TFZ’s at the TFZers Cool-It-Hut!

Sunday 2nd August 2020 

Maori: Rātapu 2 Akuhata 2020

07:00hrs: I did wake up a few times earlier, but each time, there was no way I wanted to or could get up. I felt as if I’d only just got to sleep, when in fact, I been asleep for hours? I was so tired, still! With no demands for a wee-wee, making it easier for this old chap to nod-off again. Different, worrying, but a great experience! A little guilt perhaps, helped me to go into action mode.

I was up, and admiring my magnificently muscled, firm, fit, young, six-packed body, and caught my balance, within minutes. Ahem!

As I was reaching for the four-pronged walking stick, when the demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived, with some urgency again. I hobbled carefully, but as swiftly as I dare, to the wet room. (To avoid any accidents or innards-controlled unexpected escapages). Arriving well in time!

There was a surprisingly long wait for the motion to begin. Plenty of time for me to access the crossword book, and fail to get a single clue solved. Humph!

The innards controlled evacuation began with a sudden bit of a rush, which caused a moment or two’s worth of Argh’s and wincing of the facial muscles (Hehehe!). Then lasted longer and slower than any evac. in months. I was worn out by the time it had finished! The Silver-lining were, only minuscule bleeding, not a messy affair, and the after-aroma was not too biliously pungent!

However, I lost a lot of time due to the cistern’s failure to clear the contents away again. Jugs of water, in between several flushes, had to be made. It’s still not all gone, I’ll have to keep returning and give it a flush every now and then, and hope for the best. What a palava!

I got the kettle on and took a couple of photographs from the unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, unable to get at for the disabled tenants to clean windows. The first one, of below, the Woodthorpe Court car park on Chestnut Walk. Noticing the red sports car had returned. (That should please Kentuckian, Billumski!)

Then I thought I saw bats flying around. After various failed attempts to catch whatever they (2) were, I gave up altogether. Hehe!

Then, taking the medications and doing the Health Checks. The sphygmomanometer figures were healthier today.

Made the brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and to the computer, to make a start on this blog. I was about to start on it and remembered the WC flushing had to be checked on, so off to the wet room. One more flush, and it appears that the content had gone. But I know well, from the experiences of this mechanical-teaser, that it has a habit of regurgitating things, and when I go to utilise it again, I have to start the ‘Get-rid-of-it’ process again! So, I’ll recheck it again later on.

Finally, I got to start this blog off. And yet again, I had to hobble-off to the Porcelain Throne! A longer evacuation session this time. But I had some success with the crosswording, which was pleasing.

I had a wash, rinse, and teeth cleaning session while I was in there. And spotted just how bloodless the body was looking! Hogglesworthy!

As I was taking a photo through the balcony windows from the computer chair, I got a phone call from someone wanting to speak to Angie. I realised it must be for Angie and Roy from the top floor. Asked if she wanted me to take a message for them. The lady didn’t, apologised, and rang off.

I snapped the morning clouds in the sky (which I suppose is normal. Haha!).

Time to get Josie’s meal prepped. It was a bit of the struggle this Sunday, as Dizzy Dennis and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley were both visiting me regularly. I pressed on, a slightly more complicated ‘Cheffing’ session, as well.

Skipjack Tuna flakes in brine, mixed with mayonnaise. Egg mayonnaise, gherkins, beetroot chunks with onion and balsamic vinegar, garden peas, tomatoes, surimi sticks, a bar of chocolate, an apple, and a limoncello dessert for her. Oh, and a can of pink gin & tonic. The fiddly prep work and the dropsies were trying. Yet, somehow or other, I got ita;; ready without a single bruising, cut, or any injuries! First-Class-mug Mode Engaged!

I wheeled it to her door, and we had a little chat, she gave me a packet of shortcake biscuits and again handed me the carrier back from last week. Carrier, Hah!, I must have at least 20 of them in the flat now, and she gives me one back! Hahaha! Anyway, she looked and sounded in fine fetal.

Well, I was up for working then, as Shirley and Dizzy Dennis eased off suddenly.

