Inchie Today

Inchcock Today: Diary, including the Evening Dream – In Ode

Saturumday 5th February 2022

INCHCOCK TODAY

Back to the horrible nocturnalisationings, like sleeping poorly, again! Oh boy, am I pissed off with this or what! I spent more time awake than asleep last night!

Endlessly waking up with a jump, then working out what time and day it was, and where I was! It was soul-destroying. I should think I must have woken at least two dozen times, more often than not needing a wee-wee! Cursing at my situation every time! Then just when I decided to get up, I fell asleep for the most extended period all night! It lasted for about an hour.

Amazingly, I rose from the uncomfortable depths of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner, with almost ease! There was a complete absence of any hassle from Reflux Roger, Anne Gyner, Toothache Thomas, Duodenal Donald, Shaking Shaun (although he had a few goes at me later in the morning).

Caught my balance and checked on the legs because Arthur Itis and CCP (Cartilage Cathy’s Patella) were both giving me pain the moment I got any weight (And I’ve plenty of that!) on the plates and pins. Vasculitis and venous thromboembolism, and veins were remarkable by their absence!

But it seemed that only CCP and Arthur were worth worrying about. Grrreat!

Indeed, both feet looked in such a fine state I had to take a photo of them. Were they really mine?

This doesn’t happen very often, so I was already preparing to go into Smug-Mode!), that the J Sainsbury order is due this morning, and I don’t have a lot of time to prepare for them, with my getting up so late. Partly dressed (that’s as far as I got all day, Tsk!), I wandered hobblingly into the kitchenette to make a brew of Glengettie. It came to mind…

While the kettle was boiling, I took this snap of the morning view, catching the edge of the window frame to give a perspective of the actual sizing. I’ve forgotten why I thought of doing this now.

As I turned to get the kettle, CCP gave way in the right knee; boy, did she pain me! The knee nearly gave way a few more times as well. I’m hoping nothing like last week with Cathy popping out of her patella socket happens again. The whole joint was aching for hours after this? Mmm?

I made a brew and had a mug of Thompsons Punjana. Took it with me to the computer and made a start on finalising yesterdays blog. And before I could get to drink it, “♫ Oh, Susana… ♫” music chimed up from the door buzzer. It was Carer Cassandra; she was in a much lighter mood this morning. (Meridian Health & Social Care do not have any bosses on duty at the weekend, and Nottingham City Homes have no ILCs (Independent Living Coordinators) working weekends either). I assume that this is why the Carers are a little more cheerful? Unless, of course, some Carer has not turned up or left the job (a lot of them do that!), and that they have been called in to cover, of course. Haha!

Cassie soon got the medications sorted, and we even ad a little natter… well, I did. Har-har! Cassie departed, taking my waste bag with her, and I went to make another mug of tea…

I knocked over the milk bottle, but it only fell on its side, which I appreciated muchly and took a photo of it to prove that I do sometimes have good luck… in a way.

The intercom flashed; I presume it sounded as well, but I couldn’t hear it. Pressed the release button, and within two minutes, the ♫Oh Susana♫ tune rang forth again”. Grand deliveryman took the boxes through to the kitchen for me. Only four items missing out of stock this week. Much better than last week’s 14! Got the fresh stuff sorted and stored away in the fridge. The fridge is now looking well-stocked again but not overloaded.

A few items of cleaning and bleaching were put in the cupboards in the wet room and kitchenette.

Putting the canned cupboard supplies away cost me a lot of time. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s nerve ends lost contact a few times while I reached up to put them on the shelves.

In fact, I ended up throwing a couple of items up to the top shelf, but I don’t think anything broke.

Having said that, I’m sure I have more than a few dented cans in there now. However, I’m well off for kinds of vinegar seasonings and have a few cans of various vegetables to fall back on… not literally mind. Although, if CCP (Cartilage Cathy’s Patella) has her way, shell have me over some time today. I can feel her efforts, little twinges, in readiness to floor me!

Got the fodder away and applied some of the impotent, not fit for the job, but better than nothing, Phorpain gel rubbed well into the kneecap vicinity. I also took an extra Codeine 30g tablet. Because each time I put pressure in the joint, I can now feel a sort of grating from within the knee. Along with the seconds long periods of it feeling like it’s going to give, then it comes back? Ah well, fingers crossed!

I took a couple of pictures from inside the balcony. Of the end car park and Chestnut Walk below the front of the building. The red van man continues to park on the yellow hatched area and the White hatchback on the double yellow lines. And they say young men are bad drivers?

Whilst doing the blog, the lighting charged rather quickly outside.

Took a photograph of the changed sky colouring. I think this means rain on the way?

The weather made a liar of me within ten minutes, the sky turned blue, and a contrail showed up. Caught it with the Canon.

Back on the computer, I heard a clattering noise to accompany Herberts tap-tapping. I was sure it came from the kitchen, so I got up to investigate the clatterings source. But without any success, I’m afraid.

I had a go on Facebooking, Winwood Heights and the TFZer site. After about an hour or so, a loud (well, it would have to have been for me to hear it) similar metallic-sounding noise was heard again? I got a little confused as I could listen to Herbert above knocking away again. But, I felt the metallic sounds were coming from the kitchen. But, again, could find no cause of them?

All a part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghost, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, and pretentious, uppity, snobby, pernickety, smug, stuck-up, neighbour above, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? I really believe that it did not come from the sanctified, consecrated, uncommunicative, ascetic, eremitic, aloof, arrogant slimeballs apartment above. Mmm?

I thought later, could it be the contents of the food cupboards that I could not get in the cupboard properly?

So, off into the kitchenette for yet another investigation.

As I searched each cupboard again, silence fell from Herbert’s flat. Oh, I hope he’s not dropped dead or is poorly… Ahem!

I couldn’t find owt not in order, or that could have caused the mystery racket?

The expected rain was coming down.

Decided to do the Medical Checks and just look at the BP figures that I got from the sphygmomanometer!

The lowest I’ve ever had! Brilliant! But baffling.

This follows a series of readings: SYS 168 Dia 62, SYS 148 Dia 76, SYS 149 Dia 62, now the excellent SYS 117 Dia 66! Yee-Haa! Fully in the Green for the first time ever!

The pulse was 74, and the body temperature 34.6°c. I think that is okay too!

Then I gave the knee another covering of the Phorpain gel.

The right knee still looked a smidge knobbly and was still a grating feeling when I applied any pressure as I walked. It doesn’t look or feel like it

is Arthur Itis playing up, rather more as if it is Cartilage Cathy.

However, the spider and veins were all looking well down today. The DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) clumps had disappeared!

Blimey, where’s the time gone to? The Carer will be here soon, and I’m not changed or had anything to eat yet! I treated myself to a lemon Viennese biscuit.

Got the oven on to use later to cook the beef pastie and some chips. Then plodded on with updating this blog.

A short bout of noise from Herbert. He just wants me to know that I have no chance of him stopping making noise, Bless Him!

I was preparing the late nosh, when the sound of ♫Oh, Susana♫, indicated the arrival of the evening Carer, Valerie tonight. I remembered I had an Easter Egg for her in the spare room, and I fetched it for her. She read some dates of the food in the kitchen for me, all were in date. Phew! She sorted the medications for me and was soon off, but tonight we did manage a mini natter, which was nice. Valerie took the waste bags to the chute with her. ♥

I got the meal finished and served onto the plate and tray. A sourdough baguette for one, which was delightfully tasty! BBQ seasoned sliced potatoes, yellow and red tomatoes. I put a pot of dipping sauce on the tray, mainly for the sourdough-dipping. Hehe! The Cornish pastie was a different one this time. J Sainsbury’s pack of four. It shamed Iceland’s and Morrison’s ones, and had real flavour with not too much spicing in it… oh, and the sliced mini-bits of spuds were nice to the palette. A pleasant surprise for me. Overall, a Flavour-Rating of 8.2/10… got to be precise on these things. Hehehe!

