nursing?…
No, perhaps some rejoicing, romancing?
I may get by with some reminiscing?
The brain has little left for downloading!

Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series – In Odes

Sunset Thoughts In Odes

“Oy, Inchie…

“Wot?”

“Wot yer doin’ then?”

“Watchin’ the sunset!”

“Wot for? It ‘appens every night, yer burke?”

“I know it does, yer grumpy git! I photograph it most nights yer know…”

“I know that I am a part of yer ain’t I?”

“Then why ask me wot I’m doing then? You drive me to my homebrew, Ooh!”

“I dunno, just to piss you off, I suppose!”

“Sarcasm from you always flows…”

“Do you know, we’re talking in prose?”

“Go on then, let’s keep it up, see how it goes?

“The Carer will be here soon, let’s see who loses the odeing, you know?

“Just look at how the dying sun still glows..”

“I bet you’d get a better pattern as a Filipino?”

“I hear out there, they drink cappuccino?”.

“Do you like Pizzas from Domino?”

“What’s that got to do with the Ode, dumbo?

“Sod-all, you’ll soon be back on the Vino…”

“You’re in a barmy-mood? Why don’t you just go?

Cause I also want to see the sun’s dying glow!”

“I’m not having that; you a naturist? No, no, no!”

“That’s not nice, do yer want your blood to flow?”

“Ah, but you can’t hurt me physically, though!”

“Not my style, but I can send you loco!”

“Ha! I’m already bonkers; you’re too slow!”

“You are a saddo, fatso, and have no gusto!”

“Go on knob-end, tell me summat I didn’t know!”

“Well, the sun’s beginning to go…!

“I wish you would go; you damage my ego!”

“Why do you have to live on the 12th-floor in Council flats? Can’t you afford a bungalow?”

“Leave me alone. You’re always digging at me; you’re making my anger grow…”

“In the flat, it must be like the Alamo! Waiting for death, in agony, another coffin-seeking Bozo!”

“The Alamo? Well, my life seems to be connected like an imbroglio…”

That much, I understand and know…

“I don’t get out much, so?”

“With your luck, if you did, someone would stab you with a stiletto…”

“Or you stay-in, and old father time will soon say, time for you to go, cheerio!…”

“You being a defeatist would mumble, Righteo!”

“You may even ask him, is there time for one last bacon sarnie, with sourdough?”

“Have yer done? Taking the piss and having your fun?

“Aha! Pillock that didn’t rhyme. I’ve won again, I’ve won!

“Rollocks!”

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh-In Ode, Series

Inchcock’s Belated Photographicalisations

Made a mess of writing that – Tsk!

Sunsetting Shots. I think from Sunday

The Iceland delivery, Monday.

What a selection! Strawberries, shortcake beef pasties, BBQ chips, microwave sausages, steak slices, and battered fishcakes! Methinks that I’ll eat well?

Continuing the fine dining theme… (Hehe!) Gastro chunky fishcakes in with peas, smoked haddock fishcakes, Chip shop chips, and cheesy potato gratins. Gannet! Mmm!

With me getting the new fish products, the big bag of chips, and some mini-iced suckers, making room in the freezer was a work of art. Hahaha! I took some products out of their boxes to get them in. At the time, I was chuffed with my realising that the cooking times and temperatures were on the cartons, so I placed them to one side to be trimmed and cut out the instructions to go in the drawer…

No sooner had I finished storing the food away than I saw the cartons, ripped them up, and put them in the waste bin. Pillock-Brain! After sorting all the fodder, I took the bag and deposited it down the chute with the other rubbish!

The fridge was far from filled.

.

The aforementioned cock-up as I threw away the removed out of date foods, and cooking instruction labels, away down the waste chute, never to be seen again.

What looks like a bit of luxury living style below? Two mini apple pies and a Viscount mint chocolate treat; on a swath-looking gold plate for a nibble. But, of course, photos can be misleading. It is a paper plate, but it looks natty? Har-har!

Kept up a fairly constant tap-tapping, with the odd clunk was thrown in throughout the day. But, Mr Superior wasn’t excessively noisy with it, just annoying. I was glad the hearing was so bad.

Took this shot below as I entered the kitchenette. A bit dark…

So took this one with the flash on…

That’s better!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Attending Carers

Richard.

Julia

Ilfra

Carer Helen

Left ankle morphing into I know not what? Haha!.

Monday’s Sunsettings’

Monday’s Fish Supper

Evening all!

