1950-60s Tin Bath Uses – In Ode

A short odeing session. My memories of the unexpected usages of the ‘Tin Bath’ that resided most of the time, in the soot-covered viaduct wall out in the back yard of Brookfield Place, Nottingham.

Traditional Usage

The tin bath hung on the viaduct wall for ages; why?
Used for bathing once a week, oh, my…
Unless Dad was working that Saturday, this I can ratify
It was occasionally used for other purposes, I’ll identify…

Coal Moving?

Twice a year, we’d get a ton of coal delivered for free,
Mostly slack, very few actual lumps in it, you see,
Someone had to sort and sift through it; that would be me!
So, I was allowed to get black and dirty, temporarily…
The coal was tipped into the bath on delivery…
The bath got all bent out of shape, a pity…
I’d start with the sieving, somewhat tetchily!
Move any lumps into the coal house, repeatedly,
But it was, of course, a necessity,
It took me hours, Dad would pay me 3d, haughtily!

♥ Auntie Kerry… the fondler ♥

Cleaning the bath hurt terribly…
Dust in the eyes, throat made me feel sickly,
The thought of bathing next was lovely,
As long as it was conducted, by my Auntie Kerry!
I was too young to know of things as nookie!

The Hartleys Arrive – Bloodbath!

It really surprised me, she bought a live turkey,
She fed it up and had to kill it, you see…
She chopped off its head, it still ran around running free…
Such a culture shock for me…
The yard was covered, slimy innards, and very bloody!

Tin Bath To The Rescue!

Dad came up with a solution for next years bloodbath,
They could use our galvanized tin bath…
To contain the turkey, thus less backyard backsplash?
As I recall, they used the leftovers to make goulash?

Gawd, I miss these neighbours!

I thought I’d miss seeing the first manned spaceflight,
Yuri Gagarin, I heard it on the radio, in the papers, alright…
Leslie called; Mrs Hartley sent me a remarkable invite…
Watch it on our TV; they even gave me sarnie, of Marmite!

Part Of Inchcock’s Memories In Ode Series.

Tips & Advice – Part 5¾ – In Bad Ode

Related In Chronically Bad Ode

Today’s Tips & Advice topics for Whippersnappers are drawn from the long list of Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas suffered by Inchcock over the many depressing, failed years. In the hopes that the Whippersnappers will be better prepared for the coming of old age, senility, loneliness and thus: Thus at least giving them a chance to get things right. They can welcome death when it arrives and will make their passing a sweeter thing, as they gladly escape the moralless, debauched, cruel world. My pleasure!

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

When I learned what Mother said when I was born,
To the midwife, was ‘I don’t want it, throw it in the Trent’!
I showed no bitterness, no scorn…
Although it was a bit of a rent…
I just carried on, not forlorn?
Although young, you must try to find out what she meant!

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The Mysterious Auntie Kerry

When a previously unheard off Auntie Kerry,
She was attentive, a massager and maternalistic,
Came to bath me, she smelt of sherry,
She spoke proper English, seemed aristocratic,
She was gentle with me, bar the occasional battery…
Bath time with her was a pleasure, never dramatic,
But this always left me contented and merry…
I think when she’d leave, I’d turned lovesick?
Aunt Kelly was touchy-touchy and charismatic,
I was heartbroken when she stopped coming, oh, very!

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

Never approach a horse from behind,
When it’s wearing blinkers…
Cause you may well find…
You could get a kick in the knackers!

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

Please wear a face mask still,
When out and about in buses and shops,
Help stop others from getting ill,
It would be appreciated if you will!

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

Or not?

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

For the sake of clarity, rhyming will be suspended for this, most important of Advice & Tips, on the aged and disabled old codgers dangers and problems with the Porcelain Throne activities; That the Whippersnappers may not yet be aware of, that are on their way.

Getting To The Throne On Time:

Important: Any early warning signs of evacuations being needed mustn’t be ignored. Never, and I mean Never, delay your journey to the toilet!
Fair enough, I do seem to get wildly varying modes of evacuations – rock-solid half-hour minimum ones and squirty, almost liquid efforts. Be prepared for either!
The days of “I’ll just finish this then get off to the bog” will end on your first Accifauxpas en route! Believe me, this will come!

Consistently distribute your walking sticks – I have one in the hallway near the flat door, the kitchen, front room, and main room. This will be priceless when needed – and they will be! I also have picker-uppers in the kitchen, main room and wet room.

