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TUESDAY 2nd AUGUST 2022
07:20hrs: I burst back into the world of woes with the regulation jump, jerk and jabberwockies. Realising how late it was, I climbed out of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a tatty recliner, was on the way to unlocking the door for Carer Richard and I had to nip into the wet room.
The actual evacuation was even easier than the last three days or so. But messier, you can’t win them all.
It was the worry over the water flood in the room that spoilt my pleasure with the rare good Throne visit. The water does not seem to lessen at all overnight, and, I admit, it made me nervous to walk in the water to get to the sink for a stand-up wash and shave. I chickened out. Cowardy cowardly custard! I can remember a year or so ago when the drain stopped working, and my going in to get the ablutions done… Mostly I remember the walking stick slipping in the water and my falling and entangling myself with the sock glide. The cuts and bruises took ages to clear up.
Hopefully, the maintenance will arrive today to have a look at the shower problem. I hope so because I must be ponging a bit by now, going showerless for so long. I’ve just had a sniff… Yep!
Arrived, and I’d forgotten again to unlock the door for him. He was in a rush this morning, so very little nattering was allowed. A inquired about his getting some sleep, but he was down in the mouth as he told me of the 24-hour gas works outside where he lives still drilling away and partiers making a racket again. Gave him some lager, teacakes and a bottle of Inchcock’s Special Brew. (That be a litre of Schweppes tonic water, with some orange cordial added, and stored overnight in the fridge for him). I thought it might cheer him up a bit; I got the first smile off of him as he left, taking the waste bags with him to the chute for me. Poor lad.
I got out the checking gear for sphygmomanometerisationing and the temperature reading.
I thought it was an idea to open the balcony windows to let a bit of fresh air in while I did the HCs… having not had a shower, no signs of any NCH maintenance man arriving yet. The howling wind encouraged me to close the doors again.
The results were heartwarming, all good readings again, and I was back down into the amber zone! The third time in three weeks!
Back on the computer, Cleaner Esther came in to get the laundry things. And she did not tell me off about a single thing! Mind you, she has to come back with the washing yet, so we’ll see. Hehe! She doesn’t frighten me! 
Is back at his hobby, making steam trains for charity. I’m not sure if he makes so much noise on purpose or not. Hope he doesn’t kick off late at night again.
The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang from the door chime. My heart gladdened and burst with joy at the thought of the Nottingham City Homes plumber arriving to sort the shower out for me… Humph! It was neighbour Josie returning the things from her Sunday-Monday meal delivery. It was nice to see her, but all I said was not heard nor answered; she had not got her hearing aids in. So I smiled effusively and often. I never did find out if she enjoyed the meals or not. Bless her!
A text message came through on my G6 Nokia Lumia 929 Icon mobile phone. Only joking!
I thought it might be from the NCH plumber (again, I am a fool), but no, it was EE trying to sell me some crap for when I go abroad to save money! Another flutter of hopefulness, utterly destroyed!
♫ Oh, Susana’s ♫ tune rang from the door chime. Aha! Is this the NCH plumber? Nope, it was Esther returning. She explained that she was going to South Africa for three weeks’ holiday but had someone who could cover for her. She phoned the lady, Carol, who came to check me out. Nice lady, an ex-carer, and agreed to do the washing for me after Esther had explained my problems. They left together. Now waiting for Esther to return, and she did. She’d spoken with Deana to see what day they may be coming. Deana has reported it. It’s just a case of waiting now… Fancy that!
With so little sleep, I am getting irritable with myself, I think. Not with others, just with me. Not much chance of catching up on the sleep, well, none! I’ve got to stay awake to have the slightest chance of hearing the intercom when they arrive. If I go into the wet room, I can’t hear it, so, no opportunity to address my filthy stinking body with a stand-up wash and shave… risky (tumbles, slips) anyway with water still on the wet room floor… I’m not a winner, am I?
I got creative when I went to make a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. Ailments have stopped me from taking landscape photographs long since. So I took two snaps of the view from the kitchen window, put them together and trimmed them with CorelDraw. This is the outcome: Rather semi-pleased with this.
After making the brew, it had gone a smidge dark, and I took this picture of the wonderful if dank clouds this afternoon.
Good for Esther to arrange cover for her holiday. Time to get something to eat, methinks. So I did!
