Now he’s gone in hospital – Oh, dearie me!
Monday 6th April 2020
Filipino: Lunes Ika-6 ng Abril 2020
02:50hrs: Grumpily, I stirred into semi-consciousness. And waited for the brain to do its best to catch up. It took a while. Then it was not exactly fully-functioning. Rather in odd bursts of recognition, intermingled with annoying episodes of extreme vagueness; with dips in willpower hidden-away in there somewhere.
As I endeavoured to free my even-more-grossly weighty stomach and torso from the £300, second-hand recliner, it became apparent that the innards were not suffering from any such incapacitating disabilities as the brain was. The turmoil and sudden pains from the borborygmus-churning stomach, sent me to the wet room, in some haste.
I entered, put the stick where I could not trip over it later, dropped the jammie-bottoms, and got seated on the Porcelain Throne. Argh! The agony and effort needed to start things off was a painful surprise. Humph! However, once the movement moved, it was soon all over. But, what a messy evacuation it was! I had to flush twice. As I was cleaning things up ready for the medicalisationing, I spotted that the removed substance had still not been cleared from the WC!
I got myself in a mini-pickle then. And made a harrowing mistake. I ended up treating Little Inchies fungal lesion with Daktacort, and I broke off from this, to pour some water from the sink down the bowl to free the obstruction. When I returned to the medicating and used Harold Haemorrhoid’s Hydrocortisone Topical cream on the lesion! Yes, it stung! Equally as painful was cleaning it off and re-applying the Daktacort again! Blasticulisations!
Surely not another frustrating day on the way for me? What a daft question!
No weird mind-talking or messages from my EQ came? I Olive-oiled the ear-holes, rubbed some Phorpain gel in Arthur Itis’s knees, cleaned the spectacles. As and as a final act of insanity, I stubbed my right middle toes on the edge of the door as Neuropathy Nigel gave the leg a little shake. Silent caterwauling and ululations! Haha!
Although with the shaking taking place, this meant the message of the injury did not get to the brain, thanks to Nicodemuses Neurotrammitters failure, which at the time was great. Of course, the word will get through later, when I’m not expecting it. Thus it will feel worse then, and it confuses me more!
I wonder if someone would like to write a book about Peripheral Neuropathy? I could help them with some unknown to the Doctor’s effects, hassles, pains, accidents, facts, fears, and emotions involved? No better not ask, not until the Coronavirus is under control anyway. I’m supposing I’ll live through it, and long enough to co-write the book? Perhaps Lynton Cox might be interested? No, maybe not!
Where was I? Oh, yes, I put some TCP ointment on the toe, and enigmatically, I thought too! I put a tissue with the cream on, around the end of the walking stick, and used that to apply it. Cunning eh?
People don’t understand the struggle for everyday existence some old farts (like wot I am) have to go through. Hehehe!
Got the medications taken, tea made and off to the computer to do the updating. Things had calmed down in the nerve-ends failing department, and getting this updating done was soon finished off. Smug-Mode-Adopted!
I went on Pinterest. Then the TFZer Facebooking. Next, the WordPress Reader. Then off to get the ablutions tended to. I had a stand-up wash again, cause I feared not hearing the intercom or door chime with the shower running. I left the door open, so I could listen to if anyone arrived. As if anyone would when I wanted them and was ready for them! Tsk! Amazon should be arriving. I’m waiting for the volunteer from Golden Help to ring. Gawd its frustrating! Made even worse when I checked the intercom, I had four missed calls on it! I am pissed-off again! We’ve told everyone about the buzzer on the intercom from the first day, that is is not loud enough, but do they do owt? Sod all! And we have to suffer the consequences. Phooey and Harrumph! I hope I die of starvation and frustration… No, you fool, that won’t bother them! Tsk! Klutz! If I get another stroke, I shan’t bother recovering. The hassle is just too much!
Anyroad, I went to get the ablutions done. A decent session overall.
- A handful of dropsies, nothing serious.
- Just the one cut shaving, no pain, easily stopped.
- No more toe stubbings.
- No walking into anything.
- Not knocking anything over.
I got the medicationalisationing done. The piles (again), phorpained the knees (again), and olive oiled the ear-holes (again). Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding, so I left things well alone.
With a certain amount of trepidation, I began the task of battling the sock-glide, then I chickened out, and put on a pair of short, wide bamboo socks on instead, manually.