Also, the availability of disinfectants is advised; I have Dettol and Zoflora Lemon in all three rooms, along with fresh air spray. Because you will never know when an escapage of blood, poo-poo or urine will occur. These events will cause self-embarrassment, frustration and cost you so much pain and time to clean up and medicate; each time, you will get little else done that day! So, another essentiality is a good supply of protection pants at all times.

Below is my current stock of PPs in the wet room. The Tena ones are a little bulky and are bound to show through the trousers when I go out without a long jumper on. Embarrassment Scale ‘A’.

However, I have found some PPs named Depend, bought them from Amazon. They are a lot cheaper than the Tena. At first, I was not impressed; they are less bulky, thinner than the expensive ones. I believed that they would not cope with a decent leakage. I thought that Blood from Little Inchies fungal lesion, a urine blast, or heaven forbid, a solid evacuation from the rear, would not be containable. Good news. Well, not that I had the urine and bleeding leak from Little Inchie in itself, but how well the Dependable pants coped with it all. I was well-pleased with ’em!

Just another warning about crap products in the Protection Pants department; Avoid Morrisons Comfort Pants at all costs! Firstly they are not comfortable in the slightest! And are not fit for purpose. I had a minor leakage of blood from the fungal lesion a month ago, when I was wearing a pair of these pants, ended up with blood on my legs and knees, and had to scrap the trousers!

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

A Final Tip!

When in hospital after having a stroke (which the NHS assures us will happen to 3.3 out of every 5 people in the UK), and you get a leg ulcer to come up on your ankle – don’t fret!

Mine is already beginning to ease and after only three years.

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

Part of the Inchcock Make ‘Em Laugh, – In Ode Series

Inchcocks Monday’s Mental Meanderings

Mr Unfair

With him, you’ll not be able to communicate…
At any time disaster, Accifauxpas, you have to wait…
He’ll hit you anytime or where your life he can decimate!
His murderous, clever skills, I’d like to cremate…
But he’s not real, so he’ll carry on brutally, as usual, mate!

He’ll get at you if you feeling on a high, or unwell,
He ignores it when you scream, beg and yell!
What will he bring you next? You can never tell…
Coronavirus, measles, arthritis? You cannot foretell,
In making you cringe and frightened, he can excel!
If you’re a victim, you can expect the death knell,
It’s better than this painful life in ‘Mr Unfair’s’ hell!
—————————————————————————

‘Odds & Sods…’

One moment I’d be thinking of 1966, at Wembley,
Where did I put my book Contraband, by Dennis Wheatley?
Ogle out of the window, a kid’s playing with a frisbee,
Rushing like to be on time to take a wee-wee…
Grumps! A clean-up, Little Inchy leaked rather untimely!
What was important to remember… Ah, today Sainsbury’s!
Carer Richard arrived late, in a rush, but we had some repartee!
Crap on the gogglebox, nothing for me…
I was slightly tempted to watch Old Mother Riley,
Until I was reminded what rubbish it was in 1953!
Mind you, in those days, Inchcock had a coal fire and settee,
He gorrit from Wigfalls, 2/6d a week, and deposit 12/3d,
Ah, the time when Inchie swore at a football referee…
His first time in a Black Maria, after ‘match, he was set free!
He never dreamed of having loadsamoney…
Just as well, life ain’t been all milk and honey,
But he still tries to be witty and funny…
He gets it all wrong, of course, lucks has been his biggest absentee!
Still, he’s stopped smoking and drinking, Yessiree!
Now no one talks to him nowadays, you see!

—————————————————————————

Grizelda

Inchcock’s had to cope with many a grievance,
Well, injustices, wrongdoings, and many disagreements,
He learnt boxing so as to boost his confidence,
100% record, he lost every bout, but kept his effervescence!

He’d try to make people laugh, so’s not to upset them,
But this only caused further thumping and mayhem…
They could be brutal, but not very often,
Then a day came when he was smitten!
Grizelda a German gal, big solid; but with Inchie, a kitten…
6ft – 4in, with biceps like tungsten!
Inchcock’s passions she did enliven…
He was so glad he enlightened…
Never again, was Inchcock frightened!

Part Of The Inchcock Make Them Laugh, In Ode Series

Inchcock’s Weekly Bath – In Ode

Inchock’s Memories Series

Ah, Good evening!