I knew it would happen. I fell asleep. No idea if any plumbers arrived and could not get in cause I couldn’t hear the intercom. 
If I can wake up early enough in the morning, before the NCH plumbers arrive, I will have to risk having a shave and stand-up wash and be ready for the ‘Will they come today’ big wait-in. Again!
Sharon arrived to wake me up. Medications given. Cold drinkies from the fridge in appreciation chosen.
On with updating this blog. Then on the WP Reader, answered a mass of comments came in on this blog. Got them both replied to.
The landline rang; it was Nathaniel from the Diabetes Defence Team. It was hard to hear everything he said, but I think I got the gist of the call. He told me to attend the next session on Friday 12th August. He would stay behind afterwards and talk me through the missed first session. Being aware of Dementia Doreen, I asked him to please rng Warden Deana to inform her, so she can arrange transport – explaining that I feared I may forget to ask her. He said he would, and I thanked him profusely.
Getting back may be dodgy, might need a bus or tram, then two more buses, to get back to the flats. Being a Friday evening, there will be no Wardens or Carer boss available if there are any problems encountered. I am a worry-guts!
I did it again. Drifted of to sleep, and I was woken by Carer Sarah. Who got the medications sorted, and I forced a treat from the fridge on the gal in thanks. ♥ I checked the texts on the super new G6 Nokia phone to see if any messages had come in from Nottingham City Homes about the shoer repair attendance. Nothing on it, so I hope I’ve not missed them. Sarah said they do not call on non-emergencies after 17:00hrs.
Which got me thinking. I could get a stand-up shave and wash when Sarah has gone. I can lock the front door and dive into the wet room, and if I take extra care throughout, can I still get the ablutions done? After dithering a while, I gave myself the go-ahead.
Worra, good session! I carefully blocked off the flood water with a mop bucket, and I pulled the shower curtain over the other area. Then if I wandered into the danger area without thinking, the noise of either obstacle should alert me to the danger – it worked a treat! Fair enough, it did cause a 
, but it saved me having a tumble. I was proud of myself for once. No bleeding teeth, not a single nick shaving! Yes! And, just a few small flecks of blood from Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inches fungal lesion had not been bleeding at all – plenty of stinging, of course, when I medicated the little unused other than for wee-weeing thing. Hehehe!
I came out of the wet room, a cleaner, sweeter-smelling Inchie. (Aftershave, deodorant, and the smell of Germoloid and Germolene creams helped. Hehe!) 
And had o go back in for a rear-end evacuation. Always something, whenever I begin to feel smug! It was a delayed action, a sudden swift and spurting movement, and so messy as things got sprayed to amazing distances. Cleaning it up also needed care to avoid slipping on the standing water. Still, I got it all sorted. Grade Two .
I sky when I got into the kitchen, was looking fantasic. I’ll put the earlier shots I’d taken here, with the latest one last. I’ll make the shots a little larger, so they can be appreciated. What a change!
A feast for the eyes. When I get cataracts done, I can really
relish watching them again.
I carried in with updating and posted this blog off to WP.
Then made the Ode below.
What a wet, embarrassing start to the day! I would guesstimate that from waking and getting to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), it would have been about a minute or so, although it felt like half an hour. And still, I didn’t make it in time! Shame, despondency, self-loathing, and the ignominy of it at my age… Weeing one’s Protection Pants! Still, they did the job, but unfortunately, I have little feeling when passing water nowadays and pulled Little Inchie out before he’d run his course… So, the second job of the day was cleaning up and sanitising, then a change of pantaloons, washing myself thoroughly, and getting the socks, jammie-bottoms and jumper in the bowl soaking in Dettol. Well, that wasn’t planned!
Now I should have been in a Dracula Depression over this, but I had no idea why; maybe the embarrassing event when wee-weeing had overridden… What am I talking about?
I got the blood pressure and the temperature taken. I didn’t bother taking any pictures. I felt it would be a waste of time. The SYS 158, DIA 69 and temperature 34.8°c, seemed okay.
I took a Dioctyl (Poo-softener) capsule again. Getting things moving took a while and a lot of painful effort. I’ve not had to apply so much pressure for such a long time in years. All the way through as well! Still, to my surprise, there were only specs of blood. And the innards soon settled down again.