So I decided to sort out the waste bags, Which was a bigger job than I thought it would be. In the hallway, I ended-up stacking seven bags onto the three-wheeler-walking-trolley, a bit of a balancing act. But with me finding the unexpected smidge of confidence and a willingness to graft, there was no stopping me (Yet!) and I began to push the trolley out through the doorway.

I stopped myself when I realised I had not taken the bag for Jenny. Too heavy to add to the trolley, but it seemed an easy enough task to just carry it to the chute-room by hand.

And to my amazement, it went well. In the waste-chute area, things got a bit hairy. I’d purposely made up small bags so they would go down the chute easily enough, but one white bag did not want to have it. I didn’t want to force anything, so took a carrier bag from the basket and broke it up into two bags, and all with no finger-trapping dizzies or other ailments troubling me! This was all very disconcerting, unnatural! 

I left the room and got to the lift lobby. I even go an elevator down to Jenny’s floor, within a minute or so! Luck, good fortune? Makes me shudder!

I put the bag near the door, pressed the bell, and got back to the lift lobby.

The residents lift arrived sharpishly again, I got in the cage, and pressed the floor twelve-button. My mind wandered on all this lack of Accifauxs and Whoopsiedangleplops. The lift stopped, dragging my mind back to the current time, and as I was absentmindedly getting out of the lift, a chap waiting to get on, wittily quipped, “Wrong floor, Gerry!” with a broad grin on his face, and head shaking! He added, “Stick with it, you’ll get there, mate. Hope you’ve some water and food in your trolley!” Hahaha! The wit! The cage had gone down to the 4th floor. It then took me up to my level. I did feel a fool!

I got back in the apartment, and I discovered I’d left two small white bags of rubbish on the kitchen floor.  Tsk!

I got the stick and took the two bags to the waste-chute, and on the way out, Neuropathy Nigel had me walk straight into the door frame! Twas a sickening sound, bone hitting wood, I verbalised a few oaths, by then Shuddering- Shoulder-Shirley started to kick of! It was all I could do to walk back to the flat with so little control over the walking stick, and not tumble over! I got in the flat to the knock-knock sounds from Herbert above.

Now this sort of luck, I understand and expect. Much easier to cope with! Hahaha!

I checked the kitchen for safety, got a bottle of spring water, and cordial made up, took the medications with an extra pain-killer (the shoulder felt a bit raw).

I got on with updating this blog).

Took a look for the latest Corona Virus figures, this chart on the right I got from the Your Nottingham web site.

The mental fatigue came on, and I got my dinner sorted out and served up. Ate it, well, most of it, then washed the pots, got my humongous-bellied body into the £300, second-hand, none-working, uncomfortable, rickety-recliner. Put on the original Die Hard DVD, and fell-asleep about ten-minutes into the film. Tsk!

I was woken up by some banging and tap-tapping noises from above. And wrote some notes of the dream I’d been having, on the notepad.

I rose to have a wee-wee and took this shot of the wonderful sky.

Below on the bottom field, were three youths playing music, and seemingly a picnic of some sort. I could hear the squeaky, tinny-sounding music right up here in the flat, but when I closed the window, I couldn’t. I made a brew, of Glengettie, and consulted the note about the dream to write in here.

Got the computer on; disappointingly, much of my scribble was unreadable. Bits of the memory was still in my head, though.

• I was in what appeared to me, even in the dream, partly Draycott, Derby, and Leicester, or as if it was around the 1960s.
• A bus station, again a mixu=re of various bus stations I had used over the years. I wanted a number 42 bus to Derby, but had to settle for a 4X, got on and paid the fair, and the conductor came back to me and asked for me fair again – we argued, the bus stopped, and we came to an agreement that he would only charge me 5/-, not the 6/11d the fare should have been? 
• I fell asleep and woke up back at the original station.
• I got off of the bus, and saw someone I knew (Don’t know who), and followed him into a gigantic underground world of brick-sided passages, covered in soot.
• A bit vague here, the notes didn’t help. Mixed confused memories.
  
• I eventually found myself coming out of the giant cave, and found myself in the Derby Bus Station cafe. I was a child in body, but a pensioner in age? Why I can remember this, especially, I know not? I even have a photograph of the exact area on file? The doors in the centre are where I appeared from the preceding part of the dream.

