Willmott-Dixon Humorous Graphics
Hope the lads like ’em and have a laugh!
Hope the lads like ’em and have a laugh!
No claims to sanity, logicality or social skills are claimed here!
מאנטאג יוני 12, 2 Yiddish
0415hrs: I woke up in a confused state, a cracking headache. Rubbish, crumbs, wrappers, pen & pad, mobile phone, remote controls, the empty biscuit box, a woolly hat, TV magazine, the Clarkson On Cars book and last night untaken evening medication pot around the floor (Humph!), the £300 second-hand recliner and me! Felt confused, tired and listless. The eyelids felt so heavy as well.
The notepad I keep handy to forget to take notes of any dreams on had some scribble on it, but it might have been hieroglyphics because I could decipher nothing of it. Tsk!
Pondered on what the day boded. Must remember the INR blood test at 1007hrs (What an odd time to give me?). I’d like to get a good walk into town done, take some photographs perhaps.
Off to the Porcelain Throne, only the slightest amount of bleeding from Haemorrhoid Harold, feeling light-headed? Dizzy Dennis and Roger Reflux both started off at the same time. At least Anne Gyna and Arthur Itis were being gentle with me.
Made a brew and it tasted horrible – now I know something is wrong with me. Haha!
Did the Health Checks. Then printed off last weeks to take to the nurse later.
Took the morning medications and back in the wetroom for a wee-wee again.
Computer started and finished off and posted the Sunday diary and started this one off.
Put the nibbles in the bag for the nurses and the Anticoagulation Record Card too.
Checked the Emails and did some WordPressing for a few hours.
Got the ablutions done. An extra long session this morning. Cleaning the teggies and caused a bit of bleeding, but pleased with how quickly it stopped considering.
Got three bin bags filled and tied, one of recyclable stuff and took them to the refuse chute. Put four jars and one bottle in the bag to drop off at the recycling bin on Chestnut Walk.
Back to the flat and checked I had everything needed in the bag. Corroborated that the lights, heaters, cooker, taps and windows were okay and that I had the bus-pass, camera and mobile phone. Set off to the surgery.
Not a soul in sight on the way down to and in the foyer. Some workmen were hard at it outside as I walked straight passed the recycling bins (Tsk!) to the end of Chestnut Walk.
Spotted these beautiful bush flowers on the side of the road. This, cheered me up a lot, with the getting out for a hobble as well.
Down Winchester Street Hill in the sunshine and got the camera out of the bag and into my pocket so I could take photographs of the abandoned retail units from Winchester Street to the library.
Not a long distance as you can see from the map here!
So sad, all those folks gone bankrupt, broke or forced to sell-up.
Here are the actual photographicalisations that I took of the rather sad looking so-called retail shopping area of Sherwood, over a five-minute hobble along Mansfield Road.
Oh, dear, I’ve made a Whoopsiedangleplop here, sorry. The bottom left one I took from the bus on the way back from Arnold. Fancy me, making a mistake… Ahem!
Pressed on up the hill and down to the surgery in Carrington. Arriving with 30 minutes to spare the lady told me as I logged in with the receptionist. Sat down, about to get the crossword book out and got called in to see the nurse! No messing about this morning!
She got the blood taken straight away and reminded me about the DVT appointment I had for two hours later. Kind of her, that was. Chinwagged while she did me. Gave her some nibbles, thanked her and departed and limped down to the chemists to ask for advice on my medications, feeling rather proud of remembering to do this. He was not in. Humph!
So, out, down the road and waited for City Hospital bus. I said earlier, no messing about today, didn’t I? Well, it proved this point again when I arrived at the DVT department. As I was there an hour earlier than the appointment time, and they had me in the treatment room within five minutes of my signing in!
Not the foggiest idea what they did. As the Nurse who spoke to me, had an accent and quiet voice and I could not read her lips. Two people came into the cubicle, one smiled and stuck a needle in my throat and arm. That was it I was gone in seconds into a semi-sleepy state. No hassle no pain, just felt them bringing me round later and putting me on a trolly for a few minute and giving me a cup of tea. All done! The chest and throat area was only a bit sore, and that cleared up with ten minutes.
