Constipation Conrad

Inchie: Tuesday 29th September 2026

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A day I’d sooner forget, but I can’t.
Where to start? I don’t want to, and I don’t have the time to, sqrawl another long-winded, boring blog, in an attempt to get caught up. I’ll cut it down, no doubt missing of a few of the calamities, axifauxpa, errors, whoopsiedangleplops & frustrations. I’m so far behind with WP Reader, comments, In, etc., and things are getting even busier. Bonkersness!
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Although the day initially…
Going steadily…
Enough for scenery snap-taking.
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Carer Ejaz arrived; no long calls cause I used them up at the Trick-Cylist appointment yesterday. That means no laundry, mail checks, email, or text checks. I’m already out of clean diabetic socks. None for three days! A lymph leak starting on the right leg.
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Damned Mobile!: While trying to get Sunday’s blog started, my concentration was crippled by no less than 8 missed calls, 8 voicemails, and, over the day, 7 whoever-it-was people trying to get the Intercom to work!
The voicemails I cannot use, or even know how to access them. Not that it matters; Carer Mirza got it once, and I could not understand or hear a word.
Then, a food order arrived, and I had to go down to let him in the foyer doors… without any shoes or socks on, thanks to the Carer, myself, & having run out of all the clean diabetic socks. I must find the time to try to get some hand-washed. (Of course, I failed)
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7 items short, 3 substituted,
bread & biscuits crushed.
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The landline burst forth with a shrill tone. It was a call from the Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic. Don’t laugh, but I have no memory of what was said. I assume it wasn’t important… Ah, I’ve got it! The lady asked me if I was taking the correct dosages. I told her the Carers deal with them; I just gulp down whatever they hand me each night. I think I got a call from Jenny on the mobile. As per usual, the reception was chronically bad. As indeed is my memory. A missed call and voicemail number three came in. No number available. If it was anyone who knows me, they would have known to use the landline, cause of the new mobile’s terrible reception, and my ability to use it is so flawed. The class went on and on for an hour or two. Then, a call and letter later, from the Prostate Cancer Research people. Asking me to join a support group, whatever it is.
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Can’t see the letters on the keyboard.
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So many other incidents, but it is now Thursday morning, and I still haven’t finished… and am abandoning this blog.
Time is my enemy; I must find time to catch up on WP Reader & comments, and forget blogging for a day or two.
So many unopened letters from medical, social, and Alzheimer’s to read, plus four unopened ones. I’m determined to get this finished ASAP and catch up on WordPress. But, then again, the nurses may call, the meals I ordered may come, the Alzheimer’s interviewer, the P.C. might call, anytime… Alzheimer’s questionnaire is due.
I’ll shurrup now.
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Inchie Today: Tuesday, 25th August 2026

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TUESDAY 25th AUGUST 2026
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06:35hrs: I stirred back into ersatz, pretend life. Wriggled and rolled a little to test out which ailments might be the most painful, in my effort to dismount the hospital bed and get my nocturnal Catheter pouch off. The outcome was rather less than expected. The new magic neck pain, the discomfort of the day Catheter tubing, and Anne Gyna were the only ones sensed. 
Colin Cramps and a few seizure aftertastes, which had been waking me up so often overnight, had dissipated altogether. Nice!
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I managed to get up, sort the pouches out, and do a safety check of the flat for taps left running and fridge/freezer doors open. Then got the kettle on. Doing these little tasks, I had to make three visits to the Porcelain Throne in 15 minutes. Constipation Conrad in total charge.
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Carer Andy arrived in a perky but reluctant mood. Medications were issued, but we could not find any codeine tablets. We both searched through the medical prescription and Over-the-counter medicine drawers. Andrew said he had informed his head office about them. I got the waste bins into one large bag. It’s still there now (2040hrs). 
Carer departed, and I had another dock-hard, Haemorrhoid-tearing visit to the Throne.
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The expected delivery from Morrisons arrived. I tell you now to get the embarrassment over quickly; Today, I made super-cock-ups with the food orders. Arithmophobia and my stupidity are what I put the blame on. Maybe Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, Inchie. I was utterly disgusted with myself. The idea of doing an order to cover three weeks seemed so clever at the time. All three came on the same day; Today! Understandably, people complain about my stupidity in doing the things I do. But I simply cannot help it; in a way, it is not me doing these and other daft & dangerous things. But I still do them. Now Morrison, then came Asda,  and finally the Iceland deliveries! It hurts, frustrates and annoys me doing them. No particular depression, just self-loathing.
I’d prefer to not mention them again, please. Thanks.
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The new Warfarin INR blood results came in the post; that was quick. New doses confirmed.
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Carer Mirza visited. Checked LV house content problem, and I called Complex Warden Deana and asked Mirza to talk with her about the lower cost of NCC insurance. Not sure what happened. Just had a seizure while writing this. Memory Mangling Malcolm? Mirza fitted a new Catheter on the right leg this time.
He then took the laundry down to the laundrette. Then he mopped the kitchen floor for me.
Then went down to put the clothes in the dryer. Did the safety checks and hoovered up. Checked the drawers to see if the missing Codeine tablets were there, but no.
Then he went down to collect the laundry.
While he was out, more food arrived, and I was having difficulty getting all the canned food on the top shelf of the double cupboard.
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At this point the self-cursing started, as Carer Mirza returned with the washing.
He cleaned up a scrape wound and put some Germolene and a plaster over it. Saved the day again. Mirza did another grand job of caring for me today.
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How did I take this photo with no camera?
Well, as soon as Mirza departed, Amazon delivered the camera. I can’t photograph it, but I’ll ask a Carer later to take one on his mobile and email it to me. Like any other childlike 81-year-old with a new toy, I decided to set up and use the new camera. As recommended by Carer Ejaz: “It would be a good idea to get the same model as before; otherwise you’ll get in a pickle with the new contraptions and workings of a different one” Very good suggestion, mate; a wise idea. Thanks!
So, after setting it up but entering the wrong date and not remembering how I set it in the first place, I gave up and got on with taking some sky-cloud shots.
Here is my first effort…
Almost square shape?
Nice views though
The trees are begging to look greener!
Caught the balconies on this one.
Then back to try and set a wider
view for the snaps.
I attempted to read the instructions…
Writing was too small
So to change, on the fly…
Aha, I cracked it… 
Can you see the animal’s head?
General Degaul in this one?
The worms?
From the kitchen window, this one
A smug mode developed.
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I mentioned that I do some acts almost like a remote control, unthinkingly, and I told the Doctor at Haywood Hospital about this trait acquired months ago.
Well, me making this a great dollop come mound; this agglomeration, hodgepodge of a gigantic meal, is a perfect example of what can happen when something in my head tells me not to bother and to press on. Worrying.
It consisted of Mushroom pâté, chicken lumps, tomatoes, carrots, garden peas, soft cheese, curly fries, pork & pickle mini pies, cheese & onion bread, cooked beef, gherkins, and potatoes!
Needless to say, I could not eat it all, and must have binned two-thirds of it. I recall eating all of the mushroom pâté, the peas & carrots, the bread and the potatoes.
Then washed the dishes, etc., and moved on to an ice
cream cornet & lemon curd dessert?
Then put the TV on early to watch the Nottingham Forest match against Leeds Utd. (Sister Jane called to remind me it was on ITV). I stayed awake up to half-time, and the adverts came on. Zzz! Waking up in a seizure a couple of hours later, still TV on and the volume louder… Sorry, neighbours. I think going into a home might help me; I’m not coping well.
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Inchie Today: Wednesday 17th June 2026 – Teriible start ot the day!

