Sunday 31st May 2020
Icelandic: Sunnudaginn 31 Maí 2020
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0:00hrs: I’d just got the Saturday blog done and posted off when midnight arrived.
Sleep has been unavailable, none-existent all night. But now, after setting up this template, I will try again, I need some rest. Why I could not get off earlier is a mystery. Maybe the sudden hot weather, or the day I had yesterday? Everything that happened reminded me of my bad fortunes and luck. I was grumpy with myself and got annoyed and irritable most of the time. Carping in the brain, moaning, cantankerously belly-aching, whining on, and wingeing and ended up boring myself!
Well, at least I got things shut down, and settled my corpulent, boing-boinging bellied body into the second-hand, £300, c1968, puckeringly-beige-coloured recliner, without any injuries.
I’d half-hoped to get off to kip sharpishly, but no. I turned the TV on, that often helps me fall asleep. Especially if some programme comes on, that I want to watch. But insomnia prevailed. I just lay there trying to stop the thought-storming, for ages, hours!
05:15hrs: I bestirred, the main expergefactor being the need for a wee-wee. Out of the recliner, and to the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket) SWOT (Sprinkly-Weak-Orange-Tinged), mode. Took the container with me to be cleaned and sanitised. An out-of-the-blue need for the Porcelain Throne was tended to, and a flipping good job I was in the wetroom at the time. Else I never would have made it in time to the Throne! Phew!
Not messy, or gooey, but keenly-painful (they all are nowadays!)
Disappointingly, as I opened the kitchen window, I realised by the wonderful petrichor, I’d missed the rain. The ground outside was not soaking wet, so it must have been a short shower of sorts. But it left a beautiful whiff in the air! A bit colder this morning too.
Made a brew, medications taken, and after another quick wee-wee, the sphygmomanometerisationing commenced. Sys was back up a smidge, and the thermometer read 32.9°c (91.2°f) which is, I think, healthier than it’s been for a while. That is if I remembered the way to convert from Celsius to Fahrenheit. Ended up using Google) My arithmophobia doesn’t help. Nor the discovered too late to counter it, dyscalculia. Sad, innit? But, I had to laugh when they told me about it, it brought to mind Dracula! Hehehe!
For some unknown reason, typing this, reminded of the Dr in the cardiac unit, in the City Hospital. I know I had been given some pre-transplant drugs, but it seems soundly entrenched in my memory – I hope it’s true and not a dream I’d had. A Mr someone or other was going to observe the procedure.
The surgeon came to the bed and told me about this Consultant who was on his way to see me. “We are holding back your other pre-op meds, in case he wishes to speak with you!” “I’ll be back with him later, Mr Chaplin”. I mentioned my name was Chambers. Minutes later, Dr Khandowa introduce me to the Consultant as Mr Chamberlain! I recall thinking: “Gawd-blimey, and he’ll be replacing my ticker in an hour!” Hahaha! He did a good job though.
The assistant who put the metal strips through the ribcage to reseal it afterwards, whoever he was, had put them in, as the nurses said when they came to take them out days later ‘Tighter than we have ever seen them done before! I had never had pain like it before, even when I got shot. The nurse was sat on my legs heaving and puffing to pull the metal strips out. One nurse kept spraying liquid Morphine in my mouth throughout the job. Through it all, I have a distinct, pleasurable occasion though… But of course, once the metal tubing was removed, the nurse had to get off of me and the bed! Shame!
I waffled there again, I beg your pardon.
Then, after one more wee-wee, of a different calibre this one. A SWAT, (Sprinkly-Weak-Apricot-Tinged) configuration. I then made a brew of Thompsons Punjabi, and went on CorelDraw and Paint to make up some urgently–needed graphics for later use.
But plans were again cocked-up. No doubt prompted by the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?
At least this time, it only lasted for a few minutes, then came back on of its own accord.
Started again on the graphicalisationing. Three hours later, I was feeling real-weary, and not got o very well with the graphic making. For one, not from the ailments, just from the tired worn-outness. I must get some sleep in, this lack of sleeping is getting farcical. Just to point out one problem its causing; as I wrote ‘farcical’, I thought of a more suitable word, then cleared farcical from the blog, and forgot what the word was I was going to replace it with! So, I put ‘Farcical back in. I down know whether to laugh or cry! Yes, I do! Hahaha!