The sleep was better than of late. Only about six shooting-awakes all night. On the last one, I woke remembering some bits of a dream I’d been having. There is an Ode to the Dream Ode, I wrote in the morning:

Ode to the Dream Ode

It’s a long time since I recalled summat I was dreaming,
In a room with many folks, like at a housewarming…
Female admirers around me were swarming!
Even in the dream, I didn’t become assuming…
Why me, all around were young men, convening,
Every one of them, the ladies were declining…
I could tell, to the lads, this was disheartening…
Even to me, this was a little disquietening!
It is me, that the girls wanted to be entwining…
What the heck is going on, happening?

One of the girls was particularly endearing…
Plump gal, about 35, and we hid, our bodies exploring…
She said she was pleased I chose her…Amazing!
How come all the girls suddenly find me appealing?
She said, Helen, I think, it was because of your blogging?
And we started cuddling and snogging…
“But, why, Helen?” I couldn’t resist inquiring…
“We’re all after your recipe for cheesy potatoes, darling!”
Which put an end to our session of pleasuring…

The dream seemed to morph into another rumination,
I was underground in a massive cave, fireflies flickering…
In the dark shadows in and out of view, flittering…
What, who they were, teased my imagination…
I searched, but I could not catch them, disheartening!
I could hear them babbling, mayhaps alien talking?

Aliens or ghosts, either way, I needed verification…
For the fireflies, they seemed to have an affection?
Then I heard a new sound, all around, tintinnabulation,
Damn it, the dream moved on to a railway station!

I was obviously waiting for a train,
Luggage around me, but no ticket to use, who to blame?
Searched my pockets, again and again…
My panic was becoming a pain…
The announcer said something about a train to Dunblane?
Walking on the platform, I saw Neville Chamberlain?
Waving an Amazon card at me, the dream started to wane…
I wanted to stay, learn 1940’s life, I tried to remain…
But, Herbert’s banging about woke me up again!

The Nottingham Lad’s Diary – With Odeing

Inchies Friday Diary: Festivities, gaiety and other fibs! Hehe!

Fort Thomas News Exclusive!

After several years of collecting scientifically challenging reference books, Professor Billum and his partner HRH Lisa, who are now stuck indoors due to the snow, are tackling the job of reducing the number of books in his basement library. He hopes to make room to expand his laboratory and thus, make more room for his medical experiments. Inchcock (rear) said; the task is phenomenal.

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Inchies Friday Diary

Jollities, Festivities, Gaiety and other fibs!

I fang you! A decent kip for once; I reckon I only jumped awake about six times overnight. Not good, of course, but better than the preceding three evenings efforts.

By the time I’d clambered tottering dangerously out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, haemorrhoid-testing, rickety recliner and caught my balance, I realised how evil the eyes were this morning. So, first job the drops, let them settle, then put some of the sprays on them. After this, they were no worse, and maybe I imagined it but seemed a little better than when I woke.

The ablutionalisationing was tackled first, even before thinking of making a brew of Glengettie tea (Worrying that?). It might be the fact that each time I woke up during the night, spongy emissions of wind were evacuating out of the rear end, and Reflux Valve Roger was sticking a bit, then bursting forth, painfully for a minute or two? But, I felt a little stinky, I thought – mayhaps the rear end emissions were going on while I was asleep?

I got inside the wet room, and the mind meandered off on its own. I got the shower going! Boing! I totally forgot what the time was, and after getting the teeth done and shaving with only two tiny minor nicks, thus assuming a Smug-Mode… I still didn’t recognise what I’d done at that time, and I merrily whistled (Which is getting harder each time I lose another tooth) and sang gayly to myself as I started doing the medicationalisationings.

Which soon put an end to the Smug-Moding, whistling and singing! As usual, I got the potentially most painful job of cleaning and creaming Little Inchies fungal lesion out of the way first. Agony! There are no pain or problems with the Saccades eye drops, Harold’s Haemorrhoids cleaning and creaming, ears oiling, or Arthur Itis Phorpain gelling.

As I was about to increase my level of smugness, it dawned on what time it was… and I’d just used the noisy shower – Guilt overerflowethed!

A Carer arrived, name? Erm… Gorrit, Cassie! She was to take the laundry for me on Fridays, starting today. I had got the bag and capsules softener all ready for her. She did the medicationings, and I treated her to some nibbles and a drink, and off she went.

Onto the computer to finalise yesterdays blog and post it. A message came in on the mobile, it was from Iceland Foods… Ah, I hear you now asking – Why did the pillock have another order from Iceland? The silly old goat had one yesterday?

Ahem! Well, that would be due to my Wednesday and Thursday’s Whoopsiedangleplopping. I made some cheesy potatoes for Richard and got his visiting day wrong. So, I gave them to Valerie, who came. Then Thursday, when Richard was calling, I made another dollop of cheesy potatoes for Richard again – then, I had no potatoes left. Hahaha! So I made a minimum order for today to get some more spuds for myself to have. That’s about right, I think.

The rain started to fall, but not too heavily. Then began to get a little threateningly darker out there.

I took this picture from inside the balcony, too wet to open a window.

Shortly, the Intercom rangeth. The Iceland delivery had arrived. I pressed him in, and I hoped it would not be the same driver as yesterday, or he might think me a bit of an idiot having a dirty-great big order, then another on the following day. He’d be right if he did, by the way!

He carried the bag of spuds separately, only two carrier bags, and he took them into the kitchen for me. Haha! I wish the bloke yesterday had taken the eight bags into the kitchenette for me.

I thanked him and let him choose which can of plonk he fancied, and off he trotted with a cheery farewell.

I’m glad I remembered to get the drain-unblocker. Not a lot to sort out this time. I got some cheapo Beef Jerky to go with the freebies to make the minimum order. Oh, and some Cadbury mini rolls.

Sister Jane rang, or did I ring her? One or the other. Dementia Doreen again. Total blank on what we spoke of… indeed am I thinking of yesterday? Sad, innit?

I then rang Obergruppenfürheress, Warden and Ballet Dancer, Deana. Not seen her for a while. The gal was at home. She’d tested positive for SARS-CoV-2 and had been isolating. She hopes to be back on Monday. I said I was ringing to let you know you hadn’t collected your treat bag this week – now I knew why! Said they would keep until Monday. Haha! Nobody tells us owt, do they?

And an hour or so later, the door chime rang out its’ ♫Oh, Susana♫ chime, and in walked Carer Valerie. She had collected my washing for me, and she’d brought it up to me. Bless her cotton socks! She said she’s made sure they were dry enough for me.

So, I got off of the blogging and sorted out the clothes. By gum, that bag holds a lot of stuff. Hehe!

I got in a pickle, found the coat hangers, put some on the door, and spent a good while faffing about. Then realised I was not doing this in a planned, smooth way… Hahaha!

I meant to put all the rousers together on a rack and jumpers shirts on the other.

Which seemed like a logical thing to do.

However, Dementia Doreen had other ideas for me. I ended up with a mixture of trews and jammies on one rack and trews, jumpers and shirts on the other. Ah, well, at least I got them hung so the creases can fall out a bit.

The toploftical, unforthcoming, ascetic, eremitic, aloof, sniffy attituded Herbert had been giving me some tapping on and off for an hour or so. Now, he’s just gone into Turbo-Tapping and Banging mode! What a Git! Mind you, let’s not forget my Whoopsiedangleplop with using the shower early in the day? The difference, I think, is snot-bag superior Herbert enjoys doing it on purpose?

I made a rare mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. As the rain stopped and the sun fought its way through to shine on Inchcock Towers… well, Woodthorpe Court then. Hehehe! I grabbed the Canon camera and took this photograph of the view.

Then the hungers-pangs began, and my desire for some more cheesy baked potatoes overcame me. I got up some steam (I was starting to feel a bit weary) and started to prepare the third on the trot (4th Counting Carers Richards and Valerie’s) Cheesy Baked Potatoes meal!

Cheesy Potato Nosh – Flavour Rating 9.3/10!

Note: Only the four half spuds? No, not self-control; I made eight and kept three to cool and have later on (Cunning?). I would have had four, but I dropped one when putting it from oven to pot – it splattered onto the floor and a slipper, which both needed attention, cleaning sorting out. I may have muttered something along the lines of “Oh, bother?” Then, I feasted on the meal, put the tray on the Ottoman, passed wind and belched… and Flake-Out-Time!