As I was adding this to the Inchcock Today, the ‘Hum’ got louder and louder until it almost became unbearable? Kluggledanks!

I went in to get the ablutions done, to find no hot water, and found the tap running in the sink! Skullclogglebonks!

So, I got this post done as far as here and will continue the tale of woe on tomorrow’s blog.

TTFNski, folks!

Saturday 1st August 2020 

Xhosa: Ngomgqibelo Umhla Wokuqala Ku-Agasti Ka-2020

05:40hrs: I woke, I coughed, I passed wind, and clambered with an iota panic-stricken, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, musty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy-yet-tottery, rickety recliner. Got hold of the four-pronged stick, tested Arthur Itis’s left knee-cap, it was still attached, and off I limped to the wet room.

I felt my balance was not yet settled, and still, I walked into the main room door frame, and the poor-old right shoulder suffered again! But, no point in my getting bothered, pain, and all that, I recovered and pressed on, still unsure if I would get to the Throne in time.

No problem with the timing. The evacuation was back to what had been normal lately. The innards-controlled flow started, then stopped – I picked up the crossword book automatically, and delved into the clues. What seemed like many minutes later (I’d got three clues solved! Hehe!), things began moving again, in a wailfully painful mode!

It’s not necessarily a bad thing, this stop-start stuff on the Porcelain Throne in a morning, you know! The Diabetes insipidus, Post-Micturition Pre & After-Dribbling were not a problem as it trickled and dripped, while I was seated, like a Little Tubby Lord Fauntleroy. (Haha!)

The only fretting coming from the session; was the amount of bleeding. It didn’t look anything like the usual vibrant red, as Harold’s Haemorrhoids leaks usually are?

I cleaned up and medicated things, and I made the way to the kitchen! Taking a snap as I went carefully through the doorway, thus, avoiding any more collisions. The upcoming sunshine from behind the flats lit up the far land-line.

I got the kettle on the boil and blow-me-down-with-a-feather-duster, I had to return to the wet room for another a wee-wee! Tsk!

I forbore from any PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) because I’d made my way to the bowl as soon as I got a message from the bladder. Had I decided to finish making the mug of tea and then go for the wee-wee, I’m sure I would have had some embarrassment! The main-stream was surprisingly powerful and persistent. But the AMD still took longer to stop than the actual urinationalisticalising did!

Still, the pins, although looking bloodless, didn’t feel so painful this morning.  Slightly less bothersome. I wish I could say the same for my balance. Hey-ho!

It’s no wonder that I can’t get anything done! Marathon Porcelain Throne visits, now mega-long the PMD and AMD slowing things up even more! The tumbles; that can take ages to get back up from! Housework, what bit I can manage. Walking and banging into things! Shaking Shaun, Saccade-Sandra, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, Diabet… oh, never mind, moaning’s not going to improve anything. Bit of a self-pitying-chunter, slipped in, there, Sorry! Naughty Inchcock!

I cleaned things up again and returned to the kitchen. Made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and did the Health Checks. Sorted out the puzzling three tablets of the same size in the dosage pots, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, who failed on their promise not to put the Furesomide in the pots, but in a box in my monthly prescriptions.

But I bear no malice, hatred, disgust, revulsion, loathing, or desire for execrations towards the antisocial, Inchcock-Hating, Sneering, uncompassionate, superior-acting, uncaring, insensitive, heartless, obdurate, oblivious to damage they are doing,  the callous swine! Oh, no!

I’m not sure why, but I seem to be going almost into a depressional grip, minutes later I’ll be singing to myself, with hints of the Joys-of-Spring in the air, then back down in the pits. Mmm! Bonkersness, or Senility? Or both!

I got on the computer and really bamboozled myself again, just like last Saturday, I think. I was jumping from CorelDrawing, blogging, and back again repeatedly, forgetting what I had been on moments before. And getting annoyed with my self about it! An awful lot of effort, for little return. Schluberdubski!

I got around to creating a template for tomorrow’s post. Then, I went of to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana.

I took this shot of the houses in front of the building from the light & view-blocking, new kitchen window. Typically, by the time I’d got the camera out, the sunshine had withdrawn. Back to the computer, and it came out again!