I rang Sister Hane to ask about Pete, and blow me he was back at home again! He’s to go back in for the biopsy tomorrow. The chap in the ward with him is having chemo and told Pete of the problems with it. I lost the signal while talking. I rang back on the landline, but it doesn’t-half cost to call mobiles on it. Despite all the Up-in-the-Airness of things with the hospital, Pete sounded okay and accepting of things until he gets the job done, and analysis later. His spirits seem reasonably high. Good for him. I’ll have a look at the City Hospital with the binoculars tomorrow, see if I can see him. Hehe! Jane and Pete told me I could go out from tomorrow. But I won’t go without a mask. I’ll check the Government statement later.
A few minutes late, the door chimes rang out the ♫ I only want to be with you! ♫ tune. It was Josie, to let me know she was going out with her Nephew, to celebrate his birthday. I wished her all the bestest, but I felt a little concerned she was going out, so soon.
The Nikon camera battery was flat, so I got the Canon to take a photo of the Puff-Puff clouds, and that was flat, in fact, it was dead! I cunningly got out the old Lumix, thinking it might have enough power left in its battery. I didn’t. So, I’ve now got all three on charging. And if I want to watch telly later, the computer will have to come off. I’m such a lucky-bugger. Hair-brained, too!
I got the nosh prepared. I hope I can stay awake long enough to enjoy it. With virtually no sleep for such a long time, I feel confident of dropping off. But, hopefully, not before I want to. Worra life, innit! Into the kitchen to take the meds and prepare the meal.
I remembered about looking at the latest can-do again things Jane mention. So I got the computer back on for a look:
Vulnerable people in England and Wales advised to stay home since the coronavirus lockdown began will be able to go outdoors again from Monday. This change means people will be able to go out with members of their household. Those living alone can meet with someone from another household while maintaining social distancing. Support for shielders, such as food and medicine deliveries, will continue.
Those shielding should not go out to work, to shop or visit friends in their homes. Around 2.5 million UK people were advised to stay at home as lockdown began because they were identified as being at particularly high risk of needing hospital treatment for coronavirus symptoms. Most were notified by their GP. The list of people who should be shielding includes, Clinically extremely vulnerable people may include the people listed below, though disease severity, history or treatment levels will also affect who is in this group.
- Solid organ transplant recipients. (Ah, I’m in here!)
- People with specific cancers:
- people with cancer who are undergoing active chemotherapy. (Nope not me!)
- people with lung cancer who are undergoing radical radiotherapy. (Nope not me!)
- people with cancers of the blood or bone marrow such as leukaemia, lymphoma or myeloma who are at any stage of treatment. (Nope not me!)
- people having immunotherapy or other continuing antibody treatments for cancer. (Nope not me!)
- people having other targeted cancer treatments which can affect the immune system, such as protein kinase inhibitors or PARP inhibitors (Nope not me!)
- people who have had bone marrow or stem cell transplants in the last 6 months, or who are still taking immunosuppression drugs (Nope not me!)
- people with cancer who are undergoing active chemotherapy. (Nope not me!)
- People with severe respiratory conditions including all cystic fibrosis, severe asthma and severe chronic obstructive pulmonary (COPD). (Ah, I’m in here!)
- People with rare diseases that significantly increase the risk of infections (such as severe combined immunodeficiency (SCID), homozygous sickle cell). (Nope not me!)
- People on immunosuppression therapies sufficient to significantly increase the risk of infection. (No idea what this means!)
- Women who are pregnant with significant heart disease, congenital or acquired. (Nope not me!)
People in this group should have been contacted to tell them they are clinically extremely vulnerable.
Some scientists have expressed concerns about England’s easing of lockdown rules while infection rates remain at around 8,000 per day according to the Office for National Statistics. “Many of us would prefer to see the incidence down to lower levels before we relax measures,” said Professor John Edmunds, from the London School of Tropical Hygiene and Medicine and one of the government’s top advisors. “Covid-19 is still spreading too fast to lift lockdown in England,” tweeted Jeremy Farrar, director of the Wellcome Trust.
It’s all confusing to me!