Ah, I suddenly realised that there had been no noise coming from Herbert this morning? I hope he’s not well and had an accident.
today, one tomorrow. Shame they were not both on the same day. Hello, that’s the third change of ETA! Not that it matters, really. It’s just the thought of it coming late in the night and my having to stay awake to receive it that bothers me. Also, will the delivery person leave it in the reception foyer or bring it up to the flat? Mmm? Or… is it a ploy to have them both delivered on Saturday? Which would suit me; it’s just not knowing.
I tried to get the photos onto the computer again. Much to my amazement, the reader let me load some, not all of them, but still. Here’s last night’s super-supper. Which went down superbly, even if 
it was eaten after midnight! I burnt the potato waffles to perfection for my tastes. The beef, potatoes, cheese, and bean pasties were a delight and tasted. The mini tomatoes, red, yellow and green, were smashing! Which leaves only the mushrooms… Oh, dear, not good, I ate only one of them! Someone mystery person, whoever it was, told me to try wine vinegar with this fungi, so I did! Sickly sweet they tasted. Which kept the Flavour Score down to 8/10.
The end of Citrus Walk photo was… no, no, Chestnut Way, showing Red Van man parked back in his favourite position, on the yellow no-parking chevrons on the roadway. Not that it would bother him, I’m sure. Potentially blocking any Fire Engines from turning to get to the flats. Whoever he is.
A photograph of the Ocado carrier bags that were delivered this morning.
Ah, well, time to get the shaving, medicating and showering done. I thought I’d check on the Amazon tracker first…
now. Exciting this is, innit? Well, not really, so fair enough!) I’m easy to entertain, ain’t I? Hehehe!
It’s still coming, but further away now? It’s all new to me this tracking lark. 
As I say, I’m easily pleased.
I made a vegetarian feast tonight. A Bean & cheese flaky pastry pastie. fresh garden peas, honeyed parsnips, ready-prepared M&S Parmentier Potatoes – Diced British potatoes coated in shallot and garlic butter and sprinkled with thyme. (Boy, they were good!), with yellow, black & red tomatoes. Followed by a lemon mousse and a lime & lemon dessert. Taste rating: 9.2/10! It was worth the time to prepare and cook and the effort and time to clean up the mess I made afterwards. It cost a fortune as well! Lovely! I slowly digested every morsel, like a gastronomer.
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ played from the door chime, and in walked Carer Elena. She soon sorted the medications out for me. I was having difficulty in hearing what she was saying with the ear wax blocking my hearing and the mask she was wearing. So despite her many patients, accommodating, asked-for saying it again… I had to guess what the Angel said, half of the time. But she left happily enough, taking the waste bag with her to the chute for me. 💙
I had a wash (I do that sometimes, you know), and got the bamboo socks on, and I got down in the recliner again.
23:40hrs: I removed my over-flabbily-bellied body from the c1968 recliner and utilised the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). A short sharp affair, with a lot of CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble) to follow.
No messing about, I got on the computer to create a template for today’s blog. Starting with doing a few graphics on CorelDraw. But, I didn’t get too far, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room. Incidentally, Cartilage Cathy was a lot kinder to me this morning.
It seemed to me that the daily PTDDSB (Porcelain Throne, Daily-Domination-Stakes- Battle) for supremacy in the evacuation was a close thing. Still, a comeback from Constipation Konrad had curbed the rampant messy tendencies of Trotsky Terence for once! So, I had a go at the crossword puzzle as I waited for things to kick-off. Just as yesterday, I didn’t solve a single clue! (Well, I’m consistent, if not capable. Hehehe! The movement started slowly and stayed that way, but no pain or bleeding, and as I said, it was a lot less mess to clean up. I still had to refill the tank by hand though, I think the problem is the fluffy too-thick toilet roll paper.
I decided to get the hand-washing done first. But and however – guess who had left the hot water tap (faucet) to run cold? Yes, pickle-brain Inchcock had struck-again! Gawd-blimey, I this far too often! Hence decision had to be made (another Inchcock problem area!) My EQ told me there nothing to do but press on handwashing boiling the water in the kettle and saucepan, for more Whoopsiedangleplops were on their way! He also called me a name, a naughty one!