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MUST BE THE WORST DAY EVER – UP TO NOW
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LOUSY NIGHT – CRUEL MORNING
Managed a few moments of sleep, kept waking up in a right peed off mood. Just needed sleep, but the demons and evilf-fieindly bad-luck-bringing thoughts of my own concoction seemed unbeatable today.
Rising from the bed and hobbling my way to the nocturnal Catheter pouch on the floor near the recliner, my right leg gave way, and once again, as yesterday, I was fortunate enough to lean towards the chair to land semi-softly and injury-free. 
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I was still sitting in it, and trying to nod off again, as the intercom chined out its “Oh, Susana” tune. The knee gave way as soon as I stood up, and by the time I’d got to the panel to admit the Carer, it had closed down. I waited a few minutes to see if they had been admitted or would ring back, then returned to the recliner, expecting the Carer to come in. “Oh, Susana”, rang out again. This time, I got to the box a bit quicker and in time to let them in.
Carer Mizra appeared, did a body check, and creamed or gelled the areas in need. Shoulder, back and genitals. Then Mizra got the medications issued.
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I was pleased with how the new computer was working. When first opened, both external drives were accessible! But, of course, within a few minutes, they had disappeared. Back to normal, then. The hour-and-a-half Carer visit didn’t happen, the same as yesterday. 
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1) The computer, specifically CorelDraw, froze as I clicked export for the Cartoon to go to the file to use here.
2) I could not close down by the regular route. So had no choice but to turn off at the power sockets.
3) But I could not get the computer to reboot.
Nothing but trouble since paying £850 plus fitting to get this computer, and I could not find his telephone number!
But knew that Mizra had it, as he liaises for me.
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4) Carer Andrew made the short midday call. I asked him to ring Mizra and ask him to call the engineer. No reply, so I don’t know if he did.
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5) While he was here, I tried a couple of times to get the computer back on, but both attempts failed.
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6) I found the Carer lying in the hallway on his mobile.
I thought he’d gone. I asked him again to contact Mizra for me. No response.
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7) I did get the loading to go as far as the opening label screen, but this one usually comes up first… so it was not a surprise when the ‘Working Circle’ appeared and the mouse arrow showed on the screen. It stayed like this for over an hour! Demoralising!
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8) I turned everything off at the power again and lost the TV signal in doing so, and heard a series of Beeps coming from the hard drive.
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9) All off again. TV was not affected this time.
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10) This had to be my last try. I was so downhearted.
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11) Then, I got a telephone call from a something navigator, from the Doctors Surgery. She mentioned a meeting with advisers I’d been invited to via email. There was a vague memory, but nothing certain. The lady explained it was about sorting people’s needs out, and the best way to do so. I jumped at the chance. I think she said someone would be calling to arrange a meeting.
Linda, I think her name was. I mentioned my wish, if possible, to go into a home. In hopes of relieving the tensions from getting nothing sorted, with problems being added almost daily, which challenges my sanity,  health, and my ability to cope.
12) Today is a good example. The early tumbles. The computer is playing up yet again. No hot water. 4 weeks since my last shower or shopping assistance. Adding to the Banking, British Gas, Virgin Media, the new Catheter’s lack of information or instructions. No help was given with managing procedurally.
13) Do I carry on with a weekly day-bag change? Is it safe to use with a nocturnal pouch fitted?
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14) Not that I could put photos on the blog, anyway, both camers are broken!
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14) Now, my prime love/hatred, the new computer, cannot access CorelDraw or Excel. So, there are no graphics or photographs that can be used. Other than any already in the WordPress gallery.
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15) I rang the District nurses for help on how to manage the new Catheter, who told me to contact the QMC. I went on a little about the situation I am in.
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I then rang Jenny, who rang back. But I was not really with it t the time, in fact, I had a nasty seizure after making the call, mind blank. Extra confusion.
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16) I received a call back from the nurses while still a little out-of-it. I was asked if I am really interested in going into a home. I think I took this opportunity to get my thoughts out, and they will ask Matron Jackie to see if she can get the ball rolling. Brilliant. Cause things are getting worse here now. Problems increasing, solutions decreasing.
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Movements from the rear end started again today, all in Constipation Conrad mode. A bit of blood each time from the haemorrhoids. At least no accidental evacuations with Conrad.
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I’ll have to do only the Ode. Oh, it’s been such a busy, annoying day; I’ve not done it yet.