Back to gerrin’ some nosh prepared and eaten. The five-beans in vinegarette were pretty tasteless and bland, despite my adding Hickory and Balsamic vinegar while heating them up. Most disappointing, because it said they were in vinegar, I felt certain they would be delicious and bought four cans! Huh! Three to get rid off.
As for the other stuff, they were all okay. The seedless grapes, this time from Egypt, were a lot less sweet than the Indian ones, but this was alright with me. The sourdough muffins were well Marmited and went well with everything else. I soon satiated my hunger, cleaned the pots, thought about having a shave, but felt so tired I rejected the idea. (Which will probably mean more bleeding when I have to shave so much stubble off in the morning, Tsk!)
I got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, and events seemed to have been lost into the ether. I can remember nothing else, until waking in the morning? And, I got about 6½ hours kip in!
Must have been triederer than I thought. Hehehe!
02:30hrs: I woke, the brain caught me up, and the sound of the annoying ‘Hum’ all around was a bit louder than of late – but, no time for that – Wee-wee-William was wanting to be freed! 
As 
I got the kettle on. The pot is near the air-vent on the wall that kept falling off, and the wind howling in when I first arrived at the flat. (See Photo right!) A fitter came to have a look at it (in 2016, I think) and booked me in for call two-months later for someone to tackle the problem. A young man arrived as planned to tell me it has been cancelled due to an emergency. ‘Fair enough’, I said, ‘can’t be helped’. I got a letter a week later rebooking the job, for a date three weeks later. A different young man arrived, had a look and soon set about with his foam filler, and plugged the hole. I thanked him, and off he shot, and I went shopping. But it doesn’t bother me! 
Made the brew, did the medicalisationing. The sys had crept back up a bit. The pulse, too, but I think it’s within the range. But it doesn’t bother me! 
book out. But things fooled me, all of a sudden, things moved of their own accord… I had visions of my body being found, split into two halves! Blimus, the most hurtful evacuations ever! But it doesn’t bother me! 
It was the Iceland driver, bless him, he kept trying to ring, but there was no response to the accept button, and the screen did not show anything or any voices heard. I gt a jacket on, to rush down (rush? hahaha! I am a fool!). But the door chimed out, someone had let the bloke in. He told me that a colleague of his could not get in earlier either! As I said, what next? The lad left the stuff near the door and shot off, he didn’t look too happy, and I don’t blame him. 
Then back on Cameron, starting this post off. After three hours or so, and the same amount of SFRTFC (Strong-Forceful-Reluctant-To-Finish-Cloudy) wee-wees, I got one of the Rocket Sours iced lollies from the freezer, and started to suck it vigorously! 
I went arse-over-tip on the first step over the raised door gliders! And what a kerfuffle! 
I went for a drink of orange juice, the evening horizon looked worthy of photographicalisationing, so I did! For some reason, this shot reminded me of a Clint Eastwood Italian Western.
To the kitchen, the light glowed on my plump but skinny limbed imitation-body. 
I wondered what I might have been doing during the night. 
I got the China mug of Thompsons Punjana tea made and sphygmomanometerised myself. The Sys had crept back up a smidge. 
There were a couple of shaving nicks
Now, I was feeling a little upbeat. But with my recor
Then I had an idea (It has been known before, although rare), for a funny ode about life and how I felt at the moment. So, I started creating it in CorelDraw with graphics. Four hours later, I got it finished and posted off. Here’s the link if you haven’t seen it yet folks: 
So, I got the sarnies made up, added some onions, gherkins, too many tomatoes (getting short on em now, I’ll ration them, Haha!) bread-thins sarnies with Sopocka, Marmite cheese and rice cakes. Taste: 7.2/10
My last photo was taken, as I did the washing up, and then settled in search of some sleep. 
02:15hrs: Having had a wee-wee-less sleep, I returned to the land of the imitational-living, in need of one. The toes, ankles and feet were not enamoured with my getting my overly stomach-burdened body
Which resulted in an embarrassing leakage en route. Saved by having the PPs on, from a severe ‘wetting of the wet room’, the wee-wee, was of a cloudy and pale SS (Short-Sharp) variety. Proper washing of specific areas, change of PPs, and off to the kitchen. (No indications of the heavy-duty Porcelain Throne being needed) 
Put Computer Connie in sleep mode, and got the ablutions started. 