Herbert started clanking and clunking away again, and I woke to his mechanical overture. Hehe! Pig!

Luckily it didn’t last too long this time. And I drifted off again. To be woken by the tune of “♫ Oh, Susana… ♫ chiming out. The evening Carer had arrived. She was in a rush, so no chinwagging was permitted on this occasion. Off she trotted, bless her.

I spotted the meal things on the Ottoman, and I took them to be washed and put away. Noticing the lack of wonderful sun-setting after three days of gorgeous one, I stood and had a perusing of the evening sky. I realised that even with the absence of the usually vivid colours for the last few days anyway, there was still a beauty to be beheld.

Getting daft or soft on my old age, or not?

I went onto the computer to work on the blog and visited Facebook, the TFZ and Winwood Heights sites.

Went on CorelDrawing; Herbert was doing the odd banging about, so it was not until gone midnight before I got my head down; off I went and slept a bit better, only about five shooting awakes.

ODE OF THE DAY

Wants (Peace) & Not Wants (Herbert)

Cataract operation, before it’s too late – appealing!
A friend with time for long chinwagging,
Someone who doesn’t hate or finds me appalling…
But I don’t blame them, and that’s a bit galling!
One tablet to stop my shaking and trembling…
The ability to once more try cartwheeling?
The willpower for me to stop earwigging,
A better than Warfarin pill, stop the haemorrhaging,
But most of all, I’d want, after some deep thinking…
The end of people, domineering,
And those who go around sneering,
Those who cannot care have empathy are non-obliging…
The know-alls who go around rubbishing…
Rushing, superior in outlook, verbally scathing…

Compassionless animals, one lives above me,
Above my little independent living flat, you see…
I nicknamed him Herbert, and he’s not trouble-free…
He makes noise at all hours, sometimes the whole day,
He’ll start again today, I guarantee…
He acts superior, and nonchalantly,
But, the things he’s roisterously making go to charity…
The housing officer says no cause to moan, apparently,
So I won’t, or might lose the flat, alackaday!
So untouchable Herbert will carry on noisily…
He’ll keep waking me at night, arbitrarily,
I must resist responding early morningly…
What can be done redeemingly?
Two wrongs don’t make a right, seemingly…

KEEP SAFE IN THE SNOW
Keep safe all of you, affected by the snowstorms please,
If you can, avoid driving and soirees,
Polish your ottomans and tallboys?
And for even more joys…
Try canned beans and saveloys?
Sew the missing button on your corduroys?
Have warming wine delivered by Pomeroys?
Play great music, possibly by the Beachboys?
But don’t contact the killjoys!

Inchcock Today: Diary with Ode

LAST NIGHT’s CATCH-UP

I decided to get some Cheesy Potatoes done for Carer Richard when he comes tonight.

I soon turned into an uglier imitation but albeit me a smaller one, a younger one, less fodder-wise, shorter, and an older one, of Gordon Ramsay. Hehe!

I even donned my Toque. I thought it would be an unexpected treat for Richard, and all my remaining concentration went into getting it prepared properly. I intended to make it the best I could, and luckily Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was helping by not playing up too much. This is good! I thought, so I pressed on conscientiously and even felt a bit proud of my efforts. Smug-Mode-Assumed. I got the last potatoes in the oven, and they were done in no time. I got them out on the chopping board added all the seasonings you can see in the photo above. Then bashed the living daylight out of potato flesh and mature, strong cheddar, adding Squid sauce (liquid salt), BBQ seasoning, spirit vinegar, Worcester sauce and a dirty great-chunk of butter! It took ages to get it all to mix together, I don’t know how long it took me, but I was all weary-armed by the time I got the shells back in the oven to brown off. Haha!

I was feeling even smugger when they came out almost perfect! Well, as I would have liked them too. I was planning on four for Richard, two for me… I ate mine straight away!

The door chime played its Oh, Susanna tune, and I anticipated Richard coming down the hallway, but whoever was buzzing did not come in. I realised why when I got to the door – “I’d left it locked form when I took my shower!” What a plonk!

Opened the door to see Carer Valerie. I’d made yet another cock-up! I thought Richard said he was coming tonight, but Valerie told Richard is coming in the morning. So, I gave Valerie the cheesy potatoes. I packed them in foil and put them in a bag for her, and she seemed to like the look of them, which made me content cause Valerie is a good gal to me. Wished her farewell, and she took the waste bags to the chute with her, for me.

Before I turned off the computer, I had a look at my Google Calendar for the next few days. And son realised I had not put some things down… although I really was confident that I had done? So, I added them!

Checked on my plates and legs; they were a lot better looking than yesterday. As I was just about to start getting smug again…

I felt the wet warm sensation of gushing blood within the protection pants. I hastened to the wet room to find, with maximum embarrassment, it was not blood but urine! The recent bouts of smugness were abandoned and replaced with a dollop of shame and ignominy! Depression threatening!

I started on the Health Checking in a slightly lower state of joy and contentment. The body temperature seemed fair enough. Got everything cleaned and medicated and changed into the night attire.

The sphygmomanometerisationing showed the Blood Pressure was up a smidge, at Sys 148, Dia okay at 68, and the temperature read 86. Nowt much to worry about; I’ve had a lot higher at times.

I was well tired when I got changed and medicated. The eye drops ought really to be called nose or mouth drops, in my case… Humph! Despite Shaking Shaun kicking off, I must have been tired, for I was off to sleep in a flash.

I was soon woken up by Herbert bashing about. At this time of night, it might not be late for some, but it is me, 22:00hrs gone! The ungregarious, unamiable, unloquacious, haughty, pompous, git! Still, he soon stopped. This may have had something to do with hitting the roof with my walking stick…

Which serves me right, cause I stubbed my toe getting back in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner. Tsk!

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Thursday 3rd February 2022

I woke up (I do that sometimes you know), and a renewed inspiration took place. I intend to get the cheesy potatoes ready for when Richard calls; he will not be done out of his treat. I laid there and pondered on the logistics of my desire with the cheesy spud making:

I only have a few small potatoes left to use
This will mean I cannot refill the skins for him…
I’ll heat the potatoes, then give them a good mix and bash with the cheese (plenty in the fridge) and seasonings.
Put them in an oven dish.
Timing will be critical, though. Richards ETA, 06:30 to 07:30hrs… Mmm!…
Fingers crossed, I’ll make a start then…

The pots were put in the oven cooking, and I did some blogging. Then got the tubers out and sliced them. I’d got the cheese in the basin all ready with the seasonings already in it. I then took the flesh out to mix in the bowl…

Got the cheesy spuds in the tray and back into the oven. They were soon all looking good and browned off pretty well.

I removed the tray, burning my fingertips as I did so. Then tidied up the appearance, and I wrapped it all in tin foil and awaited Richards arrival.4

I dropped the small husks back in the oven and nibbled them a few minutes later. Nice! I’m afraid I’ve got the taste back for cheesy potatoes. I ordered Iceland to get their baking potatoes and some wine for someone or other. Not saying in case they read this. As I was starting the order, today’s Iceland order arrived.

I’d forgotten I’d already ordered some wine, which was delivered today with the other stuff. I can tell you now, it was for Sister Jane and hubby Pete. I’ll ring them later to say to them they can collect them.

I’m not so sure about the Iceland new Fruit & Salad desserts. In fact, I don’t recall ordering them? But, there you go.

Minutes later, Richard arrived. The lad seemed a little tensed up for some reason to me. He didn’t seem exactly jumping with joy at the meal I’d made for him. But kind enough to take it anyway. Methinks Richard is having some bother of some sort. I hope whatever it is turns out right for him. I hobbled him to the door and wished him well as he departed, taking the waste bags with him. Bless him!

Back to the blogging. Got a call from Sister Jane and told her about the wine awaiting her pleasure. Then the Haematology Nurse, Hristina, arrived. She was in a rush again but chatted while she took the blood. Gave her an Easter egg, but I had to almost force her to take it. Hahaha!

Sudden Dizzy Dennis visit, joined shortly with shaking Shaun. Not too good this.

Mind-Wanderings and pointless Mental Memorabilia

A gal once asked me, I think her name was Gloria?
Have you ever experienced utter euphoria?
We then got grips and a bit overfamiliar…
She asked again; I said no, and we ate a veggie burger.