I suspect this blog holds ampullosity?
Changing moods bring ambivalency,
Spent most of the day crestfallenly,
Spent many sessions self-critically,
Problems showing no curability,
Concentration, showing a deficiency,
Hopes, needs, logic, all seem to disagree,
Depression increases, diurnally…
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Is life, like a politician, an effigy?
Not realistic, no ecclesiology?
What happened to youth’s excitability?
80, first time owing for your electricity?
Into the mist, goes you equilibrity,
No more mental or physical euphony…
I used to hope for an epiphany…
But life now proves more euphuistically,
I also dreamt of finding eudaemony…
I got this depressing ennui!
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It was once suggested by Dr Neurology,
To help me electroencephalographically,
But that was in September, 2003,
Then a stroke, TBI, and Cancer hit me,
Dr Neurolgy again saw me in 2023,
Sometimes I can think with clarity…
I hasten to add, this happens rarely,
Then my mind goes wanderingly,
Mind blanks can hit anytime, lastingly…
or for a few moments, mysteriously,
Moments too, of great falability,
Frequent occasions of mental obliquity,
With unstoppable times of neurotomy,
Hoyrly changes to me nimiety,
Dementia turned me flibbertigibbety,
Duodenal ulcer, hernia, verbal nugacity,
But can I face the nitty-gritty?
The crux of the problematic matter?
Slowly but surely going détraquée!
I’m now an ace at dontopedalogy,
Few teeth left, crinkled skin, pilgarlicky…
Had enough of life’s woes & mallarky,
Being as I don’t want to sound sarky…
To avoid moaning and negativity,
I blame it on my pfropfschizophrenie!
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Lack of control, of happenings & events,
My ever-changing consciousness,
From unawareness to utter cluelessness.
People I talk to will see/hear a difference…
No in-between, Depression or High Horace,
Decisions to be made, I’m on the fence,
Knowing danger, what’s my response?
Forget; as it dies in my memory disperses,
Involuntarily, to my memory burners,
Lack of control, of happenings & events.
Make life a struggle, that’s so intense…
Worries, problems, Catheter, fears…
Self-hatred, incapable, many mental fratches,
Solutionless, can’t batten down any hatches,
I hate my changing moods & responses,
Often say things I find erroneous,
Mostly to myself, & of course Darius,
Important dates, numbers, emails…
Texts, etc., that no one can solve,
Fade away, making me feel injudicious,
I used to think that life was so precious,
Now it’s approaching worthless,
New computer, camera, faith, & hopes,
All kaput, I feel so inefficacious,
Really, my outlook is hopeless…
I hate my changing moods & responses.
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I’m Struggling!
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 TTFN

Inchie: Sunday, 5th April 2026

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The first thing I recall on waking up was . Seconds later, I realised I was virtually shivering with cold. I knew something was wrong to feel this cold as I saw this morning’s sunshine blasting through my cotton-thin, tattered-edged curtains, their hooks missing from the balcony. I took off the nocturnal Catheter pouch, got a hold of  and went over to investigate where the cold was coming from. Taking this snap of the view… through the wide open balcony door! No wonder I was shivering, I’d left the doors open and been sleeping in the nearby aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I closed the door and found that I had somehow lost one of my night socks. I needed to get warm, and, conveniently, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. I limped into the wet room and put the heater on. Got sat on the raised plastic seat, and wallowed in the warmth from the convector heater on the wall. It took mages to get the evacuation underway, but as I was warming up, I didn’t mind it at all today. I was convinced after ten minutes of urging and pushing, the Constipation Conrad would be in control. But, no! Although the first torpedo clunked into the bowl, immediately followed of a Trotsky Terence-like performance of splattering, stinking, watery mass flowed. The torpedo was dark brown; the follow-up was orangey-light brown. It cost me half of a new toilet roll, and an awfully long time to clean things up after the event.

I tried to get back to sleep by adding an extra-heavy quilt to the other one. But Ejaz rang the intercom to get admission. We did my Health Checks with the sphygmomanometer, blood tests with the Pulse oximeter, and measured the temperature. I think they were slightly better than the previous few days, but still in the High Category. Medications provided. Teeth were tinctured. Earholes olive oiled. Then  Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was Salved. Harold’s bleeding Haemorrhoids were Germoloided, and Little Inches bleeding Fungal Lesion was anticepticated. That was the only one that tested my pain level. Arthur Itis and Cartilages Kloe and Carole were Pornapain-gelled.

The back, amazingly, did not need any medicating… that’s a first this year. Then, while I was brushing my teeth, Ejaz made me a mug of tea; he’s getting better at it lately. Supplying me with some bikkies to dunk in the mug. Going through this every day can get a bit wearying. But thanks to Jenny’s help, I have longer visits on some days, which stops my blogging, but it is of great assistance when Mizra or Ejaz does it. They know what is needed and do not ask me what I want all the time. They, I think. appreciate my neurological problems and how they affect me, memory-wise, stuttering, and loss of balance. The others even leave me to bend down. Which is a bit galling when they do that, while they are on their mobiles doing reports, I assume.

After bidding Ejaz Cheerio and Tara, I took a decent snap of the view from the kitchenette window. Then had to pay another visit to the . This was almost a copy of the first effort of the day. More time lost. Glad that I’m well stocked up with toilet paper! For a treat, I’m using an Andrex roll between each of the terribly thin, cheap rolls.
I’d like to work out what’s happening with these dual activations of both Trotsky Terence and Conrad Consitpation-like evacuation on the same visit?

I hoovered the hallway and kitchen. Well, it’s not a Hoover, is it?
It is an Akitas cheapo version from Amazon. I can’t be accused of being high-class, educated, or a snob. Hehe!
Common as muck would be the best epitaph for me. When they bury my ashes or whatever they do, I’d like a plaque on the wall or put in the press. Perhaps something along the lines of:
“He came, He failed, and he went” Haha!

I think I saw some rain falling as I took this shot through the balcony windows. The door chime chimed, and in came Carer Ejaz, on his midday call. We checked the second Health Check figures were recorded correctly on the Excel log, and I was in so little pain, just took two Paracetamol. Good that!,
As Ejaz was getting ready for Porpain-Gelling Shaking- Shoulder-Shirley, he noticed that I must have been scratching away at the still showing scars on my lower left arm.
He put some Cetreben cream on it. Advising me not to scratch at them again, or they will never clear up or disappear.

Google’s opening was still hit-or-miss. I just kept trying a different icon for the same action until one worked. A different one responded to being pressed each time. WordPress was not so jerky today, well, at 02:45hrs, anyway.
This keyboard is getting harder and harder to see with its tiny letters on the keys, and faded off-white ones at that. I’m hoping for the best when the man calls to check the computer out, I think on Tuesday or Wednesday. Mizra made the arrangements for me when we went shopping on Saturday. I loved that, getting out to an actual shop and seeing what I was buying beforehand. I hope not to buy food online anymore. With all the mistakes I keep making, getting help shopping is invaluable now. I hope it continues weekly, please! Hehehe!