By gum, it went well! Unbelievably so! No gum bleeding! Only two dropsies of the soap! No toothpaste or brush dropping! No, I say, No, Shaving cuts! Amazing! Shirley and Nicodemus both in an excellent calmed down mood.
Mind you, I can’t say the same about my attempt afterwards, to try and get the ankle support strap on! That was a failed, painful attempt. A short but discountenancing involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance had me over on the floor! Bungle-Grumplewuncks. Banged my back against the floor cabinet, and ever since, I’ve had back Back-Pain-Brenda giving me gip! 
The legs seem to be getting even more clear of the Clopidogrel inspired blobs and blotches. Not complaining, mind, just mentioning it.
Got the nosh made up, and on the tray. I wish I’d known how nice the skinless sausages were going to be, too late to add any to the Iceland order any now. Maybe not a bad thing, I’ve plenty of other sausage-based food in the fridge. 
02:00hrs: I woke in a confused state of mind, even had to concentrate on recalling where I was and what day was dawning! 
The damned ankle gave way, and I did a backwards tumble back into the recliner again! 
The next hour or so was not very pleasant, and most uncomfortable and taxing. The hobble to the wet room for the wee-wee and cleansing and medicating of the exsanguinating body parts. The wee-wee was an embarrassment in itself; As the blood came along with the evacuation, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters packed up, making things spray all over the place! Silver-Lining-Findings: None!
I had to do some graphics on CorelDraw, which I enjoy doing, even when they are urgently needed. 
I got the nosh sorted out and served up. The vegetables, fresh leeks and canned garden peas were perfect! The beef slices tasteless, the potatoes alright, the tomatoes nice, and the lemon mousse good. The extra gravy I made, was not so good, too bland, don’t know how I went wrong. Taste: 7.5/10, and that was just because the veg was delicious. 
03:55hrs: After a decent sleep (5 hours! Yes!) and not having a single interruption for a wee-wee (Good innit?), I slowly got my body assessed, and the brain joined me a few moments later, with the realisation that I needed a wee now, urgently! So, the usual persnickety struggle getting out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, uncomfortable, not working, rickety-recliner was performed (With a lot less bother and pain than usual, too. Oh, yes!), and fumbled my way to the wet room. 
This was a riskier business than expected. Walking was more challenging than it had been for many a month, if fact, since the stroke. The right ankle was weak when walking, and I was nervous about is giving way again, like it did yesterday. I took the ankle strap with me, to have a go at fitting it. No chance, too complicated for me, and overly painful manipulating it. Grumbleshaggles! Still, the SSWW (Short-Sharp-Wee-wee) went well enough.
I carefully made my way to the kitchen, made a brew of my beloved Thompsons Punjana tea. And did the health checks and took the morning medications. 
The sys was 144, Dia 69, Pulse 87, and temp 31.8°c (89.2f). That looks better to me. I took an extra painkiller, the feet, right ankle, and toes are a bit much to contend with at the moment! Glory be and praise the Lord, at least Arthur Itis’s knees were a lot easier today. Can’t win ’em all! ♫ Look on the bright side of life, bum
So, in agony after the hour’s worth of frustration and failure get the support-straps to fit, then finding it was too painful to wear, then going through more suffering in taking it off. And stubbing my poor old overgrown nailed toes against the edge of the wet room door as I exited! I was approaching the darkness again! 
Light at the End of the Tunnel Search Result: 
Eventually, I got started on with my ablutions. All went remarkably well. No teeth or gum bleeding! Only one shaving nick. The dropsies were only about six. All in all, a change of fortunes mayhaps? (No, you’re right!) 
returning, he had found a can of antiperspirant in the box and had come back to give it to me. Kind of him that! Thanks. After over an hour, I’d got the foods put away. 
I espied some dogs taking their owners for a walk, down in the bottom field below the tree copse. The little white and black dog had one hell of a loud bark on him! 
Jenny that I would be down soon to drop off the tissues. 
The hobbling was painful in the extreme, but okay with the use of the guide. Getting out through the door with the three-wheeler had to be done with care. I avoided any knocks and toe-stubbing. 
working. So, it was a while before it arrived.
lobby. 