Christine later said, she thought me peculiar,
So I didn’t see her again and chased after Julia…
I liked her, although she was older and ganglier,
But she didn’t take to me, she was always wiser…

Then a gal who was brawnier, my beloved Grizelda!
Encounters of passion, she wore no brassier…
Her body was all firm and desirably muscular,
While it lasted, I did find utter euphoria…
She was visiting the UK, from Mülheim an der Ruhr,
Grizelda went home, leaving me feeling sadder!

Then came Fern, for me, she was classier…
Sex-mad, but grumpy, niggly and crotcherier…
And it has to be said, she was much clumsier,
She’d greet me with not a smile, but leer…
Proving her to a smidge superior…
With pleasurable connections, she couldn’t be freer!

I’m writing this rubbish cause I’m having a Thought Storm,
My wording and writings, not precisely in the artform,
What can you expect from someone so lowborn?
Musical, me? I did try to learn the fluegelhorn…
Also the piano, private lessons from a Capricorn…
One lesson and he said ‘You shouldn’t bother’: with scorn!

My bank balance is getting nearer to being overdrawn…
So, I’ll not be going holidaying to climb the Matterhorn,
Or my dream, of going on a boat around Cornwalls Zawn,
Hello, I just had an attack from Shaking Shaun,
Better stop now, clear up my on the floor sandwich of brawn!

Part of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Hehehe!

Wednesdays Sunset – Bootiful!

Sherwood’s Sunset, daunting, yet so picturesque,
Almost like it was designed by an artist…
With the aid of an abstractionist?
Believe me, viewing it, I heard a clarinettist…
Playing Stranger on the Shore, perfectionist!

The scenes almost spoke to me,
My worries were replaced, temporarily,
I began to think, rather melancholily…
When I snuff it, I’ll miss these sunsets, sadly!

For all my worries and ailments, I feel lucky…
Though I may be writing circumlocutorily…
In bad odeing too, but that comes naturally,
It brings on a desire to be conciliatory!
And admiration seems so obligatory!.

At this moment of photographing…
I don’t want to visit Beijing,
Go skiing or backpacking…
Have sex, or go mountain scaling,
I made a spot of decision-making…
Enjoy nature; I find it so enthralling!.

Hello, the cold rains started drizzling,
The winds are getting up, more nature enabling?
This means other worries are expelling…
The thought of getting back to normality is dismaying!

Back to the day to day stuff means disentangling,
Pleasures of Mother nature at work, disengaging…
Making a brew, having a wee-wee – blood-curdling!
I think it’s time I went for some counselling?

Editor Inchcock, happy as usual!

Inchcock Today: Diary, photos mostly, with the odd ode

I’d like to start with an embarrassment. Last night Caring Carer Julie came to sort me out. Julie, being the kind soul who got my pamphlets sent to HRH & Billum, in America all done for me. It wasn’t until the gal had left that a terrible, sickening thought came to me…

I can’t recall paying her for the packages and postage! Guilt runs through me, now. After all the time and efforts she’s spent helping me out as well. I tested my Vascular Dementia affected memory… I fear the worst and am pretty confident I have not paid my dues to Julie. If she might read this… Please, forgive me, and please remind me on the next call… Please! Sorry! ♥

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

Photographicalisations From Yesterday

Morning Chest Way Car Park

I can’t remember when I took either picture,
It’s light, must have been late morning, I gather…
Off to the Porcelain Throne, I did jaunter…
All went well, no mess or blood to encounter,
Realised I’d left the walking stick in the shower,
The wet room I did reenter…
Went back… the funk I’d made I did encounter!.

I did take a photo of the car park, but as regularly occurs, for some reason: It didn’t make it onto the SD disc? As with the photograph I took of meal yesterday.

See the photo on the left? A fine example of when Inchcock fumbles about trying to put eye drops in.

I’ve found the missing snap of Sunday’s lunch though…or was it Mondays? Erm, yes, Monday’s! I’m nearly positive it was… I’ve taken to the Iceland beef pasties, a few onions and potatoes in it too.

Sunset photos, again of the beautiful blue-purple hue. There is something about this type of sky that makes me remember from about 1665, I’ll try that again, 1965. Hehe! TA manoeuvres on Exmoor. Each night then, the skies looked like these do. Nothing remarkable or exciting happened, but I did adore the view… Oh, no, we were needed (RAMC field unit) once, to dig out a fragment splinter from a Norwegian squaddies belly. Har-har!

I worked diligently on the blogging. Making more mistakes and losing aeons of time in finding out what I’d done wrong and fumbling bumbling about to correct things. I still don’t know how I kept getting into a pickle, or how I got out of them.

Vascular Dementia Doris and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, I imagine. Well, I know it was them. Hehe!

Esther arrived to do the washing

And I got an ear-bashing…
For wearing the wrong slippers, not hearing…
Buying things I don’t need, that she is cleaning,
Talking to me she walks away in a twinkling…
I hear her talking… babble not the words, so enraging!
She demanded a mug of tea, so I got brewing…
Esther rarely stopped still, to do her chinwagging,
She checked the kitchen drawers, foraging…
Her criticisms were ever-burgeoning…
The constant talking was very confusing,
Words muttered from the other room, absquatulating,
I got a few words in… well, I was attempting…
She even spoke through the door, as I was urinating!
Even when at times my mind was raging and racing…
Struggling to understand her, patience shortening…
Yet she’s such a character, I do find her engaging,
Never bored when is aboard, I’m not complaining…
It’s just that she sets my mind trampolining!

Sunsetting shots from the kitchen window

This is the new TV remote, that Esther sorted out for, and told me to order from Amazon. Why do I put this in the blog? I’ve lost the old one again, which I found after getting this one! Sad, innit?

Evening Carer Julie arrived, full details near the top of this page (photo). This is the first picture I took of my American gem, Julie. As you can see, I was a bit shaky at the time. Shaking Shaun! But Julies attention made everything feel so much betterer! ♥

I thought I’d update you are my mission to get three of the green house icons in the YourArea magazine. I’ve never got more than one, in months of doing them daily. Ah, well!

Off in Search in Sweet Morpheus…

After five nights of forever waking up, but fortunately nodding off pretty quickly again… but not for long, the waking has been so often, regular, at times five minutes between them! I’m even thinking of seeing the Doctor about it… What am I saying… see the Doctor… Hahaha! I can’t even remember what she looks like, it’s been that long since I saw… erm… what is her name now? It’ll come to me… or not.

I nodded off quickly tonight. Although the waking ups were there all the time once more, however, there was a lengthier time in between them. I reckon I only stirred about five or six times. Which sounds bad enough, but was far less than the preceding few evenings. I am expecting now I’ve said that something else will take over in annoying me… it usually does!

Good Morning

Up like a lark, 25 press-ups, a bit of shadow boxing, ten minutes on the weights, lifted…

Well, alright then. I woke and needed a wee-wee, as I got up to catch my balance, I ended up on my bum on the floor! This released the urine, burst some of Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and the jammie-bottoms pulled against Little Inchies fungal lesion, and the blood flowed! Not a good start to the day at all! But did it bother me? Yes, it did! Krugnangles! The next two hours or so I spent cursing, spitting, feeling sorry for myself, fed-up, medicationalisationing, cleaning things up, and generally at a low ebb!

I’m just so glad there is no CCTV in the flat. Because my limping to the wet room and medical box, walking as if I’d mucked myself, to hold in the blood and pee, was most embarrassing. I shouldn’t really tell you of these things, but it is a fine example of what may happen to the whippersnappers in later life, and how to contend with it? I’ll tell you how…

After the natural first reaction, as with me this morning; you can always find that something is going to temporarily improve your outlook, and often does.

Tips, Warnings & Advice For Whippersnappers

In my case, after medicating things, I had a shave… with zero nicks or cuts! Which hasn’t happened for months since the stroke. A positive there! Please read these tips, or you’ll kick yourself for absorbing this advice in fifty years or so. Be prepared! Know what you might have to contend with; I wish someone had warned me!