The doctor arrived and told me the test looked visually alright to him, things were no different or worse than last time, and they would contact me after the analysis was complete. I felt great and asked a nurse if I could go now. “If you’re sure you feel up to it, why not Mr Chambers” In a lovely rich Irish accent. So off I wented! Hehe!
Out and up the hill, across the road to the bus stop, the bus arrived in seconds, and within half-an-hour, I was catching a 58 bus in town and on my way to Arnold.
I’ve said it before, but; ‘No Messing About Today!’
Dropped off near the Asda store and popped in get some Irish Batch bread, and came out with the aforesaid loaf… plus: New potatoes, fresh pod peas, mini pickle pork pies, flatbread, Walkers Marmite crisps (three packs of six little packets for £3 – Tsk!), Raffle prizes for the tenants hour, lemon and orange yoghourts, Irish potato farls, butter and £17 quid lighter! Plonker! Then hobbled, (the feet were bad now) in to visit the clothing department to see if they had any of the loose fitting undies in stock. Could not find any and asked an assistant, who informed me they no longer sell them. Marvellous, I thought!
On my way out, I noticed they had ladies bras on sale for two whole aisles!
Even a choice of over fifty different types of, what they labelled ‘T-Shirt Bras” with about 100 of them on the shelves!
Not fair that!
Sexism it is! Hehehe!
Had a hobble over the road to the Fulton Food Store to see if they had any of those lemon curd cones in again. But no. I did get some citrus lollies, though.
Paid the Oberfruppenfurher on the till and out and made my way to the bus stop on High Street behind the no long longer stocking men’s undies – but selling hundred of ladies bras and panties – Asda (Walmart) Hyperstore. Hahaha!
At the bus stop, I spotted this amazing little wildflower forcing its way through the tarmac somehow into life? How do they do this?
Got the bus back eventually, taking the photo mentioned earlier en route.
As we went through Sherwood on Mansfield Road, I took a picture of possibly the best smelling of all the shops.
Back at the flats and had a wee-wee. Put the kettle on and took the midday medications and did the Health Checks.
All right methinks.
Put the purchases on the counter and then stored them away.
After pondering on what to have for fodder later, it will have to be a late one, because I had to sort out the pictures from the camera and update this diary first.
I decided on the last two small portions minced lamb stew with some of the Irish batch bread! Podded a few peas and got them on the boil, well, simmering.
Tried to catch up with the Facebooking while the lamb hotpot cooked. Didn’t get much done, Huh!
The din-din time now.
Washed the pots.
Feeling a bit drained now, so settled down to watch some Law & Order on the Gogglebox, feet up.
Really into the TV and the landline chirped into life.
Stubbed my toe getting out of the £300 second-hand recliner as quickly as I could to get to the phone.
It was the DVT Centre from the 4th floor at the QMC.
It appears that my Warfarin INR blood level is now below 1.4 – What? So that is Monday 6.1 Wednesday 4.2 Friday 4.1 and now Monday 1.4?
I have to go into the QMC Hospital in the morning for Two Enoxaparin injections and another blood test, and have to arrange for another DVT Test as today’s earlier checks would be unreliable due the INR level being so high. (Apparently, the district nurse visits to homes to give injections has been cut back as part of the cost saving exercises).
I have to take 4 Warfarin tonight. So, at least there is far less chance of me bleeding to death, but a real possibility of a blood clot or Heart Attack. I can’t win can I? Hehe!
So I took the evening medications making sure I had the four tablets. Did the Health Checks.
Got the Computer on to update this and put things into the calendar. Printed a reminder and left it on the TV screen for the morning.
Got my head down again, and watched some TV proggies, without any nodding off for ages?
No dizzies tonight.
Up to visit the Porcelain Throne, all good. Even Haemorrhoid Harold wasn’t bleeding at all, in the slightest, whatsoever.
The first time for weeks!
Long time getting off again.