So, the half-hour or so handwashing exercise took me nearly two hours! Not to mention the scolding of two fingers fetching the kettle to the sink… Oh, I’ve said it! It’s a good job that I was in a slightly better mood today! I washed the long-sleeve jumper, the jammie-bottoms and the pair of long bamboo diabetic socks. The washed ones from yesterday were not fully-dry enough to put on today, so I got a couple of 100% short-ones to adorn after the ablutions to wear. 
I made a start on moving the stuff back into the cupboard, but soon lost interest!
Since the side-effect-ridden AstraZeneca Covid-19 vaccination was given to me a week last Saturday, SYS has also been higher, its the lowest reading today than for ages. I think I might be getting confused here, between the SYS and the temperature? Well, fancy that!
I found 
an NHS site on Google, where you can put in your reading for SYS and DIA, and you get an instant show of where you stand on the chart, with a black cross! Proof that I was right to worry when the SYS went up to 180 five days ago, well, that was well in the red area! 
Gotten Himmel! Look at the time! What happened, where did it go?
terribly bland, tasteless, watery. Savourless and unappetising. These Don Holio chopped tomatoes needed a warning giving-out about them for anyone unlucky enough to buy any. The Sainsbury crispy smoked ready-cooked bacon slices were very fatty tasting as well! 
However, and leaving the pots in the sink in cold water to be cleaned when I have some hot water again, in the morning, at first, I was well-pleased that I was in time to watch the channel 11, Tales of the Unexpected episodes.
The scrawl on the paper was hard to decipher. Bits I could make out were, ‘dreams put in the blog’ and ‘wee-weeing…’ But unfortunately memories of having the dreams I’d apparently had were lost into the ether. They must have been interesting, or I would not have made the regrettably unreadable comments on the pad. Shame!
I went through the routine of getting up, catching the balance easily enough this morning. Noticing that the ankle ulcer was clearing up so quickly (Not complaining). The papule underneath the left foot was still tender, even though it had grown back on the bottom of the foot. 
I tended to the Health Checks first. 
get it to work today, and worked on the third effort: The SYS was still a little too high, but it’s been worse many a time. 
Then I opened the letter. It was an eight paged A4 notification, from HMG (Her Majesties Government), Department of Health & Social Care. It consisted of the following: Guidance for the festive period – Shielding – Access to health & care – Important Information about Covid-19 – Access to Additional Support – Vitamin D supplements – Socialising -Care & Support – Tier 1, 2, and three rules to follow – Going to the shops and Pharmacy regulations. Whether or not I will live long enough to read and digest it all, is questionable.
But, Hatt Mancock’s… sorry, Matt Hancock’s end quote of “We will Continue To Support You in your efforts to keep yourself & others safe!” gave me a warm-glow of bile, that did. 
I assume he may be talking about my not getting my prescriptions without a battle on the phone each month with the Chemist I must not visit, to get them delivered? Or being unable to get my toe-nails cut? Or the cancelled Oncologist – Cardiothoracic – Endocrinologist – Pulmonologist – Neurologist – Urologist and Audiologist cancellations? 
Or maybe as is likely, he’s more working towards the next general election than actually bothered about us all. He feels a bit of creeping and ersatz care pretending now, belatedly shown will ensure the votes? Who knows? You can’t blame him! Hahaha! 
I took regular breaks over the.. wait for it… seven-hours I spent, getting the templates finished! The first being for some brekkers, of sorts. I had a pot noodle, and some nuts to nibble.
Turned everything off computer-wise, to let it cool down, and got the ablutions done
The session went safely enough, dropsies of course, and just the one nick shaving. 
I got the unopened old but ere new when I bought them, trousers on. They were classed as brown, but only just. Hehe! 
snuggly. Other than that, they were fine. Oh, and the back pocket had a hole in it!
Back to the templating. I got the computer going again, and got a message telling me that the hard drive is running low in space. I’ve no idea where the message came from, Microsoft, Google or the computer. After a few moments of frowning and fretting – the message disappeared? 
I took a breather, of sorts when it started to be a grind, rather than pleasure, in doing the CorelDrawing. 
I got the bags down, in the process gaining a pretty deep blue bruise on the knuckles as I trapped the hand as the lid shot back closed.