I’d love to tell of my one bath a week, even if it’s not too poetic,
It’s just for fun; nothing meant didactic…
Dad would decide when the bath was needed, I was like a lunatic,
Got the pans and kettles on the fire, all rushing and frantic!

Worra Life It Wor!

It wasn’t easy getting it from the backyard wall,
I struggled with only being 3ft something tall,
Then clean it with a leather ball…
Dragging it in through the back hall…
Filling it with hot water, there wasn’t much at all…

Carbolic soap, Dad’d get in, having a soak,
He could not be rushed; he was that sort of bloke,
I refilled the pots and kettles, back on the boil,
Gawd, it was an arduous task, all sweat and toil!

I used to hope that the Dad would rush his frolic,
But no chance, once he smelt the carbolic!
He’d lay back and sing, drink something alcoholic,
I had to be patient and wait, be stoic!

Just Thinking Back… Hehe!

He’d call for more hot water; I dare not offer rhetoric…
I’d top up the water, boy, was I young and omnific!
He’d sing another song and say something prophetic,
I’m late with hot water top-up; he calls me a schmendrick!
He’d clip me round the ear hole; at that, he was slick!
Well over an hour, he’d soak, giving me the odd backhanded flick,

“Get me clothes!” At last… I don’t want to be a critic…
The water was dirty and cold, but my being a workaholic,
Got his togs while he cut his cowlick…
At long last, it was time for a cold bath for me!

He’ll get out eventually and go into the kitchen to shave,
Reminding me not to make a mess and behave…
He’d splashed dirty water all over, another job he gave…
“Clean the bath properly, the carpet, and the fireplace you!”
So after my five minutes, I was so cold and blue!
Emptying the bath, then to get it outside too!
Embarrassingly, my skinny body still smelt mephitic!

But Dad had an urgent job to do,
“So no hot water added for you!”
He was off for a pint at the Barley Moo!

The bath back on the wall outside,
Both rooms were all cleaned and dried,
His meal next, no proper cooking, only summat fried…
Bacon and eggs, some beans, and his Mothers Pride…
That was his favourite bread,
It was a penny cheaper, that being said…

♫ Happiness, happiness ♫

When will he return, six o’clock or ten?
The long wait to be suffered then…
His return was usually undramatic,
Drunk, he’d often fall over – he was pretty acrobatic!

Sozzled suited me cause he couldn’t taste the food,
And was generally in a decent mood,
If he’d done well at Snooker, a good attitude!
If he’d guzzled Guinness or a more potent brew!
Me keeping out of the way is what I’d do!
Still, thanks for reading, kind of you!

Inchcocks Keeping Active Routine

In Excruciatingly Bad Ode

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

TIPS and ADVICE

It is essential, from your every waking moment, daily,
To assess the ailments, for any possibly acting bolshy,
That gets the brain going, fretting, and panicking too!
On the physical side; don’t expect things with spectacularity,
More concentrate, on dogged hopes and sustainability,
At all times, anticipate and expect, constant impeachability!

No doubt the wee-wees will start then, with tenacity,
Sometimes persistent, more usually of aperiodically,
The first slash you take will be with a certain trepidity!
They’ll be blood, orange urine, this’ll confirm your panic ability!
Apply the Daktacort Hydrocortisone, you’ll scream!
To ease the agony, just think of it, as being a dream!
And count slowly to yourself, up to a thousand and thirteen!

You’ll get letters, forms, threats and emails from authorities,
Along with phone calls, texts, these are not abnormalities,
How much pension and total cash are in your bank?
They raised the total allowed, in reply I was frank!
An hour a week for shopping, laundry, will cost me £280 a week!
It’s best at this time, not to freak!

Nottingham Revenue and Benefits called me on the phone…
The 2½hr form-filling left me in an ether world zone!
My concentration had departed, off it had flown…
I thanked him, with a verbal groan!

He said he’d sent the paperwork to sign & return,
Of course, no help was given, I soon did learn,
Result in today, on a downer now, scowled and had a gurn!
Excuse me, off to for a wee-wee, I must adjourn…

Ah, I’ve made beef stew for later, my hunger does grow…
Hello, it’s already made… Carer due, Doctors tomorrow,
I’m still angry with myself, there is a self-pitying sorrow,
Life at the moment, is annoying, no zest… hollow!
It’s me that is annoying me… that what I’ll have to forego…
The secret costs of the carers costs rise… Oh, blow!