Next, forget all about what has happened, and make a brew of Glengettie tea. (With Vascular Dementia Doris, I have no choice other than to forget things, so, another positive there, see?)
Of course later on something will remind you… Little Inchie may start bleeding again, Arthur Itis may turn nasty with your knees, or Little Inchies fungal lesion, or Harold’s Haemorrhoids, may start to bleed again? (As they did for me) Just bad luck, that is!
After treating whichever ailment is in need of it, the old memory will fade again… it’s got its advantages as long as you look at it in the right way… which you will have forgotten by now.
Leaving the hot water (faucet) tap running, forgetting food is cooking, dropping something when you get Shaking Shaun on the job, toe-stubbing and walking into doorframes due to saccades, glaucoma, cataracts and stupidity, seem to be the most popular with me, currently.
Forgetting appointments and deliveries or if you had made an order at all, will play havok with your supplies situation. Combined with the substitutions from the supplier, you could well end up with four bottles of bleach, twelve (minimum) unliked cans of various substituted food in the cupboard, and no milk or bread… then I’m afraid the substituted can of processed pea and the mangled can of mulligatawny soup will just have to be tackled!

The state of the feet and ankles fair cheered me up a bit. Much better!

It was just bad luck when I stubbed my toe leaving the wet room. Humph!

The veins in the legs seemed to be all calmed down as well. See? Cheery news from the depths of depression! Not all good mind, Arthur Itis’s knees, and Shaking Shaun were both playing up. See that? Another positive there! If you are lucky enough to have so many complaints, illnesses, ailments etc., you will never get bored. Now, will you?

Got a brew of Glengettie made, and took this picture of the morning sky from the kitchenette window.

Yes… alright, I trapped my finger closing the window! It didn’t hurt, no bleeding, no scratches or bruising. Yet another positive! I suppose it depends on which way you look at it? For some reason, despite the painful awakening kerfuffle and pain, I’m feeling in good form. (Which must go some way to explaining Doris Dementia?

On with blogging until Carer Richard arrived. Lovely to have someone who is not in the rush-in-don’t-converse and off again standard. Going to make some cheesy spuds today, I’ll make some extra for the lad to try.

I’ll make a start on them, times getting on…

Pictures; If they come out alright, on the next blog!

Change of plans – someone just called to tell me there is a parcel down in reception for me. I was sure I had not got anything ordered. I thanked the lady and hobbled down to collect my surprise delivery from the lobby.

When I got down, there wasn’t a parcel for me, but were for numbers 82 and 74. Bless the lady, I think she got confused with the numbers. Got back to the flat, and the baked cheesy potatoes were already cooked. Blimey, they will hopefully keep for Richard and not spoil. I can put some in foil for him, then he can either eat them here or take them home. I do hope they keep for a couple of hours. Can’t put them in the fridge until they have cooled properly.

I’ll get this finished and posted off now. I’ll use the late photographs in tomorrows world-famous Inchcock Today blog. I just hope my hoard of fans doesn’t mind. Still, they are both decent sorts.

TTFNski, each.

Inchcocks Local News Snippets in Odes – Issue 4⅜

Nor Human Traffickers!

Local News Snippets in Odes – Issue 4⅜

What do you think has caused this stabbing?
The first thing that comes to mind involves drug taking,
Perhaps it could be protection racketeering?
Lot’s of affluent students in Nottingham educating?
Of course, with kids, there’ll be sex rampaging,
And students getting drunk, meths drinking?
Which is more interesting than wordsmithing!
No doubt greed, jealousy, drugs or loathing!

They say it’s the twelfth fire on this estate…
The third in two months, a dodgy state,
Most on sites involving freight…
Or waste, recycling bases, what does this connotate?
I’ll let you know if I find out owt at a later date…

The gal had been taking drugs into prison, for hubby,
Well, they are not married; they met at a drugs orgy,
Making the prisoner an awful lot of money…
Well, for highs, they both have an affinity…
The Judge showed a lot of affability…
‘Go home and give your children a big kiss?
That sounds a bit naughty and cheeky?
From a Judge? What the hell is this?
I don’t want to sound finicky…
Does he want her to supply him cocaine or a kiss?
Mayhaps on the day the Judge was tipsy?

Just to show you how I’m keeping up with my usual luck in the gambling stakes. Humph!

Well, another Constabulary mystery?
Whatever has occurred? Was it unsightly?
Something vicious, frighteningly?
Eight police vehicles attended… Getaway!
Murder, terrorists or? What unpleasantry?

Bank robbers hiding? A car with no MOT?
Folks signing into their own homes to have a brew of tea?
One more police car, and there’ll be none free!
Trouble at Mill here, I can see!

I read these figures apprehensively…
I sense a Government con here; we’ll see…
Corona Virus, all about money, money…
They’ve upped tax, food prices, and to me…
That’s what they wanted to do, disagreeably!
Help kill off the NHS… do you agree?
There are more folks with the virus around me…
Grenfell, why’s no one been punished, Lordy Me!
Tories get voted in again! They get off scot-free?
Disgusting! Absobloodylutely!

Her killer doesn’t want to be involved in the inquest of his wife, who he murdered? But you would like to know the outcome?

And he’ll be Freed to Kill Again. I guarantee it! Knowing our Parole Board pillocks!

Scumballs!

I think that Lucifer is winning.

What’s the plan, God? Got any?

Pathetic PC sentencing here, methinks?
The legal system, I believe, stinks!
Scared to death of sentencing Muslims?
I can understand that; I come from the slums…
The future scares me…
From terrorism, gangs and every bent MP,
Today’s youngsters will never be free!

At least he only threatened to kill!

That’s the spirit, Judge. Lock ’em up! Seven years equates to about three methinks. With good behaviour?

A Cruel Tax!

I am so delighted to report on this sentence.

A jury of six men and six women took two-and-a-half hours to return a unanimous guilty verdict of manslaughter on Lawson Byrd, who deliberately caused the death of 19-year-old Gianne Obafial.
But they cleared him of the more severe charge of murder. During a two-week trial, Crown Court heard how the defendant, also 19, drove at and then over Mr Obafial in Mercian Way and headed off up Abbey Street.
Giving evidence, Byrd claimed he had no intention of causing the fatal injuries his victim received. Instead, he told a jury he “panicked” after seeing ” a glimmer of metal” in the waistband of Mr Obafial’s trousers and thought it was a knife.

BOLLOCKS! If that had been true, he could have got back in his murder weapon and driven off! Judge Shaun Smith QC said: “Mr Byrd, you have been found guilty and criminally responsible for the death of Mr Obafial, but they have decided you did not intend to kill him or cause him really serious injury. The bullying toss-ball was sentenced to jail for 12 years for manslaughter.

Convicted murderers have got less. I’m tickled pink!

See what I meant above?

Spotted this on Facebook

Interestingly, I spotted the Meridian logo on his uniform. The same company that Nottingham Council uses and tend to my needs. There’s no getting bored with them. In the two months that I’ve been using them, they have failed to turn up six times. Twice coming after midday, which meant it was too late for me to take my medications… in case the evening Carer came. Hehehe!

On two occasions, they came late but early enough to allow me to take the prescriptions. My trouble… one of many, is having Vascular Dementia, and some days, I don’t realise if they are late, and my mind wanders off. Sad, but true! If someone was to contact me and let me know what’s going off, it would help. The other two times, no one came for the morning visit at all. I often wonder if I am being charged for it? However, and notwithstanding…

The Caring Industry is like the Security Guarding was when I worked for them. Under-staffed, underpaid, and so hectic you wouldn’t believe it! So, I can relate to the branch managers and the staffs’ frustrations. People not turning up and informing you ten minutes before their shift starts, and not showing at all! The good Carers are precious but have to cover all the time for a few. Just the same with the Guards. I have some really caring Carers who call on me, so patient and understanding. The industries are so competitive, with so many available, but none can be 100% reliable. What can they do? Charging more, thus paying higher wages, is a no-no for growth. Sacking bad time-keepers would be a pleasure for some managers, I know… but things would be worse then!

So, I have empathy and understanding of these problems. But that does not offer a solution, does it? Shame!