Mongolian: 24 Хоёрдугаар сарын 2017
After the maintenance men came and woke me up last night at 1125hrs, they were gone by midnight after telling me they could do nothing, but they would send someone around in the morning to look at the leaking kitchen window and screw if closed. How I clean the outside after that I don’t know. They are very good at this, getting out of doing anything and sounding knowledgeable at the same time, you know. So I stayed up on the computer all night.
So I stayed up on the computer all night. I tried to use the WordPress G-Suite but ended up having to contact their helpline again, and after a few hours was no closer to a solution than I was before. Tsk!
I tried around 0340hrs to clean up the mess still left from the floods and realised about 0430hrs what a Plonka, I am… They will only make another mess when they come won’t they? I felt a little like a Punchinello, physically and mentally.
Made a note to remind me to call BJ to tell him about my nor being able to attend the Tenant’s Social Hour again and why. Must ask him if he can call on me, so I can give him the nibbles to hand out, and show him the message about a trip out from the Papplewick Pumping Station.
Then, around 0555hrs, I got on with finishing yesterday’s post and then started this one off. Had to limp to the porcelain and was well pleased that the bleeding from Little inchy had stopped – but Haemorrhoid Harry had started. Cleaned my lower regions and the bowl up medicated the rear end and proceeded to feel a little sorry for myself again.
I loathe myself for self-pitying, but even I find it hard to take so many Whoopsiedangleplops so often and continuously as of the last few days. I pondered on what had occurred over the last two day: Crippled myself going to and getting onto and off of the Nottingham Wheel, cut my finger, burnt my hand, flooded the wetroom, lost my notepad, got the day wrong for the cleaners and the clinic on the same day, Little Inchy bleeds started again after weeks of no bother, new pains in the hip, rain coming in through the kitchen window and flooding that, had to turn off the heater cause it got in that too. the batteries ran out on the same day to toothbrush and radio, got overcharged at the shop, got on the wrong bus, sleep has become an impossibility, broke the thermometer, the repairmen arrived at nearly midnight to wake me up to look at the leaking kitchen window that they could do nothing with but arranged for others to call today to ‘screw it in place’? Got demand for a second TV licence, got told off eight times by Olive, No one told me the Tenant’s Meeting had changed from Thur to Fri – and now I can’t get to that! (Well I might if they come really early?) Hobbled painfully up into Mapperley to get some vegetables and lost a tenner somehow… there’s probably more, but these just came to mind yer know.
Took my medications, made a cuppa and just had to sigh and smile to myself when I dropped the milk as I had a dizzy spell, bent to pick up the handily placed mop from the bucket I’m left ready for the rain to come in again and the mop broke in half!!! These Whoopsiedangleplops are getting beyond a joke now, surely they must ease off soon?
Oh, and a letter from the Bank arrived yesterday, it is in the process of being sold off, so I have to consider moving the cash to another one to be on the safe side, Olive advises me. Another job to get done… Will it never end! I beseech the Lord to save my sanity before I become unhinged, and to please save my rationale… oh that sounded good didn’t it? Cheered missen up a bit now. Hehehe!
Another cup of strong tea and then did the health checks. The pulse has gone back down nicely.
Carried out the ablutions, made anther cuppa and rang BJ, no answer, though.
Worked on a new Excel sheet for the Health Checks for an hour or two, hard work when you’re not sure what you’re doing. Haha! Got it done in a fashion.
I rang BJ again, still no answer.
Tried to do some work on a poem, but the concentration wasn’t there.
Once more I rang BJ, he was at the Social meeting. I explained the situation and asked him to inform the others.
Got the vegetables in the slow cooker.
Felt a bit frustrated still, I can’t go out to take the rubbish bins out, go to the shop, visit Olive or anything because the maintenance men who said they would arrive between 0800 > 1200hrs and who came at midnight on their last visit to tend to the kitchen window may arrive at any time? (They didn’t though)
Got the meal going, battered sausages, veg, an apple and a potato. Took a photograph of it, but once again the unfathomable Photo Genie Gremlin removed it from the SD card??? Humph!