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – With Odeing

Crime in Nottingham, enough to send you demented…
Oh, Dementia Doreen already has my mind fragmented,
Price rises on everything; I’m genuinely wherrited!
Compassion, empathy and caring have been disrupted…
No, better words are demolished and corrupted!

Police Assault Increase

Different targets, to beat-up… it’s the truth…
This will please the thirteen-year-old youths,
Who attacked and knocked out a coppers’ tooth!
Or the twelve-year-old, driving a car into a flatfoot…
A sixteen-year-old stabbed and kicked an officer, to boot!

From giving adequate sentencing, the law is abstaining…
A murderer arrested gave the officer a bludgeoning…
However, the criminal is not complaining…
He got his early release after campaigning…
Our legal system needs condemning!

Another murder?
This doesn’t inspire…
Things are getting direr…
Death by ed by fire?
Killed by a burglar?
Mayhaps a genocider?
Emotions and fear, a quagmire!
Crime, accident? I’ll hangfire

Arson?

A requirement to do two thirds?
Gawd, our judges, are soft turds!

Huh!

Top report on Covid, +22,8% new cases over the last fortnight,
Another peak will put us all in a plight…
Bottom report 40% increase… we are in the kite?
Anti-maskers again ready to fight!.

More policemen injured working,
Courts still spanking wrists, befuddling!
Got bail, free, to attack again – backpedalling?
For the police, this must be very galling!

Words fail me!

Violence is rampant now…
Take that, thump, kick kapow!
Instead of having a pow-wow,
From Newcastle to Hounslow…
Guns, knives, and fist blow…
Last week, burglars used a bow & arrow!

Was this caused by sleeping with the wrong fellow?
Or did too much-shoplifted alcohol freely flow?
Did someone not return a borrowed wheelbarrow?
A dispute over unshared winnings at Bingo?
Did one think it right to whistleblow?
Did one pass on a disease, like, impetigo?
Mayhaps one stood on the others’ hammertoe?
But I really don’t want to know…
Far too much violence and aggro!

Yep!

Odiously ‘Orrible Odes on Ageing

Inchcocks advice and tips, for whippersnappers who think they will live forever, in diabolical ode. You Won’t!

Be Prepared

It’s essential that you prepare, cause nobody else will care…
Unless you’re loaded, with plenty of cash to betroth, spare,
Have you spent it? Holidays, big car and you’ve safaried?
I’m just explaining how it will be for you, not to be morbid…
I don’t mind if my tips are not absorbed…
All a part of living is death, don’t be worried!

Oh, and there’s nothing to say that you should be hurried!
You may find that you could later, yourself bedrid…
You’ll need help if yer on yer own, and feeling dogeared,
Paying for Carers must not be feared…
New ailments will by now have reared…
You can expect this; it’s normal, not weird!

The family may call to help, your bank balance cleared,
Your reputation may diminish, become smeared…
Help might be harder to get; tell them you are disorientated…
You’ll make them a beneficiary, you’ll be genuflected!
They may make you a brew, say you’ve been neglected…
Then you may die of poisoning… they’ll be suspected!

If you own your own house, but not if it’s rented…
You’ll be treated well, as is to be expected…
The not seen for years crowd will be attracted…
Looking for the Will, but it won’t be protracted,
It’s essential to avoid them becoming malcontented…
Pick your times when to tell them you’re demented!

Them topping you, at all costs must be prevented,
Promise each one a little extra, don’t get resented!
Unless, of course, death will make you contented…
Tell them you’ve sorted their money, all consented…
But, remember who you’ve promised, you may get assaulted!
Or, at minimum, your face resculptured!

When the Doctor tells you, the end is anticipated…
You may wish they’d told you later, waited…
Unknown relatives calling will be prompted,
Is his name Keith, Tim, Richard or Ted?
Not that it matters, cause you could soon be dead!

Ailments Roster

Stroke, Cataracts Diabetes: To Be Added

In my young days, ailments that were lurking,
Were Polio, Double pneumonia, & getting a caning…
Not that I’m sorry, but of all, I was ailing…
We didn’t have to put up with too much burgling,
Sore throat, toothache? Meant saltwater gurgling,
We knew nowt about Cocaine or methamphetamine!

In my teens, there were very few ailments troubling,
Of course, romance took precedence; ah, romancing! ♥
I got into it, even went to the nightclub, dancing…
But I broke my leg one night, and I was only waltzing!
For Suzie, should I try dancing again? I was dithering…
But she left me when the Twist arrived, very belittling!