01:30hrs: Well, I ought to be used to my last few vivifications being out of the ordinary, for various reasons. This morning was two-fold. Starting with the usual urgent need for a wee-wee, then getting free of the £300, second-hand, c1968, not working, cringingly beige-coloured, rusty, rickety recliner and without any Whoopsies or loss of balance! Got the stick and took a wee-wee in the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). The thing that shook me was it being an almost back to the standard style, a short, sharp painful evacuation, and the colour, a sort of battleship grey! 
nd got it sanitised and cleaned, ready for tonight’s episode of: ‘Inchcock and his variable, lethal to moderate, Wee-wees!’ Should I snuff it overnight, would someone please have the vet check pon what killed me. Hahaha! 
Later in the morning, I had a look at the only leaflet the hospital gave me regarding the vein problems. This led me to investigate on the internet. Peripheral Neuropathy (Got-it!), increases the chance of Thrombophlebitis (Got-it!), Deep vein Arterial Thrombosis (Got-it!), Spider veins (Got-’em), Superficial venous thrombosis (phlebitis) (Got-it!), Chronic venous insufficiency (CVI-Got-it!), Iliac, Femoral, Saphenous, Popliteal and Tibial vein problems (Got-them all!). All of which can cause Bacterial or Viral Infections (Got-it!-Little Inchy!) 
I poddled, in a slightly disconnected, uncoordinated state of mind, to the kitchen. I did the sphygmomanometer tests done. Sys 146, Dia 67, Pulse 79, Temperature was just reading ‘Low’. Odd how this works properly occasionally, then it goes back to just giving a low or high indication, again?
Onto the computer. Got the updating done for the Sunday blog. I checked the Emails and came across this gem to cheer me up further. Hahaha! 
room! Hahaha! How the razor got down there is a mystery, too. 
coming back I reckon. 
My plan was to sneak outside and take some photographs. Cunning eh? I got the bags down in the chute room and caught the elevator to ground zero, with the cardboard box and a bag. A woman who was waiting to get in socially distanced herself well from me. I went through the caretaker’s (Who were not there) passage and out to the bins. But the bins were not there. So I put them with other peoples waste and shut the door locked behind me, as I had a trolley-guided hobble, taking some photographs en route. 
I spotted a wonder of nature. Well, they are for me. Some Daisies near the workmen’s porta-cabins. 
I limped along until I was facing the main Winwood Court entrance, and took a photo of it. The only thing missing up until now for the pictures was people.
electric vehicle charging bay. Couldn’t see any connections linked to it. 
I took a long time, well, it felt like it, but the hassle and weakness seemed to settle down. I was confident enough to press on again. 
I hobbled to the far end of Chestnut Walk, and turned to take this wide shot, and guess what? 
Got the three-wheeled trolley-guide into the corner. I just sucked at the cut knuckle that I caught on the door frame doing it. Humph!
04:00hrs: I woke up, for about the twentieth time, in imperative need of another wee-wee. I was out of the £300, second-hand, rickety recliner swiftly. I caught my balance, grabbed the stick, and hobbled over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). 
I found the bucket, too full to risk using again. And miraculously, I carried the bucket, and the walking stick, to the wet room, and arrived in time to avoid any leakages en route! A certain amount of smugness was gleaned from this little victory! 
155, Dia 69, Pulse 72 and temperature showing as just ‘Low’. Sys reading is a bit high. 
Unflappably, I just put the computer in sleep mode, and went and got two black bags made up, and limped to the waste chute with them. Returned to the apartment, and looked in the fridge to decide what to have for me nosh later on. 
I gave up, turned everything off, and tended to making up my own dinner. 
Got the plastic plate piled up with pretty fodder, and poddled to the recliner to digest the decent looking pot-luck, potlatch. Overall Taste-Rating: 5/10. 
Got the washing up done, and nipped to the wet room for freshen up. I took this photo of the just above the belly button burn mark, I got last night, and recall taking it to make up a funny idea I had for a graphic. But blown if I can remember what my idea was now! Something about a black hole?
Many get-ups for a wee-wee again. Not easy having so many, in my physical state. I’m concerned that the walking stick ferrules will wear down to a frazzle! Hehehe! 
03:10hrs: I woke with a melee of mixed memories from the dreams I’d been having, floating about in my head. But they soon dissipated off into the ether. 