Cleaning up after the meal, the Whoopsiedangleplops returned – I’d left the saucepan on the heat while eating and the pan was burnt beyond salvation, I tried to clean it along with the other accoutrements and managed with great ease to cut my Arthur Itis ridden finger end while cleaning the apple divider. But it was a poor effort, hardly bled at all: Perhaps the Whoopsies are easing up in severity? I do hope so.
Companionless and feeling uncherished (although understandably so, hehe!) I WordPressed and did some graphicalisationing for hours, waiting, hoping the maintenance men would not arrive late at night. I needn’t have worried, they didn’t come at all.
TV on, dare not use the headphones in case I didn’t hear the door chime if anyone arrived, so had to watch programmes that had subtitles… not that it mattered, I’d been up for over 20 hours by then, and needed sleep and fell off into the land of nod quickly.
Forgive this little ditty; I know it’s not got class or erudition,
I know it’s a bit of an uneducated disquisition,
So this is the position of my exposition.
The fight to extract my mass from the chair each morning,
The £300 second-hand recliner, it dangerous take-warning,
It’s a bit of a gamble, will be dead or functioning,
Will I get out in time for my ablutionising?
Usually not, so follows medicationalising and sanitising!
Take the tablets, do the medical checks too,
Important this, when one’s decrepit and seventy-two,
BP, temperature, pulse, just a few you have to do,
Creams, lotions, pain gel and new aches for you,
Hospital, doctors, clinic and chiropodist appointment due?
Check what day it is, or you won’t have a clue!
There’ll be plenty of things for you to misconstrue,
Things to forget, not remember, it makes you feel blue,
Getting things wrong is easy like you’re on Autocue,
Leave the tap running, heater or lights, there’s more than a few!
From decision making, you will find you eschew,
The red Gas Bill demand will be overdue,
What day and time is your next health assessment interview?
Singing to yourself, ‘Jealousy’ and ‘A Boy named Sue’,
Knowing the words surprises you,
But you won’t remember, what’s needed next to do,
The name of your neighbour or grandnephew,
The number bus you need or when it is due,
Or, where you put the letter from the Inland Revenue.
Try to find your hearing aids, pen or glasses, but you cannot,
Get people’s names wrong and feel a right clot,
Forgetting where you were going, you’ll do that a lot,
Or getting there, no idea why and lose the plot,
Dropping things all the time like the teapot,
Bottles, coins, medicines and anything hot,
Arriving at the surgery, and wondering for what?
Repeatedly telling folks the same thing like a parrot,
Most of what you utter will be complete tommyrot.
Falling asleep anywhere or time without any fuss,
Often in a waiting room or on the bus,
Waking up at the depot, feeling ridiculous,
You’ll find your hands and fingers less dexterous,
Delicate parts of your body become fugacious,
Redundant, saggy and then none exitatious,
You’ll lose the urge to be flirtatious,
But gain the urge, to be grumpy and vexatious!
He awoke and couldn’t find his alarm wristlet anywhere,
So he searched with frantic vigilance everywhere,
With a sense of gloom and looming despair,
He started with his living room, with his recliner chair,
Then under his 1959 imitation broken E-plan leather armchair,
Searched in and under both of them, but the alarm wasn’t there!
Perused his DVD case and corner photo display then,
He discovered he’d got two copies of Frost series ten,
Panicking now, will the use of his memory be ever verboten?
Where had he left it though he’d just forgotten!
Then he hunted through his fire surround,
Behind his photo, truncheon and all around,
Finding an unknown metal nut on the ground?
Questioning now, if his mind was sound!
To his bookcase then, in forlorn hope,
Searching he dropped his spyglass and it broke,
A few words of profanity he then spoke,
Bent down to retrieve it, the silly bloke,
Hit his head and nearly gave himself a stroke!
He checked out his writing bureau,
Couldn’t find it in there either, though,
He thought then: Life can be a right So and so!