I met a gal from near Berlin… who really got me going!
Grizelda her name, big lass, solid-built and liked her gin…
But she had to go home; I was lonely again…
Oh, sorry, from the subject I am straying…
Not precisely an ailment, but I got shot while working…
Made redundant, unfair, and I wasn’t shirking!

Then the ailments started coming, flooding…
Duodenal ulcer, Arthur Itis, needed a new heart put in!
Reflux Roger, eyesight failing, and I lost my hearing…
Sadly, that was the end of motorcycling,
So I bought Robin Reliant, though it was exciting…
Sat in a car park, a lorry hit me, anger was igniting!

Then peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed…
Got shot again, then made redundanted,
Life started backpedalling…
But you can learn from my failing!
It’s no point in wailing…
Life is never plain sailing!

When I had the stroke, then I started wailing,
Hospital four weeks, then a home for the ailing…
For five weeks, it was appalling!
Things got worse, they lost my washing…
Gave me no food one day; everyone else was noshing?
I don’t think I’ll ever again go abseiling?

Weeks later, the eyesight faded more, blurring?
Went to see the optician… revealing…
Cataracts and glaucoma in both eyes, they so sting…
Saccades in the right eye never heard of this thing…
The NHS said there is an average of 48-weeks waiting!
Nothing much-going right, or compensating…

Weeks later, I went virtually deaf, hardly any hearing…
In either lughole… both channels were wax-filling…
Since which, four times a day, the olive oil dropping in…
The left worse than the right, ‘Grumbling!’
Not hearing my doorbell tune ringing…
Not the telephone’s ding-a-ling; this’s frustrating!

I took a tumble in the shower, ablutionalisationing,
You’ll get to accept these; they are a part of being…
Doddery, not having yet mastered the walking stick.
Fears and worries will need camouflaging…
Oh, and shopkeepers will try over-charging…
Or more likely short-changing…

With the arrival of Vascular Dementia Doreen coming…
Means problems with organising and remembering…
Dizzy Dennis, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley bothering…
Thought Storms, your brain will need defragging,
The kettles broke, and the toilet is not flushing…
Hopes for the future, you’ll find languishing!

Sock-Glide-Glenda

Sock-Glide-Glenda, to be used after ablutioning!
Very good for bodily parts mutilating…
It can be avoided by not going out, staying in…
But you’ll have to go out to get your medications and gin?
I can assure you, in Sock-Glide-Glenda executing…
You’ll be injured, cut, bruised or exsanguinating!

I solved this painful problem by hibernating…
In the flat, the brain stopped activating…
No perambulating or hobbling… boring!
Although Carers called, to do the medicating…
Some of them like a little chinwagging,
I look forward to the talking Carer’ visiting!

So, Whippersnappers, this you must be expecting…
Keep your wits about you, when Glendaring,
Germolene, plasters and Phorpain gel nearby waiting,
A blood blister, cut, or bruise can really sting!
Worse if you have a boil or carbuncle erupting!
These odes are just tips; I’m not instructing…
Just future problems for you, detecting…
Please don’t see this ode as floccinaucinihilipilificating!

Overview on Inchcocks’ Life

I’ve led a super-fun life; I’m not complaining,
Lived life to the full, wind, sun or raining…
I’ve had so much sex; it’s been disorientating!
Earnt a fortune – I don’t mean to be drum-beating,
I’ve had battles but can’t remember taking a beating…
I’d got through life with faith, honesty and collaborating,
Oh, there’s just one other thing…
This last verse was all me fibbing!

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh Ode Series

Rube Goldberg – Bill Ziegler: The Connection

A Rube Goldberg machine, named after American cartoonist Rube Goldberg (born July 4, 1883, San Francisco, California, U.S.—died December 7, 1970, New York, New York), is a chain reaction-type machine or a contraption intentionally designed to perform a simple task in an indirect and overly complicated way. Brilliant!.

My cyber buddy, Bill Ziegler, put me onto Rube’s work, and I found it hilarious. What a brain to turn these out! I decided to make a graphic of Bill and partner HRH Lisa, a fantastic pair of people. ♥

I decided to try and make a graphicalisation of Billum. Billum is a clever chap, scientist, scholar with mathematical tendencies, and is jolly good-natured. Cause his sense of humour is similar to mine, and I hope he likes them.

With a mock Rube Goldberg machine and added the difficult to create one, below. Adding HRH Lisa in there, of course. ♥

The one below took me several days to do cause of my cataracts. I shall have to stop making them soon; it’s too painful. But I was determined to get this one completed for Bill.