At times like this, try not to get neurotic,
You’ll only get worse if you get all frenetic!
Change your mood to romantic or quixotic,
Think of happy times, when life was sybaritic!

Of course, I write mostly conceptualistic,
You might try changing your mood to eucharistic?
Or change to using heliotrope coloured lipstick?
Cause it won’t help, people’ll think you’re a dipstick!
But a different set of worries, even anti-humanistic…
Maybe enough to stop your brain from going ballistic?

There’ll be daily Whoopsies, Accifauxpas and many a quarrel,
Several times daily, to be insulted, and get a bombshell,
At times these may overpower your one brain cell…
Not to worry, you’ll have forgotten your previous natter,
Diagnosed last week, I’m aneurysmatic, but it doesn’t matter,
You’ll have enough ailments in the body, no hopes to shatter!

Your hero may be Hawking, Newton, mine is Albert Einstein,
Whichever, it matters not, for you must worry not,
Peoples choices whatever they are, are fine…
Cause you’ll only forget tomorrow, and feel a clot!

Usual things to get Arthur Itis, and become annuhilistic,
And your Willy will shrink, change its colour to pink,
You need do nothing about these, they are automatic,
Oh, and you’ll leave the hot water tap running in the sink!
Of the young, you’ll become an inpatient critic!
Your loss of memory will make you forget to think!
You’ll lose your egoisticness, no longer be artistic,
You’ll find yourself on depressions very brink…
I’m only trying to help – just giving you the wink!

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

There are times when one realizes that one had not got it right, forgotten something, missed something, lost something…

This is Perfectly Normal – Don’t Fret!

Ode to Maintaining One’s Sanity – Part Four or summat

In an odd mood this morning, folks, sorry, The early morning perkiness indicates me; Has done a bunk, I fear! Grugglebogness! Worries over the increase in carer fees, but my stepdaughter Jill (not really, but she ought to adopt me!), is helping me out again and investigating why I have been told I will be paying it from last Monday, but no one has told me how much it will be? I fret so easily nowadays. Hehe!

There was a time long ago, I w fascinated by Dennis Wheatley,
His character, Gregory Sallust, I thought was top quality,
Cunning, dedicated, loyal, brave with great chivalry,
I’d get back from the local hostelry,
After drinking and revelry…
Fall up or down the stairs accidentally,
Badly affected, alcoholically.

Working and drinking made my entire constellation,
For years, there was no guilt, and no contrition,
Boozing gave me a social connection…
I enjoyed it, beer and me had a cohabitation,
My taxes paid, drinking gave me no consternation!

Then one day, suddenly I decided out of the blue,
To stop my drinking ale, swearing never again to do!
The hardest thing I’d ever done, I can tell you!
I’ll not go into my suffering hullabaloo,
Never since have I drank plonk or used a corkscrew!

Now, so many years later, life is barren…
Of so-called friends, all abandoned me again,
Now I am an aged, sickly doyen…
Miserable, grumpy, but clean-shaven,
Clean-shaven? Why was that written?
I always wanted to be a Tibicen,
A flutist, but that’s probably not relevant,
I’m wandering here a bit, having a vent,

Not a vent… Erm… having a mental orbit!
Feeling a bit of a twit,
Misspellings lost words, things miswriting…
I’m losing it again, Gawdamit!

My confidence is getting titchier,
My mood is definitely schmaltzier,
My trips to the Throne frequenter
My Gawd, that’s four times this morning…
What is happening?
Each visit gets messier!
Stomach aching and is paunchier!
The passing of wind is getting noisier,
Evacuated product is meatier!
Every frequent wee-wee grows oozier!
It’s a good job that I’m no longer boozier!

It’s the memory that confuses me most,
I try, and I’ve not yet given up the ghost,
The brain nowadays is a far outpost…
Gives me access once or twice daily, at most!
But still, I remain chatty and verbose…
Seeking peace and inner glasnost,
And the ability to do my blogpost!

The Carers come twice a day; most are congenial,
Show patience, as I get confused, me being demential,
Some take my rubbish to the bin, others are contractual,
The good ones outweigh the not so good; it’s factual!
I usually get the shakes and a wobble…
Some chinwag, they go to that trouble,
This leaves me in a contentment bubble!