A shame really, cause I’d been doing so well. I leant against the sink with my back, heaved up the tree-trunk, fluid-filled left leg, reached down, Neuropathic Nigel decided to give me a wobble of the right leg, and over I went. But not straight onto the floor, oh, no, that would be too simple for me! I fell on the bowl of water I’d washed the feet in earlier! It’s not often I want to cry, but this was such an occasion!
I don’t know how long it took me to clean everything up. I launched into a sort of pathetic, sorry-for-myself, and a super-brooding session matured! However, it didn’t last long, I don’t know why, though?
I got the room sorted a bit, made a pot of porridge for a late brekkers, and brew of tea, and back onto the computer. But the oatmeal only brought back my concerns about all the things and people who were supposed to be coming last weekend and or today. Naturally, none of them had arrived – unless they did and could not gain access, cause the intercom is not loud enough for me to here! Mind you, I and others can’t the fire alarm either. This sent me down a peg or two in the confidence stakes, and up, several points in the depression department. And, did you notice how much porridge was in the pot? Humph!
I tried to cheer myself up by doing some graphic creations on CorelDraw. It was going reasonably well, too.
Then an Email notification flashed up on the screen. I compared the new Coronavirus figures (Red) with yesterdays.
Over 6000 more total UK cases. 30 more in Nottingham. UK cases from 41,903 Sunday, today 47,806. Oh, dear!
I went and got the veg prepared and in the saucepan on low heat. Only parsnips, onion and mushrooms left now. I put the last two tomatoes in and made some gravy and added it. This way, the last boil-in-the bag onion gravy braised beef can be had later and mixed in together.
It’s getting afternoon now. No contact from the phlebotomy nurse (plenty of time yet, though), Amazon, or by McChrystal’s. The Golden Volunteers have not got in touch yet either. I was hoping they would get me the food parcel and have sorted out how I can pay at the Haydn Road shop, but the poor devils are overrun with orders.
So, after today, I’ll be digging into the freezer and cupboards for food. I’m nowhere near out of food. I will not go further into debt, and abuse the help Jenny has given me. Everything is confusing and frustrating at the moment, but it must be for so many others as well! I’ll try to get an order in again somewhere. Hang on a bit…
Never mind, then.
Ah, going through the Amazon tracking orders, and the landline burst and flashed forward. I hoped it would be the Golden Volunteer about the food parcel, but no, it wasn’t.
Even betterer, it was the Vampiress, blood nurse Hristina! (It’s spelt that way in Polish, but sounds as Christina) She will be calling in the morning to take my blood and get my BP up! Hahaha! Now I was boosted in spirits! I cheered enough, to go for a wee-wee, then make a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea, stir the vegetables, and got the saucepan on for the braised beef.
I had a look outside, to see if the energetic little black dog was out on a walk. He or she wasn’t, but I spotted a chap walking his little black dog.
And then a man and woman walking their three little dogs. I’m afraid they were not keeping to the recommended socialising distance, though.
Naughty Nottinghamians!
Ah, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ chimed out from the doorbells. I really thought that it was either McChrystal’s or Amazon with some food. But No! It was Josie, returning the dinner accoutrements. She appreciated and enjoyed the meal anyway, and that cheered me up.
Put the trays and things away, and back to try again to do some graphics. The phone came to life again.
Aha! It was a lady from Nottingham City Council, about a food parcel. She told me that DG did a food parcel delivery. I embarrassingly said to her that I had looked at their service on the web, but all the box’s had food that I was not allowed in them. I did not trust myself to buy one, because the temptation to eat what I shouldn’t, like brassica, would possibly be too strong. Then I would be in trouble with the Warfarin levels going all over the place again. I can’t remember everything that was agreed on. But again, someone is going to call me about help with the shopping. I’m flummoxed, cause someone was going to do this today; unless it was the lady who called? She asked a lot of questions, and I had Stuttering Stephanie having a go at me. Humph!
I checked on the Amazon trackers one more time. At least I’ve got tea, Marmite, porridge nuts, and eventually, milk on the way.
I got the nosh prepped and served. Braised beef with the vegetables and gravy. The wholemeal bread thins I’d taken out of the freezer, had hard edges all around them. Not nice at all, I binned them. Hey-ho! 