I wonder what Bill will think he’s making? Hehehe!

I love to make folks smile or laugh, as do Bill and Lisa 💙

Hope you like it, mate!

Local News Snippets – Part 12â…—ths

Local News Snippets

Whoever did this, is the lowest scumball,
With no morals, decency or pride at all!
Humanities decline is continual,
They are without care and principal…
Shamefully these crimes are not unusual…
Nor in London, Leeds, Manchester and Walsall,
Yet, no worse than many politicians in Whitehall!

What? She’s drunk a bottle of Baccardi!
Should have stuck with tea, safer, you see?
Or stuck to massaging just the man’s knee!
I wonder if she offered him an apology?
58-years old she acted rather adolescently,
Should have known better, putting it bluntly,
I think she really should have consulted me!

Cor blimey, an increase in cases, well blow me!
We are not yet from Covid, going to be free!
Caused by the citizens’ recent complacency…
Going back in shops without masks, crapulently!
And nightclubs, get-togethers, restaurants too!
But that’s just jealousy… things that I can’t do!

Well, these two scumbags will test the jurisprudence!
They are totally unaware, of the harm and despair…
Concerned on where their next fix comes hence!
The harm caused to innocent victims? They do not care!
They’ll ignore help offered of rejuvenescence…
Their next needle or drink, in the dustbin they share!
The young, old, weak are all targets – so be aware!

The poor things have sunken low with flatulence…
Are in need of help really, through their indigence…
They get the drug money, through grandiloquence…
But mostly muggings old folk, and belligerence!
Letting them of lightly, has proved its idempotence…
Satisfying me, of their existence, nature of feculence!

The poor bus driver, need a number-two, he decided…
So, off to the only one in town, he was riveted!
Closed down, vandalised since he last visited!
This left him nonplussed and he fidgetted…
Can a nasty-underpants accident be thwarted?
It frit him a few times when he farted…
The Council can be so cold-hearted!

Serious Comment from Inchcock
This scares me, now I’m in the early stages of Vascular Dementia, I’m getting nervous. After getting Peripheral Neuropathy, then having the stroke, the hospital had to send me to a ‘Home’ for three weeks, before I could be sent back to my flat. Some of the things I saw there and had to endure was frightening, and that Nottingham Council Home, had a good H&S rating! Eventually, I suppose it will have to come to this… it’ll be worse next time, with the Cataracts not being seen to, the Glaucoma and right eye Saccades will all have to be done after the Cataracts. Each Cataract could take, according to the NHS site up to 48 weeks waiting time, and I have both eyes to be treated! And cannot have another eye test and new spectacles until they have all been treated successfully. With Vascular Dementia Doreen getting a better grip on me slowly, I worry
!

Nice to see 3-years for his female accompanist,
19 years for Jake, the young scum murderist?
But let’s not get too happy and alarmist…
It’s not long enough for this adiaphorist,
Whoever gave this sentence, a good few years were missed!

A least they caught him, of that I am pleased…
He’ll likely be out in ten years, for that I am pissed!
A life term should be that… or is there summat I’ve missed?
Murderers’ sentences should be increased!

Far too early they are freed…
So many of them to kill again indeed!
No deterrent, no hardships to intercede!
They should be fed on carrots and swede…

If they behave… on grilled meat flies they can feed!
Do the killers no harm to be ravished…
Then they can have their toenails revarnished?
Get exercise from a velocipede…
Do their own washing, clean up after they’ve pee’d…

Well, well, another Nottingham Murder!
There are lots of murders for a Wearsider,
To some areas, it’s a matter of pride!
Like in Liverpool, London and Tynesider
Not in for a resident Togolander…
But far less than for a Thailander,
Sorry, I’ve started to meander…
Back to the Local murders, makes me shudder,
Stabbings and shootings, locally we are a titleholder,
More murders than anywhere in England… Per Capita!
Two, within a mile; I’m getting scarederer!

As a rule, all 3 Green Houses are usually missed,
I expect this, I’m not lucky if you get my grist…
From doing this game, I can’t resist…
This week’s record of hits each day, well if you insist…
0,0,1,0.1, yet hitting two in five days; I was impressed…
I’m feeling rather pleased and chuffed!

Inchcock Today: Ode to Sanity – Part11â…’th

ODE TO THE THOUGHT-STORMS
Inspired while Inchy was waiting for the action to start at his mornings’ Porcelain Throne visitation. It took a while!