Back to the templating again. I worked through uninterrupted for a few more hours. Got the templates finally finished and began thinking of what to have for my nosh. As I nosied around to see what was available, favouring doing the meatballs and potato shapes, to help clear the freezer, then I can free Jenny’s space up and fetch the meatballs she has kindly stored in her freezer for me. 
The sky was changing as I farted-about making a right mess in preparing 
the cooking. Nicolas’ Neurotransmitter had been so kind all day. Still, it now was causing some dangerous situation with the oven and saucepan, like. 
I got the fodder l plated, and was amazed at the fact that I’d just made this meal! I was so, out-of-it, and drained? I must have engaged auto-pilot—a taste-rating of 7/10. 
I hopped (hopped? Hahaha!) out of the recliner, went through the balance-gaining exercise, (something else I do regularly each morning, since the last time when I didn’t, and fell back down in the chair, causing Harold’s Haemorrhoids to bleed painfully, and set off BPB [Back-Pain-Brenda]) I recall the pain. Tsk! Over to the overnight bucket, and saw it had not been used. So instead of doing more cleaning, I hobbled to the wet room for the wee-wee—a disappointing affair, of the UTD (Unwilling-Trickling-Dribbling) variety. 
Then made a brew, cursed the dank rainy weather, and had another UTD wee-wee. Then industriously, onto CorelDraw and got all of the TFZer graphics done that I needed! Smugness Adopted! Mind you, it took me over three hours of concentrated attention to detail. I can’t brag too much, I’ve not checked them out yet for mistakes.
I had to put a stop to this dedicated, determined attitude, to respond to a call to the Porcelain Throne. Fearing this visit being as bad as yesterdays, I went apprehensively to the wet room. Constipation Konrad beat the hell out of Trotsky Terence again, but by less, I’d say a 2-0 victory. Which meant a little less pain for yours truly, but it was still bad. No bleeding, though, that was a plus! Haemorrhoid Harold didn’t suffer so much, thankfully! I noticed that ankle ulcer was looking good, no pain whatsoever, fading now, and no itching. A risk of Semi-Contentment developing here! 
The showering had a few dodgy moments. The first of the dropsies, the shower gel bottle, landed right on the leg ulcer – and it didn’t even hurt! A full bottle as well! (This good luck can’t last, surely?) 
Gringglebogs!
I took a photo through the balcony window, it was still raining, glum, and a disheartening sight. With it being so cold in the flat as well, anyone would think it was winter. 
I got the much belated Health Checking done. Started with the body temperature with the contactless thingamabob.
The sphygmomanometerisationing showed a higher than for a while SYS of 176. Maybe it’s because I took so much later than I usually do? 
The ankle ulcer had stopped being tender, and I could now drop my trouser leg. Giggle! I took the last photo of it, and it had been seeping a bit, but it left a lot better, easier, calmer, now. 
Back to the computer to update this blog, so I can get back to CorelDrawing. But it’s getting late now, but the graphics will have to be done, or I’ll be in a right pickle in the morning. I did some IT updating and then went for a brew. The view outside, showed some sleet or snow trying to come down with the rain, so I got the Nikon camera and went out on the balcony to take some shots – through the glass, too cold and wet to open any windows. 
As I went to open the most hated and unluckiest, bedevilled, cursed, kitchen window in the world; 
Bother from BPB, Haemorrhoid Harold, clouted on the elbow and head, and the ankle must have hit something, it was now bleeding a smidge. I cleaned up the ulcer area and ointmentated it.
down! You’ve got to laugh! 
The landline burst forth. It was the beautiful, desirable, so sweet, caring Hristina, my beloved Phlebotomy vampire nurse. Kindly advising me that she is calling for my blood on Monday, twixt 08:00 > 10:00hrs. Bless her. Well, that made me feel better straight away! ♥
I went back to CorelDraw to if I was up to making the template. Oh, dear! I got one made, and then started to prep the meal. 
00:25hrs: I stirred back into imitation life, and the ailments already having a bash at me, the moment I moved any connected limbs, were; SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Haemorrhoid Harold, and Duodenal Donald, with a few mild interruptions by wandering all over the front torso, Anne Gyna. But this is not unusual.