I like to think that I am still trainable,
But memory loss is always unavoidable,
Although, day to day it can be changeable,
That’s when I can get feeling unamiable…
And, I believe there is only me blameable,
Guilt can make contentment unavailable,
Thinking at times that I should be throttleable,
Then a kind act is given, and I get the unattainable,
And life is temporarily less circumscriptible,
Then no longer think I’m gullible or sulliable!

Some mornings I seem to transmogrify…
One leg fluid-filled, ‘tother thin, don’t know why?
Then there is Saccade Sandra, in my right eye,
My spectacles, the optician has to rectify,
He’s a snotty bloke, but at least I know why…
Last time I visited their pig-sty,
I warned the Lady of Peripheral Neuropathy, why?
Cause I’d had it bad, arm and leg shaking, me oh my!
The arm shot out, making her test lenses fly…
Her stare said she wanted me to painfully die!
The ladies hatred, I could not nullify!
So, going there again could make me cry!

This mornings carer, not ringing the bell, an oversight?
No, she never does; I didn’t hear her, her voice is light,
Crept up behind me, didn’t half give me a flipping fright!
Did she say good morning? Well, she well might…
But I didn’t hear her in the dark light.

“Sit down!” she suddenly boomed out,
Sticking her finger out towards the chair,
I took the medications, with trepidation about…
But I didn’t sit in the chair, to be fair…
I thought she wanted to give me a clout!
I chatted about it being so dark,
She was not ready for chin-waggings remarks,
Yet departed, happy as a lark?

Depression began to activate…
I found it hard to concentrate,
The Porcelain Throne was again much used,
Messy, tacky, splashes and floused…
The Throne today is much overused!
At last, it was done and cleaned. I did vacate…
Leaving the hot tap running, I did not appreciate!
No chance of a shave and shower now, mate!
I was disoriented, irritable, not focused,
In a massive fed-upperdness, I was circumfused,
I need to get myself refocused
Sod-it! Back to the Porcelain Throne, I had to navigate!

This below is the wet room, which contains the much overused Porcelain Throne. Today, I discovered that it includes 242 wall tiles, 54 cracks in the floor, and 78 on the ceiling. Which also has 14 lumps and a damp patch. The cross wording did not go well; two clues were solved in a total time on the book of three hours.

The most used room of the day!

Part of the Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series

Inchcock Ode To Saturday

I’d hoped that today would be something of a breakthrough…
The end of two days of Accifauxpas & Whoopsidangeplops, too!
Although the cock-ups today have been less, by a few,
And my panics, worries, I have managed to subdue,
The expectancy of more bother dwells in every sinew!
And the Thought Storms still rage; it’s a mental stew!

The postman called, told me that £10.50 postage was due,
A parcel from Amazon, underpaid, so it must be by you!
Well, that’ll leave me with little monetary residue…
It was only a jug of sauce too – Hickory smoked barbecue,
It cost about a tenner, for Amazon’s revenue!…
Now I’ve paid £20 quid plus for it, should I sue?
I’ll get it wrong, whatever I try to do…
Amazon, double the cost, so much for their value!

I sometimes wish that I was in Timbuktu,
I wish I still had my beloved Justy, a Suburu,
I wished I’d learnt how to play the didgeridoo,
I’m glad I bought diabetic socks, made of bamboo,

I wish I had less bother when taking a poo-poo!
I wish it wasn’t so painful when using the loo,
Taking a leak so often is another issue…
Haemorrhoids are bleeding, well, that’s what they do,
Always with a mess to clean from the residue,

Still, I’ve got over my last tumble well, Phew!
I like to think I’m a man of virtue,
I should look up what it means, I ought to,
Peripheral Neuropathy problems continue,
As the Doctor said, ‘There’s nothing we can do!’

Enough of this self-pity and feeling blue!
Time to cheer up… I know, I’ll put on my pink tutu?
Make a mug of Glengettie, it’s made my Typhoo,
No time left to be depressed at this venue…
Contentment, hopes, laughter, I shall imbue,
Next week, flue jab, dentist and Audio clinic too!
I hope I get to them on time, when due…
Note to self: depression you must discontinue!

How, you ask? Well, let’s have a review…
Imagine you’re out in the sunshine at the bayou,
If you were there, what’d you like to do?
I told myself, have a bowl of jelly or Irish stew…
Then have a pipe of Erinmore mixture, honeydew,
I answered myself, that’s daft, baccy’s been barred for you!
Jelly’s too sweet, and Irish stew is fattening for too!