The Thought-Storms on the Throne are getting nastier!
No respite, the evacuation stopped halfway, I got edgier…
The questions came at me; it couldn’t be crappier…
It’ll be a while before the pain stops, and I feel any happier!

Any logic in the Thoughts couldn’t have been scantier…
From the fear of loneliness, Putin, and questioning Santa!
Should I have a mug of tea or a can of Fanta?
The Thoughts mingled became silly and schleppier…

Hopes, then worries, self-pity, to pathetic fear!
Strangely, after so many years, I fancied a beer!
The brain was making me feel dizzy, oddly queer…
The nose began to run, and it got even leakier!

My confidence in coping died, I became even qualmier…
The Thought-Storm was driving me balmier…
I noticed that my stomach looked lardier…
And Little Inchies fungal lesion got itchier?

The Thought-Storms had me by the jugular…
I tried to fool them and acted jauntier…
Talking to myself, battling the brain,
I couldn’t move because of the evacuation pain!
The whole situation became worse again…
When Neuropathic Pete got me shaking, jitterier!

I knew that later on, things would calm down, likelier…
Suddenly the room felt cold, much parkier…
I even began to shake and shiver?
Gawd, things were getting nigglier!
I felt I was going even loonier!

The evacuation flowed again, which made me panickier,
Should I give a push, or leave it, which would be riskier?
Then the Thought Storms got even bolshier…
And the room felt like a fridge; it got so much chillier?
Was I still in the recliner dreaming? Or going crazier?

Then for once, I got luckier…
I stood up, feeling pluckier…
The evacuation ended alright,
As I pushed with all my might,
It had been a struggle and fight,
I’d won, no bleeding, I felt leerier…

For the Thought Storms stopped then…
As stubbed my toe on the tungsten…
I don’t usually appreciate the pain often…
But the Thought-Storms stopping was a gem!

Part of the Inchies True Make Them Laugh In Ode Series

Inchcock Today: Wednesday Welches

Catch-Up

The Sweet & Sour bread was well buttered and filled with plenty of the delightful tasting Polish Szynka Biata pork. My own recipe of burnt BBQ flavoured chips and sliced black tomato. An orange jelly and spray cream dessert. I enjoyed it all. Flavour rating 7.5/10.

It wasn’t that special. The bread tasted so different to any other I’ve ever had, a little sweeter perhaps. It was not over-appealing to me. But not worth the asking price of £1.89 for a 400g sliced loaf. I’ll not waste what’s left cause I still have some of the tasty Szynka pork to use up.

As I exited the wet room from doing my ablutions, I walked yet again into the doorframe, giving it a decent shoulder charge in the process. Swear? Me? Yes!

Pondering over which tea to use for my evening cuppa; Glengettie, Thompsons Punjana or JS Extra Strong, I observed the shallow sunset appearing, so I got my camera and took these shots arrayed of the left here.

I made the brew and Eurgh! It was not even warm, let alone boiled? I switched the kettle back on, washed the mug out, turned, and the kettle had stopped working altogether! I fiddled with the contact points and tried again. Ah! it’s lit up…

All to no avail. It switched itself off again! Now, this is a severe dilemma I’m in! A man, an Englishman, denied his mug of tea? Horrendous! No option other than to use the saucepan then. It’s not going to beat me, oh, no!

But it did! Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s neurotransmitters failed at the flipping wrong time – just as I was pouring the water into the mug! The water had spilt onto my first-time worn, new pyjama bottoms, scolded the thigh a smidge, and I now have one more petite China mug to use! But the Whoopsies didn’t end there; oh, No!

After cleaning up the mess, (Have you ever tried mopping a floor while using a walking stick? It’s not easy!) I’d just finished clearing up and decided that regrettably, a mug of tea was too dangerous without the kettle… well, I mean, trying to use a saucepan with my problems is a no-no! But I remembered Sister Jane telling me she uses the microwave to make her tea, so I tried it out…

I put the water in the mug and placed it in the microwave. I set it on high for three minutes (just a guess!) and kept my nose close to the glass to look for any signs of bubbling water… It started so quickly, and by the time I’d opened the door to get the mug out, the water had all evaporated, or to be more precise, had evacuated the cup for the microwave! Great! Now I dare not use the oven for fear of the water getting into the electrics! Crying was an option, of course… I ended up having a drink of spring water. That making a brew didn’t go according to plan, did it?