So I popped into the balcony and took this photograph. As the sun rose later, it grew to what is now a lovely summers day.

As I was working on the keyboard, making decent progress for the first time, Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters ruined the enjoyment by their dying-off and coming back-on regularly!  Granglesbognessbuggerit!

So, I had to stop and went for yet another mug of tea, Extra-Strong Assam, this time.

I took these snaps on the right, to capture the almost perfect weather for the youngsters and those lucky to be adequately fit enough, have an amble in the bottom field. 

Who? Me? Jealous? No, never! Unglefrogwogglings!

The clouds in the sky were so different from yesterday, even prettier.

About to close the window, and I spotted some regular visitors, down in the field. I’ve seen the chap, he’s been out twice a day since Monday. Gathering blackberries (Rubus ursinus). He either has a taste for them or sells them on? Hahaha! And the Yap-Yap dogs were out, walking their owner. I could hear distinctive yapping, 12-floors up. I love to watch these dogs on their walk. So full of energy, madly shaking tail, and none-stop running and sniffing around, bless ’em!

Nicodemus was still playing up, so I went on the WordPress Reader section, some great photographs on there today. Then on Facebooking to catch up.

Dizzy Dennis and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, along with Anne Gyna, have now joined forces to put an end to me doing very much. I’m going to see how I go making an early meal, take some pain-killers, and get settled in the chair.  Sod-it, Dizzy Denis is back too now!

I made the quotidian feast. It took me a long time, cause I made cheesy potatoes, and seemed to be forever washing up bits splashed and dropped, and applying Germolene to the many bits of my fingers I burnt, getting the baked mixture out of the oven, was the only bad singe, and that was on the overabundant belly, near the button. Hehe! Klutz!

I got down in the dang-wangled c1968 recliner to eat the meal and watched FA Cup Final on the box. Just before the kick-off, my EQ told me the score would be 2-1, unequivocally! And it was, but I thought it would be to Chelsea, but Arsenal won it. Three bookings, a sending off, and for the first time ever, a manager was booked in a Wembley Cup Final!

Then drifted off into the Land of Nod! I woke later, and Dizzy Dennis was back. (The Git!) I carefully made my way to get the ablutions done. And, very well, they went, too! The toothache was only the tiniest bit bothersome. The shaving had a few dropsies and only one nick. The showering, a few short visits from Dizzy Dennis, but no injuries, and one showerhead-dropping. One of the least harassing and most injury-free ablutions session for ages!

The medicationalisationing and freshening up went alright, a few dropsies, the Germolene tube, pain-gel tube (2), and the cap off-off the Cortisone cream. I have yet to find that!

Getting the PPs on, lost a bit of balance, and scraped my ankle on the corner of the floor cabinet.

I think I might have said something to the tune of, ‘Oh, how irritating, that was!’ Ahemski!

The Deep Vein Thrombosis lumps were protruding more than usual? The pins had a little more colour, though.

I took a photo of the evening skyling. Then I got the towel on the stand-up dryer, made a brew, and took the evening medications. Onto Computer Cameron, to update this post.

The earlier faster typing-pace was thwarted, by regular visits from Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. Grogglebotchwitches! Hours later, I sent this off to WordPress, turned off the computer, and crawled into the c1968 recliner. Still having Dizzy Dennis moments! Humph!

Adieu, Mon Amis!

Thursday evening’s end tale:

The events of the day had worn me to a frazzle, I was tuckered out, wearied and zonked! When I went into the kitchenette, the fantastic night sky demanded of me to photograph it! So I did! 

I took three snaps in different modes. Of course, I can’t remember which was which now (Tsk!) but do recall using Auto, Night landscape, and Aperture Priority.

I got the 12-hours in a crock-pot, home-made stew served up. It looked a little unappealing when it was in the bowl on the tray. After starting the meal 14hrs earlier, this was disappointing. But it turned out fine, tastewise! A Taste Rating of 7/10 seemed about right.