I was getting fed up with myself; an argument was due…
So, can I eat yoghourt or tofu,
But I ignored myself and withdrew…
Went off to the Porcelain Throne set-to…
Now, if the end to this ode confuses you,
It does me, too… am I missing a screw?
Thank You!

Part Of The Inchcock Today Make-Em-Laugh Ode Series

Inchcocks Attempted Escape Ode – It failed, of course!

Inchies Attempted Escape Ode

It’s Not Easy, You Know!

Getting out, that’s something of a rarity!

The preparation for escape overall, schmeered,
Is something that is trepidatious and feared.
But have to be, they have to have persevered,
Painful, dangerous tasks have to be furthered,
Here’s s graphic of some jobs needing to be completed…,

This Mornings Palavas

A smidge high, the body temperature today,
Nowt to fret over, it’s often been this way,
The sphygmomanometer gave 168/71… Hey!
Pulse 97 – blimey! Hope they go down, I pray!

Mike Fries CEO Liberty-Global – Virgin Media

Got sorted out, and low and behold,
Onto the computer, and I’ve got all frampold…
Liberty-Global Virgin Internet – went down six-fold!
My view of this crap firm must remain untold!
Or I may pass my anger-management threshold!

So Much For Taking One Of These!

To the Porcelain Throne and on the seat…
Passing the evacuation was an uncomfortable feat!
The runny gooey mess was finally complete…
Had to clean everything; I hope there’s no repeat!

I took the above morning medications…
None of them caused me any addictions!
Stubbed my toe, causing many ululations,
Noticed on the legs, more even vesiculations,
Such is life, full of irritating tribulations!

The prescription toothpaste a bit sour?
Eight dropsies shaving, three in the shower,
New soap today, scented with elderflower?
Dropped the sponge, bent, hit my head, Wowser!
Against the wall box that giveth the power.
Didn’t half hurt; it made me swear and cower!
It was still hurting after over an hour!

Ah, blood runneth from my private region!
Yes, it was from Little Inchies fungal lesion,
I’d not caught or banged it – what’s the reason?
Ointmentating hurt had to have an intermission!
At least the boils on the bum are in remission!

Humph!

Now to apply the Germoloids ointment,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, ah, now so evanescent,
And the escaping blasts of wind were now conticent,
Oh, that Germoloid, it really is heaven sent!.

Now to use the soothing, mild Germolene cream,
On the stomach folds, eases the itching like a dream,
Another cream, with results I hold in esteem.
Nowt in this product to make me scream…
Not like Dakacort, that gives me agony I can’t redeem!m,

Saccades eye drops; next, you know…
I miss target often; it runs down my nose…
Cheek, then though the moustache it goes,
Into my mouth, how it’s not poisoned me, I don’t know?

Ear drops, well, Olive Oil,
No, bother, sweat or toil,
Hello, I’ve just found another gum boil!
Just doing the ablutions nowadays is a droil!

Into the PP’s, and freshened and dressed,
Suddenly felt at my embarrassingly awfullest…
Took me so long to get ready again…
I’d missed the bus; it’s such a pain…
I’d lost my desire a zest…
The bus had gone, too late, what a bain!
I now accept it… I’m going insane!

Part of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme

Inchcocks Terrible Ode (I did it cause I’ve got to stay awake for a food delivery) Sorry!

Morning Thoughts

I lay there, passing wind in the dawnlight,

And fell out of the chair, t’was a terrible sight,

Bruised and bloodied, getting back up was a fight,

Reached for wind-up torchlight,

Cathy Cartilage was stinging a mite,

The patella painful and tight,

I struggled up on my feet, alright.

Bet I’ll still be in pain, tonight,

My face and skin looked ghostly white,

Go on WordPress, well I might!

Make some Chilli-Con-Carnie? Today’s highlight?

I must be careful of the Kryptonite,

Not get excited, too keen or uptight,

Ah, the eye haemorrhaging, is a blight,

I’ll soak the knee in the bowl, it’s bakelite,

I’ve got food arriving, this Thursday night,

Glengettie tea, onions,  and Marmite,

Morrison’s might substitute things with dynamite,

Protection Pants, olive oil, well, they might?

This ode, I know is crap, and I feel contrite,

I’ll get summat to eat… Ah, I’ll have deviled eggs and Vegemite?

 

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit