CorelDraw Problems

Inchie Today: Mon/Tue 19/20th October 2026

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MONDAY 19th OCTOBER 2026
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I was in the midst of my last horrible dream; I was trying to jump from a wooden string-roped bridge into the water below. Not worried about going over at all. But the odd things that kept interrupting and kept me from diving in were endless. Some I recalled the moment that Carer Andrew came in and switched the light on. I tried to stay with the dream, and I don’t think I responded to the lad very well. Well, you wouldn’t when a pink gorilla came from the trees and shouted that he is an Alziemers councillor, and started towards me on the rickety tied-on wooden planks, shaking the bridge all over, and this made me change my mind, and I decided not to jump after all.
I think, well, I’m almost sure that earlier an alien alighted from a dome-topped mini spaceship, laughed at me, calling me a whimp, and tasered me. Climbed back into his tiny ship, turned, put two fingers up, and said, in a squeaky voice, ‘Cheers, Dumbo!’) 
Vague, broken memories of other dreams lingered for a while, and then I realised Andrew had arrived when the light made me jump and forced me into a semi-responsive state. I greeted him, and he didn’t look happy. Why? I wondered if I’d been doing the somniloquy stuff again when he came in. Last week, when Inram did a teatime call, and I’d fallen asleep in the computer chair. He laughed so much when he woke me. He told me that I was talking unintelligible gobbledygook and was using a fair bit of bad language, but laughing as I did so. Of course I didn’t know if I was somniloquying this morning, but I might have been. Young Andrew did not seem too impressed with things. Haha!
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Another horrible day!
British Gas called me; I found out why: Jenny, my Angel, had contacted them. The bloody mobile phone of mine. I so hate it. It doesn’t ring when anyone calls, and I can’t hear voice messages. BG showed 8 missed calls (which grew to 19). And 11 missed calls. Ejaz contacted them, and I had to give my email, name and address. While doing so, the bloody mobile disconnected. TWICE!
Ejaz spoke with them; they said they would have to get back to me in a few days to prove who I was… WHAT?
I began to be frustrated and mega depressed, and didn’t feel very good.
I tried to get some of this blog done, but then the Catheter started flowing back- the pain! So I took a Codeine and Morphine.
Agony, but to make things worse, I then took a mild tumble. Not feeling up to much.
I’ll have to stop here, sorry.
I was already worried about the visit to the Audio Clinic, and getting things sorted as far as I could, but felt even more out-of-it. Then the BG farce, and bloody mobile. At one point, I was on the bloody mobile, and the landline and the intercom rang at the same time. I reckon that helped me take the fall. The sodding intercom wasn’t working again; I had to go down three times to see who it was, and each time no one was there at the foyer door. Now I know I won’t have time to catch up on this blog, a chance I may have to go to A&E with the Catheter problem… the Carer to be asked to help me get dressed. Will the Catheter… Enough!
Might get this a little caught up tomorrow…
Ha! Just remembered I changed the delivery time for the food to between 21 & 22:00hrs, so sleep will be a more urgent need than whatever it was I was going to write, but I’ve forgotten it now. If my bladder backs up, I might ring the District Nurses? I’m fed up. A near-noon photograph from the kitchenette window. Very few photos taken today; I’m afraid they’re scarce, indeed negligible. However, that is due to cock-ups and failures on my behalf, but the main culprit was, without a doubt;
British Gas: oligarchs with the worst complaint record of any of the 20 active domestic energy suppliers supplying the UK! So many indecisive, detail-seeking, and rejecting phone calls made and received today.
There was no time to even start this blog!
In fact, and I’m not joking, it is now nearly midday on Wednesday 21st October, when I started this blog!
To make things worse, it took more time and was, frustratingly, mentally crippling, as Tuesday was as bad as Monday was for time and dwindling finances! I had no time to get any blog done, and with so much short, pathetic sleep, my body forced me to get some on Tuesday. When I was sitting at the computer, I couldn’t get myself mentally together to try to make a start… I did scribble a few notes, forgot to take the camera with me; I was so…
But I’ll get to that later. (I hope)
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British Gas
Here to Solve!
The lying Oligarch, communicatively confusing, 
sourpuss, and AI, off-putting, rigmarole-ridden, sending us around the houses just to reach a human, although I question that at times, awkward, two-faced, off-putting, disconnecting our calls. They give us numbers, direct us to another company that, judging by their pissed-off voices, tells us to keep telling people to ring us, and we have no connection with British Gas! No doubt in reply to a management instruction, in a vain effort to reduce the amount of complaints by making sure we can’t get through, and giving out dates for service maintenance or repairs they have no intention of keeping?  
I suppose you think that I am getting annoyed? Piqued, cross, aggravated, disgruntled, exasperated, irked, irritated, nettled, and upset with British Gas’s lack of honesty, cheating, misrepresentation, equivocation, deception, fabrication, fibbing, falsification, fooling, deceiving, deluding, hoodwinking, conning, tricking, bamboozling- are you? They are the most deceitful, underhanded, deceptive, chicanery-ridden, unscrupulous, devious, artful set of customer (non) service givers I’ve ever known. Bearing in mind, I have suffered similar avoidance & evasion tactics to suit their own measures from Virgin Media and HMG Customs & Excise. (I lost those battles as well).
Having tried all of the above, and failed.
Makes British Gas Customer Service ineptitude far worse (or superior) than that of all the other Oligarchs, guilty parties, and companies put together. 
A company that exists to sort out people’s complaints against power-supplying companies will not help anyone using British Gas for electricity; see below. 
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CEO Chris O’Shea: total pay package £4.73 million
A Genuine letter from British Gas Oligarchs to an elderly customer… Mrs Nightmare is not her name!
I’ve got to stop on this subject.
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Photos taken during the day.
Sweet & sour with egg fried rice.
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Sunset snaps
Last one
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TUESDAY 20th OCTOBER 2026
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DISAPPOINTING DAY
Little was achieved, compounded by the failure at the Audio Clinic, which at first seemed great but left a lingering threat of terrible things, like needing to telephone my Doctor, a challenge much feared nowadays, with the possible result being taxi fares to get my ears de-waxed. My Doctor told me that although she had cleaned the hearing aids, there was still so much wax in them that she expected the Cerumen to block things up again in a few days. 
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PRE-DURING & AFTER THE VISIT
I spent an odd evening and night,
Nodded off in the chair, woke feeling shite,
Just had a seizure, became a somnambulist…
For 4 hours in the chair I’d slept,
Realising, quick as a sulphite,
Twas the end of my sleep tonight,
For tomorrow’s, to Audio Clinic…
The thought got me in a panic,
Things to plan, & with my Attention Deficit,
Details, timing, my brain went bicentric…My mind resisted, went all abulic,
Wanting things to go right, I’m apophenic,
What to take, have I got the schematic?
Painkillers for knees & shoulders rheumatic?
Hospital Transport arranged, ‘ecstatic’!
Trouble is I’m so amnestic,
Expecting today to go all tragicomic,
I think my plans will turn out theoretic,
Lovely people at the Audio Clinic,
Surely, they’ll make me hear better,
Then I can offer them a douceur,
My offer in thanks will be sincere,
A Clinic? To me? More a sacraria.
But today, it was scarrier,
Tell you more later.
Later came Andrew, my Carer,
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The lift arrived from the hospital,
Two drivers, one short, one tall,
Got me there without a fall,
Into the crowded waiting hall,
Cram-packed, space available minimal,
No one spoke, well, said little at all.
As all awaited things audiological,
We got sat down; Andrew did squibble
When I stood up for an amble,
Cather bag was slowly filling,
Been there a long time, I wasn’t caring,
My name was called; we were led in…
Soon she hearing aid mending,
Then my ears investigating,
She said both ears need olive-oiling,
Said do that, twice daily,
She frowned, and said earnestly,
They’re working now, as you can see,
Expect another blockage, & quickly,
You must phone your surgery,
See if they do wax removal…
If not, you must pay for it privately,
Costing £50 an ear is normal,
I agreed, querimoniously,
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Then we left to ring for a taxi,
Then I started to get a little angry,
At the route taken, costing me…
I said, “Where are you going, matey?”
And this taxi cost was mounting,
I’m using GPS; where should I be?
I told him, pensively,
We got home eventually,
It was as much as going to the QMC!
Got up in the flat, Andrew and I,
I wanted, needed a mug of tea.
Thus today did not go satisfactorily.
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Bed, sleep seemed an attractive idea; but no!
I’d rearranged the food orders for late in the day.
The first one at 17/1800hrs, the second for 18/1900.
Carer Mirza called me; always glad when he calls. I planned to get down for 1630hrs to let him in, but I got stuck scribbling notes about the day when the intercom rang. I went down, but no one was there. I thought it was later than it was, and the wardens wouldn’t be able to let him into Winwood Court. I went back up to the flat and found him in there. To my pleasure, they were here because he’d arrived earlier than usual. Good job, too!
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Boiled two large spuds, cut
them in half, and added
some smoked vegan cheese
on top of each slice, and
they tasted Grrreat!
Lip-smacking good!
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First food delivery arrived early
Second one a smidge late
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Done for, fell asleep after washing the pots.
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WEDNESDAY 21st OCTOBER 2026
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Woke up after four hours’ sleep, with the upcoming acid reflux filling my chest, up to my throat, mouth and nasals. I was well disoriented. The Carer came in. I can’t even recall who it was, but I sensed I’d been hurried too much given the state I was in. He kept asking what painkillers I wanted. He then disappeared into the WC for ten minutes. No problem. He departed, and I sorted the bins. I was still not fully compos mentis. But thought things were becoming clearer. Still a bit vague, though. I then put some garden peas in spring water,  some light soy sauce. I plan to add sliced potatoes for later.
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I looked at the Carer’s medication table and instantly thought, “Well, this needs some sorting out!”
But forgot about it when the intercom rang for the fifth time, and I had to shoot down to the lobby to let them in.
No one was there, for the fourth time. When I said shoot, a more appropriate word would be ‘hobble’.
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The mobile battery died. The computer would not start up. Nor would the TV. The intercom failed every call. The kitchen hot tap is dripping. The kettle went bang… but still works? I tried to count of many things I dropped, but lost track; there were so many. Ah, I found a loose page with numbers and details of some of them that I could not find or dropped: Saucepan lid, tea bag pot, pens (3), picker-upper (2), camera, mobile (2), hearing aids, toothache spray, Olive-oil dropper, water bottle (3),
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Carer Raj did the long call visit, hah! I’ll say no more; he’s a big lad, and doesn’t take criticism well.
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I thought this was an Iceland fresh cake, but it turned out to be frozen. Still, it looks like I’ll get some fresh Cream & Lemon store-baked ones from Morrisons next Wednesday. These are for my Angel & her hubby Frank, as a little thank you.
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Afternoon view before the rains poured.
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SWEET DREAMS
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Inchie: Sat 30 Aug: Yet another lousy day! Confusion Konrad, Depression Darius, Sandra Seizures, but little High-Mood-Horis!

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Where do I leave my words of perspicuity?
I’ll try to explain to you clearly,
Mayhap inside a time capsule,
Where do we bury it? In a school,
Perhaps a police station or hospital?
All three will be run by the Oligarchy,
Used by backhanergivers & the aristocracy,
If Herr Starmer gets his way,
What goes in our time capsule?
The lies of Herr Starmer, the fool?
His standards? Self-motivated & dual…
Kiers lies, barriserial & political?
I, like millions, look forward to his burial!
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What a day! The agony started as soon as I woke up. I was in fact enjoying the peace of being in a seizure, unaware of that, of course, it seems the only way to get any sleep and stay in it nowadays, but the recovering after effects were pretty harmful, as per usual. The door chime rang, stirring me cruelly back to reality. But my confusion and balance were all over the place. Getting out of bed took that long; the chime stopped. I continued the battle to get on my feet and carried the nocturnal bag with me to save time, to reach the panel when they called back, and to unlock the door.
In the rush and confusion, I got the catheter bag caught on the corner shelf as I exited the room… Knocking off and breaking a small ornament I kept in memory of my wonderful Aunty Kath. Amidst all the panic, Depression Darius joined me, with Frustration Frank and a rare visitor, Fearful Fred. I was aware that the confusion and panic were coming from the seizure recovery, but that didn’t help.
When I unlocked the door,  and, daft as it sounds, I had no idea what day or time it was, which panicked me further. I’d had no rest & recovery time, do you see? I’ve no idea what happened, just a few odd bits, of which I’m not certain anyway.
When Carer Nimra came in, I was back sitting on the bed with my head in my hands. (The head hadn’t fallen off, Hehe!) No recollection of much of what took place. Lots did, cause there was a full page of scribbled notes about it. Undecipherable, so I must have written them while still recovering after Carer Nimra had departed. The last bit I could read… I went into another seizure as Nimra left. I recall her telling me to sit down, I’m going now… There was nothing the gal could do anyway. Bless her. I got back on the bed. I think it was minutes later, I came back to reality, and all the after-effect symptoms had, as expected, returned. I was not going to risk getting up too quickly or soon after being forced to; that was not a pleasant experience.

I rose carefully about 15 minutes later. Grabbed Willie the Wooden Walking Stick. Off to the kitchen to steep a Detox bag in water. I visited the Porcelain Throne. Feeling more comfortable and with it as time passed. A 100% turnaround in the evacuation. Hard work, painful and bloody session. Yet a nice change from the last eight sloppy, wet, spattery Trotsky Terence cleaning up-after trips.

Later, I found this shot of the trees & bushes on the front of the flat’s walkway and carpark. I can’t recall when, or even if, I took it.

There were numerous issues with CorelDraw and the SD reader; in fact, it completely crashed. Boy, was I struggling with fitting the new one. Yes, I was!
I got the new SD reader out of its box. The SD cards now have to be inserted upright, which my Cramp-ridden, arthritic, and Peripheral neuropathy-affected fingers were reluctant to let me do. The more I use it, the easier it might get. It features several additional benefits, including a turn-on/off button for each socket. Which will be no use to me if I can’t find out how to replug it in the back of the computer.  
I was leaning forward to plug in the one… and PN’s dying neurotransmitters, shot the wire from my grip… They often perform similar actions, such as preventing me from gripping something or not allowing me to release something. I’ve broken countless mugs and plates. You may have noticed I no longer use plates, only paper ones or metal ones. This can be a problem when removing a hot dish from the microwave or oven, and I’m unable to release the hot dish or tray. You may have noticed the number of burns I collect. Haha! 
I was nearing the point of accepting that forgetting the socket for us and losing the plug wire would cause a terminal issue here. Carer Nimra arrived at just the right moment. At my point of despair…
She knew which socket to use and inserted it for me.
WALLAH! And I then had a new SD reader that worked
YeeHaa! No, double, even treble YeeHaa! 
Bless her cotton socks!
But, more good news! I  know, you are not used to getting good news from Inchie Today.
I put the mousse and keyboard senders in the last two plugs, and the SD reader in the next one. There are on/off buttons for each connection! I then grilled Nimra, asking what had taken place this morning, saying I couldn’t recall. She calmly told me I was all over the place verbally and physically. But don’t worry, you coped well with it all. I realised she’d not put the diabetic socks on, but had given me the morning’s prescription medications. So I spent the day sockless, Herhehe! Undoubtedly, this saved the day for me and was what spurred a short, but pleasantly acceptable visit from ! Then… No chance to start yesterday’s blog update yet. Because the frustratingly unreliable CorelDraw started playing up, and after sorting out the failure to save the page was due to a lack of memory, I pondered what I could do about it.

Going into a seizure, the length of reading War & Peace, compared to the usual 2 to 15 minutes, did me no good at all. I cannot judge how long it lasted, but it must have been a long one, because the after-effects and recovery time are always easier after a lengthy seizure. Also, the mug of Glengettie tea that I’d made was now stone cold! And, getting the brain to concentrate was a lot easier than after one or a series of .
I summoned as much intellectualisation as Premorbid Cognitive Impairment Mavis could muster, to try and find a solution to my problem with CorelDraw. Graphic artists worldwide have to do this regularly, I’m sure. So, having pondered, the best I could come up with was to use CCleaner and hope it creates enough space in the process. So, I did.
I had closed Excel and Word, then Google, and after saving the work, I ran CCleaner. It allowed me to keep CorelDraw open. (Sadists! Haha!) CCleaner claimed it had removed 2500 KB from the hard drive and 967 KB from the drive. This looks good, I thought.
Back to CorelDraw to try to save the work again. I opened Google, was going to go back to CorelDraw…

That went well… I waited, and waited for the windows to update. Not sure if I fell asleep or not. What day is it? What was I doing?
I had confidence once back on CorelDraw that CCleaner must have removed enough to save the artwork. I tried – it didn’t work. I screamed, wailed, spat & cried. My language was a bit crude.
I lost all the photographs when CorelDraw froze again! I did cry this time!

Then, yet another cock-up was made! I seem to be becoming an expert on these.
Amazon sent me an email stating that the £149 wheelchair, which had received adverse reports, had been cancelled. I promptly placed an order for one of the £184 models with handbrakes on the handles for the Carer or pusher, but with self-propelling wheels. I was thrilled that I might be able to get out and about on my own.
I realised that I had not checked the comments on this model, so I did. They were a replica of the comments on the £149 model???
But it had been a terrible day for me, and I was getting more and more tired and sleepy now, after suffering enough problems, Whoopsiedangleplops and frustrations to last me over the last few days for the rest of my life. Well, maybe. I’m still far behind with blogging than I’ve ever been. I frustratedly gave up on the computer and got my overdue Ablutions done.
The seat marks under my arm had worsened significantly overnight. I’ll ask the Carer to use the barrier cream and remind them to remove all traces of the old cream, then clean the area with baby wipes. This is only if I remember to ask whoever comes. As ‘Forgetters go!’, I think I deserve an award for my sheer dogged persistence, regularity, & stupidity.
I almost had myself over when I washed my feet in disinfectant in the bowl while shaving, getting only one cut! It did bleed a bit, mind you.
I foolishly decided to get a short-sleeved black kagoule hand-washed and rinsed, then hung it up in the wet room to dry on the shower curtain rail. As I turned to leave the room… I shoulder-charged the door edge. Which set off on one of her vicious attempts to dislodge the ball from the socket! Not that this actually surprised or upset me, it was just another cog, pain and annoyance on my way to total insanity. I’m not ready for considering suicide yet, cause I still have dreams of someone assassinating Starmer; I’d hate to miss that, and it would give a little lift, and laugh. I’ve paid for my funeral. I told the Carer where the details are. Not that I’m in any rush. Oh no, but if things carry on as they are… well!

I’m assuming that I had a seizure. I came back and was mopping the kitchen floor with the speed mop. The storage trolley was out of position, I’d moved food from a cupboard onto the floor near the radiator, and opened both windows. I’d been busy during my ictus? No one has explained to me how this can be so. Impossible to happen, surely?
Now this had happened before. If I recall rightly, it was the same as last time. The recovery and confusion were far less than having had an ‘ordinary’ seizure when all I apparently did was say, according to the Carers who were with me at the time: Sometimes with open eyes, others with them closed, but always with jerks, shaking and a mumbling of incoherent short words. Joeonce wrote down what I was babbling about in short outbursts; Urghum, Worramum, ehereherehu and No, no. With different expressions for each so-called word?
But how can I do things like moving things, and mop a floor? Mind you, I made a mess of that and had to clean it again this time.

And what happened to my feeling of being so drained?
Why should I do it at this time of night, let alone during a seizure? How? Why? Thankfully, these don’t occur very often… Ah! Perhaps there is a connection to my feeling of being so tired? Nae!

I keep getting myself off track tonight. But the need of food arose. I looked in the fridge to see what was available for dining on. The photo above reveals two outdated food items that I had to discard. The pastie on the right was use-by 19th Aug. Whatever it was inside that had gone mouldy and showing through the pastry and bag was mysterious enough. But then, why did I buy them in the first place? My tiredness returned.

I decided, after seeing what was not available to eat, to opt for frozen chip shop chips, tomatoes, and two defrosted cheesy-topped no-butter buttered bread rolls, along with some cheap £1-a-packet ham slices, which were well within their use-by date, 8th September. Worryingly, the highest ingredient listed was water.
However, they were a success (Not the meat, but the tomatoes, bread and chips were lovely).

There’s a chance of a miracle having taken place here. I cannot remember seeing the moon while I was in bed. Sometimes I see the hue coming through the tatty, thin curtains. I’ve been known to scramble out of bed to take a shot of it. I’m sure I didn’t tonight… well, as sure of anything I can ever be sure of. But that’s not saying much, is it? This snap was so beautiful, I’d have thought I’d remember taking it.
It’s Sunday evening as I write this. I’m now over two blogs behind. I think. I’m waffling on, and still have Sundays to start, and 30 templates to make up.
I’ll do a quickie for Sunday. Just the top graphics, CorelDraw permitting.
An Ode, hopefully.
And a photo or two…
I should get it done by Christmasish. Haha!.

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MISSING HORIS!

🤎 CHEERY-BYE FOLKS 🤎

Inchy Today: Thursday 3rd July 2025

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I was told to prepare for all contingencies,
I looked this word up in local libraries,
I accidentally looked up continencies,
Was it summat about taking a piss?
Why would Dad want to tell me this?
He also said I can recall the basics…
On yer paper round, don’t talk to strangers,
And don’t put on any airs & graces…
If anyone tries to rob yer, kick him in the knackers,
If you tear a paper in the letterboxes,
Put a note through with your apologies,
If a dog bites yer or attacks with its claws,
Don’t scream or make any noises…
Waking people up will bring annoyance & grudges!
In the rain, don’t get the paper wet with smudges,
Alright if it gets damp, but not if it oozes,
And use blinds or drapes, but never portières.
I’m not too keen on raviolis,
Not up to doing any exercises,
I wake before the day rises,
That’s due to my nocturnal seizures,
Strong chill, too hot, but I like milder spices,
Used love fondling, groping in various guises,
I’m too old to have any sexual fetishes,
Now, a mug of tea & listen to the Archers,
In pain from the fallen arches,
Stuck indoors, no need for coats & parkas,
Some people are nosey-parkers, not the nurses,
The last woman I fancied was into parrillas,
It was shocking, and she charged us!
Still, I’m ready for reembraces!
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Hectic day again.
I’m miles behind again; at this moment, it’s 16:55hrs tomorrow (Friday)! Just got this far with the blog!
A few notes of the day, No doubt some lost and not o the notepad with me getting more and more uptight & frustrated. Then, the few photos I’ve taken.
I’ll have to stop to make a meal sometime, so I will have to finish this Saturday morning… I’m getting Anne Gyna back again now, and she is not in a good mood with me. Well, she can… Soddit! Duodenal Donald has joined in now! Grumph!

Anne Gyna woke me up at 0520hrs, so I rose and sorted out the night bag. Went to make a mug of tea and make an early start on my Wednesday blog finishing. Thinking I could catch up, I’m losing this. Hahaha! pillockCarer Ejaz arrived. Medications were administered, and ankles, feet, and legs were checked. Much better all round, great!
I spent hours on Odeing, searching for new words to use and getting carried away.

Then, I decided to search for a place that sells footspray and Co-codamol.

Lost hours with the time needed to come out of the many mini-seizures. So many blanks.

Erm…
Afternoon Clouds Delight

Well, things indeed became more concentrated after I made the meal: A baguette cut into three, no-butter butter, many slices of salted green tomatoes lashed into them. A Silesian sausage and crisps. 
I found the pot of jelly on Friday night; I’d dropped it when I fell asleep.

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TTFNski!
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Inchy Mon 9 June 25: Whoopsiedangleplops Unabated!

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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An ever awakening, lousy night’s kip,
Today, I all but lost the script…
Started okay but ended up like a damp squid,
I wouldn’t have today again for a 1,000,000 quid!
I really was error-ridden and sad…
I tried to contact Mum & Dad; it was that bad,
These things listed, I suffered and had…
I’ve now got a bruised, bleeding toenail,
A computer that drove me up the wall,
CorelDraw’s not useable at all!
The photo reader? Photos unacquirable!
Not working, no access, most frustratable!
Dropped the saucepan and a bottle…
What a mess and kerfuffle!
Again, I had a dizzy and took a tumble,
Hot water left to run cold, so unavailable,
These events are not chronological,
The last few days have been terrible,
Today, I upgraded to abominable,
Told my Carer my woes, sounding comical,
My brain was cynical, then went cryptical,
Self-hatred, guilt, thoughts pathetical,
Accepting again, no longer controversial,
Then in crept a new idea… it was crematorial,
Life seems circumscribable yet choplogical…
The wave of bad luck that’s unstoppable?
Here’s the early photos that were importable,
Urine assessment, colourful…
The kitchen view is not so colourful,
Calendar clock, just before my first tumble,
So glad I got the Copse shot; it is beyond beautiful,
Made room for the next delivery, but minimal,
Ordered some medicine, bronchial,
I worried not of anything cosmeceutical,
But, struggled with anything practical,
Had a few wicked thoughts that were biblical,
My dreams were either cryptical or cynical…
Will Starmer ever be assassinationable?
Nothing’s straightforward but curvilineal,
It’s been too long since I had a cuddle,
Failures; is it me that is culpable?
As for when I last got romantic & coital…
Which is now physically impossible…
I might be coming across as cacodaemoniacal?
As I await things becoming cataclysmical,
I dreamt of things perfect, paradisaical,
Then the dream sort of went physical…
I fell out of bed; it could have been lethal,
The catheter bag burst, forming a puddle!
Cleaning things up, I got in a muddle,
Will a day ever again be wonderful?
With heavenly moments of being peaceful?
Or stay mausoleal & ever depressible?
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Today was another struggle,
Not everything was detrimental,
High-Mood-Horis (HMH), my virtual alchemist…
Sadly, missed me off of his visiting list,
Dark Deep Dank Depressing Duncan didn’t!
His visit & my plans had no denouement,
If I had any, I may have taken a deliriant,
HMH brings a temporary disentanglement, 
This turns me into a temporary recusant.
A couldn’t-care-lesser dissident,
But HMH’s visits are unreliable & transient,
Concerns, fears and worries are agitated,   
The easy-going moments are replaced,
Check stocks of medications & liniment,
Taos & catheter need to be checked,
Mistakes, accifauxpas, are re-afflicted,
Self-battles, arguments to be altercated,
Thoughts to be abandoned or alternated, 
Food out-of-date to be oven-incinerated,
The meaning of life, not yet comprehended,
Waiting for death, to be awarded.
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I LIVE IN HOPE – I ACCEPT FAILURE
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Inchy’s Ode: Friday 30th May 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I had a great idea, all be told,
To go into today’s Inchy Ode,
I was unshirted, & the brain unsorted,
To the Porcelain Throne, I ventured,
The motion was being prevented,
Constipation Conrad; I was tortured,
An hour later, the torpedo appeared…
To the blood & pain, I was not enured,
It painfully slowly came out, multicoloured,
I felt my innards being distorted…
The monster stuck, it was unimparted,
Surprisingly plopping, it was aerated!
Back to the Ode, but it had to be aborted,
I think my memory box had busted,
My mind & body, both beleaguered,
Back to the WC, I almost blubbered,
I got the second torpedo out painfully,
Then, a brainwave came to me…
I’d lost the Ode’s plot, alarmingly,
I’d tell you of the WC barbarity,
I had to make visits again, how many? Three!
I thought I might take up residency…
Arthur Itis’ knees, both rheumaticky,
Since the Covid jab, I’ve felt so sleepy,
But I’ve not lost it completely…
My brain is acting somewhat whimsically,
Another tumble, another Whoopsie!
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TTFN’ski

Inchy: Wednesday 14th May 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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First time in Parliament? Expect irregularities,
Want to accustomise? First, you should acclimatise…
Be the awarest, awesomest, & awfullest,
Knowing your foe’s weaknesses can only be wise,
Also, consider if you really do realise…
You need to know your foe’s atmospherics,
Beware the ethereal, but listen to their fallacies,
It’s essential to avoid verbal catch-22s,
Ignore the incompatibilities, self-contradictions,
Their abnormalities and ambiguities…
Lies, debasements, and talking contradictorily,
They use these cons daily, customarily,
Use reverse psychology on Keir’s bootlickers,
Digressions and deviancies are expectednesses!
<<<<>>>>
Protect yourself, avoid the moral shanghaier,
You can’t miss him, the PM, Keir Starmer,
To gain faith, become a backhander…
He likes Arsenal, cash and things ocular,
Look left, right, you’ll see a thimblerigger,
Starmer’s lies shoot out sort of spicular,
Just sit there looking nowhere in particular,
You’ll be surrounded by psychobabblers,
You’ll be increasing your cash in your coffers,
Your unchecked expenses for acupuncture…
Toilet rolls, lipstick, maybe garden furniture,
Computer… owt to increase your filthy lucre,
If, by chance, you got in under Labour,
Keir will let you catch hylomania!
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Manky day.
6 stitches.
CorelDraw charged me £345 + VAT for the new version. Why can’t I get any help with these things?
I loaded CorelDraw—and it crashed! I can’t save or export anything. I took eight photographs and doctored them before discovering this wayward glitch. They are gone forever.

I wish I was.

Two phone calls from the surgery, but I only understood one of them.

The laundry room dryer was packed up. Joe, on his way, put them in a different dryer. He had to go down to collect them, and I took a tumble, bending down in the dryer and picking up socks. I think I dropped more socks than there were in the drying. I guess I’ve become an addicted sock-dropper?

 My leg growths were bleeding when I took an earlier tumble while sorting out the clothes not needed in the junk room.

Broken-hearted, what a bloody day!

I finally got some food at 22:00 hrs. I can’t use or publish any more graphics or photographs, but I have some old ones I might use. I’m fed up with the mangled, broken, toothache-ridden back teeth.

Lower than I’ve felt for years now.

More medical callers, and a food order tomorrow. But I’ll try my best to get CorelDraw working. Or, I’ll find time to sort out a ploy to get around the problem. Possibly a smidge of blind hope?

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TTFN
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Inchy Today: Thursday 3rd April 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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More Advice for Whippersnappers!
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Why does life go so dysfunctionally?
It’s worse when you get over eighty!
Things were once easy and elementary,
Just waking up is a struggle daily,
It’s hard work, hiding your docility,
Losing all of little in the first-place divinity,
You may keep some social logicality,
But relying on others benignancy,
You’ll no longer act condemnatorily,
Deprecatorily, reproachfully, harshly,
Limbs stop working, physically,
The brain torments you mentally,
Cataract or Glaucoma visually,
Catheter bag hanging on your knee,
Diabetes, & Peripheral Neuropathy?
Seizures, some short, some prolifically,
Allergies that send you psychedelically,
You decide to fight these, purposefully,
But not pseudo-scientifically,
You’ll try visionary things, quixotically…
You failures you accept quotidianly,
They put you in a bit of a quandary,
But you try again quintessentially,
You pray, beg, & hope for a qualificatory…
For a way to live again, more painlessly,
More reliably, more competently,
To find joy again, sociality…
The cartilage gives way on your knee,
You seek assistance medically…
Soon back home, having a mug of tea,
Crutches, walkers, some get them free,
If you’ve too much cash, quintessentially,
Then free ones will be only visionary,
Oh, to live life rambunctiously,
More importantly, it’s hassle-free,
Then, the bill arrives for your electricity,
The rent goes up heartlessly…
Food prices rise pitilessly,
No time for theory, with things pecuniary,
But ageing, ever-fading, irreversibly…
Life in the UK is now recessionary,
Oligarchs reacting unsympathetically,
HMG treats farmers, pensioners cruelly,
Scoffing at their voters, insensitively,
You youngsters must act rebelliously,
We oldies at best see HMG resentfully,
You must declare HMG’s risibility,
We’ll never see the end of war & poverty,
Murder, killing, greed or rapacity,
Look down from heaven or hell, happily…
Enjoy the long-awaited doomsday,
The end of the world? A catastrophe?
You’ll join us in Hell if there’s the capacity!
Voters have got to show more audacity,,
I dream of being able to again wee-wee,
By this, I mean, when I to, manually,
Be free of seizures and myelopathy,
Diabetic diabetes, not be so moody,
The depressions would leave me be,
Arthur Itis, & fungal-lesions go away,
My cartilages could work mellifluously,
I’d be freed of feeling minaciously,
To find a computer engineer, mirabiliary,
My hearing returns, miraculously…
My one dream left is to live carefree!
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It was a wickedly frustrating day! Not compared to the last two horrible days, mind you. But the computer toyed with me every time. Precious few photographs got on after the first few did, early in the day. Then freezes, and some fonts have disappeared. I spent so long trying get things to work, but without a lot of luck. I fear the worst, computerwise.
>>>>><<<<<
The best colour ever, a three!

A dour morning.
The sun broke through later, but it wasn’t worth taking any pictures cause of the computer!

Colin Cramps paid a few visits today
(Old photo used again)

Carer Jo did the first call. He was helpful again with the mail. Thanks.

Ahram, the second. He tried to help with the computer problems, which I spent hours and hours trying to sort out. I didn’t!

Early in the afternoon, the weariness came over at its usual time. Then Anne Gyna woke up, and the mini-seizures paid so many short visits.

I made an early meal and took a photo, but I don’t expect it to get to the file somehow.

Hristina, the DVT Warfarin nurse, arrived and took some blood. I do love her.
(Old photo used)
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I was not feeling too good then.
Made worse again when the seizures kicked off and Ann Gyna joined in. I gave up trying to sort the damnable computer.

Washed the dishes, sat to watch some TV, and blissfully fell asleep around 17:20hrs.

1735hrs, the Carer woke me up.
So tired and in some pain with Anne Gyna roving about my chest, back and neck as if she was taking a hiking holiday over my torso! Haha!

GANNET INCHY!
Peed-off, frustrated, and coping with another Anne Gyna (angina) attack. Deeply depressed and fed up with struggling with the computer and CorelDRAW, I made an earlier-than-usual nosh. In the morning, it took me well over two hours to upload this one photo; the other six would not save to file! Grrr!
Beef & onion in gravy, with colcannon mashed potatoes and carrots, with the last of the milk roll sliced bread used to dunk in the gravy.
GORGEOUS!
I dined well, and Anne Gyna appreciated the stomach being filled cause she calmed down a lot!
Two hours later, after the Carer had been and gone, Anne Gyna began to worsen again. What did I think would be a good idea? To eat more!
Understand the pain that caused me to gobble up a full giant pouch of Cheez-It nibbles with cashew nuts, pecan and pistachio nuts in between! I think mayhap, may have helped me was scoffed away in between falling asleep and being woken by with more venom than normally used on me. I think I ate some nibble or other after each enforced-waking-up.

I could not get back to sleep this time. So, I put the TV on, and there were two back-to-back episodes just starting. I would guess that I must have nodded of for a few minutes what seemed like every few minutes. The jerking back to wakefulness was not hindered by this time, though.
Because I was enjoying myself so much again, that was the reason for my awakening! Right neck, jaws, left high chest, centre chest, left rib cage, lower chest, throat, back to the left neck… On and on. If her domain is my body, I think she must have taken a world cruise to issue her stabbings this time. Haha! Still, on the plus side, the steadied up, and I had few overnight.
It might be worth me remembering that. Do you think that when the come thick and fast, it might be an idea for me to eat a lot? Hahaha! It seemed to keep her calm tonight!

After missing most of the Heartbeat programmes through the mini-nod-offs, the food, the healthy and the naughty, had travelled down and through the pipeworks, and I needed to utilise the for a second time today. It may have been my uncontrolable hunger and scoffing so much that caused to be in total control of the proceedings. No doubt about it, it was the messiest mess for a long time. Maybe months!
I cleaned up myself and the Porcelain, during which an almost forgotten-about ailment accifauxpas took place. I ! Another rarity, I don’t think I’ve given myself a toe-stubbing for weeks now. Well, it’s a bit of variety for me. Hah-Ha!

With the minor kerfuffling and toe-stubbing, I was glad to get into the hospital bed. But the vague sleep that I was getting earlier, did not want to know. I still felt tired and weary but could not nod off for hours. When I did, it was back to the shooting awake with a jerk. I think I might be that jerk. Hee-hee! But it was good that after that, each time I woke, I got back to sleep easily enough.
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TTFNski, Folks!
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>>>>>TWO<<<<<
My memory has been slowly macilated,
Naturally, it cannot be modified,
My neurosurgeon tried…
That was much appreciated,
My memory then abscinded,
It’s new stuff can’t be remembered,
What bit can that is usually aberrated,
But old things are not abrogated,
When Grizelda and I mated…
The memory is now well dated,
But as clear, but abrogated…
As any bloke who’s been cathetered,
Such memories can get you castrated!

Fellow Foley-catheter-wearing men will painfully understand wot I mean! Haha! 
>>>>>ARGH!<<<<<
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Have a Great Day!
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Inchy: Wednesday 22nd January 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I could never do a headstand,
I’ve never had a house husband,
I did once get stuck in the heathlands,
Can’t get out now, I’m somewhat housebound, 
I found a hairband on my hatstand?

I was confused, not worried,
I’d taken some tablets that were Cabbinoid,
Hehehe! My Carer was jealous and annoyed,
No sleep for two days, and I was bed rid?
More alarms, something smelt putrid & fetid…

The computer was acting like an invalid,
So many problems I was fumid,
I’m giving up now; it makes me sick.
There must be someone who can help me a bit…
I’ve got no teeth left to grit,

On my second night without sleep or rest,
Couldn’t sort the computer, tried my absolutist,
Anne Gyna was at her painfullest…
Phlegm from the nose and stuck in the chest,
There are little medications left in the medical chest!
Angina tablets for three days at best…
Beta-blockers; the chest is dereft!
Carer Richard is off ill, none ordered from the chemist,
I’ll ask the morning Carer if he or she can assist,
There was a moment. Mayhap the days blessedest…
I dropped the catheter bag and tripped over it…
Fell forwards headfirst down into the WC abyss!
A smug mode, I just had to utilise…
Confused and tired, but I did realise…
I stopped myself from hitting my head and eyes.

The smugness didn’t last for long after the accidents…
The Trotky Terence evacuation was fluid and icterious,
My next problem was a smidge more serious…
I hit the doorframe with Shaking Shoulder Shirley.
And Anne booming Gyna turned on the pain, serious!
To the kitchen, already feeling delirious…
En route, I realised the piles were bloodless…
I soon turned to feeling self-piteous,
I’d left the hot tap running, disastrous!
Cause it had overflowed, The alarm was cacophonous,
The phone sounded, and a half-asleep voice asked us…
Are you all right? Your kitchen overflow alarm is sounding,
I lied, telling her that everything was fine, apologising.

The phlegm in my throat and chest was almost choking, 
The sore throat hurt so much when coughing,
It was even worse when I did any sneezing,
Got the bucket & mop from WR, & started cleaning,
By which it was not so easy, breathing,
To the wet room, the cleaning things returning,
What I saw was almost blood-curdling…
I’d left the washbasin hot tap running!
At least it wasn’t overflowing,
I wondered what the next Fauxpa would be coming!

After that, I, more or less, shattered…
My interest, plans, and hopes no longer mattered,
In search of sleep, I got the bed battered,
Spent an hour getting the up-down positions mastered,
I threw on a giant thick quilt and got under the mattress
Stayed there until the arrival of the DVT INR nurse…
I consider Hristina to be genuinely precious…
She is kind, caring and pulchritudinous,
This photo of her on the balcony is priceless to me…
It was framed and sent to me by Cyber-Mate Timothy,
Lovely Hristi, I wandered off-track there, sorry,
Back into the hospital bed, not feeling sleepy…
I covered myself with the giant quilt completely,
I didn’t know it then, but consequently…
Tomorrow morning was to go worse, astoundingly!
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This bug is depressing, to say the least,
No sleep, depression, at least at the moment. The seizures seem to have died down a lot.
I’m a little worried about the Anne Gyna medications and others that are about to run out again. Richard’s not coming on Monday was not his fault; the lad’s was so poorly. The stock was not checked, so no order was sent to the doctors for prescriptions from the chemist. There are only three days of Ansoperapol left to treat my Anne Gyna pains. I mentioned this to the late Carer Colin (I think) on Thurs.

I kept trying to catch up on sleep every day, but it failed. I wish I knew why. I have been without shuteye for three days now. Concentration is just a memory. CorelDraw and the computer are playing up, and there is no camera. The Caregiver, who was off for a few days, needed his camera to record the birth of his second child. Hope it all goes well for them. 👍🏼

I still need sleep, but I don’t feel all that tired?
This bug is a bugger!
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I’m Struggling Here, Midears!
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Inchy: Tuesday 14th January 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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What are you? What kind of achiever?
What would you be if you weren’t a skiver?
An autoworker, auctioneer or autobiographer…
An archiver, aspirer, or an awe-giver?
Backpacker, baker, ballbreaker…
Banker, billposter, beggar or bedmaker?
Cheesemaker, contractor or counterfeiter…
A Chauffeur, croupier, or courier?
A grave-digger, drug-taker, drugmaker…
Murderer or some kind of doctor?
Lift engineer, mayhap an Egyptologer…
Driving test examiner, an art exhibiter?
Fortune teller, foot-soldier, or fraudster?
A gardener, food gatherer, gamekeeper?
A house-sitter, work on a Helter Skelter?
Interpreter, inventor, or interviewer…
Ironmonger, investor, immigrant importer?
A jailer, janitor, jitterbugger, or jester?
Kindergartener, or a kettledrummer ?
Lamplighter, lawyer, or do liposculpture?
Microbrewer, or full-time Father/Mother…
Microbrewer or full-time malingerer?
A weed-neutraliser, maybe narcotrafficker…
A military officer or a Newspaper obiter?
Paperhanger, photographer, prize-fighter…
A pilferer, plasterer or psychobabbler?
Quantity surveyor or quartermaster?
A reupholsterer, a Brexit renegotiater…
Maintain a roller-coaster or racketeer?
Schoolteacher, or work in a shoe store…
Be a seismographer or a speechwriter…
Market stallholder, mayhap a speedskater?
A BP sphygmomanometer operator…
An actor like Arnold Schwarzenegger…
Possibly become a stripteaser…
Streaker, shoplifter or stationmaster?
A trumpeter, toastmaster or toymaker…
Toreador, tax-gatherer, world traveller?
A uranographer, become chairman of Unilever?
A passport validator, or maybe a vintner…
A furniture varnisher or a beach voltigeur?
A basket weaver or a whoremaster?
Work for Starmer as his yeasayer?
A politician and or a Parole Boarder?
You’ll learn how to be a freeloader,
A bullshitter, wanker & hobnobber,
Backhander-taker, hatemonger, & hornswoggler,
A farmer & pensioner-impoverisher!
If you fawn to & backhand Starmer…
Your career will eventually stutter…
As the end comes for Herr Starmer,
He’ll blame every pensioner,
He’ll blame every family farmer,
He may lie his way to be a survivor?
Starmer’s an excellent scammer & schemer,
Did I mention how much I hate Starmer?
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I awoke this merry morning and pottered about, photographing the nocturnal pouch and a few morning views. Then, after an hour or so, I realised I had not taken any falls, walked into anything, or dropped anything. My bleeding groin area was far less painful than yesterday, and the shave was a bloodless affair. Of course, medicating was as painful as it usually was.
But overall, it was a fantastic start to the day. I was expecting my beloved Nurse Hristina to call to take my blood. Apart from medicating the lesion, I naturally sang away as I launched the computer to finish yesterday’s blog.

I soon had the blog done and posted. (Still singing away to myself as I plodded on). I went on CorelDraw to prepare for up, loading the ten or so photographs I’d carefully taken.
DANGKNANGLES!
The Kodak camera had taken only two of the pictures! The first one had gone into the ether.
The second, the collated waste bag, was on the SD card. The card was in the camera; I recall taking it out and into the computer thingy, but there were no more shots!
BUT NOTHING ELSE!
I went to check on the tiny inner file. Nothing was on it.
I retook some shots of the views, ensuring the card was back in the Kodak. I took several snaps.
When I returned to upload it to the computer, nothing went through. Then, I noticed the camera did not light up when I put it on again. Stupid me!
Obviously, the batteries had died.
I put in new batteries and tried again. Nothing
RIP to yet another camera!
Then, how did it take the second shot but not the first or those that followed? Was it all a part of the mysteries of the Woodthorpe Court’s Sinister Spirit’s master plan? To raise the devil, spread wonders, blunders, rodomontades, fears and descenders from the comfort of semi-sanity, with me almost in a good mood, into a gibbering wreck!

I spent hours trying to figure out what had gone wrong. I got six more batteries and replaced the first ones I had put in. No, there was no life! Then, I put two batteries into the torch, and they worked, eliminating the dead battery idea.

A break for my mind when Nurse Hristina arrived to take the blood. It’s lovely when she comes. ♥

Two caregivers, well the same Caregiver, came twice; Carer Chloe, one for medications, and one for domestic.

I settled for a photoless blog (All bar the one); I had no choice and insufficient cash yet to get a replacement.
Depressed, dispirited and pissed off, I started doing today’s blog ode, then the top graphics.

I kept looking at the camera, thinking it must be something I’d done wrong. But it was a no-go every time I tried. And I tried so many times, sort of hoping!

At my lowest point, when I had the least interest in continuing the blog, it happened: Ailment number four kicked off.
Flared up. My confidence faded, my depression got more profound, and the roaming chest pains settled in for about a solid five hours this afternoon, well into the early evening.

What a last three days I’ve had. The two tumbles on Sunday, thanks to the bleeding from the groin par, put the mockers on Monday. Tuesday and the Kodak broke my heart by packing up on me. And gives me hell. I suppose I could order a camera from Amazon… Ah, I did that last time, so I must have one somewhere that is battery-powered… A futile spurt of hope arose!
I searched everywhere without any joy in finding it. Slowly, it dawned on me that the camera had been dropped down the waste chute while I tried to take a shot of the tube inside when it was first fitted.

I’m going to get something to eat and think about my situation. I heated a part-baked long cob with tomatoes and Sopocka, using no butter, butter.

I changed my mind and looked at the cameras on Amazon. They were far too expensive. I’ll wait until my pension goes into the bank and how much there is before spending to get a better one. Or give up altogether.
This reminds me that I still can’t access the bank account until Warden Julie gives me all the details she kindly took to sort and print out for me.

The carer came and examined both cameras. He said they were both dead, but the cheap one may work if I recharge it. It’s possible that the connection was loose when I recharged it yesterday. So, I charged it again, ensuring the plugs were solidly in place and the blue recharging light lit up.
No medications were needed. He removed my socks, picked up a drink and nibble, and went home.
Thanking him.

I was settled to watch TV when I remembered I had not eaten anything yet. I went through a hard battle against my desire for sleep and got up to make a meal. I got as far as the door, and in the dark, I could see the flashing blue charging light on the camera. So, that told me that the camera was fully charged when it failed. I took it off the charger and meandered into the kitchen, and after making my meal, I tried to take a photo of it.
GOTTEN HIMMEL It Worked!

I tried again on the evening view…
Wunderbar!!!

Note: The morrow morning, all pleased with myself, I used the miraculously working old camera again.
You will see the disastrous quality dip in the quality of the resulting pictures on Wednesday’s blog. I was very disappointed. I may get better results late in the day, but I think that is because I have more misled hope than faith.

Gluckliche!

Cockamamie Inchy: Wed 18 December 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments


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06:10 hrs: I woke after a better night’s sleep. I had slept for six hours and only woke up a few times—much better. I lay there pondering and making plans for the day.
I wanted to get to the Heron store today. Since the food order is expected very soon, I decided to get up and sort the catheter out, check that the new stove is working, and then do the waste bags—not the ablutions yet. After the food arrives, I can tend to the ablutions. Then, I can update Tuesday’s blog, put on the clothes, and catch a bus down to Sherwood. But, of course, this never happened. This is Inchy talking, after all!

I got the nocturnal catheter bag freed.
What a shade! Blimey!
I titivated the bed and got the trousers out, ready to do battle with later on. (No chance of getting the trousers on or going to the shop, Humph!)
Sorted the waste bags into one bag. I photographed the morning view; I don’t know where it went, but it was not on the SD card?
I tried warming the new mini-oven. To see if it tripped the electrics. It didn’t, but it smoked and set the fire alarm off!
Worried now. I won’t use it!

Carer Shaquille arrived. The medications were sorted. I mentioned that I still had an unreturned laundry bag in the ground-floor laundry room. During Shaq’s call, Anne Gyna kicked off and got worse than yesterday. She’s still with me on and off, at 16:00 hrs.

The Ocado delivery arrived.
I ordered a selection of cream cakes as part of the Christmas treat for the nurses, Carers and staff to have.
Two M&S Eton-Mess cream cakes. Two boxes of their Chocolate Eclairs and iced vanilla cream cakes. There’s another one, cheap iced buns. They were for me. I am a commoner!

Throughout the busy morning, I called the wardens to inform them about the cakes awaiting them in the fridge. I got through 6 hours later to let Warden Julie know. She will come to collect them later. I think they must have been to one of their famous management meetings.

When Carer Kimberly arrived for the financial meet, Arthur Itis had joined Anne Gyna in her attack. Today is not going well, so much for making plans.

I cleared the rubbish from the delivery, returned to the computer, and drifted in an elongated bout of . At the same time, Carer Kimberly was dealing with the bank details, then she contacted the chemist to make sure the prescriptions were coming, they were due tomorrow), and anything else that happened just got mixed in with the other things. I think I asked bout the unreturned bag of washing from the laundry… perhaps. Not in a good state now, especially compared to how things were earlier.

I was anywhere and everywhere, not getting much done. Carer Joanne called, and I was as surprised as she was to find I was in the middle of making some more pickled mushrooms!

I have no idea what I did for about two hours. Maybe nothing, certainly not on the computer, I thought. An hour later, I got a text message telling me the Morrison order was en route.
What Morrison order!
I checked the Amazon site, and sure enough, I had placed an order for delivery this afternoon! Now I am worried! Sure enough, the order was delivered to the door.
Opening the bags to see what the ‘eck I’d ordered was a frustrating adventure.
There was little, if anything, that I wanted or needed to purchase. And my bank balance is the lowest it’s ever been!
Shaving foam; I’ve got two cans in the wetroom! Marmite Cheese, I’ve a whole bag in the fridge. A large jar of green tomato salad; I tried one two weeks ago and threw it away; it tasted horrible! MORE CREAM CAKES! I need help here. No memory whatsoever of ordering these! I must have been deep in a seizure like never before. Yet they were items I’d bought before.
Thank heavens, Carer Kimberley sorted the prescriptions out. That is if they do arrive tomorrow, naturally.

Then things got even worse…
I turned on the new oven to test it at a higher level and went to the 12th-floor community rubbish chute with the bags from the unwanted Morrison order. A chap was in the floor’s lift foyer, and we exchanged hello’s. When I returned from trapping my finger in the chute lid, he asked if he could come into the flat to do the checks they had written me about. 
The Carers open all my mail, except when they were obviously Christmas cards. I’ve likely forgotten about the appointment. We went to the flat. He was checking some electricals, and I went to look at the new oven.
THE
A second after I’d opened the new oven door, masses of clear, hot smoke poured out of it!
I was crestfallen. Will anything ever go right for me?
Stupid Question.
I’ve lost the will to bother.

I thought this morning that I was full of plans. I even got Shaquiille on his visit to take a photo of me holding the new oven-packing foam, intending to think something witty up to try and raise a laugh and share it with you all.
Another failed plan for today.

I haven’t yet performed my ablutions or used the Porcelain Throne, medicated any of the six areas of my rhinoceros-like body that I should do twice daily, had nothing to eat, and didn’t want anything to eat. As I type this, another seizure is detected, and Electric-Shocking-Sherida just gave me one.
Anne Gyna keeps prodding me, Arthur Itis does when I move, stand or bend, and I really must stop moaning.

This is probably the lowest I’ve been all year.
And Wardens Julie & Deana have not collected their fresh-cream cakes yet. They must have been busy and forgot to. I hate throwing away fresh food, but I’ll keep them until I know they are not coming… which I’ll never know. I’m glad Jenny and Frank came for theirs and got the Fresh Eton Cream Mess cakes. Hope they enjoy them.

I can’t make a meal cause I’m too nervous to use the new damned fire-alarm-triggering oven. 
I can’t get the medicationings and ablutions done cause the gals may come for their cream cake treats. And, I’m losing confidence and heart at the same time here” I must stop moaning; it won’t solve or make anything better.
I’ll have to finish the ablutions and medication late tonight or in the morning. As for sleep, I had six good hours last night.
Now, with all the hassle, Anne Gyna, Shocking Sherida and Arthur Itis, showering and medicating will be a battle for me.

Carer Israel came in on the 18:00 call at 16:30. It matters not to me, though. I gave him a Christmas drink, or I will do it when he does the 22:00 call to take home with him. He can have the Warden’s cream cakes if they don’t call for them. I can’t see them still here at this time. You can never tell. Talking to Israel gave me new confidence, and after he left, I had a go at making some oven chips to eat on Milk Roll bread. It’s not the most elaborate meal I’ve made. Oven chips and bread… prisoners get better food.  I observed the oven for 25 minutes as the chips cooked. But there is no smoke or fire alarm this time! Great! I treated myself to some ketchup in a bowl and ate it while writing this. Enough to satiate my hunger.

Now I’m so tired. I’ll go on the WP Reader and comments and await the arrival of ‘Lucky’ Israel to collect his fresh cream cakes. The Wardens did not call. So, I gave the two expensive boxes of cream cakes to Carer Israel when he made his last call. He was tickled pink. 
Best not to waste them.

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WORRADAY!
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Keep Warm, Safe, sane and Happy!
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