I got the things washed up and despite my fatigued condition, noticed that I’d spilt a lot of gravy on the oven glove. So I set about washing it in the bowl, as I scrubbed away at it, I began to realise that something was amiss. Why was I doing this at this ungodly hour? My EQ told me I might as well, for sleep is not going to come yet!

I made a bottle of spring water & orange cordial, and took it with me to the recliner, and hop[ed Sweet Morpheus would oblige me. But no!

I watched two one-hour long documentaries on the box, without a single nodding-off, even during the commercial breaks! I even had time for a few Thought-Storms before I got off into the bliss of sleep!

I can do without another brain-challenging day like that again! (But of course, they will be back!) Grobognangles!

TFZer, Model? ♥

Friday 31st July 2020

Haitian: Vendredi 31 Jiyè 2020

05:40hrs: So, I must have finally got about four-hours with Sweet Morpheus, and much-needed this was, too!

I stirred again, in an amazingly semi-perky frame of mind! I think the brain had tried overnight to blank out the hellishness of yesterday’s horrible, tormenting trials?

The extraction of my ever-growing, flabbier, bouncing, bulging-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, none-operational, uncomfortable, rickety, rusting recliner was not such an easy task this morning. My balance was a smidge out of synchronisation with Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters on the right side of the body. No Accifauxpas or tumbles during the trip, but I had to move slower and more cautiously than usual, as I hobbled to the kitchen. And en route, Dizzy Dennis started with short sharp spells, and even more care and wariness had to be taken.

I got the soaking oven glove from the sink bowl and got as much water from it as I could. A bit of a severe and painful job, with Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters not being compliant!

Then I hung and wrapped the long oven gloves around the heating bars of the stand-up clothes airer in the hallway.

Put the kettle on and decided to try again, taking three photographs of the morning view, in different camera modes, this time writing down which, to record here. Cunning! The first one was in Auto, the second in Shutter-Priority, and the last one, Aperture-Priority. The third one looked nearest to what the eye saw.

I got the BP sphygmomanometerisationing done. The SYS was back up high again. I imagine yesterdays turmoil and emotional stress, might have been the cause?

I got an insecure feeling that I had forgotten something, that I should remember about today? Most uncomfortable about this! As I was going to the computer, I noticed that the ‘Hum’, was nowhere near as loud today? I’m not complaining, like! I checked on the Google calendar to see if I’d put anything on it for today, zilch, nowt on it? Tsk!

Back to the kitchen, and made a brew, while the kettle was boiling, I needed two wee-wees. Made the tea, and wanted another one! Blimus! Every one of them (I’ll try not to mention any of those that followed; unless there was a change in style, too many to mention them all! Huh!), were of the WOPT (Weak-Orange-Painful-Trickling) mode, with lots of annoying, time-consuming PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribbling)!

Then took the medications, after sorting out the three lookalike small tablets, to identify the Furesomide to remove. Thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, letting me down again. Grangleclogs! To be fair, they are consistent at pissing me off, and have excellent customer ignoring skills! Credit where it’s due!

Back to Computer Cameron. Still not free of this nagging fear that I’ve forgotten something important today, Grrr!

I took this photo through the balcony windows, showing the spreading shadow of the flats.

That’ll be the balcony that has bits of cement or concrete falling from the top inside, that disappear through the wooden floor slats to join the dead insects. Closed windows that let the rain in. End window openings that are cleverly designed. So that you need to push and pull at the same time to open the razor shard-edged metal spring clips at the same time, to open them. Thus, assuring lumps of a finger or two will be removed when operating them.

Incidentally, there have been three people up to now, who have tried to open my balcony end windows since fitted.

• One, an NCH fitter, he got a bruised and blackened finger for his efforts. Made him jump, and told me, that he is going to report the matter. That was well over two years ago.
• The second was a Phlebotomy Blood nurse. She got a nasty bruise that tuned black before she’d left the flat. She also said this needs reporting, and I will when get back!  That was about two years ago!
• The third is me: cuts, bruises, and black spots of varying degrees over the years.

Perfectly well-designed, anyone who is elderly, with Peripheral Neuropathy, Arthritis, Cramps, on Warfarin, Diabetic, poor eye-sight, or senile, these problems have been ignored, not taken on board. I fall into each of the above categories. Luckily, we are all here on a short term basis, age dictates this, so they don’t have to be worried about it. When one resident put in a complaint, he told me the answer given him, was, “Well, don’t open them then!” Fair enough, it’s a solution. But, I don’t complain, I daren’t. Hehehe!

