Inchcock Today: Sunday 11th September 2022

SUNDAY’S POLITICAL CARTOON
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SUNDAY’S ODE
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07:10hrs: Yet another night of jumping awake and waiting to nod off again. So much so that on waking up proper, around 05:00hrs, I drifted off unintentionally until 07:10hrs. Sweet Morpheus was not kind to me last night at all.
I feared that the Carer might have called earlier, but he/she could not get in. Especially if it was an annoying one who refused to press the doorbell. I always hear that, and it never fails to wake me up if asleep, and it had not done that. I caught my balance and hobbled to unlock the front door. But it was not locked! So was pretty sure that they would have walked in anyway.
Being up late, I started to prep Josies veg for her chilli-con-carne meal. Got them on the boil and added them to the saucepan.
Got the sorted out. A nice looking set of returns this time. SIA dropped to 138. DIA down to 61, Pulse up but not a lot, to 78.
Put the figures into the CP analyser and got this returned. Great, I’m back just in the amber! In the High-Normal Zone.

My noisy Neighbour above, Herbert, sounded off, with a different style of sound today. A chug-chugging for a few minutes, then a loud thud. Then silence… Dang sang dang, Dang! Oh, I do hope he’s not hurt himself; you know, dropped a steam engine on his foot and is laying there in absolute agony as the hot steam burns its way through his clothing and into his lower regions. I considered going up to ask if he was alright, just for a laugh.

Off to make my first brew of Glengettie Welsh tea. And I thought (I do that occasionally), Blimey, it’s dark out there!

I temporarily lifted the glasses from my nose to reveal the right view, although blurred from the window – it was foggy, to say the least. The first photo was taken straight ahead.
The second one of straight down n from the window of the Chestnut Drive car park. A good job I was using the grab strap on my wrist. Cause I dropped the Lumix, but it didn’t get away from me; the strap held it.
Then went out on the balcony and took this picture. Not that there is much to see other than fog. Hehe!

I went through to the kitchen and checked on Josie’s food progress. Looking good and tasting good too! I reckon the basil helped today.
Just hope Josie likes it.

I went on the blogging duties then and got involved with the Ode Words list again. An hour or two was lost there. Tsk! I  reluctantly had to force myself to stop.

Got the meal delivered to Josie. Who did not mention Betty Bunter today? But did ask me for the umpteenth time if I drink the gin etc. I said no. She added: Whyever do you buy it then? I did mention this time; For the pleasure of sharing and caring, Josie. I got a furrowed brow and an odd sort of ‘He’s nuts!’ look. Hehe!

Then I set about cleaning up the kitchen… and the hot water tap was running cold! So, no shaving for me today… unless it comes back on. Then the fear that I may have left the tap running in the wet room came over me…
The old ticker was beating as I hurried into the wet room – but all was okay in there! Phew!
Back to cleaning the kitchen, which was a bit risky, Accifauxpas-wise. Boiling kettles and saucepans of water so I could clean up was done carefully. and slowly to avoid any spillages.  

I’d filled another waste bag already, so took it to the chute room.
I used a photo from the last time I did this. (Cause I didn’t take the camera with me) It’s getting a regular habit. Dropped the posh-looking collapsible stick, bent down to retrieve it, and hit my head in the cast-iron chute lid. I merely laughed off the pained head, right knee and my feeling a pratt. And skipped back to the flat yodelling.

I got the Porcelain Throne activities done and checked the knee and head the ankle was suddenly stinging. Rubbed some Phorpain gel in the knee, and spot of Germolene on the back of the head, and some Arnica cream on the ankle. I think I got these the wrong way around? The ankles and feet looked pretty good.

Time to get my own nosh now.
Apart from undercooking the veggie burger, overcooking the chips (fries), and the Heinz bean-filled potato croquettes, well; I broke another tooth eating a chip. The undercooked burger gave me the wind and runs. As for the bean-filled potato croquettes, Never again! I still have four of them left in the freezer, so if anyone fancies them and has a liking for eating cardboard, please come and help yourself. But, be warned, a taste rating of 1⅛/10 was given. Mostly mayhap to my lack of culinary skills, though? Guilty!