Cor blimey, the sun had dipped!
Then the rain came again.

Inchy Today: Monday 21st July 2025

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I thought of escaping, for adventure, with other activists,
I say activist, it’s a Carer, to be honest…
To my tree copse, too far to get to the forest,
With Lymphorrhea, seizures & my wounded wrist,
The trip had to be cancelled: it’ll be sorely missed,
The nurse hasn’t arrived yet to examine my neurolysis,
If she does come, she just might get a kiss…
Matron may call, look at my eczema & mucinosis,
Must get to the bank, or I’ll be penniless.
I had a minute today, pondering Starmers’ fakiness,
His intractable recalcitrances & profligacies,
His lies, his greed and his perfidies,
His transgressions, wrongdoings and peccancies,
His cabinet has far too many numbnutses,
Keirs’ deviations from truth, mendacity & aberrances,
Why has he not aroused more hatred & abhorrences?
He has certainly lit up my venomousness!,
Starmer’s antics take over the Ode again. I’m remiss!
Lack of rain, the poor agriculturalists,
Ah, the door chime chimed; mayhap one of the nurses?
Nope, it’s a Carer to give me my medications,
Old ailments are back again, there’s Earache Erasmus,
Colin Cramps and Paradoxical Dylan Dyskinesias,
The seizures? Still waiting to see etiologists.
To know why I contracted Merit’s Ménière’s Disease,
Possibly connected with Loss Of Balance, Belinda, perhaps?
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Although, yet again, DDDD-Darius is back. With me now. The Horis visits were the best times of the morning, day, week, & Month! I may try to smile a little; Carer Ejaz has the camera.
I did my best!

Snaps of the day!

Darkest urine for a while.

Early to rise today, 04:10hrs. 
Straight on with the
Reversal in the ARGH!

Washed, shaved, Porcelain Thrones.
Then made a brew of Glengettie tea.

This is when the seizures kicked off.
All short ones, but so many of them. Although I thought I’d fallen asleep at one time while doing the blog, I could have been having a prolonged seizure. I’m not sure. If so, it was one of the longest ones I’ve ever had. Well over five hours. I couldn’t have been asleep that long… could I? I can recall the Carers coming, Ejaz and then Mizra. I’m sure something happened to cheer me up. Because Hih Mode Horis was with me for hours. 
I’m confusing myself as I read the few scribbled notes on the memory pad. And despite being on the computer for hours, so little had been done when I came around from one of the later short seizures and was suffering confusion and loss of balance again; I realised that, upon waking up or possibly coming round from the long sleep or seizure, I felt fine.

The bafflement got some new energy when I realised none of the three medical calls on the calendar had been to see me. I soon realised that I had most likely scheduled them for the wrong day. Humph!
Then fretted over which day they were for. I’ll be in a pickle if they are all for Wednesday!
I’m sure they must be for Tuesday, tomorrow.
Just had a quick prayer there!
I’ve a caller on the calendar for Wednesday evening between 5:30 and 6:30 p.m.
I just hope the Dentist gets the teeth done in time.
I semi-panicked a bit then. I double-checked the calendar, and the appointment is for 14:40 hours; I thought it was 15:40. (I’m waffling on well here, Haha.) They might schedule an appointment for later to have the teeth removed and set up the necessary procedure to have dentures supplied.

I just had a short-lived seizure. A minute, maybe. I felt myself going. I had to wait for fifteen minutes to clear my head before writing this, and it’s still not right, and Glaucom Gladys is getting foggy, and it’s a rare event… I’ve got a cracking headache now.
Going to take a Codeine. Dizzy Dennis and Lost-Balance Belinda want to play.

Cooking-Mode-Engaged!
Sarnies made with soft Farmhouse sliced bread.
No butter-butter, loaded with Brunswick ham. On the dish: Two reheated potatoes, and beer-battered chips done in the oven. Tasty Isle of Weight tomatoes, red & yellow, and the last of the fresh podded peas. With one Farmhouse sausage. A pot of vegan lemon dessert. I ate all of it, as well! Nice!
It took me a while to get through it.

Went to wash the pots, and the flaming weird headache returned, accompanied by the first visit of the day from an angry .
Sleep, as tired as I felt, was not an option when I settled to watch TV before moving to bed.
Usually, most times, I fall asleep at the first set of adverts. The arrival of ailment number twenty-four  made things worse. I do realise that is, in fact, my own ‘out-of-order’, ‘awaiting-repairs’ brain; that was tormenting me with reminders of past mistakes and bad decisions taken throughout my life. Bringing on
shame, embarrassment, guilt, humility & ignominy.
He entrenched himself, and tenaciously tormented and tested my limit of coping. Struggling with this, I decided to get up and take my mind off and his angst.

I went to check the kitchen to make sure I hadn’t left the faucets/taps running, the stove or microwave on, and the fridge door securely closed.
The view was worthy of my taking a Kodak-Tim-2 camera shot. So, I did.
The mist still lingered. It’s been hanging around for the last three days and nights now.
As I turned away from the window, I found a 5-litre, large glass jar of pickling vinegar on the floor. As I against it.

It had to be the right foot one. Which is the most painful one, didn’t it?
. Naturally!

I got back into the main junk-room, turned of the TV, and with hope and a prayer in my heart, that Steve and Anne Gyna would allow me to get some sleep.
Only affected my sleep, repeatedly. Anne Gyna & Steve eased off enough to find Sweet-Morpheus. Each time Nicolas jerked me awake, I was soon back into the land of nod. Which helped me oversleep again!

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🍷  May Good Fortune Shower on You! 🍷
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Inchy Today: Friday 11th July 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments


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A new medication, called Ziprasidone,
Increased moments of feeling woebegone,
Still, I had a bad start… being born,
I get reckless, careless, and wanton,
As Deep-Dark-Depression-Darius comes on,
High-Mood-Horis cheers, but never stays long,
When he’s with me, I often sing a song!
I’m now far less bucktoothed…
Nine teeth left, so many have rotted,
Starmer’s downfall needs to be plotted,
His sneering attitude is as I expected…
Surely his dishonesty & lies were suspected?
He was, after all, a barrister…
Making him the cleverest liar,
Don’t expect anything from Starmer,
The Labour Party’s principal annihilator,
Keeps saying his Father was a toolmaker,
Inspiring cartoonists & every joke-maker!

A bad night again; again, shooting awake repeatedly.
After a few hours of this, I nodded off again and slept late, for me, anyway, 07:00hrs.

Took off the night bag and made my way to the Porcelain Throne. Huh! Reversal in evacuation style from yesterday. Troskty Terence was back in the lead. No doubt to be closely followed by Constipation Konrad in this afternoon’s visit, or on Saturday morning’s session. That will be interesting. Hahaha!

Carer Ejaz arrived and checked the legs and body; medications were then issued. He was soon gone, off to get the bus.

A lightning-fast wash; why, I nearly got wet. Hehe!
My sense of humour seems to be making a comeback as I type this? (17:10hrs!)

I took a snap of the new day catheter pouch on my leg. I’ve kept it clean. Well, the muslin bag needed a bit of a jiggle to make it comfortable… but that’s my fault. I weakened, responded to the itching on the top strap, with some stern scratching of it. That’s not in the picture,  in case any haemophobes see it. Hehe! I noticed that the legs and feet looked a little red this morning. It’s possible that I set the camera to the wrong setting. (I found that I had, later)

I was concentrating on blogging when a mini-seizure struck, leaving me unable to continue for about an hour. Getting regular now! Must tell the Doctor.

The moment I realised it was a food delivery driver over the intercom, I fell into a deep depression. Why? I’ll tell yer all about my second gig shopping cock-up of the week! This one was expected next week, as well as Tuesdays that were expected next Thursday. At least I think that’s right. I was boiling mad at myself! Swore, sulked, cursed a bit more, and considered popping on the balcony and opening a window… Never-mind.
This has brought me to such a low point; I must seek some form of help. I’ll inform the Doctor and the Neurosurgeon at the hospital at our November appointment. How I prayed that would visit. But he didn’t. Not until nearly midnight anyway. That was not good timing; his arrival was grand for a few seconds, then the self-hate routine, caused by my stupid mistake, kicked in, and  he departed. Sleep was unattainable, but I’m going out of sync again. Why am I not in the least surprised?

Crikey, look at all the bags!
I literally had to throw some away to make room for the new food that was incoming.
Cheesy Topped cobs again! No room in the freezer!
Emptying a carrier with more crisps and biscuits in it, I found this article, which, for an unknown reason, I thought I was buying toilet cleaner stickers.
Obviously, judging by the ingredients, which were too small to read (I put the name in Google to find them), they were children’s sweets!
I can’t take much more, I’m losing it big time.

Bottles due…
They were left outside the door.

I meant to put Horis’ rating as 0.05%

My feet were a bit red again. It doesn’t show in the photograph, but the contents of the catheter bag seemed to glow with a luminescent light.

0825hrs: I was just about to serve the meal when Carer Ejaz arrived. I popped it back in the still-warm oven, and Ejaz dished out the medications. 

After he’d gone, I served up and started eating the meal, while watching a recorded Heartbeat episode.
¾ of the way through the meal, I realised I’d not photographed it. So, I did.
And I soon demolished the remaining fodder in the dish. Very tasty, I think that showed his appreciation. Because he came over to me for at least five minutes of joy, or his percentage attendance for the day would look even worse.
Today was so depressing overall. and made the day a misery. I bet you find endless errors in this blog. At one stage, my typing errors outnumbered those I got right. Grammarly was working overtime today. However, made it so difficult for me to make the right choices amongst the options it offered. My awareness and grasp of logicality were all to cock!
Really, my worst day for months, and the day went so slowly as well. It often felt like mental torture. I appreciate that this sounds strange, but at least I made it through it. If I have another day like today… Well, let’s hope I don’t.
Typing this on Saturday morning, things, words, are still vague to ascertain. Mistakes galore… But not as bad as yesterday. But not right, not like it usually is… I’m waffling again, Tsk! Sometimes I accept being glaikit, well, the label does fit? Fit? Are seizures linked to this?

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BONUS ODE
This morning, I feel a little less confusion,
I’m almost capable of cerebration!
Here’s to a better day for memory retention,
And the absence of Darius’ Deep Depression,
A riddance to Conrad Constipation,
My next passing is not like tungsten,
Hopes for a better concentration,
I’ve already paid for my cremation…
I’m ready now for my transubstantiation,
Mind & body gone through trucidation,
Waiting for surgery, a trephination,
But without any signs of trepidation…

This Ode takes a deflection,
Worried about the state of the Nation,
Starmer and his demagoguism,
His lies and his indoctrination,
His Labour principles’ evisceration,
His hostage is a sausage interpretation.
Birthed from a toolmaker’s insemination,
No condemnation… just a little imprecation,
I’m working on brewing up a new execration…
To stifle the evil of the leader of our Nation!

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🤎 SALUTATIONS! 🤎
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Inchy’s Ode: Sunday 8th June 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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When I was ten, I was accused of debauchery,
I asked Dad if that meant moral decay or indecency,
He replied; Well, more decadency & depravity,
None of these words meant owt to me,
Get that wood chopped; we need to make money,
Or the whole family will end up eleemosynary!
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Of course, romance played a big part in my life,
Not that I ever got around to a wife…
Plans in that area left all skewwhiff,
What wiv me being under-tackled & a dwarf,
Romance? I wetted many a handkerchief,
At 14, passions & urges beginneth,
Old age? Satisfactions no longer cometh,
The only urge is to live until your hundredth!
Of course, I’m talking in Double-Dutch!
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Vit B12 shortage, problems, aneurysmatic
I’m not bothered, I’m almost apathetic,
But I’m keeping up being altruistic,
Joanne has a trapped nerve; doctors call it a tick?
Her Catheter problems, too, are autonomic,
Starmer rants on, being absolutistic,
Existing life gets more threnetic,
His action get evert more anapodeictic,
The UK is like Atlantis or the Titanic,
As Keir takes backhander, sipping gin & tonic,
Seeking self-wealth, to be aristocratic,
His lies leave a taste, foully aromatic,
Leaders, bring the end of all things telluric,
The chance of surviving? Microscopic, or telescopic!
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A rush job from here on, I’m afraid. Please forgive any mistakes, errors, or logical inconsistencies. Things missed off, anything out of sync. In fact, any Whoopsiedangleplopperies. I thank you.
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Pretty pink this morning, Haha!

Carer took this snap after an earlier tumble.
Don’t think I’ve used it before.

AGAIN! Concrete comes to mind.

My ankles looking better this morning.

Morning view.
This one was taken higher up.

Carer Rozma called. Meds, she checked my strong, muscular, young, driving-women-mad body.
Alright, alright, I was only joking. Hehehe!
Treat the back, & toes. I’ve acquired new pains under the same two toes on each foot. She said no marks or discolourations were showing. I suppose it might be the rheumatism spreading?

The bottom field looked attractive. Now, they have moved the empty bottles, carrier bags, birth-prevention rubbers, food and used needles away.
Although they do not show in this photo, the gorgeous spring flowers are blooming. Buttercups, daisies, crocus, I think I recognised in the zoomed-in shot on the camera that I took of them. Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court is the presence of hobgoblins, spectres, gnomes, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubi, extraterrestrials, ectoplasm, and spirits. Or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, and logicality were already on the wane. Accompanied by Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, FND, Dark, Deep, Depressing Duncan, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, various types of seizures, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie and Fata Morganas.

Along with murdering Starmer in power. Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, abilities fading and reducing, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes. Plus, the arrival of a new hopelessness & despair never known before.
Just thought that I’d mention it. The Doctor might read this. Not that anything will change, but rather more a nudge to pinpoint guilt and beg for help.

The afternoon events reminiscences are sketchy. A long blank in the notes on the pad. Seizures, I assume, along with my confused state of mind. 
It’s better than no mind… or is it?

What few notes I found for the evening were largely unreadable, apart from a few odd words. They are scrawled yet bold. Was I angry at myself for something? Of no use, but I’ll copy those I could decipher, for you and me to imagine what I was writing: ‘_onrad off again.’ ‘needs correcting.’ ‘come it.’, and ‘_ r _ing’, ‘far t_ _ welcome’.

Late evening views.
Can you see the ghost or the rabbit?

Carers Rozma, Manpreet & Mizra today.
I’m almost sure it was.

So tired and confused. This came on earlier than usual. Boy, did I need, want sleep! Had to wait for the last Carer, so dared not sit down to fall asleep yet; I’d not hear the intercom when the Carer rang it to let them in. Once she came, did me, and left, I made some food. I had the last of the gorgeous but tooth-damaging Hunter sausages. And took extra care not to burn the potatoes.

Well, I did, but not a lot, as you can see.

A final photo.
I was surprised at how light it came out.
Have I used the wrong one again? Tsk!

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LIFE IN CELL 72 – It’ll have to do, HEHE!

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Inchy Today: Wednesday 21st May 2025

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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I’m aware that my rhymes, each & all,
Make me a Poetaster, if not a McGonagall,
My brain works, But I struggle to recall,
Events a minute ago, not recoverable,
But not things archaic, retrogressional,
1950, my chips were stolen by a seagull!
1953, getting thrown into Nottingham Canal,
The longer the memory, the more salvageable,
My humour can be dry and satirical…
Not skilful, clever, spiteful or sinful,
Aiming to make them laughable,
Lately, I’ve been naughtily overcritical,
Aimed at a man without principle…
You may agree that he’s objectionable,
Backhander-taking, greedy Starmer…
Who lied to get to be our Prime Minister,
His actions have been nothing but sinister,
His ministers say nothing, each a yeasayer,
Each one is a goffer, a doormat, a kowtower,
Even Labour voters begin to wither…
But why should I bother?
Humankind is doomed, whensoever, whatsoever,
I’ve been a Starmer-hating vilifier,
Hating him became obsessional,
Keir does his best, but he’s not professional,
Refuses to go to the confessional,
His promises, pledges, reversible,
Too clever to be pigeonholeable,
No accusations, prosecutions, I feel…
Existence will turn omnicorporeal,
A Labour government that’s oligarchal,
Common sense, compassion, gone occidental,
My Keir-bashing odes were not nonsensical
But my hopes for him are untenable…
And I thought he was so guillotineable!.
But, no, it was me being gullible!
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I anticipated today might be busy and Carer Joe would not be calling; he’s on holiday. But I did get help from Carer Ejaz, who made all the calls today.
The morning, spent struggling with the computer playing up, a few seizures, with Anne Gyna visiting on and off, was a good start because the depression didn’t get a look-in. Come midday, it got a bit busier. So much so that notes were not taken. I got confused with so much going on, but I seemed to take it all relatively unbothered. I accepted the pandemonium because I could do nothing to slow down or cope with them. This is true; It is now 23:15hrs. And I’ve only just ten minutes ago, made a start on this blog. I did get yesterday’s updated, and posted earlier in the day, though. Chalk and cheese.
At least we—Carer Ejaz and me—got some photos taken. I think I’ve got them in order… or close to. A late problem with CorelDraw cost me an extra hour, and the Ode writing was not as easy as usual. Concentration tiredness time came as using the dual late afternoon. The new Blood count & oxygen machine was used. I think I was using it right, but I may not have been. It kept flashing low on every occasion that I used it this week. A shame that the DVT Warfarin INR Nurse Hristina did not call. She could have guided me.

I’ll try to recall the unwritten things on the pad. Early morning is well documented, so I can bore you first. Hahaha!

Morning view from the kitchen.

Got the laundry bag filled and ready for Ejaz.

First visit to the wet room.

Made up the waste bags to go to the chute.
I burnt an oven tray last night and tried to salvage it, but it was impossible. I’ll have to stop burning my food. Twice yesterday! Tsk!

Had a brew of Co-op 99 tea and enjoyed it. Took the mug to wash… Found I’d left the hot water tap running and the freezer door open, and water (melting food) had spilt out onto the floor…

2nd visit. Messy again!

Salvation arrived in the form of Carer Ejaz. His first task was cleaning the kitchen floor for me. Bless him.
Then he took the laundry bag and put it into the washer for me.

While he was down there, I could not go in the kitchen until the floor dried, so instead of fetching an ice cream cone—it would probably have been too soft anyway—I raided my pot of cashew and pistachio nuts. A bad decision, that! 
I broke yet another tooth.