Ode To Wednesday’s Whateverisms

What isms can I expect to find today? Yes, Accifauxparisms,
Whoopsiedangleploperisms, and hooliganisms…
From spoon-in-the mouth bosses? Hobbledehoyisms,
If I was younger, I’d fancy some flirtationalisms…
It’s a growing cult, so perhaps some heathenisms?
If you see a German, you’ll get gutturalisms!
Or an American politician – greenbackisms!
On Grammarly, I’ll find grammaticisms…
From the local yobbery will come gangsterisms,
The librarian or Hippy, mayhaps Freudianisms?
From local back-handed Councillors? Favouritisms!
At the local food takeaway, botulism that poisons!
Your local police force, parking tickets and heroisms…
From the motorways, drunken fatalisms…
From Putin? Mostly, falsisms, but also cataclysms!

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

06:15hrs: I stirred back into imitation life, and as the Thought-Storms started, I was rescued by the need to use the Porcelain Throne. Bungled my elephantine flabby body out of the £300 second-hand c1968 recliner and made my way gingerly to the wet room. I thought that was a good idea cause the Porcelain Throne is in there!

As I got inside and rested Metal Mickey on a flat bit of the floor, it dawned on me, miraculously, that the J Sainsbury order is coming today! Crikey, it’s due 06:30 > 07:30hrs! It could arrive at any time.

But of course, the evacuation had to be a rock-solid affair again. I can assure you, urgently pushing cement with your tummy muscles in haste to rid yourself of your own waste is painful! Try not to do it unless it is imperative!

I was coming out of the wet room door, and the intercom which was facing me in the hallway flashed. Talk about just making it! But I still can’t hear the pathetic weak jingle it gives off.

The chap transferred the things from his plastic boxes into my cardboard ones in a jiffy. I gave him a choice of cans in thanks (Gin lime & Lemonade), and off he went. Not a lot there today?

As I unloaded the boxes, I realised there was a lot there.

The cut cobs had one days’ date on them. Substituted the flowers for dearer ones. Not that it really matters; I wanted them to treat Jenny and Francis. Something that didn’t matter was replaced. But the cheese curls were very hard! Bit of a disappointment that was

The fridge did not look very full after I’d emptied things and stored them away? A bit baron, I thought. Or is it me, being got at by Dementia Doreen again? Hehe!

Enough Doreen! Leave me alone, please! I’ll give some of the bananas to Richard when he comes; I ordered a bunch of five, at least I thought I did, or I meant to…

I put the daffodils in separate bags and kept them in the cool and darkness of the hallway. I’ll take them down later on, too early yet awhile to disturb folks who may be sleeping…

Ah! That takes me back… Sleeping! Hahaha! ♫Those were the days, my friend; I thought they’d never end…♫

Carer Richard came in without ringing the chime. Made me jump a bit. No way I can hear anyone knocking on the door. I was initially concerned that the chimer may have broken. Till he told me he had on the door. Well, it is the end of his shift. Haha! Bound to be feeling tired now.

A good lad is Richard. We had a chinwag after he’d done the medications for me, making the time, although he should be trotting off home now. Didn’t want to keep him too long. He also checked the dates on stuff in the fridge for me that were too small for me to read.

I felt a downturn in spirits when Richard had left, and the mind blanks began. I hate it when getting these blank spots! They are still going off all day, for a minute or two, or half an hour or an hour.

I knew I could not get any more photos loaded on the computer, so I stopped taking them. Spent more hours making errors and correcting them on the blog. Everything takes so long to do compared to 6-months ago.

Worra-life! Miniature tackle from birth, the eyes are going with Kathleen Cataracts, Glaucoma Glenda, and Saccades Sandra. The ears blocked, Shaking Shaun, Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, with his neurotransmitters failing, all affected, along with my sanity, concentration and memory, by the big one – Vascular Dementia Doreen! Heck, I’m coming down in spirits suddenly… WHY?

I decided to take the flowers to Jenny and Francis, my treat; I hope it perks people up a smidge. Although later, Jenny emailed me telling me I didn’t have to bother. Which didn’t help me to cheer up much! I had to stop blogging for a while, not that it was going well anyway.

I had another blank while out taking the flowers. I can recall Frank talking to me and a few seconds with Francis, but going in the lifts may as well as not have happened, for I have no memory of using the elevators at all?

I obviously got back in the flat cause I was fiddling with the kettle, trying to get it to work, and wondered how I got there? Comical in one way but scary in another.

The snotty one was drilling when I got back to the computer, but it was still dour progress. Herbert kept the noise to short bursts, intentional or not; I appreciated that.

I went onto the balcony to take a photo of the end car park and decided not to bother. This is the only photo I could get onto the computer of the holes and cracks in the balcony roof joints.

Ups and downs today! I spent hours more blogging and was beginning to enjoy it a bit more when for some inexplicable but heaven-sent reason, the Neurotransmitters made contact with the brain! And stayed that way for about an hour; it was utter bliss! It couldn’t last I realised that, but it was so nice to type and know when the finger ends made contact with every button I hit on the keyboard.

The evening carer is due shortly; it’s that late! So, I’ll get some fodder sorted out… Oh, better do the belated Heath Checks first.

Here we go. Oh, heckithump! SYS 164 DIA 66, Temp 34.1°c.

Then, Little Inchies fungal lesion just started bleeding without anything happening to cause it, as far as I know. I suppose I could have knocked it during a mind-blank, but no, it would have bled then, not now hours later? Also, pain when I cleaned things up and applied the Daktacort ointment. I cringed a little and may have uttered something along the lines of “Oh, heck, that stung a bit!” Ahem! Confusion Conrad joins us!

I made up an evening meal, but not what I planned to make. All four foods were excellent and tasty. The garden peas, the yellow tomatoes, the ready-cooked smoked bacon, and above all, the Cheesy-Twists, tasted heavenly! They had been overcooked, with hard crispy edges on them both, but that is how I like them! Ah, well, I ate it all up.

Evening Carer Valerie arrived, as I was just finishing the nosh off. It was all guesswork as to what she said; the gal has a low voice for hearing, bless her. I offered her a choice of nibble or drink in thanks. She took a handful. Hahaha! Valerie took the black waste bag with her to the chute for me. ♥

I finished off the meal, washed up, and settled down in search of Sweet Morpheus, that’d have been around 19:00hrs. At midnight, I was still battling the infamously, sleep-destroying, pestering Thought-Storms. Gragnangles!

Inchcock Today: Police Interview at Bank!

INCHCOCK TODAY

Inchcock Interviewed!

Ode to the Bank Manager Interview

The photo wot I made up above today,
Is purely fictitious and a bit of fun, I say,
The Bank Manager, and Jillie, who saved the day…
Went through my transactions chronologically…
Wanted to know were they actually done by me…
They went through everything thoroughly…
Every price, product and reason, in minutiae!

The Police attended, to my initial dismay!
I’ve been calm… have I committed an affray?
Initially, my mind was confused, in disarray…
They even asked who had been on eBay?
“Me, once, sent there by Amazon last Tuesday!”
Jillie handled things for me magnificently!
Showing patience, no signs of stress on display,

When the Police arrived, Jillie went away…
Difficult my hearing things; it felt like roleplay…
My appreciation of the Bank, I can’t overplay!
They thought someone might have been at me…
Cajoling me to spend money on them…
Doreen Dementia made me act dysfunctionally,
The card was reinstated, authoritatively!

After three hours, and all sorted almost casually…
The actions from the Bank went assuringly,
Jillie was there to conduct things, thankfully!
She’s saved the day again, not admonishingly…
Once more, she’s tamed my worries wonderfully!

Tuesday 8th March 2022

I couldn’t get to sleep last night for love or money. At about 06:00hrs, I drifted off for five minutes. I noticed that cause I turned on the TV to watch the news… but didn’t. As I suddenly needed the Porcelain Throne, so off to the wet room.

All my worries over the bank business, eyesight, hearing etc., faded. To be replaced with the evacuation that has started had stopped mid-way.

CW05Getting things moving again was not only painful; it took me ages! I counted the veins on my right thigh; they seem to have increased a fair bit? Hey-Ho! Whistled a little, then got the crossword book out. I needn’t have bothered with it cause racing the clues was virtually impossible with Kathleen’s Cataracts and Glaucoma.

Got the ablutions sorted out. All went pretty well, apart from Harold’s horrendously hard-pressed Haemorrhoids!

Carer Richard arrived. I told him of the wrong medications being given to me last night. Said he’d mention it to the office. I tried again to ring Jillie, but no answer. I was in a tizwas about the Bank and not in a talkative mood, other than to moan at the poor lad. Richard did his best to settle me and took the bags out with him as he departed.

Aha! Boy, what a joy that was to hear! Sweet Jillie called me, and bless her kind nature, she said she’d meet me at the Bank at 09:30hrs.

I hastened to get things done in time and set off at 09:00hrs on the hobble down the hill. Down the elevator and out of the main foyer.