Bit of slip-up when pouring the gravy from the pouch into the bowl of vegetables, mind! A lot of it ended up on the tray, counter-top, cupboard doors and my jammie-bottoms! By the time I’d got it cleaned up, the meal was barely warm. So I left the other washing up and got down to devour it. It was passable, a rating of 5/10.
I then got the washing up sorted out, and with a tormenting mind, I settled to watch some TV. Anything with subtitles. Can’t even remember what I was staring blankly at, at the Thought-Storms persevered.
Again, it was late by the time I nodded off.
02:05hrs: I stirred from my slumber, feeling sedentary, reluctant to move. Jejune thoughts came and went; the brain didn’t want disturbing with anything too important. Nor in the least bit like any conscientious physical or mental activity! The maundering mind mused over puerile irrelevant facts and figures for awhile. The eyelids were heavy, and Borborygmus rumblings and gentle but scarily bubbly-sounding emissions of wind started in unison!
Off to the wet room, got the stick out of the way, and plumped down on the throne. It was hard-going, but I forced the activity along. I wish I hadn’t now – the pain! One unpleasant mess to clear-up and medicate afterwards. The whole nine-yards of hassle to deal with this morning. What a start to the day! 
However, I reckon that the pins (legs) were looking betterer than they were yesterday! There was undoubtedly hardly any hassle from Arthur Itis this Monday morning. Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald were making up for this, though. The stabbing pains from Ann, and the dull droning aches from Donald. As I left the wet room, limping a little, the toe was still a bit tender, I took care in case any dizzies, or loss of balance came on, not to use the stick too close to the right leg. What am I saying? I get them every day! Every hour, or less sometimes! Stop being splenetic Inchcock! (“Okay, Sorry!”) I think the pins will soon be looking healthy again.
To the kitchen, where I was pleased to find I had not left any taps running, fridge door open, or parts of the stove left on! I got the kettle on and took a photographicalisation of the morning view. Made the brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and off to the computer to get the Sunday Diary updated. 
I took a break, had a wee-wee, of the WUPT (Weak-Unwilling-Painful-Trickling) so very slowly, variety. 
On the computer again. I had a check on the Amazon bits progress for today. Nothing crucial, each one a bit of a treat actually.
I got the chips in the oven and checked the vegetables in the Crock-
I did the washing up, took the medications and opened the three bits from Amazon. The salt & vinegar flavoured seaweed snack pack (Not tried yet), six packets of Japanese style seaweed crispies (delicious!), and the Moores Hickory Marinade (Very costly!) I’ll ask on the TFZer Facebook if anyone knows how to use this Marinade.
I put the boxes behind the £300, second-hand, grottily beige-coloured, c1968, not working, uncomfortable, falling to pieces recliner. 
23:25hrs: Up, got my balance and off to the Porcelain Throne. Nothing happened! Plenty of wind escaping, but that was all. To the kitchen to make a brew and take the medications. To the computer to do some graphic page tops to use.
Made a start on this post. Not feeling in the least bit confident and a self-loathing was building up. I was generally emitting a sort of nervous timorousness. Another sudden change, same as yesterday? I’m feeling whacked out, wan, and weary! 
Finally, I got cleaned up and around to doing the teggies and shaving. The session had not exactly had the least dropsies and injuries! Dropped the toothbrush, then the razors (3), had a decent hard-to-stop-bleeding cut on the side of the head shaving, too! 
However, contrastingly, on the other hand, for a nice change, the battle with the Sock-Glide was Accifauxpa and injury-free! Exceeding one’s expectations! Whee-ha! 
out to the shops to buy some olive oil for the ears, anti-Saccades-Sandra eye-drops, and call at the dentist, to rebook again! But no! Of course not! Grumph!
I thought I’d get the kitchen floor mopped-up, Fool! Halfway-through, I started to clean the electric fire hearth? 
I took some black bags and put them down the chute on the way down. In the Woodthorpe link corridor door window, I espied a chap through the window. It looked like he was driving his possibly petrol-powered ancient four-wheeled disabled person perambulator? 
Hehehe!
There was no time to take many photographs. I had a lot of places to visit.
managed to get to the flats, with heavy eyelids. 
As I walked through the link-passage through Windwood Court. d 
I got the fodder out alongside the prescriptions and checked them through. The mushrooms have a lot of peat bits on them, but that’s just how Asda (Walmart) are. 