When Ejaz got back up and started hoovering, I showed him the half-tooth. He took a photo of my short-on-teeth mush for me.
Hehehe!

Then, two people from the Care Company arrived. They left a swipe fob and got me to sign an agreement to fit it. I think monitoring to ensure the carers don’t stay too long is the angle. They have to swipe in and out—a Carer tracker of sorts.

Ejaz went down to put the laundry in the dryer. We still have only one. Someone told Ejaz it should be repaired within three weeks.
The lad then had a go at the oven for me.

I took my meal of the day from the not-freezing freezer. I’ll have it soon; I’m feeling peckish.

On Ejaz’s next call, he took off my diabetic socks for me and rubbed some barrier cream on the ankles and legs. They looked better than yesterday, but the new growths climbing up the right leg were more painful when he took the sock off—tender, I think the word is—more than sore.

I worked on the Ode for a long time. The seizures had eased of a lot but   had returned. She’s still with me five hours later as I type this. But I’ll not complain; she’s been a lot worse; I can cope with moving stabs, which were less sharp than they usually are. But they stayed longer.

When Ejaz arrived, I was making the microwave meal and a pot of instant potatoes with added Leicester cheese. Time-wise, I’d lost the plot. 
I got it served up so Ejaz could put the nocturnal pouch on, as I’ll not be moving anywhere now. Just grafting away on this blog. (20:15hrs)
I’ll be trying these again from Iceland.
Tasty! On a Special offer at two for £4, too!
I sat with a drawer open, put the tray in it, and ate it while watching Heartbeat on the TV.
Which didn’t work out well cause I was also still working again on the blog’s Ode!

ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Primo Ballerina, & Warden Deana popped in as passing to see how things are going. Naturally, she hadn’t time for me to explain how things were going. Hehe!

The weariness and tiredness hit me more late than usual, but I still had much to do. I pressed on because I wanted to see the WP Reader and view and answer any WordPress comments.

Well, it’s early morning now.
Sleep sounds good to me. Hehehe!

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Cheerio, Mon Amis!
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Inchy Today: Saturday 17th May 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

MORE A REMINDER THAN CARTOON
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STOP…
Stop, but don’t do nothing…
Think: Is humankind worth saving?
Who will do the adjudicating?
Whom can we trust for officiating?
Who will reveal the declaring?
Will we decide by voting?
The leaders we’ve been electing…
Oligarchs, criminals, always lying…
I find them greedy & mind-boggling,
He seems to enjoy pensioners dying?
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When we bravely request a financial bequest,
We get a failed promise, a behest at best,
Do we vote for the least bloodthirstiest,
We settle for the best of the baddest,
We get Starmer, virtually, Labour’s baddest,
A right-winger, not a Socialist!
A taking backhanders specialist,
Who looks after his own spondulicks,
As lying PMs go, he’s the stealthiest,
Maybe he appeals to schizophrenics.
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Compassion? He hasn’t got the remotest,
Wars, hostages? He’s not worth a sausage,
He’s got his nuclear shelter radiologist,
Is earth worth saving in retrospect,
To be honest, I’ve not got the remotest,
Did you hear of the upcoming protest?
Calls for a national strike from communists,
If it’s all peaceful, I won’t object,
I liked Boris, although the slaphappiest,
Starmer? The Unsincerest!
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Can you believe Keir’s not even prosecutable?
He’s even not at all arrestable!
No chance of him being imprisonable,
He’s sacrosanct; after lying to get electable,
Takes backhanders; what a spectacle…
Clothes, cinema, tickets for Arsenal,
He’s made himself impregnable…
Other MPs’ crimes make them blackmailable,
Yet his crimes are irrefutable!
His greed & dishonesty are kenspeckle!
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A minimal in the extreme blog today

LAST NIGHT….
Early yesterday evening, to add to the crazy seizure and Ann Gyna popping into the equation, I got the same as I did last Saturday night.
A deep tiredness, depression and, most annoyingly at the time, kicked off for the first time since last Saturday. I nodded off to sleep in the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner, even with and both giving me attention and waking me up every so often, I soon got back into bliss.
Carer Joe woke me up. 
I was so wee’d-off. I couldn’t help it.
Within minutes of his departure, I nodded off again.
Mysteriously, but it suited me; never twitched again. And eased off tremendously. And I fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of the old days. Two hours later, Carer Ejaz woke me. 
I WAILED WITH FRUSTRATION.
Poor Ejaz thought I was getting at him. It’s hard to explain how things can be with my conditions, and I felt guilty about the misunderstanding.
Once Ejaz departed, I felt tired and could not get back to sleep. I tried the usual: I put the TV on. Even that failed. After another fruitless hour of trying my best, I finished yesterday’s blog and started this one. 
Around 04:30hrs, I felt I could get some sleep. But needed to utilise the . 
As I got up, the pain from the catheter tube in Little Inchy, now leaning to the left, was agony!

I hobbled to the wet room and got myself seated. The nasal juices flowed, and it took me ages to painfully encourage the controlled evacuation to begin. A little bleeding from . I emptied the pouch into a jug for the Carer to evaluate. Then, I tackled moving the tubing and straps on the catheter in the vain hope of easing the pain. I decided to get the done, being as I was up.
Shaved first. It is not usually recommended when I feel so tired. But, foolishly, I carried on. I amassed four nicks and foolishly . 
Wish I’d taken Kodak Tim 2 with me now. The sink reminded me of, erm… Psycho, I think. Haha!

Orifices scrubbed up and dried.


All the usual. Eye drops & sprays Little Inchies Lesion, 
Another failed go at getting the catheter contraption tube & straps less painful. 
Barrier creamed where I could reach.

I was back on the computer, fell asleep, and crumpled to the floor, landing on my left knee—now the tube and straps are even more painful.
Clamboured up using the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. And thought I’d stay there and get some sleep at long, long last.

That lasted a minute or so, and the landline telephone chirped up. All I could hear was some music? No idea who it was.

Carer Ejaz came in. Well, after I’d unlocked the door, I forgot to do it with the ablutions and Meds performance. A good-looking lad, he was getting some medications out of the prescription drawer in the kitchen.