Then into his bathroom, he continued his hunt,
Looked between his Carbolic soap, aftershave and Sterodent,
In the nooks and crannies, Oh where did it went?
Turned his attention, to the drawers, feeling occludent.
Emptied them all out, he was losing his willpower and drive,
But, decided to press on, his enthusiasm began to revive,
When he cut his finger on the razor, again his spirit took a dive,
Put a plaster on, it was getting later, a quarter-past five,
He moved on, to peruse his hallway, he did strive.
Through all his coat pockets he furiously went,
No alarm, and not even a spare cent,
Checked every compartment, even in his caps,
If he didn’t find it soon, he thought he might have relapse,
Even checked under his many woolly scarf wraps,
Could it have possibly fallen into his shoes perhaps?
He even looked under the Velcro straps!
Why does he always have these mishaps?
He emptied all his bins, looked through the gift-wraps.
He emptied the airing cupboard in desperation then,
He did stop for a while, hit his hand as the door did open,
A little time applying some antiseptic he did spend!
He kept searching on and off throughout the night, aghast,
No time for entertainment, cups of tea or breakfast,
At his failure, his disappointment he did broadcast,
The next day, he started searching again early and fast,
He wondered how long this searching would last?
Out to the corridor, didn’t take long, it was little not vast,
Then failing once more, he returned to his flat, well downcast!
To the kitchen his next area to search, off he set,
Danger in this room would be a serious threat,
Electricity, glass, brushes, doors etc, oh, and the steak knife set,
He searched the fridge freezer, the built-in cupboards he upset,
He took ages to get the things back and reset,
But he wasn’t going to give in yet!
Mind you, on this I wouldn’t bet!
He checked the pill boxes, now feeling perplexed,
The plastic storage bins he tackled next,
He emptied each one out and checked,
He didn’t really expect to find the alarm, in retrospect,
Then he realised what he had not checked
His bag of rubbish he carries about, but the alarm he couldn’t detect!
His hopes of a successful outcome were now wrecked!
Guess where the fool had a look next?
Four days later, the alarm still not found,
Despite his hundreds of little looks around!
He has to go all on his own,
To beg forgiveness, all alone,
To Dean Walker the Coordinator,
And explain he’s lost his alarm, and soon,
She may lose her temper, might hit him with the ladle-spoon,
Perhaps telling him he’s an incompetent Goon!
Failure to find this alarm may reap a Typhoon,
He hopes to get the courage to inform Deans or Julie, this afternoon!
I sprang awake about 0100hrs, WC’d and remembered part of a dream I’d had.
I was desperately chasing some people (No idea who) and just could not catch them. This seemed to go on for ages, I’m not sure but think the people kept changing into other people when I got close to them so had to chase a different one? Next minute I was being crushed to death by a Russian T34 tank – then a nurse was trying to pull me out of a coffin shouting that I’d took the wrong tablets, Morrison’s had sold out of seaweed and not to forget I was being executed by Idi Amin on Sunday?
Down to the fridge and got the Daktakort cream out of the fridge, back up and washed the ‘Inch’ and applied the cream – it is bleeding again this morning. Tsk!
WC during which I discovered my haemorrhoids were bleeding too! Huh!
Feeling well down today.
Decided not to go out today, just stay in and potter on the web and mope about.
The ‘Inch’ is still dribbling bits of blood? Oh dear!
Put some extra Daktacort Cream from the fridge on him.
But an hour later I could feel the warm wet sensation and was bleeding was much as it ever was last week – Oh dear, summat else to worry about – I’m fed-up!
Coreldraw being corrupted (Not as bad as the UK politicians yet), sometimes it will open sometimes not, it always tells me to close it and restart which I have to do then it decided if it will start on its own accord. Sometimes it lets me work-on, but it never allows me to save any page or do anything complicated like Vignette Shadow or cropping. It freezes at will, often needing an forcing close-down – then the laptop takes an hour at least to go through the palaver to restart. Tsk!
I’m having to use stuff I did earlier graphicalisation-wise. Still, it will often let me import photo’s from my camera and images from the web… but am I bothered? – Yes!