Luckily, I no longer have to struggle with those problems… nowadays I work to walk, do the ablutions, control my dementia, the eyesight failing with glaucoma, cataracts, and saccades all to be treated with a prospective up to 43 weeks to wait for the first

cataract to be done, the wait again for the other eye to be done. Hopefully, they will be using the Phacoemulsification method. I pray they might do both eyes lens replacements at the same time.

Then, glaucoma in both eyes as well needs to be sorted. (Eye drops only, I think?) Then the saccades in the right eye.

I’ll be getting my telegram from the Queen or King by the time I get around to having all these done and get to have an eye test done to get new lenses from the optician!

You can bet the dentist, DVT, or Cardiac appointments will come when I’m having the eyes done. That happened when I had the stroke; I went back to the bottom of the list. Hehehe!

I’ll just press blindly on!

The Nottingham Lads News Snippets in Ode

Inchcock Today: Cheesy Potatoes Made!

The highlight of the day. At long last, after several months, I took a risky chance and made some cheesy baked potatoes! I’d missed these for so long, I risked it. The last two days, the nerve-end failures had much fewer. Glad I did now, and I got away with it! Aware of the dangers that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete may impose on me…

Awakening, after the fifth horrible nights’ sleep, the urge for a mug of Glengettie was irresistible. I hobbled into the kitchenette with Metal Mickey and got the kettle on; the dim view had beauty to it, so I fetched the ‘on-its-last-legs’ Canon camera. Took a shot…

I’m lucky to have such a panoramic view,
Most times, the outcoming photo will do,
Today the Peripheral Neuropathy was on cue,
I got a decent photo, of the sky, with a purple-blue hue,
I was feeling in reasonably good knick, too!

Made the tea, good enough for me,
Later, the ablutions, well I needed a pee,
Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding free…
So I did the ablutioning, shaving carefully…
Amount if cuts none, although tiny nicks, three,
Nasal spray, eye drops, cleaned the lesion… yucky!
Medicated, dressed, it was a bit of a malarkey…
Finished the jobs, sanitarily…
Along came the Iceland delivery!

I soon got them in and into the kitchenette. The potatoes they had delivered actually looked fresh. So, I selected three large ones to use for the cheesy potatoes.

Put the three spuds in the oven…

Got the rest of the food put away…

Again, they had no Leicester Cheese, shame, but they substituted some imitation extra-strong cheddar, so at least I could make the cheesy pots up in a while.

The door chime rang out its ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune. It was Josie to tell me she’d just had a call from her Niece, who is going to take her out for a meal today. Bit of a disappointment…

I’d just added the mushrooms, tomatoes and chestnuts to Josie’s stew on the stove hob as well! Humph! Never mind, I said she could have it tomorrow. She seemed happy enough with that.

The Carer arrived, the same gal as yesterday. So no humour or nattering. She took the waste bag with her, though. A tablet short in the pot she provided. A Beta Blocker or Codeine. I assumed I’d dropped it; she got another one.

I carried on with prepping the fodder. I got on with getting Josie’s chilli ready in between.

Got the pots out of the oven and the cheese, sauces, BBQ seasoning, vinegar, BBQ sea salt, and bin nearby. Ready to scrape out the flesh from the tubers into the basin to bash the hell out of them with the seasonings added…

Which went amazingly well, no shakes, nerve-end didn’t go off, and only one tiny nick on the finger. No dropping of anything at all… oh, yes, I did drop the BBQ seasoning pot; don’t know I forgot that, cause it landed on my left foot and rolled to the end of the kitchen. I took a snap of it below.

I set the timer, took it to the computer, and worked on the ‘Why’ blog. I soon needed the Porcelain Throne, so off I trundled to the wet room. All went well. Washed and out to check on the spuds in the kitchenette oven (That’s where they were, Hahaha!).

The peas were ready, so I got them on the plate with the sliced yellow tomatoes.

Sister Jane rang, and we had a chinwagging session.

Got the spuds out; I must say they looked good to me. Then, as the plate and tray layout progressed, I was impressed with my culinary performance today… Smug-Mode-Adopted!

By gum, it was grand!

Individual content ratings:
Cheesy Baked Potatoes – 9/10
Yellow Tomatoes – 8/10
Garden Peas – 9/10
Beef Pastie – 8/10

I spent many hours on the odeing for the blog. Visited Facebook WordPress Reader and had t nip to the wet room again, for the low point of the day – Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding yet again. I’d not noticed earlier with the excitement of getting a cheesy potatoes meal made without any severe hassle, finding it tasted so good and talking with Jane, that the blood had congealed with the Protection Pants. (A memory, something I had to do or something like that just fluttered into my head, then left?

So I was in the wet room for an awfully long time, cleaning and medicating. And this is the most painful of all of the ailments to medicate. I’d like to shout ‘Argh!’ But I won’t, I did a bit of that at the time. Hahaha! But today was still a better than usual one, and a Sunday too; usually not a lucky day. Although, I reserve the right to change my mind if it starts bleeding again. Hehe!

I was feeling a bit tired now, so I sat down with a water bottle and turned on the TV. Fell asleep for a couple of hours and was woken by the evening Carer coming early (Not that it matters). On to the Computerisationing again.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP: HERBERT

22:20hrs: Sounds like a vacuum, droning noises from above. (Not from Herbert, too distant-sounding) If I can hear it sufficiently to keep me awake, I feel sorry for anyone with decent hearing trying to get off to sleep! I think it got to Herbert above me because he started tapping and banging then. Kept it up on and off until nearly midnight!

If you don’t mind, a few words being spoken to you?
My mind wandered a little then, fretting and with Deja Vous…
Because getting to sleep, I just couldn’t do…
The droning noise’s sound got louder, persistent they grew!

The Thought Storms kicked off, as they tend to…
The eyes, the left knees arthritis, appointments overdue,
Silly thoughts, like should I give my testicles a shampoo?
Sleep was unavailable, so do I have a shower. or catch the flu…
Turn the TV on? Get something to eat? That sounded neat,
Yes, I was going a smidgeon barmy, yes, it must be true…
I nodded off, and after an hour of kip… I woke in a mind-stew!
I waddled to the Porcelain Throne, messy job, Oh, the phoo!

Then Carer Richard arrived, the medications to sort and do…
Brought me two postage packets; I said thanks, bless you!
Issued the medications, and before he said his Depardieu…
We had a little natter, or a few…
I told Richard of last nights noisy hullabaloo…
That ensured me no sleep, and hitherto…
It must have been loud; I heard it too…

In seconds, Richard had worked it through…
Gale force winds had all night long blew…
As it happens, they are still blowing now, too!
I thanked him for settling the mystery issue…
Slipped him some treats, as he said his adieu!

Richard to the rescue again!

Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Inchcocks Odes to Why? Part Two

♫ Why does my heart go on beating? ♫

♫ Why does the sun go on shining,
Why does the sea rush to shore,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world,
‘Cause, she doesn’t love me anymore, Yes…
Why do the birds go on singing,
Why do the stars glow above,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?
It ended when I lost your love…
I wake up in the mornin’, and I ponder,
Why sod all is the same as it was…
I can’t understand; no, I can’t understand
How life goes as crappy as it does…
Why does my mechanical heart go on beating?
Why are these eyes of mine fading,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world,
It ended when you said, “Sod-off, goodbye!”
I often wonder, apart from Little Inchie, why? ♫

Why Am I So Soft & Gullible?

Even as a young man, I was presentable…
But, I’ve always been jealous and resentful,
Gals thought I was a standby rather than a desirable…
But my wallet was in demand… and easily emptiable!
My heartstrings were unendingly detachable!
Why these failures? It is seemingly not diagnoseable.

My hopes and dreams were terribly squashable,
I’ve always been a soft touch and deceivable…
Looking back, I find it hardly believable…
I’ve gone from cute and cuddlable,
To a failure, always, who’s always defeatable!

Thus, it must have been in my past life…
I must have lived a terrible life…
Not like this one full of strife…
Bet I was cruel, took many a wife…
I should come back a newt or other pondlife!

Why Are Liars, Usually Politicians?

Well, that’s obvious! To keep themselves out of trouble!
To save them from bursting their own financial bubble?
They overclaim all expenses by at least a tankful…
They welcome Covid cause there’s no time to be able…
For anyone to inspect their expenses table!