Along Chestnut Way, right down Winchester Street, and doing a reasonable pace. I met Angel Jillie near her house, and we went straight to the Bank, entering and pathetically leaving all the talking with the manageress to Jillie.

What I can recall of Interview/Interrogation

09:30hrs: We entered the collosium… erm, Bank. Bearing in mind, I didn’t hear a lot of what they said, but I did pick up most of what Jillie translated for me all the way through.

Into the back office. This was easy for me; Jillie was doing all the hard work explaining things. I just gave confirmation on something.

Then the eight A4 pages of transactions from my account were gone through… one at a time, requiring me to explain why and what reason was each thing bought! This took up over an hour.

Then Grammarly and WordPress charges were gone through in minutiae, needing to know why again and what was for. This filled out another hour or so. I got a sense that they were only questioning me to find out if I really did spend all this money or was some naughty person involved?

The ladies had a little natter between themselves, which I wasn’t a party to, and both left the room. Jilly said the manager would be back in ten minutes, and off they trotted. I sat sitting and counted the number of plugs in an overloaded-looking extension of sockets behind the computer… oh yes… Fifteen! Picked my nose a bit, wishing I knew what was going on… 

The manageress returned, with a police officer – hello, I thought, what have done wrong now? Hehehe! She started to ask all sorts of investigative questions. Very cleverly. I may have put her off her stroke a little by keeping asking her to repeat what she said, but she soon got me opening up. She’d done such a good job, I was beginning to wish I could confess about something to her. Hahaha! But being as I am known as a none-gambler or risk-taker nowadays… Gawd, it’s my first time outdoors for about a month or more… I had no guilt for me to divulge. Jillie returned, and I was told the card had been reactivated… I wanted to say, “I wish you could reactivate me… but thought better of it.

Jillie helped me get some cash from the dispenser, and we nipped to the Ozan continental store, me in search of bread and cooked meat. Jillie found some sweet & sour rye bread! I’ve never seen any before, but I will try some tonight with the unpronounceable name, Polish cooked pork that is delicious, and tomatoes. That’s the plan, anyway.

The bread feels very heavy and solid. I bet it’s going to be delicious, well-best-buttered with the Polish pork… Mmm!

We meandered out and up to Winchester Street and parted company at the bus stop. Jillie has to get back home. She’s a lot of work waiting for her. Which shows just how kind she is to me, leaving that to help me out, yet again. 💘

I caught the bus up to the flats, and a Carer got on the bus; I think it was Priscilla. But you know me and Carers’ names. Infamously memory-challenged, that’s me! Hehe!

When we got to the Winwood Court, I entered through Winchester Court and Winwood court to Woodthorpe Court. A lot of courts, innit? I met Jenny’s Frank outside the Wardens office, not been seeing him for a while. Splendid chap. Then went in to visit ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenführeress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. Had little natter, but she was busy, bless her. Got up into the flat, 12:20hrshrs; definitely a happier bunny than yesterday.

I worked on this blog for five hours; the going was so slow.

Getting the photos on the computer had several failed attempts, then on about the fifth, I got some on from last night.

I had several poorly failed photographicalisations that I took around 18:00hrs on Tuesday of the planet. The moon shots, I’d taken many failed efforts, managed to get a few passable ones. Which I placed here on the left.

You Fool Inchcock! I meant Monday, of course, today being Tuesday. I got there in the end.

These two were the least bad of the selection. Obviously affected by either Shaking Shaun or Peripheral Neuropathy Pete. Maybe even Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley? The bottom one, I made the moon look like… well, I don’t know now. I KNEW when I first saw it, but it seems to have escaped me now.

I got a friendly call from Jenny, asking how I went on at the Bank. Nice lady! 💕

Another three hours of slow-going doing this blog. Error-ridden, frustrating… but with Jillie sorting out the bank business, I didn’t seem to mind so much!

Then the ♫ Oh Susan ♫ tune announced the arrival of evening Carer. It was the American gal, Julia. Another sweet, patient, kind, unassuming, gentle gal. So, generous too. After issuing the medications, Julia gave me a little natter and tried to help me sort out the mobile texting. 💗

After she had gone, I tried again to get the missed pictures on the computer. I got the last nights’ meal one on, but the other missing ones would not load at all again. Grumph and Balderdash! Most frustrating! I think I’ll have to leave it here; with no sleep last night, I’ll give up on this blog; I know I have at least two photos more not loaded. I’ll try again in the morning, now I’ll try to catch up with WP Reading and commentating, then get my sarnies made and head down.