Had a massive nosh before I got me head down. Lamb casserole and cocktail sausages followed by ice-cream lolly and cheesey curls. Surprised I wasn’t sick.
Yer can tell I’m a tad depressed.
Then the ‘Inch’ bled a bit, but far less than earlier.
Arthritis, piles, ulcer and Angina have not been too bad today.
Tonight I dropped me nights tablet pot and could not find the Warfarin tablets anywhere? Came down to get another pot and found I’d left the laptop on again? Is it doing it on its own? It was a hell of a job to get it to close down.
Part 16: Inchcock goes into the offenders relocation digs – unknowingly!
Mummy had done another bunk, and I could stay with her (the neighbours) house until I found somewhere to live!) This seemed to please her Security Guard husband’s Alsatian no end, as I able to supply the snarling, vicious, yet pampered beast with a choice of bone selections for him to chew on overnight, as I slept on the settee.
She quipped that she had got me somewhere to live. (Which I thought I’d already got before she stopped paying the rent, emptied the gas and electricity meters, flogged off some of the furniture, all my stuff, all Dad’s stuff, sold a neighbouring family a holiday in a none existent caravan, and did a runner!)
I went around that night to view these digs – and found the landlady to be firm but nice with it. Mary her name was.
The three storey house had 6 bedrooms, one a single, two doubles, two triple bedded, one with four beds, and the top one with nine beds in it.
So I moved in, and soon settled in with the other 11 or so lads who were staying there.
The landlady, Mary Gavin came from Athlone in Ireland, was hard, fair, and a none-bull-shitter, what she said went.
Her husband Jack was a Nottingham man, big, and as soft of butter, I never knew him to lose his temper.
I soon palled up with other three the lads in my bedroom, and being the youngest, was soon introduced to the pleasures of regular intakes of Home Ales, how to play darts, and the perpetual tottie seeking activities that I was not very good at… keen, persistent, avid, but generally unsuccessful.
The only period of success I had, came after about a year in the digs, and I was doing well at work, had been promoted with a nice increase in pay, and one of lads, I think his name was Trevor, suggested we combine out finances and buy a car on sale just down the road from the digs.
I explained I could not drive, and for the next month one or the other of lads would take me for lessons every night.
We purchased the vehicle, filled it with petrol, took it for a spin, and found it had many, many extras!
1) The steering column gear change was unmasterable to both of us, but at least when either of us went to pick someone up, they would be aware of our arrival beforehand by the tuneful grating noise that accompanied all gear changes.
2) The pleasant aroma of petrol fumes was, it appears standard on that model, and made many long drives intensely enjoyable and worry free!
3) As the head light casings regularly filled up with rainwater, we considered putting a goldfish in to customise the thing.
4) We were unsure who tied the front bumper on, but they used electrical cable, and made a custom job of it, leaving it at a pleasant 15% angle.
5) Air conditioning came through the whole in the drivers foot-well, and the cracks around the inverted rear window.
6) The steering was slack and flaccid to say the least it was rather disconcerting when travelling at speed (not that was very often believe me) as at times you was actually turning the massive very thin steering wheel to the left, as you and the vehicle refused to respond!
7) You had to try not to slam the driver’s doors too hard, as this had a custom of encouraging the side window to disappear with a painful grating noise at it fell.
The last, but most monumental extra I found – was that for some reason, maybe because it and twin headlights and looked American, it was the finest tottie puller in the Nottingham!
A trip to the Pally for a dance and crumpet, now bought success, unparalleled in my lifetime!
The girls were impressed with the car of course, not me!!!
Ah…. memories…. distant memories…. remembering the memories gets harder as I grow into the state of decrepitude and senility, as is the lot of all those who live long enough…
See what I mean, I nearly lost it there!
Anyway, overall it was a slow, noisy, smelly, unreliable, and expensive to run car: The Best Car I’ve Ever Had!
Any-road-up, it was about 8 months after I’d moved into the lodgings, that I found out it was half-way house for prison parolees!
Trust in mother to find me somewhere to live!