Went to get the pots washed, but the hot water was barely warm again. Hell of a dangerous job having to heat water in the kettle and saucepan to use. And how do I go on in trying to shave? I’d assumed the water would get heated again by now, but no! I didn’t shave yesterday, so must do it tonight somehow.

Cassie woke me up. I was deep in sleep and dreaming. Of a cyber-friend, Billum. He was at a laptop using a slide rule and kept cutting his finger? Cassie got the medications done and was keen to get away, not that she rushed anything, oh no. She asked if anything else was needed as she approached the inner door. There wasn’t. and I offered her a choice of drinks and nibbles. She only took a Tango drink… I think. Took the waste gag out with her, bless her cotton socks.

I decided to get a stand-up wash and shave and just make the best of shaving carefully. I should not have risked it, really. The water was barely warm still, and each time I refilled the sink, it seemed to be getting colder. When the water was really hot, as it has been for months now, if, or rather when I cut myself shaving, the hot water kept the bleeding down to a minimum. But not today, oh no! I stopped shaving, deciding that the hot water must surely be hot by the morning, and I have the shave then.

I settled to watch a programme on remembering the Twin Towers. But drifted off at the first set of commercials.

Sunday 28th August 2022: Inchcock A Year Older

POLITICAL HUMOUR TO START THE BLOG

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0450hrs: Up for a wee-wee, and dare not get back to sleep, as the food delivery is due twixt 06:00>10:00hrs. If it does come early, I need to hear the intercom to let them in. So, I stayed up. Made a start by doing the .
How , the flipping Blood Pressure has shot up again.
SYS 160, DIA 75, and the Pulse, I think, can’t see it very well, at 74.
The body temperature at 3.32°f is not far off at all.

It’s such a shame cause my BP has been returning fair figures for the last few days. Back up somewhat today, though. Ah, maybe a birthday pressie? Hahaha! As I recall, the last three birthdays both proved to be injury prone. I had a fall with the three-wheeler after getting out from the stroke. Hospital overnight.
Then a series of little accidents and

Sister Jane @ 76!

Whoopsiedangleplops day. Last year I got three cards, a record there! sister Jane of course, always remembers; bless her. I anticipate a phone call later on from the gal.

And today, just the one card this year from ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Obergruppenfürheress and Lap-Top Dancer, Warden Deana. A frequent Saviour of mine, sorting out travel arrangements and appointments for me. A treasure!

Made a start on this bog’s template, and went for a wee-wee, wash and brush up, and needed the . Trotsky Terence was back in charge again. Phooey, watery and messy! Still, no bleeding or pain at all.

I put the computer in sleep mode, and I got down on the recliner… and fell asleep. Woken an hour later; Carolyn stood over me; I was confused for a while, still half-asleep. She got the medications sorted, and we had a little natter, which is always welcome. Carolyn took the waste bag to the chute for me on her way out. A cold Mojito from the fridge as a thank you.

Again! Woke in need of a wee-wee, and as I rose up on my wobbly feet, the landline burst forth. It was Sainsbury’s delivery driver, saying he was outside. I started to tell him how to use the call system, and he said he was outside the flat door! I hadn’t heard the door chime. I pressed it to try it out and could not hear it, but the chap could. Ah… I’d not put the olive oil in the tab-holes this morning!  Twit!
The man was patient with me, and he loaded the boxes with care. I thanked him, and off he went, me forgetting to offer him a tipple or nibble. I felt so bad about that.
I got the cartons and bag with the two frozen items into the kitchenette and began unloading and photographing the contents as I took them out. Giving myself a on-the-unit corner as I did so. This might be one of those not-good days!

I started by getting the frozen food into the refrigerator. A large bag of chips (fries) and a small bag of some thin fries.
But first, I had to do some jiggling with the foods already in there, as there was not enough room. So some had to go in the bin!
More fresh chips, potatoes, sliced seasoned potatoes and roasting potatoes. Veggie shepherd’s pie, fries, and some mega-expensive shelled garden peas. I can’t see if they are from Nicaragua or Kenya, which are usually the sweeter between the two. They had sent some fresh Broccoli, which I would never have ordered because I’m not permitted to eat any Brassica vegetable cause of the Warfarin.
After I’d got everything put away and stored, I checked the various

So, where did the fresh bag of broccoli come from? I thought I’d ordered some bananas, too… did I (or Doreen Dementia and Cataract Cathy) get it wrong again? I imagine it might have been my bad. So, banana-less, bread-less, and Bleach-less, I’ll have to do a Morrison order for later in the week. Not that I have any more faith in them, the rob-dogs.

I took the waste bag I’d made up doing the food put away. A simple enough job, you would have thought… so did I – but I should have known better:
Oh, dear, the first cock-up of the job. I dropped the stick as I opened the cast-iron chute lid, and I bent down to retrieve it. I got down alright… Hehehe! getting back up was a struggle. During which I lost a bit of balance, swayed and hit my head on the chute cover! But I was undaunted; I carried on getting the bag into the chute… I trapped a finger in the metal lid! Being the brave hero that I am, I just wrapped a tissue around it and carried on… No moaning, flinching, swearing, feeling sorry for myself. No cursing or grinding of teeth or complaining whatsoever!

There followed a toe-stubbing, a walk into a doorframe going into, and then out of the wet room, and I dropped the mil bottle… twice! Once with the cap on, then, after I’d retrieved it, with the cap off!

I went back to the flat and made a belated start on finishing the Saturday tale of woe. Then, to the accompaniment of   and his concert music of clattering and tap-tapping, made a start on this blog. It didn’t last long. though.

Inchies Good At Waffling!

ALL DAY LONG!

I was getting the nosh prepped and just putting the fries and beefburgers in the oven, and the landline rang. It was Sister Jane ringing to wish me a Happy Birthday. Having just burnt my finger on the oven tray when the phone rang and stubbed my toe en route to the phone, I thought I did really well in trying to sound chirpy. Hahaha! But the ears were not having it! I realised that I’d not put the olive oil in for the midday slot as usual! Then found I could not hear or understand most of what Jane was saying to me. I felt most guilty about this; usually, I never forget the three times a say olive-oiling of the earholes. The conversation was, I think, a little annoying to Sister Jane, but it was to me! I kept apologising because the hearing was nowhere near 100% as usual; that is not good anyway. I was concerned throughout the so-called conversation that I may have let something in the kitchen still cooking or left a tap on, most uncomfortable and guilty installing. Here’s Sister Jane just wanted to wish me a good day, and I could not react correctly as I was never sure what she was saying. I hope she will forgive me. But I ignorantly cut her short to go and check on the kitchen situation. She was okay with that… I hope. Sorry, Jane. ♥ Any good if I blame Dementia Doreen?

I got back to the cooking and found that I had left the hot water tap running. the oven door open, and had knocked the tray on the way out to the phone, ad lost many of the precious raw garden peas onto the top and floor! Turned the now cold tap off. Cleaned up, ointmentated the burnt finger, and got on with making the meal… feeling a heel!

Nosh prepped and served up on the tray. Looking pretty good to me, but this happened yesterday, and it was a disaster taste-wise. Into the front room, into the recline feet up, and had a taste of each item on the plate.
Here’s my report: The first item tasted was ① Thin fries, okay, ② Raw garden peas, great! ③ Caramelised red onion, spot-on! ④ Sliced pickled gherkins, good! ⑤ yellow and red tomatoes, very passable! ⑥ Veggie burger, Grrreat! ⑦ Orange jell sestet, fair! Overall a worthy Taste-Rating of 8.2/10, The first nosh I’ve enjoyed for a few days now. Got the olive oil belatedly in the earhole.

NokiaMy ultra-modern Nokia 9 Pureview Mobile, with its Android (Pie) updateability, Corning Gorilla Glass 5, Octa-Core Gold CPU, 4K@30fps, 1080p@30fps, HDR video, USB Type-C 3.1, %x12 MP. 28mm Camera, Bluetooth, A-GPS, Fingerprint (under display, optical), accelerometer, gyro, proximity, compass, barometer, Li-Po 3320 mAh, non-removable, fast charging 18W, Quick Charge 3.0, USB Power Delivery. and Fast wireless charging 10W, Qi Battery, rang. It was Jenny, bless her, offering some hothouse tomatoes if I wanted any. Oh, yes, I greedily said, please! She’ll drop them up for me later. ♥

A stand-up wash, no shave, I forgot. Hehe! Down in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety, and swiftly fell fast asleep a deep, much-needed sleep!

Jenny came as I was putting a bag of treats ready. She was looking well today,
In fine form, I’m glad to say,
Seeing Jenny can take the blues away!
Jenny’s different to the clamjamfry…
Makes me smile; that’s a guarantee! Thanks, Jenny! ♥

The carer, well carers, there were two, woke me up from my desperately needed rest… Hehehe! I was totally confused by this and fought off falling asleep as they and I spoke. I think one of them was concerned about me not talking much. (I am usually very garrulous when anyone calls on me) But not tonight; unbelievably tired. I assume I went with them to lock the door, as I found it was locked in the morning.

Once more, I dived into the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner! I was asleep in seconds… a beautiful sleep!

Where I stayed, uninterrupted for any wee-weeing,,, until 04:00hrs… Bliss! The legs felt as if they were not mine. Then the deferred wee-weeing began… Boy, did they!

Inchcock Today: Ode to Sanity – Part11⅒th

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part of the Inchies True Make Them Laugh In Ode Series

Inchcock Today: Mind-Wandering…

This Mornings View from the Kitchenette Window

FRIDAY 18th FEBRUARY 2022

03:00hrs I woke up and got up, out of habit…
The Thought Storms did not rabbit?
The reluctant brain remained asleep; Dagnabit
My plans ideas were vague, not implicit…
The memory did not want to work or cohabit…
Vascular-Dementia-Doreen, undoubtedly the culprit!
For about an hour, my thoughts were incipit…
Eventually, I got semi-mind-control, well, a little bit,
But confidence and hopes, the brain did prohibit!

I’d had a better nights sleep, six hours with only three jump-awakes. Mind you, it was still early, but the meandering mind had me out of the recliner, catching my balance, no wee-weeing, no making a brew of Glengettie; straight (well, in a wobbly line) to the kitchenette, and started cleaning the fridge?

I was not fully aware of what I was doing until I dropped a warm-wet cloth onto my foot. This is no bull! And it dawned on me what a good job I’d done of cleaning things up? So much so that I took photographs of my handiwork! How I’d done all the stretching and bending, and without any pains as far as I could tell, baffled me, somewhat.

Am I losing my grip quicker than I’d hoped? Not only was the fridge looking really clean and tidy, spick and span, but I also had no aches and pains, and apart from the one drop of the cloth, I spilt or broke nothing either? Yet another puzzle is how I got all this work done in such a short time? Efficiently too, as far as I could tell.

Or had I? How do I know that I did it at all? How can I not remember doing it all? Why can I recall taking out the door trays and washing them in the sink, quite clearly, but little else until the wet rag fell on my foot? Another Blank-Spell methinks… or do I? Why am I seemingly so willing to share and relate these rather odd things on the web? Dementia-Doreen again? Or mayhaps a call for help.

Even more surprising, why am I, after apparently coming out of the fog, feeling so good about things? Hey-Ho, Doreen again?

I had a reluctant wee-wee, washed, and got the laundry bag assembled for collection by the Carer later on. Then off to make a brew of tea, Thompsons Punjana this time. Although dour-looking, the view from the window made me take two shots of it and stick them together (Top of the page).

I pressed on updating yesterday’s blog with the most unexpected enthusiasm; I got it finished and posted off to WordPress. Did the WordPress comments, Emails (lovely one from HRH Lisa). Then I went on the WP Reader.

05:30hrs: And Herbert above started banging, clanging and tap-tapping again. He continued for several hours on and off; it sounded like he kept dropping something metal on the floor? I hope he hurts himself… I mean, he doesn’t hurt himself. ☠

♫ Oh, Susana’s ♫ tune rang out. In came Carer Cassie. Now, this may be hard for you to understand, but I had to ask her her name again this morning. The gal took it all in her stride, so I assume many others in these flats are affected by the dreaded Vascular-Dementia-Doreen, and cannot remember the Carers names the same as me? Hehehe! Cassie soon got the medicationings done, collected the laundry bag, and off she trotted, with a thank you nibble and drinkie-poo.

Wet room

Ablutioning Time!

What a session that was! Mucho-super good, but listening to the Storm Update on the radio was a smidge alarming. For more than one reason. In the first place… ① No, I say zilch cuts when shaving! ② No teeth bleeding. ③ Not a single toe stubbing! ④ No banging into or knocking anything over! ⑤ No leaving taps running!

Storm Warning: Will reach Nottingham this afternoon, ETA 15:00hrs. Parks are closing cause of the danger of trees etc., being blown over. Building structural damage, roofs, etc. at high risk, possibly endangering life. And that’s just for Nottingham, where they anticipate we will be far less affected? All calm but cols out there at the moment, though.

The mark where I knocked over the knife block is clearing up well; it never hurt anyway. Showering went smoothly, too!

I dried off medicated what needed attention. The legs seem to be putting on some weight, higher up? Not surprising, really, I can’t get out and about much nowadays. Spit!

I even got the socks on without the dangerous nerve-wrangling assistance of the green wired Sock Glide Glenda!. This was the only part of the ablutionalisationing session that caused me any real pain. Even then, it was far less than usual. What’s going on today? The mind is confused; the body refuses to feel pain… I hope I’ve not died and nobody has told me? Hahaha!

Even getting the PP’s (Protection Pants) on, there were no tumbles or loss of balance that mattered?

The mini-scar where I hit my head attacking the power box in the shower three days ago is scabbing up well.

Freshened up with the Brute spray, and got the alarm wristlet back on, watch, and alert wristbands.

Ah, I thought things were going too well… well, they were! Putting the Warfarin Alert band on my wrist, it snapped and shot up, knocking of my spectacles! Luckily the frames and lens were not damaged (I hope). Not that the glasses are worth much now the Cataracts Katie, Glaucoma Gloria, and Saccades Sandra are all affecting my sight.

The Blood Pressure readings were okay. The temperature was even lower today, I tried it again later, and it was up to 24.5°c. So okay there now.

Back on the blogging, and Sister Jane rang on the landline. She was very concerned and worried… Oh, yes! She wanted to know if I’d still got the bottles of wine for her and Pete safely stored away… Hehehe!

We had a natter, but the line was terrible, made worse by our Jane having throat trouble, poor little croaker. She’s off to the doctor later; I hope she’ll be okay.

I did some more work on the blog, then decided to try the J Sainsbury site to see if they were going to deliver the Great Scot dried vegetables that Jane wanted. I’ve ordered them four times without any luck. Humph!

I tried to get through to Sainsbury’s and Ocado to see if they had any Great Scots in stock. Sainsbury’s off-line again! Ocado has removed them from the listings. Sorry, Jane!

Faded fast. Made a nosh of sorts.

Carer arrived without the laundry. She returned with it, crammed in the bag, no freshener or crystals used. Clothes not folded, and all wrinkled. Not happy with this at all.

Kip.

Inchcock Today: Tuesday 15th February 2022: Farcicalisationing again!

Vascular-Dementia-Doreen Strikes Again!

Tuesday 15th February 2022

Another slightly better night, at least once I got off to sleep. Over the past couple of weeks now, I’d been jumping awake, nervously, anything from 5-minutes to half an hour after nodding off, but I’ve always been able, once I’ve fought off the Thought-Storms, that is; to get back into the land of nod swiftly again. Last night it was getting to sleep in the first place that was the problem. I even turned on the TV cause that usually helps me fall out of consciousness. But not last night, it was ‘orrible! Once did, the waking ups started, of course, but no more often than average. Hey-Ho! I’m losing faith in the Hemp capsules already.

So, it was later than usual when I did stir back into imitation life. Not that I noticed at the time, cause the need to utilise the Porcelain Throne was soon on me. Off to the wet room, and Gawd Blimey! Another wet but willing evacuation! I got things cleaned up… and the wet room was washed and changed into day clobber, teeth, eye drops, ear drops, Germolened Little Inchies final lesion, and Germoloided Harolds Haemorrhoids. It’s a job every morning and night this is! 

Made a brew of the J Sainsbury’s Extra Strong tea; this is not bad at all, but not up to the standards of Thompsons Punjana or Glengettie. Got on the computer to start updating yesterdays blog!

A flipping hard slog with the Shaking Shaun interference… I like that word, but why?

The intercom sounded and lit up. Hello, Sainsbury are good and early this morning! 

I gave the deliveryman two boxes and a carrier bag. He filled with the delivered items for me, and he put them through the door in the hallway for me. I slipped him a choice of drinkies in thanks, and off he trudged.

I’d not seemed to get much this time? Before sorting them out, I had a look on the web to see the order. A good few items are unavailable, and I’d ticked the no substitutes on them. Very risky letting Sainsbury’s make substitutes, I can tell yer! Still, some of luxury, spoil-the-old man foods had arrived, Hehehe!

How the fresh cream French Horns got requested is beyond my imagination… me? Buying fresh cream French Horns? Ahem! With whole cream milk? Lemon cream desserts, too? I also tried some JS own label Extra Strong Teabags. (Not bad at all!) The cheesy twist pastries looked good. I’ll have them later on tonight. Worra feast in store!

A few minutes after getting fodder stored away, ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chirped up from the doorbell, and in walked Carer Cassie. She’s brought with her the monthly prescriptions. While she was putting them away, I nattered away.

During which something came up in the one-way conversation. And as we went into the main room, I said I’d make a note to remind myself to phone the Doctor…

It then dawned on me… I could not find the Nokia! I always leave it to the computer’s right, as a rule. Where the charging cable can reach the phone from the socket?

Later, I felt an Ode coming on…

That if I could not find it this morning!
When Carer Cassandra came calling…
She set off, with me, both searching…
My hopes were not worth a farthing,
Of me discovering, finding…
My beloved mobile, a precious thing…
It was most irritating and frustrating…
Irking and embarrassing!
Cassie looked in every nook was persisting…
Every room searched, drawer-jostling…
Finding it? My hopes were now fading…
Vascular Dementia Doreen, it was very degrading,
We investigated under the chairs, it was so rilling,
Cassie carried on, with no getting ruffling…
Where can it be? Then I needed a wee-weeing…
Off to the wet room, not easy peeing and thinking…
Wondering where I’d put the danged thing!

I got back to the main room – & Cassie was smiling! ♥
With eyes that were brighter and twinkling…
She pointed out where she found the phone hiding…
Yes, Cassie found it, I gave her a kiss, but I was infringing,
But she gave me no whinging; I started singing!

We both began grinning and laughing!
I was so happy, I could have wet my underclothing!
It’s lovely to find a little joy in something…
Although later, I was scathing, scything, and seething…
At getting in such a mess… things I’m constantly losing,
I’m an expert on having things go vanishing!

With my telling her of my funny turn yesterday, I was unsure if cleaner Esther had called on me or not. Cassie pointed out that she could have moved the mobile; because the computer desk looked like it had been dusted. (which means it is usually dirty? Haha!)

Oh, I’ve not said have I, where the phone was found? It was moved a few inches from its usual position, but out of sight, underneath the keyboard! I feel a greater fool than ever now!