A check of the receipts next. I thought the £4 from Boots for 100ml of ear wax was excessive, but then again it is not what I wanted, pure olive oil, This’s something else. 
Back to the nosh. (I keep getting side-tracked today!) The overall rating for flavour was 7/10. The mushrooms and leeks were grand! The anchovies had tiny soft bones in them, and not many were nibbled for that reason. The cheap fish sticks were unexpectedly pleasantly tasty! The black tomatoes were the best tasting I’ve ever had. Mmm! The chicken thighs were left alone after one nibble and binned. The beetroot and Marmite cheese disc were fine. 
An artistic cross had been implanted on my left knee. By the underside of the different tray, that I had used to eat the nosh off of. Hahaha! And I noticed that I had still got the short bamboo socks on! Getting them off was no mean feat! 
00:30hrs: I stirred and passed wind, the gurgling, bubbling and churning from the innards, convinced me to rise and get to the Porcelain Throne with some haste. 
The visit to the wet room proved a total failure, despite the gurgling from within, and escapages of wind, there was no movement whatsoever. Still, I got a couple of answers on the crossword done. Haha! 
Off to the kitchen, got the kettle on and sorted out the hanging to dry washing. I did note that the shirts seemed to have regained some of their original colour, (All bar the expensive brown thin one, that changed to green!) which initially baffled me a bit. Then I recalled that I’d used the Woolite liquid I bought so cheaply from the Bargain Shop.
A glance at the bottle labels, and I noted it claimed to Revive Colours of darks. Blimey, a product claim that is true and works! Well, I never! I bet when I can get back to the store to get some more, it’ll have sold out! It’s bound to, my luck ain’t that good! Hahaha!
As I took the tea back to the computer, I saw that I had gained some more bruises on the arm this time. What causes this, which of the ailments are to blame is another mystery of my beloved Woodthorpe Court. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the spacetime continuum. With Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, illusions, delusions, and hallucinations, rife. Amongst my vague, palaverous, chimerical, inconsequential, torturous fight for existence! Back to the bruising. I looked up what might cause them: Medications that cause easy bruising, include Warfarin, Thrombosis, and Clopidogrel; Huh! I’ve got ’em all! So it should be expected to bruise easily. Which I do. There you are, at last, I’ve found something I’m good at! Gasconade Moment Enjoyed!
Made a brew, and took some leaflets back to the computer with me. In a vain hope to get some clues as to which tablet is which. 
The non-activity from the rear-end, might be partly through my having tried the Halloumi Fries, from Iceland last night? They were not cheap at £3 for 190g, but something told me they might taste good, and they did! According to the label, the only content was Halloumi Cheese? I looked it up and found it contains 
As I went to get some mushrooms and leeks into the crock-pot ready to put on when I go out later, Toothache Tim and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley both kicked off! I put some light soy sauce and red sea salt in with the food – now all I have to dop is remember to put in on a low-setting, and turn on the pot as I leave the flat. Are you offering any odds on my not forgetting? 
Down in the lift and walked along Chestnut Way, no raining, and it didn’t feel too cold, by the time I got to the end of the road and turned down Winchester Street, the pavement was again blocked by vehicles. So, more of the risky, life-threatening as I had to go on the road to get by. Harumph!
They will contact me to arrange an appointment, and put me on a weekly ‘training’ course, locally, for 19 weeks.
I limped slowly, deep in thought, then along to the Lidl Store. Not many customers about this morning. I got inside and had a meander around, looking for bargains or some tasty-looking treats. I resisted the temptation of looking at the cream cakes, for those are a definite no-no from now on, I think.
Crossed over the road and made my way up to the L9 bus stop. Where I was greatly cheered to see Margaret and Doris amongst others, sat there at the shelter. I mentioned the diagnosis. Someone said: “Your not the luckiest of buggers are you?” Nayer a truer word spoken mate! Margaret, with her deadpan delivery, soon had me laughing as we nattered on. Bless her! 
building, Generalfeldmarschalless Warden and desk-top dancer Julie opened the fire door to remind me to get the key-fob done. 
The fob was soon done, then I made my way back to the flat through the link-passageway. During which, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley enjoyed herself with a rather intense bit of quagswagging.Not for long, though. I got to the Woodthorpe Court lift lobby, and into the cage, and up to the flat, without seeing anyone whatsoever.