The astonishing thing was the frame of mind I was in. I felt almost contented and ready for anything that came along? Naturally, this is not going to last long, but still, a great, if a rare, situation, that I will do my best to enjoy!
caught my balance, and meandered into the kitchen. No desire for a mug of tea (now I was getting a smidge confused and a semblance of weariness developed). Oh, dearie me! My bestirring semi-contented feeling was diminishing already.
I checked the hanging above the sink hand-washing and moved the jammie bottoms onto the upright clothes dryer. All this time, I was… I don’t know how to describe it, erm, like I was not me, or someone had hacked into my brain? No wee, no pooing, no mug of tea, Arthur Itis and Cartilage Cathy has never been kinder to me than they were this morning? Caught my balance wi
thout the exercising first! And not a single Dizzy Dennis visit yet! Conrad Confusion was being tested, here! As was what semblance of sanity I have!
The task of getting the photographs prepped took me less than an hour. Never been known to be so fast in years! 
I got to the wet room in plenty of time, not that it mattered. For Constipation Konrad repeated his Wednesday victory over Trotsky Terence, but by a bigger margin! At least 6-0! As I sat there, toying with the crossword book, and daring not try to force things along, and waiting for the innards to evacuate at their own pace – I soon realised that this was not going to happen. I don’t know why I put ‘soon’ there? It must have been a good fifteen minutes, and three new answers found for the crossword puzzle before I had no option, other than to grin and bear the pain (it was worst in weeks). 
I changed into one of the older Morrison bought white PPs (that fitted). Memories of pre-Coronavirus days flowed. The time before Morrisons and Sainsbury’s started sending the most farcical substitutes, you know, like AA batteries in place of a can opener, Medium Protection Pants instead of XL, and McCains foul-tasting black pepper fries in place of Sweet potato battered fritters!
A demoralised Inchcock, with a very sore bottom, returned to his computer. Back in his regular, normal, nervous, twitchy, haphazard, grumpy, fed-up, wee’d-off, desultory, and laissez-faire, defeatist, frame-of-mind. Feeling so sorry for himself, too! 
I decided to make a brew of Glengettie. (it will not help, but it’ll be tasty!) And poddled off to the kitchen to get the kettle on. The sky was getting a smidge lighter, so I got the Nikon and took a couple of photos. 
it came up empty? What? Had I done something wrong, or what? Had it been hacked? It had some important numbers and passwords in it? Oh, dearie me, I’m feeling even worse now! Really fed-up! Granglespithowlations!
no knocks, dizzies, toe-stubbing or loss of balance. Smooth! The medicationing had its moments, but nowt excessive. The legs and feet looked good to me. The wee-wees had dried up as well. The skin is as normal, looking a smidge deathly pale again.
I did find a photo on the SD card later, that was a mystery to me. 
Yes, that’s the one.
I hand-washed the blue zip-up jerkin. All done, wrung and hung above the sink to eventually drip dry, I hope.
I then spotted two burglar alarm activating in the rain-sodden Cavendish Vale. I tried a few times to get a photo that showed the alarm lights, but I failed in my efforts.
Then I made up two more small waste bags and put them in the box on the three-wheeled walker. And I added a biggish couple of bag with recyclables materials in them, to it on the handlebars.
No one was using the elevators at that moment, so I was soon down on the ground floor. Got the little Cannon camera out and took this photo of the ground floor lobby.
awaiting collection. I took the photo of the electronic notice board on the way to the lobby.
I returned to Woodthorpe Court flats, took another picture of the being updated hallways and lobby, and got up in the lift to the 12th-floor. 
I got opened a can of Chilli-Con-Carne into a saucepan, added some made-up vegetable gravy, and a drop of Hickory, and sliced some tomatoes to go in the mix, with just a sprinkle of Balsamic vinegar. Got the oven warming to do some chips in. 
The eyes were drooping, the back hurting. As often happens, I was feeling smidge rough around the edges. I quickly got the latest local Coronavirus figures.
the car park below on Chestnut Walk, only one red car this morning. (I hope Billumski The Chairman and Director of the RCMS from Utah is making a note of this) 
I got the sphygmomanometer out, and the machine needed three goes to get it to work. Mind you, the reading was down a smidge more, for the third day on the trot! But I’m not getting excited about it, not with my luck. Egads, no! 
The Chinese made contactless thermometer, made with plastic from India, and imported from Soth Korea, showed a temperature of 36.2° c. Which I think is not too bad at all. 
And, what a change in style that was today! I got seated, as directed by the 
I took this shot of the moon on my way to the wet room.
The shaving was smidge hair-raising, and that’s not easy when you have no hair! Hahaha!
No shower today, the Iceland order is due, oh, and the Amazon PPs might be arriving today. After an easy medicationing session and getting dressed, I hand-washed 
the long-sleeve tee-shirt. 
moon before it disappeared.
’em both. 
sorting them first instead. 
I got it off in the end! I wish they would sell them of this 
The three packs of eight looked similar to the other ones from Sainsbury’s, but were cheaper and the correct size.
Gone my head-down time. But, Jenny had told how to cook the meatballs, I had planned to have chips with them, but cooking the balls in the oven, I decided on having potatoes, peas and gravy. I got the oven on. And checked on comments on WordPress
I’ll get the meal served up then. Fingers crossed. Jenny was right when she told that doing the meatballs in the oven, they would come out crispy. They did, and I liked them. Added them to the peas and potatoes in the big saucepan, made some thick gravy and added it to the mix, and warmed through. Got the pots made a mess off washed, stirring the mix in between. Got it dished up and enjoyed the Flavour-Rated 7/10 meal with some bread thins to soak up the gravy—a lemon yoghourt for afters. I was getting more and more tired, so I got up to get the pots washed properly, in case I fell asleep and dropped the tray etc. 
01:30hrs: I stirred, and was amazed to find I had slept for over five uninterrupted hours – and this after the night before’s mammoth sleep-in? I seem to have changed suddenly from an insomniac to a n
I was a smidge disappointed in myself when I saw the untaken evening pot of medications still on the Ottoman, though. I mused for a few seconds, on why I am suddenly missing so many night tablets so often? But got no reply from the brain, which decided that a mug of Glengettie tea was more important.
The sphygmomanometer needed a couple of tries to get it to work. The first effort indicated I’d snuffed it. Hahaha! But at least try two showed the SYS was down a tad, to 160. 
Then, as I turned, I hit my head on the corner of the door. Not badly, I’ve had many worse ones, but it seemed to spark a change in my everyday routine? 
half sting when I put the foot down. 
Then I got the hand-washing finished off, the green quilt I’d left to soak in the sink bowl. I rang it out as best I could, and got it on the stand-up clothes airer in the hallway, being careful not to hang over the electricals at the bottom. Not everyone can say that, Hehehe! 
Back into the Steptoe & Son-like front room, and got the computer back on. 
He arrived, just as I had a dizzy at the front door, he showed concern and unloaded the good into the box and two bags (As orders go, this was a biggun!) Then he carried them through to the kitchen for me. I thanked him, then got the paperwork out, to see what was what, substitution wise.
Well, there were a few concerns. The PP’s (Protection-Pants), had been 
Now, I know that Sainsbury’s say you can return any substituted items not suitable. But would they appreciate my asking the driver to wait, while I go in the wet room, to try on a pair of pants – find they are too small, then put them back in the pack, sellotape it up, and hand them back to the driver for returning? I think not! 
Not that these idiotish, inane, illogical, crass, unreasoned, banal, piss-taking substitutions bother me too much, of course! Knackwrangles! 
I set about sorting the food etc. and trying to find some room, I’d rather overdone it again. Not on the fresh stuff, mind. I’ve been caught out with short dates and bonkers substitutes that often this year, from JS and Morrisons.
I got the waste bags sorted onto the box on the trolley to go to the waste chute.
control. Bless her! 
So I went on Amazon for a look-see what they had. I found these Tena ones, at £1 a disposable pair. I ordered some on Special Price, it said they were a new make. I just hope I’ve not ordered the wrong things again. They are at least a large size. 
I delivered the meal eight minutes earlier than usual to Josie’s door, and there was no answer. Just as well, cause I’d forgot to take a photo of her Sunday feast. I nipped back in and took this shot and returned to her door and rang the bells again. I was greeted with; “You are early!” Hehehe! She laughed and inspected the fodder. It seemed to pass muster, she said she liked the fish Surami sticks, and the can of Rum and whatever went down well. 
I got the nosh prepared, not sure how I didn’t fall asleep doing it, though. 
I tucked in, then fell asleep after eating the meal. Woke a few minutes later thinking it was time to get up, I edged my Billy Bunter body and saw the pot of yoghurt laying unbroken, where it had rolled to, on the carpet. A dilemma now; Do I struggle to get up and retrieve the lemon curd yoghourt? Is it worth the monumental effort? Am I that keen on eating it? Yes, I was… wasn’t I? 
04:45hrs: I stirred and reluctantly opened my eyes, closed them, and nodded off again. Uninterested in life, or stirring from the warmth of the c1968 recliner.
I deposited my stomached ladened, with the thin, scrawny legs and arms attached, on the raised toilet seat, and got the crossword book out… 
messy affair, but the input from Trotsky, amazingly ensured that the system coped with clearing the product away, and it was a big un, with just the one flush! All neat and clean! 
Then, a few seconds after taking this photo, ‘thinks began to come back up into the bowl! Blungletads!
I started with the sphygmomanometer, which gave a decentish SYS of 160. Or is it? My memory fails me. I wrote down the expected BP for someone of my age, twice in fact… But can’t where I wrote it down. Brunglebogs! 
The temperature came out good again as well, at 36.4°c. 
This was because it was so light. (I’m quick yer know, Haha!) A bit of mist and drizzle, wet roads and roofs. I remembered the smoke f
I got a few more waste bags made up and put them in the box ready for taking to the rubbish chute later on. 
It was so late a start, I was worried that my legion of fans and readers would be concerned and missing their IT (Inchcock Today). I hope both of them will be patient with me. Hehehe! 
Not that it bothered me in the slightest.
I opened the ‘Your Area’ email magazine, to search for the latest Coronavirus figures available. Nottingham appeared to be slacking off at last, with only 653 new cases in the last seven-days, which sounds odd I know. But it was so much higher a fortnight ago. The Government’s England graphs were somewhat mixed in results.
I made up a nosh, without burning or dropping anything (Smug-Mode-Adopted). 
23:45hrs: I woke up suddenly, to suffer the headache-giving wild Thought-Storms bounding about ricochetting off of each other, and making little sense, as they fought each other to be the one to send me daft, demented or doolally! 
Now, this is hard for me to explain with any clarity, but, I’ll try: I was (I think) dreaming it – and seemed to wake up a second time, and the flaming Thought-Storms were still there! They then died away within seconds, and Anne Gyna took over as the worrying-stakes lead-tormenter. Gawd almighty, she was giving me some stick! 
Time for some brekkers methinks. I got some potatoes in the crock-pot.
The top came off pf the Soy sauce bottle, and instead of a couple of shakes of sauce going in, it was half the bottle! Hehehe! 
I made the breakfast-noodles, adding some gravy seasoning to it. I shan’t be adding gravy seasoning to any more of them; it was not very nice.
Then, I turned my keen, educated, efficient, diligent, alert, receptive, bright, and concentratedly-reliable attentions, to getting the Ablutions done. 
The session went reasonably well; apart from the teeth bleeding, three cuts shaving, a mega-drop of the showerhead that hit me on the knee with a fair wallop, a bang against the left grab-rail – quickly followed by a knock against the right grab-rail. The cap came off of the lemon shower gel, and (albeit not too bad a one), a toe-stubbing on the sock-glide. I knocked over the Germolene, Olive oil dropper and the Daktacort. (the Daktacort is still missing), and approximately twelve dropsies, it went well. 
She was in when I arrived, but busy, of course. I explained about someone from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, told the Doctors receptionist they would not delivery the prescriptions anymore. I needed clarification on this, before next Friday when they are due. Whichever, yay or nae to delivering, I need to know the date I can arrange to pick them up, then a volunteer needs to be searched for, this is why I am asking a week in advance, last month there was no answer to Deana’s calls at all. But, th
ey are Volunteers! Deana will call them next week, Monday or Tuesday for me. I thanked her and returned to the Woodthorpe lobby.
The landline chimed out and burst-forth with flashing. It was Sister Jane, I got an update with their medicalisational activities. They are as busy as I am nowadays. 
I’ve never had a train set, you know. Just thought I’d mention it! 
rously.