I’d scribbled endless reminders over several pages of the writing pad (not that I can remember doing so). Hundreds of words, with about ten of them readable! Humph! By all accounts, I had dreams all through the night, but working out what they were about was impossible. Although I was not surprised to identify the words chasing and chased. So annoying. Because for me to have bothered writing about them, they could well of been interesting and worth recording? Fangleklops! 
I got things cleansed, and spruced-up, and dropped the towel down by the WC. I bent down to pick it up. Which, in itself was a stupid thing to do, with the small picker-upperer hanging inches away on the seat-raiser, and not used! I fell forwards with a little encouragement from Dizzy Dennis and caught my tackle against the corner bar. Started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding! I had to go through the painful process of cleaning and medicating the lesion, and it was almost too much for me to cope with. AAArgh! Distinguableness!
And to think, a few minutes ago, I was moaning to myself because I couldn’t remember the dreams I’d had. I had to sit down for a minute or two. Changed the PP’s and medicated all delicate areas in need. The now getting thinner than ever, pins (legs) looked a lot better, at least. It’s a good job I accidentally bought the last pair of slippers a size too much. (Silver-Lining search result)
I got the kettle on and amassed the medicinal needs. The hemadynamometer readings were okay, I think, Sys 164, Dia 68, Pulse 77. The thermometer is still playing up and not showing any figures, just ‘Low.’ I got the medications taken, adding a Senna and took Macrogol drink (will I ever beat Constipation Konrad, Hehe!) Olive-oiled the ear-holes. Sprayed Saccades liquid in the eyes, and made a brew of Morrison Extra Strong Assam tea. 
I made a start on this blog. Then got the ablutions tended to, in case the mobile shop comes. The session went very well. 
On my way back to the foyer, some of the Nottingham City Homes lads, who restarted work this week, along with some Water Control chaps were working away.
I rushed about and got myself down in the lift with the old three-wheeler, and Steve the caretaker and some resident (I knew them but could not recall the names, as is usual for me) And greeted them, and a few people were scattered about at a safe distance waiting. They moved outside as 12:00hrs was approached. I still managed a bit of nattering again.
When the van came, at ten-past twelve, Roy, Betty and Lynne were waiting, and when the van opened up, they all kindly waved my forward to go first. Now, this might sound soppy, but I appreciated that a lot. The legs, feet and toes were all giving me some hassle, and Shaking Shaun was visiting now. Bless them! 
Bacon now baked, tomatoes sliced, cheese and two Marmite Riced cakes, and brown thins, a lemon mousse, medications and a mug of orange juice all got ready on the tray. Off to and on my knees and more-than-ample belly in the recliner. Flavour Rating; 8.5/10, it went down very well, my coenaculous, satisfied! 
Got the pots washed, had a wee-wee, washed and medicated, and back down in the uncomfortable, second-hand, c1968 recliner. Noticed the veins in the right leg, and thought it was fattening up, or filling up with fluid a smidge. Also, a fresh pinkish whatever was coming up on the foot. Fingers crossed that it is not the start of another leg ulcer. No itching or pain from it at all. 
03:25hrs: I stirred into a loose form of pretend-life, and recognised that the need for the Porcelain Throne was somewhat urgent. Without much thought or common sense, I attempted straight away, to remove my overly-stomached torso from the £300 second-hand recliner. 
A hard truth to put into understandable words, but I’ll try my bestest, such a lot of calamities came within seconds of each other. 
Off to take the medications and make a brew, and the letter that arrived last night was perused. 
Then, I realised I had not used the Cif 100% mould remover, I’d used Cif 100% Oven & Grill Remover! 
I made a brew and had a look outside. Some dogs walking their owners were about, so I got the camera to try and take a few shots. The dogs were a bit too lively for me to catch a photo of them with their owners.
As I checked on the potatoes in the slow-cooker, the intercom burst into life. It was the Amazon delivery of black bags and the electric tin (can) opener. I pointed rolled a can of G&T to the chap, and he was very pleased with it, and the genuine thanks I gave him. 
Having got the peas in the saucepan, I set about making up some black bags. The roll of sacks in my hand in this picture contained 200! 
Back up to get the nosh sorted. Very tasty. Flavour rating of 8.8/10, the potatoes that the Government had kindly given me in the food parcel, were excellent, slow-cooked with a drop of balsamic and malt vinegar added. The flavour soaked in well with using the crock-pot to sort of marinating.