Then, I made a start doing this blog. Dizzy Dennis has decided to attack frequently, but not for any long sessions (up to now, anyway). I made some progress blogging, and then realised I had no page header graphics in hand! And had not caught up om Facebooking either. (The idea that I’d forgot something still wrangled me!) So, I went on Facebooking first, then CorelDraw to create some graphics. It’s hard work, again!

Well, Goodness Gracious me! I’ve been at CorelDrawing now, for nearly four hours, and head-down time approaches, and nothing to eat yet. The worst bit is that I have only got three page-header graphics completed, in all that time! I got carried away, doing much more complicated designs, cause I was enjoying it so much! Now there’s something you really hear me say. Hahaha!

My newly made plans for my nosh are now changed to beef sarnies, Dagwood style, well-buttered, beef, with tomatoes and gherkins. Oh, I’ve got some eggs, it’s been that long since I bought some, I’d forgot I had them. Yes, some boiled egg as well, then!

I’ll make a start now, and return to computerisationing later. Now I have made myself hungry. I hope I get it right. Back sooner or later, folks!

The imitation Dagwood (lathered in Britanny butter) roast beef and tomato rolls, egg mayonnaise, beetroot & onion salad, and pork pie meat, backed up my apples, grapes and imitation cream dessert, was slowly and wallowingly digested, and enjoyed. TR 7/10.

I pondered over the day, a much betterer one than yesterday, although still a talkless to anyone one, (other than to myself – I did a lot of that, barely stopped). And no call to the Porcelain Throne either, yet! I got the pots washed.

I got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety recliner, to watch the TV. Fell asleep, and woke up, in a semi-panic, needing to utilise the Porcelain Throne. I say semi-panic, cause I feared I might not get here in time, the gurgling was almost continuous.

But I did it and was most amazed when I sat there for ages, doing the crossword puzzled for yonks. I think I may have broken my record for passing wind, without a break! The movement had to be encouraged, but it was far less painful this time, and of tinned meatballs in texture.

As I’m was about to medicate certain no-longer-used parts of my grossly overweight body, I spontaneously (is that the right word?), thought I might as well do the ablutions while I as there.

I was doing the teeth and realised it was a little late in the day for using the noisy shower tonight, so I opted for a good stand-up bath. No problems with the teggie-cleaning. And shaving, wait for it… did not produce a single cut or nick! Plenty of dropsies, mind.

My plates and legs were the most anaemic looking for years? But, no problems or pains with them. Even Arthur Itis has been in a good mood all day. I fear something unexpected, and discommodious is going to end all this good fortune!

The medicating was painless and accident-free! I’m not used to this?

Freshening up spray, deodorant, that’s the word, created a bit of interest. I must have dropped the ‘Sure’ can repeatedly at one time, five times in a row! It’s a good job there are no microphones in the wet room! I was laughing at myself and passing criticisms every time I dropped it. On the final dropping, the Sure spray can hit my foot and it bounced against the floor cabinet, and the plastic sprayer-top shattered. Hahaha! 

I got the computer back on and updated, then sent off this blog.

TTFNski each, and haveth a super-duper day!

Saturday 1st August 2020 

Xhosa: Ngomgqibelo Umhla Wokuqala Ku-Agasti Ka-2020

05:40hrs: I woke, I coughed, I passed wind, and clambered with an iota panic-stricken, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, musty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy-yet-tottery, rickety recliner. Got hold of the four-pronged stick, tested Arthur Itis’s left knee-cap, it was still attached, and off I limped to the wet room.

I felt my balance was not yet settled, and still, I walked into the main room door frame, and the poor-old right shoulder suffered again! But, no point in my getting bothered, pain, and all that, I recovered and pressed on, still unsure if I would get to the Throne in time.

No problem with the timing. The evacuation was back to what had been normal lately. The innards-controlled flow started, then stopped – I picked up the crossword book automatically, and delved into the clues. What seemed like many minutes later (I’d got three clues solved! Hehe!), things began moving again, in a wailfully painful mode!