Why Have Aliens Not Landed Yet?

Oh, bejabbers, they may well have already; it’s verifiable!
They beam down airily…
So no spaceships to see,
So their landings are not watchable…
They interbred with the powerful, starting with Blair…
This may sound to you ununderstandable…
Their original plan was to make us all vilifiable!

Intending to use mind control, somnambulistically!
Naturally, they all mind-melt and speak multilingually,
They soon spotted how humans communicate clumsily…
Using missiles, tanks, napalm, and mercenary armies…
Killing ourselves off with starving… very silly!
We are killing ourselves off, although it will be bloody!

We tell our people not to smoke or use a narghilly…
Not to eat fatty or sweet food, willy-nilly…
We do have variability but very little tranquillity…
We intercommunicate bolshy, cruelly, not friendly?
We lie, mislead, cheat, mostly circumlocutorily,
Many aliens planet folks have visited Earth, spookily,
It’d be a lot more, counting the imaginary!

Why Are More People Going Potty?
Answer: Alto-Egos, Id’s and Chakras

Alto-Ego-Inchy: No doubt about the answer to this question…
But it’s a long one, which calls for honesty and a confession…
I’ve studied this query for years; it became an obsession,
Since the Roman invasion to England’s 1867–1869 recession
I was in the body of a chap called Adrian…
Wall builder, I think, a stonemason…

The effect of Alto-Egos, Id’s and Chakras, combined,
Control our allotted specimen, usually a human,
Occasionally a half and half, unknown, with a warped mind,
But we can handle and master humans, aliens of any kind.
I am the truth, reality… I rarely speak what’s on my mind…

We Alto Egos go on for years, the insane is our possession,
When the human snuff it, we move on to Sherlock Holmesian…
To torment another losing it, sad foccinaucinihilipilification,
Alto-Egos, Id’s, and Chakras rule we’re not Antichristian,
We are not Czechian, Australian, Midlothian or Arizonian!

We roam the Universe to torment the deserving,
Deserving meaning one demented, their mind flailing,
Fair enough, we do some deducing, defacing and coercing…
But only of the brain, physical problems are not out kind…
Like with Inchcock, no wonder he’s going out of his mind!
I’m actually getting to feel sorry for him, I find…
But don’t tell anyone, it’s a bit embarrassing…

We Three unknown, misunderstood missionaries, are King…
Humans will never understand us unless they are tripping,
Our tasks, as laid out for us, to stop anyone helping…
Give pain, frustration, depression with maintaining…
If noise bothers Inchcock, we make sure it is piercing!
If he leaves the tap running… this is called interfacing…
We keep him busy with something else; I can’t help laughing!
Then the hot water will be cold, so no showering…
Little things like this make out job so satisfying!

I fang You!

Part of the Inchies: Make Them Laugh, In Ode Series.

Inchcock Today – Saturday 29th January 2022

Saturday 29th January 2022

After another ‘orrible night of ever waking up, and Thought-Storm attacks, with a few nocturnal hobbles to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for painful, partly uncontrollable urinating; And having to clean and freshen up from the effects of the PMD (Pre-Micturition Dribbles), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling and splashes), all of varying nature.

One is like a torrent, belting out with no control over it and suffering from the splashback. The next, so painful and barely a trickle that somehow still managed to spray over my pyknic, wobbly, midriff more than found its way into the NWWB! Then I had to clean up, freshen up, and back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

I seemed to nod off again quickly enough each time, but sleep never lasted more than a few minutes – then it was shooting awake again, and back to the mess-making, to be cleaned up again, wee-weeing.

Around 04:10hrs, I gave up trying to prompt Sweet Morpheus. And decided to get the kettle on, take some photo’s of the dim view of the sky and end car park. I got the kettle on and required yet another wee-wee?

I took a photo with the Canon camera. It’s getting old and wrong now, just like me. (Hehe!) The spring on the SD card has gone, and Canon sometimes doesn’t recognise the card in the camera!

The shot I took of the end car park was far too dark to see much at all. So, I had to go on CorelDraw and adjust shadow, brightness, contrast and intensity to turn it into how it looks here on the right. Smug-Mode-Engaged!

This is the first time a car has not been parked on the yellow no parking zone! Well, while I’ve been taking the photos anyway.

It looks a little eerie if that’s the word I’m looking for. Nightmarish enough to be used as a ghost-themed book cover?

I couldn’t do enough work on the second shot of the view from the kitchen window. Sulk-Mode-Engaged

I made a belated brew of Glengettie, and I remembered that the Health Checks were supposed to be done again. So, I took a Cocodomal and Poo-Hardener, (Gooey last night, and messy! And tended to the Health Checks. I have the maximum SYS, Dia and Pulse figure safely put away; if they exceed them, I’ve got to call the paramedics. I put them safely away seems to have been lost to Vascular Dementia, Doris. Tsk! I started of with the checking. Took the BP and got these results, which I am confident, are well below the danger zones the nurse gave me.

All three readings were nuanced! It’s been a while since I was told I could stop doing the regular sphygmomanometerisationing. Since I started again, I’ve missed doing a few of them.

Then the temperature was taken. 34.9° c; I felt this was fine, but I checked on Dr Google anyway: “Mild +hypothermia (32–35 °C body temperature) is usually easy to treat. However, the risk of death increases as the core body temperature drops below 32 °c. Nae, bother methinks.

I made another brew and destroyed a banana. Made an Iceland order, then I took a stand-up shower at the sink.

A little early to use the noisy shower yet.

And it went jolly well… no, amazingly well! Fantastic, in fact! Here are a few things that pleased me greatly: Little Inchies fungal lesion had hardly bled at all! Shaving, one, I say ONE tiny nick only! Only two dropsies in the whole session! I had to use the Porcelain Throne while doing the ablutions… and it was smooth, bloodless, and not in the slightest bit messy or gooey! Double Smug-Mode Utilised! Only one walking into anything, the door as I left the wet room.

I had just one naughty that bothered me. A bad one; due to my hitting my ankle on the metal tray as I pulled my foot away. I stubbed my toe on the bucket that just had been cleaned and disinfected.

The state of the veins in the ankles and feet was not a pretty sight, but overall… Yippy!

I had a closer look at the vasculitis and venous thromboembolism veins on show. I think these are what the cancelled appointment at the QMC Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) was about? However, at 3.5 last time, the Warfarin level was spot on!

The Carer arrived after I’d dressed and gone on the computer. The Carer was in a rush, missed checking my swallowing the tablets, and forgot to take the waste bag to the chute for me (again). But she was obviously in a hurry, bless her. Not an easy job for the gals to do, with different people having differing, altering needs.

I now find myself in a position to give you an updated taste report on the £3 mini box of the Marks & Spencers Marmite Dinky Cheese Pinwheels I got from Ocado. Tasteless, Crap! Having eaten some of them.

Made a start on this blog creating. During which, the wee-weeing has grown less frequent – Phew!

I came across last nights sunset photographs. Both from the kitchenette window. I’m not sure why I took two that were of the same area, basically? I should imagine that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete would be to blame, and the finger must have stuck unfeelingly to the button?

I went on the WordPress Reader to see what folk have posted. Then answered some WordPress comments. Then did some TFZer Facebooking until…

Time to get the fodder sorted out – Oh yea!

Got the Cornish Pastie into the fridge; set the times. Potatoes were already in the slow cooker, and peas were on a low light in the saucepan.

A sort of fumble-thud took place in the obese stomach area, making the flab wobble! A little belching and a few stabbing pains. On my way to the wet room, the rumbling began again. I tore off the trews and PP’s and unceremoniously plonked me botty on the Throne… the action started immediately!

All seemingly over and done, I had the sensation that it wasn’t yet. So, I had a go at the easy crossword puzzle book. And very nearly got four clues answered but made do with three. (Hehehe!)

After ten minutes or so, the backup evacuation came. I was so glad I stayed in situ for its possible arrival.