The blooming day was nearly gone by the time I started on this post! Getting the Monday blog finished after all the time spent searching for Nokia-Nigel, meant it cost me a total of over five hours before I got it finished and posted off. Adding the fact that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete had joined with Shaking Shaun in making things nigh on impossible to type without so many errors… I should have been angry, but no… I was grateful that Cassie helped me find the mobile to use…

Then a Mega Mess! Could I  remember who I was going to call in the first place? Could I ‘eck as! Now, this is just how life is going for me at the moment…

I had the oddest thoughts and confusions. I was still grateful for Cassie finding errant mobile for me, and at the same time, felt worthless and full of self-loathing for not being able to recall who I needed to call!

There are people like lovely Lisa and Sister Jane, who I want to converse with. But no time left again! The evening carer is nearly due! And I’ve not had anything to eat yet! Ah, well, no wonder I’m not sleeping well.

I did a little Facebooking answered some comments. Then had a look at the WordPress reader. I just made the WP comments; now I shall have to give up blogging and prepare some fodder prepared… I imagine I will not be back until the morning.

Really weary now, just about done in, and the fodder had to be prepared, cause sometimes even hunger can survive the onslaught of weariness. (Ah, a touch of cleverness there, I thought?)

Bean and cheese and beef pasties, naughty cheese curls, slow-cooker destroyed potatoes by doing them for eleven hours! Tsk! Roast chestnuts and, sadly, the last of the black tomatoes. However, I did make too much of a plateful, and I was running out of eating-steam and considering abandoning the by now gruelling task of shoving any more food into my gullet, and…

♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chimed out from the doorbell. I instantly morphed into a smiling, happy, hopeful and cheerful chap; the moment that I saw it was Carer Julie coming into the room!

I asked her if she had enjoyed her holiday, as the others told me she was on. But she had been poorly, not on holiday. After giving me the medications, we had a too long chinwag and laugh. I mentioned that I had not paid her yet for posting the package to Lisa and Bill for me. And forwarded the thanks of Billum for her help. Showed her some photo’s graphics I’d done of Lisa and Bill, and she showed interest. ♥

But she really had to go; I had delayed her a long enough. I insisted she tool some treats and nibbles if only to help cover the cost of her doing the mailing for me. The last two little Natoora tomatoes from the fridge were taken. I do hope she and her partner enjoy them. ♥ Said my sad farewells to Carer Julie.

Washed, got down in the awesomely uncomfortable recliner, and prepared for the arrival of Sweet Morpheus

A mention of Sweet Morpheus, or sleep…
Sometimes he won’t let me get a peep…
This makes me tired, and I want to weep,
I’ve tried, it doesn’t work, counting sheep,
Nightly the wakings up rerepeat,
Insomnolence, can it be beaten?

Tonight, I gorrof to sleep really quickly…
Woke; pains from Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley,
I thought I’d been a kip for hours… ghastly…
I’d slept for ten minutes at most, eerie?
God of Sleep & Dreams, ignoring my sleep-deficiency?
Nodding back, and again started dreaming…
About ‘Man from Uncle’ Mr Waverley?

My shooting awakes, giving me hypertension…
Spent a while, in fretting and procrastination,
Back in the land of nod, minutes later, depression!
This time shaking from failed neurotransmissions,
Like a shot, back and deeply sleeping…
Why and how is beyond my comprehension…
Seems I’ve got a staying-asleep suppression?

Is it possible to get a sleep transfusion?
Will Sweet Morpheus be open to persuasion?
Can I bribe him or offer complete adulation?
Every time I nod off, I awake in absquatulation…
Can one invent a sleep button? Press for activation?
Or will I continue suffering mental altercation?

The Pure Hemp is bringing no sleep satisfaction…
I can see no improvement in my nocturnal hibernation,
I suppose I’ll be left with new mental disorientation,
I crave rest at times; there’s no commiseration,
I’d see the Doctor, but that’s another complication,
Hearing on the phone, she bounces back my email communication,

I see no way to make things better, somnambulatorily,
Fact is, today, I feel pretty poorly…
Awaiting the next Whoopsie…
Willing life to be hassle-free…
Asking profound questions of me…
Getting self-answers, of fiddledeedee!

Sad, innit?

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!

MedPhorpainGot 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.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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.

MedPhorpainWhich 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!