I’m so tired out. Continues her milder attackd. She’s getting around a bit today. I’m unsure what happened in detail, but the worn-outness and fatigue returned just like last weekend? 
Why only at weekends?
Fell asleep, Carer woke me up.
Put TV on to watch the highlight of the day.
Fantastic Result!
A WARM SMUGNESS FELT!
My hatred of Manchester City is only beaten by my Hatred of Chelsea. Naturally, my loathing of Herr Keir ‘Pensioner-Killer’ Starmer outdoes them both.
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I then proceeded to fall asleep again.
Woken by the Carer. Mizra. Who, I recall, barrier-creamed both ankles. Painkillers were given to counter the almost persistent and graded the urine for me.

I then did some work catching up on this blog.
Before getting the meal, I prepared it earlier and put it in the fridge.
Delicious!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 15th May 2025

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OLD STARMER FUN CARTOON
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I thought I’d discovered a way of saving the photographs without CorelDraw cutting me off. I had to use the old CorelDraw; the new version, which cost nearly £400, is not letting me export or save. 
After 6 hours of importing photos one at a time and saving them individually, I found out that CorelDraw would not let me save anything in the old version! It kept either freezing or closing down on its own accord. I had to keep stopping for Ejaz’s call. Ejaz got the bags for me in the kitchen when the food delivery arrived. Issued the medications, put the diabetic socks on for me, and Barrier creamed the bleeding thigh. Then, it took me a long time to put the fodder away. A good job that I was up earlyish, and got the ablutions and torso-medicationings done. Eyes, ears, toothache tincture and shaved without a single cut! Smug-Mode-Utilised.
Back to the computer. It closed down on me twice and froze on me three times. By the time I’d got the photos from yesterday in the WP gallery, with interruptions, I’d been at it for eight hours! 
After all that effort, I hope I can get them off the gallery to go in without any more cock-ups! Ah, well, here I go… Oh, dear, the second Carer call is due anytime now. I’ll see how it goes. Wish me luck?
No, don’t waste your breath. Haha!

Just some of the clothing that no longer fits me. Taken in mid-clear-up.
This rack was chocker-block full. At least Joe saved some for me after checking if they should fit onto my chunky, whacking great, super-duper-sized, walloping, cyclopean, elephantine body. Not many!
The rail racking had even less that would fit!
Two 60-litre waste bags full of unfitting clothing were packed and ready to be picked up by Carer Joe later. Joe made a funny quip after we stopped to get the laundry sorted out. I think I said about the drier?
“When Gerry looked after, in despair…
His clothes racks were bare!”
Hehehe!

I had three messages, well, phone calls that I’d had; One from the medics, One that I couldn’t decipher, one that I couldn’t hear from the Doctor’s surgery. This one said, “You’ve contacted the Doctor to ask for a home visit, didn’t you?” I vaguely remember Carer Joe calling them to get an appointment. He may have asked if a home visit was available. I asked him to ring back later. Carer Jazz came, not Joe, so the confusion may have developed because Ejaz didn’t ask. Then, I later got a call from the matron, but I couldn’t recall what it was about.
Ejaz said I have to call Matron Jackie. That’s all on the note he left. 

Back to the plot, I got a bit off-kilter there. Sorry.

Oh, I nearly forgot to put the meal photos on.
Roasted some potatoes in the oven.
Mixed then in the ready meal.
Got them into the oven.
Just out of the microwave.
A darned decent tasty flavour!
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I stirred back into the offendedness of life’s miserable existence. I was worried. About the CorelDraw farce, the computer blue screen of death comes up. The bank balance received by text has never been lower since 1980!
I’m confused by all the medical messages I’m getting and blown away by how many helpers suddenly come in. It baffles me when someone mentions something from a few days ago, and I cannot determine its concerns. I vaguely get partial memories come back, but they make things worse and worry me all the more. I’m waffling again, aren’t I? I’m well-versed and pretty good at that!

I was in the wet room by about 05:15hrs. 
As I stripped off, I realised I had only had one mini-seizure in an hour, and more importantly, I was not in any depression! Yet with all the extra bothers, confusion and misleading medical mayhem, I had good reason to be feeling down – but I wasn’t!
Only the other day, when I had a mother of Deep , I couldn’t think why.
The opposite happened this morning. I thI’veI’ve worked out why. It is when the reasons for a depression weigh heavily on me I can go into a sort of, well, ‘Sod-it, I can’t win!’ mode. Sometimes, how I feel now is the reason. Or maybe not.

I tried the tricks explained earlier to get CorelDraw to permit me to save and store things. I lost hours and hours as CorelDraw froze or crashed repeatedly. No, I’ve written that already, I think.
The shaving was back near to normal this morning. Three nicks, a dropped razor, and the aftershave Brut bottle. There were no other injuries, though. Unless you count when on leaving the wet room, I shoulder-charged the edge of the doorframe. Although that didn’t actually hurt much, it started off that did hurt a bit. She’ll have my shoulder socket ball out one of these flipping days! Hehe!
The only thing that bothered me was that    had returned. I won’t complain; she has given me several days of rest. I’ve missed her roaming stabbing pains. Secretly, whenever she attacks, I try to guess where she’ll hit me next time. Areas so far that have felt her wrath: Neck, jaw, shoulders, arms, back, or, even occasionally, the upper abdomen. That’s her favourite attack route for me. Her abdominal playground is under one arm and around the other. She rarely gets me there. (Just watch how things go now that I’ve just said that!)

Ah, much better!

The part-mystery of this note has been solved.
The surgery receptionist called me on the mobile, so it was not easy to hear her, but she was patient with her patients. Hehe! She made the appointment for my yearly Health Check (shown earlier), but I am not concentrating well today. Nothing new there, then. For Thurs, May 29th, a home visit! Great!

Had an early meal tonight. Salad.
A sliced baked potato and tomato (Dutch), caramelised beetroot, and red onions (tasty!). With some Milk Roll sliced bread slathered with the gorgeously tasty No Butter, Butter (by Flora). The only let-down was the so-called Mature Cheddar cheese. I’ve tasted tastier newspapers! But all the rest of the dish made was up for this, somewhat.
As a warning to any UK mild, insipid cheese-lovers, it was Cathedral City Mature. If you happen to like tasteless, weak, bland, pale, uncrumbly, rubbery cheddar, this is the brand for you!

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CHEERS MIDDEARS!
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