The first job, I got some parsnips chopped and in the pan simmering with some sea-salt. 
With temporary, unthinking, casual aplomb, I rose from the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, up onto my feet, and got a reaction from Arthur Itis’s knees, well one knee, the right one. I was soon back down in the recliner, holding the knee as mentioned above, and squinching with the pain. Fortunately, past experiences had made me keep a tube of the Fenbid Forte pain gel on the Ottoman. I liberally applied a dollop of to the patella. Then more slowly this time, I got to my feet, things were a lot calmer with the leg now, grabbed the four-pronged stick, and started to move towards the kitchen. 
I checked out the blister-packs of tablets that arrived five-days late and forcing me to miss so many doses; from Carrington Pharmacy, 
I made the brew and took this mornings dosages. Ear-holes oiled, Saccades-Sandra drops put in, etc. all done. 
I’d love to get out and about again. But today, the Morrison order, the window cleaner and a chance of Leoni coming from the NHS Medicines Team (I hope Leoni does visit, then I can tell her of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Their late prescriptions and the Furesomide not being put separately as they had promised they’d be done!) Bitter? Me? Yes! And I still want to see the Doctor, (I will ask for some Anxiolytics, tell her about the dizzies and falling over, and hopefully other stuff if I can find the list I made two months ago), and I have to see the Bank Manager. Still bitter? Me? Yes! Well, pissed-off anyway!
Another interesting event! A record amount of dropsies I think this morning. Toothbrush, toothpaste, toothbrush pot, shaving foam can (2), razors (5), 
There’s a thought, I wonder if the Tate Gallery would be interested in some photos of… No, no, No! My Delphic nature and self-confidence are at a low enough level already, thank you.
I got them unpacked and checked the things out with the list from the internet.
Something, scheme, decision, plan, or flimflam-stratagem was formulating, brewing inside my head as I put away the fodder. But the brain wasn’t letting on to me what it was! Well, that how it is when you have a high EQ and the lowest IQ. Hopefully whatever is maturing in the head, will reveal itself shortly.
I must try to do some of the smoked haddock for tonight’s nosh. I already had some normal mushrooms in the fridge, so I got them in the crock-pot cooking. I might have them with the haddock, potatoes and garden peas, perhaps. It depends on when the window cleaner arrives. 
I got to the lift lobby and was just about to press the call button, and both head-lights went out indicating the death of the elevators! Well, if that doesn’t represent my unfortunate nature, I don’t know what will. Humph! Then it dawned on me, today is the upgrading work by the Mansells Fire Sprinkler team. Ah, well! A touch of pragmatism had attached itself to me, and no-hassle or annoyance rose at all. 
23:25hrs: I bestirred reluctantly and was feeling terribly depressed, confused, and uncomfortably disorientated. The immediate problem was my uncertainty of whether or not I had really lost the blister-pack of medications. How had I got things so wrong as to run-out of beta-blockers, water-tablets, and Simvastatin amongst other important tablets? A lack of self-confidence and self-hatred came through to join the worries and fears for me to stew over. I actually felt sick, not physically, but inside. No help yet either, and this after two tablet-less days! 
And despite the rumbling innards, it was a most decent session. The dropsies were no more than four, no shaving cuts, toe-stubbings, or banging into or knocking anything over. Why even the sock-glide battle failed to produce any blood-blisters, bruises or blood! The EQ warned me not to get too excited, though? This brought the Panic-Depression-Defcon back to Three. Hehehe!
The pins looked pretty good, got some colour back as well. Fair enough, they are a little fluid retaining at the moment. 
bags to the waste chute on the way out. I’ll see ILC, Ballet-Dancer, Hauptsturmfuhreress Warden Deana, to see if she had found anything out from the Chemist or Bank from me. 
I plodded through the link-corridor into Winwood Court and made my way to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) Interrogation and Body Search Office. All three gals were in there today.
22:20hrs: I stirred into imitation life instantly panicking! I was being bombarde
I got in the kitchen, but of course, there were no blisters of medications available for me to take. So I rooted through the medical drawer in search of any old tablets to take. I had plenty of Warfarin, some paracetamol and found some old Simvastin and Ramipril that I took, but they were both well out of date, but still, what 
choice did I have. I found two beta-blockers that were even more out of use-by-date and took one. 