Then, having washed and cleaned things, I realised I could smell something like burning… I dropped the nail brush…

Panic, flap, heartbeat racing, I rushed out to get to the kitchenette to see what I’d done. Casually shoulder-charging the door frame again on my way – now having to contend with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, I lunged my way into the kitchen, nose twitching and looking for signs of smoke from the oven… I did feel a dirty great Grade A, class one fool! It was the peas that had been burnt, as for the Cornish Pastie in the oven… I’d not even turned the thing on! So, Vascular Dementia Doris had got me bleeding, bruised, bashed about and going barmy. Left me with a right load of cleaning and sorting out; Trowing away the burnt peas, scrubbing the saucepan, getting some more on the boil, wet room to clean, PPs needed changing. I got the oven on again and reset the timer.

Then, as I was getting the tray and things out, I had another thud in the stomach – no, not the bowels or bladder this time – a sudden fear that I’d left the tap running in the wet room! I grabbed Metal Mickey and went with all haste to check. I believe I might have said something like, “You stupid fart of an old ♠ 6† f=ing idi⅛¬” Something along those lines! I could have cried with joy when I first found everything okay in the room… then I was coming out, I stubbed my toe against the stand-up drier radiator!

If There Is A Lord…

I’d like to ask him/her some questions; this’ll be awkward…
If there is a God, un he finds I don’t believe, I could be buggered?
Here goes: Why did you make me earthbound…
With the minuscule willie wot I found?
Girl or Boy problem? I’ll be bound!

My young life was cruel, but I was only semi-hard…
Mam and Dad fighting, she left… I ate bread and lard!
Or on the weekend sometimes an Oxo cube or a pilchard,
Fast forward, why take Suzie from me? It made me hard!
Memories, whatever you do, I’ll not discard!

My hair fell out at 20; others at 80 have plenty, tit!
I tried to be a good man, my hearing went, have you heard?
Then you stopped my heart, a mechanical one replaced it…
Ulcer, being shot, hernias, life was haphazard…
Even my already mini-willy further withered!

I pressed on, expecting things to improve, with disregard…
Got shot again, and you sent me Stroke… Flashforward…
Made me redundant at 62; you are a wizard!
I survived that; Vascular Dementia to me, you catapulted!
Rotten teeth, poverty causes that and being demented…
The hearing gets worse, things are going downward…
Now both eyes Cataract, Saccades and they’re Glaucoma’d…

The money is getting low,
But of course, you’ll know…
I’ll have to rob an apple orchard,
Keeping tabs on your scoreboard?
Now, black depressions on me, you bestow!
The ailments make me fat when I should be like a scarecrow!

Oh, and why, with all the other crap, did you give me hammertoe?
I really have tried to be a decent fellow…
But bad luck seems to constantly flow…
To the little-willied idiot that you know…
The one with ever-increasing ailments, now it’s lumbago!
And, from the fungal lesion, blood continues to flow,
You even teased me last year with impetigo!

The funeral’s all paid for when I have to go…
Sorry I cannot muster any faith or belief, though…
I don’t believe in Christmas or Mistletoe…
I’ll be leaving behind a few friends, but many more foe,
Slowly I’m getting ready, feeling more mellow…
I’d love to leave behind me an afterglow…
Reincarnation? Oh, no, no, no!
Is it yet time for me to go?
Please let me know…

………………………………………………

Finally got the meal sorted out, served up and feasted upon with great relish and satisfaction.

It took me no time at all to entirely consume this nosh.

The black tomatoes were as perfect as one can get, most beautiful tasting! Sob! Shame it’s the last of them.

Only the Cornish Pastie was below par, but not by a lot. The plate and tray were scrapped of crumbs as well, into my mouth! Hehe! A Flavour Rating of 8.4/10.

As I was doing the washing up, I took three snaps of the dying sunset in the darkness.

The first one was taken straight ahead from the kitchenette window.

The next one was taken to the left. Amazing sky colouring again, I thought.

As I was getting ready to take a shot of the car park on Chestnut Way…

I knocked over the kitchen towel holder, which took the clock, a tub of Citric Acid and my mirror with it, on the way down to the floor! Thundergrongles!

They made a clattering noise as they met with the floor. Which I didn’t mind, cause Herbert in the flat above has been banging away all day, on and off. I hope he heard it, but I felt bad for the folks below my flat. Fantastically, no breakages from the mirror; the acid did not break open either! Wondered if my prayer in ode above had worked? Hehehe!

I got the car park photo taken. Then I got the cleaning up sorted out from the Accifauxpa.

Carer Valerie arrived, which was nice and cheered me up. A Carer who cares is a Carer you want to manage for you. There are a few. Well, many, but one bad apple can upset the apple cart and start the depressions. Hahaha!

The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing

Inchcocks Local News Snippets in Odes

Welcome to the Local Nottingham News Snippets Selection. Chosen this week, with many crime reports omitted; Cause I thought you’d be getting fed up with reading them. Ahem!

———————————————————————————————–

A 19-year-old lad, the police suspect of violence,
Part of a gang of yobs, who fractured a lads skull,
Arrested and out on bail as a subsequence…
I hope he’s learnt his lesson… what a load of bull!

Cases down by 7.5%, this should make us hopeful,
Nae… almost glad, nearly joyful…
Then I see this snippet below…
Mmm, what do we know?.

And then…

Jonathan, the criminal, impervious to the right thing to do,
Yet people fall in love with him… desiring him it’s true!
The women want to meet him, and pas de deux…
And some fellas fancy him too…
Well, I’m jealous, and I admit to you…
When sentenced, I hope they deport him to Timbuktu!

So, the robbed family, and all others too…
To keep safe, here’s what you must do…
Be Vigilant, get burglar alarms and CCTV,
Get monitored ones, although it’ll be a high fee,
Ten cameras should do, to keep a good view…
Mayhaps a double-barreled shotgun, or a few?
Should it be sufficient to make the burglars Depardieu?

May they be spotted by a policeman on his beat?
What am I saying, a PC on his beat… they are obsolete!
Get a suitable spray to get them with… spirochaete?
Bribe then not to rob you; ecstasy might be alreet?
Buy a taser, but please do be discreet…
Just for the taxman, ask them for a receipt!

Killer Matthew Farmer, who smiled and winked to police after stabbing his ex-partner 21 times, has been given a life sentence for this murder in his absence. There is a minimum term to serve 29 years before an application can be made for parole.

So, murderer Matthew Farmer turns into an Angel wannabee?
I see the ploy of his solicitor, whoever he may be…
He wants to prove remorse to people on the jury?
No, too late for that; it must be the Parole Board, you see…
To impress the virtual killers by setting them free early!
So when he applies, it may go in his favour… Lordy Me!

Shame he couldn’t kill himself as he did his partner so easily…
If the turd wanted some help, he should have asked me!
So three decades, no tax to pay, better off economically?
Do prisoners have poll tax or rent to pay? Surely…

It would only be right and fair that murderers should do?
Let them earn it, give them hardships; it’s overdue!
If one wants to die, he has the right; indeed, that’s true?
Ban luxuries, give them a book written in Hebrew,

Let them keep their smuggled in or prison-grown weed…
And then, in suicide next time, they can succeed!
I’m not calling for hanging or the use of a thumbscrew!
I just pray that murdering discontinues.

Well sorted, Sir!

I fear this blight is World Wide, seemingly…
The so-called artists, ignorant, are sickeningly…
Uncaring of the damage and ugliness they bring,
They all have a humanity and compassion deficiency,
There is no solution; the law is fiddledeedee!

When my carer read this out to me,
Although it’s happening is sad, you see…
I just couldn’t help bursting out with a “Hehehe!”

YourArea Scratch Card

Three tries this week to find three green houses.
Not doing very well, am I?

The Nottinghamshire Police are gathering injury after injury,
They get little support from judges or the jury…
Parole Board pillocks freeing prisoners early…
No wonder the officers are so grumpy and surly…
Arrestees think the courts are like a matinee!

Another murder in Nottingham then…
Saying nowt about this one, I’m not in the ken,
Little to report other than violence again…
It may get better… but when?

Horrendous!

The very cheek and impertinence,
No insurance, no tax, and no licence,
No MOTs either; he didn’t want the inconvenience,
He was bailed under his own cognisance!.

There is no detail of what offences are marked on, nor the time or date. Be interesting to see one v the present day?

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets in Ode