Then the stand-up ablutions tended to. Again there were a good few dropsies, cuts, bleeding and a couple of knocks when the peripheral neuralgia gave me an energetic involuntary performance of a Neuropathic Schuhplattler, flail-about dance! I’d say the Sock-Glide struggle was a draw. A couple of little nicks shaving. After the washing was all done, I set about applying Daktacort, Germoloid, Savlon, Corticosteroid, Varesil creams and Fenbid-Forte gel. Eye-wash, nasal-unblocker and Saccades Sandra spray. Good job I started the scrub-up earlier than usual! 
I got the handwashing done and hung to dry. The new long-sleeved brown t-shit was washed for the first time – and it is now black! Still, it is thicker and warmer, although far shorter than the expensive one. Maybe if I’d ordered black shirts, they might have turned brown when I washed them? Hehehe! The delights of Amazon, eh!
I got the taxi monies in the pocket with my super G8 mobile. Treats put in the trolley and made my way down with the hopes of Deana being able to assist me with my problems of the bank, and the prescriptions. Or rather lack-of medications, by phone for me, so I do not mishear, anything said.
I took the black bags to the waste chute on the way down. In the lift, to the ground floor, thought the link passage swipe door and along to the end and the Independent Living Coordinators holding and interrogation office. Dropped off the box and knocked on the door, no answer. So, back up to get my coat on, but I forgot to put my hearing aids in. I decided to go back up again, to drop off the trolley and put in the aids, then. This I did, and down again.
When we arrived back at Winwood Court, the two gals dropped me of (I was assisted out of the taxi by Gaynor!) and shot off to the Sherwood for the drinkies. I had to make my way to the ILCs office to try and find out what had taken place concerning the pharmacist. But no one was in, they had probably gone to the ST Anns block already. My stomach churned a bit with frustration and not knowing if the prescriptions will be coming today or not! Off course, Deana may have tried to ring me, but we all turned off our mobiles for Mo’s service of course. Then again, she (Deana) is a busy gal. 
Got the nosh ready. I should have enjoyed it, but with the worry over the medications, I didn’t. Rating 5/0. 
23:50hrs: I woke, pondered, tried and failed to get the mind functioning, passed-wind and realised (as is so frequent at my vivification times lately), the need for a wee-wee was my 
While waiting for the dribble to terminate, I mused over the situation. If after five minutes of non-stop passing, I’d managed only a couple of fluid ounces; then how many times had I needed to get up and to have utilised the GPWWB overnight, to find it so full now? And, why do I not remember waking, getting up, wee-weeing, and getting my grossly-stomached body back in or onto the rickety recliner? Mind you, I did wonder why I found that I’d had left the walking stick on top of the clothes airer? 
Then, as I was washed and about to leave the wetroom, and it’s even harder for me to believe, but I spotted the camera lens cover that I had searched in the wet room for, four times to find last night! This is also worrying. Let’s look back over the last week, at the cock-ups from Inchcock
oil in the tab-holes, and noticed I had not taken the medications, last night, nor this morning! So, I imbibed them. Then used the Phorpain gel on Arthur Itis’s knees. Put cortisone cream on the cracked lips, and made another brew of the Thompsons tea. Then sanitised, cleaned and stored the grey bucket un
Once again, I heard the rumbling noise, this time I knew it was coming from outside, or at least I believed so. I got the Nikon and leant out of the window, and taking it blind to see if anything untoward could be spotted that may have caused the sound that I heard. The new unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking, thick-framed new kitchen windows, have been built with a hanging-out too far out ledge, that means unless you are young and fit or a contortionist, you cannot look out and down for ambulances, fire engines whatever, like one could with the old windows. But, never mind. Anyway, I could not see anything about that might have been the source of the noise.
Extra today for her. 
limoncello dessert to round it off. I got it on the wheeled-server and delivered the meal on a tray to Josie’s door. 
A quick natter and back top the flat, to get my own nosh prepared. Wholemeal bun sarnies with German smoked Ham and lots of naughty butter, chips (fries), cooked beetroot and sliced apple. The gifted by Josie custard tart, and a mini-bottle of fresh orange juice. Another decent tasting meal this time, an 8.2/10 flavour rating. 