It’s not necessarily a bad thing, this stop-start stuff on the Porcelain Throne in a morning, you know! The Diabetes insipidus, Post-Micturition Pre & After-Dribbling were not a problem as it trickled and dripped, while I was seated, like a Little Tubby Lord Fauntleroy. (Haha!)

The only fretting coming from the session; was the amount of bleeding. It didn’t look anything like the usual vibrant red, as Harold’s Haemorrhoids leaks usually are?

I cleaned up and medicated things, and I made the way to the kitchen! Taking a snap as I went carefully through the doorway, thus, avoiding any more collisions. The upcoming sunshine from behind the flats lit up the far land-line.

I got the kettle on the boil and blow-me-down-with-a-feather-duster, I had to return to the wet room for another a wee-wee! Tsk!

I forbore from any PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) because I’d made my way to the bowl as soon as I got a message from the bladder. Had I decided to finish making the mug of tea and then go for the wee-wee, I’m sure I would have had some embarrassment! The main-stream was surprisingly powerful and persistent. But the AMD still took longer to stop than the actual urinationalisticalising did!

Still, the pins, although looking bloodless, didn’t feel so painful this morning.  Slightly less bothersome. I wish I could say the same for my balance. Hey-ho!

It’s no wonder that I can’t get anything done! Marathon Porcelain Throne visits, now mega-long the PMD and AMD slowing things up even more! The tumbles; that can take ages to get back up from! Housework, what bit I can manage. Walking and banging into things! Shaking Shaun, Saccade-Sandra, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, Diabet… oh, never mind, moaning’s not going to improve anything. Bit of a self-pitying-chunter, slipped in, there, Sorry! Naughty Inchcock!

I cleaned things up again and returned to the kitchen. Made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and did the Health Checks. Sorted out the puzzling three tablets of the same size in the dosage pots, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, who failed on their promise not to put the Furesomide in the pots, but in a box in my monthly prescriptions.

But I bear no malice, hatred, disgust, revulsion, loathing, or desire for execrations towards the antisocial, Inchcock-Hating, Sneering, uncompassionate, superior-acting, uncaring, insensitive, heartless, obdurate, oblivious to damage they are doing,  the callous swine! Oh, no!

I’m not sure why, but I seem to be going almost into a depressional grip, minutes later I’ll be singing to myself, with hints of the Joys-of-Spring in the air, then back down in the pits. Mmm! Bonkersness, or Senility? Or both!

I got on the computer and really bamboozled myself again, just like last Saturday, I think. I was jumping from CorelDrawing, blogging, and back again repeatedly, forgetting what I had been on moments before. And getting annoyed with my self about it! An awful lot of effort, for little return. Schluberdubski!

I got around to creating a template for tomorrow’s post. Then, I went of to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana.

I took this shot of the houses in front of the building from the light & view-blocking, new kitchen window. Typically, by the time I’d got the camera out, the sunshine had withdrawn. Back to the computer, and it came out again!

So I popped into the balcony and took this photograph. As the sun rose later, it grew to what is now a lovely summers day.

As I was working on the keyboard, making decent progress for the first time, Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters ruined the enjoyment by their dying-off and coming back-on regularly!  Granglesbognessbuggerit!

So, I had to stop and went for yet another mug of tea, Extra-Strong Assam, this time.

I took these snaps on the right, to capture the almost perfect weather for the youngsters and those lucky to be adequately fit enough, have an amble in the bottom field. 

Who? Me? Jealous? No, never! Unglefrogwogglings!

The clouds in the sky were so different from yesterday, even prettier.

About to close the window, and I spotted some regular visitors, down in the field. I’ve seen the chap, he’s been out twice a day since Monday. Gathering blackberries (Rubus ursinus). He either has a taste for them or sells them on? Hahaha! And the Yap-Yap dogs were out, walking their owner. I could hear distinctive yapping, 12-floors up. I love to watch these dogs on their walk. So full of energy, madly shaking tail, and none-stop running and sniffing around, bless ’em!

Nicodemus was still playing up, so I went on the WordPress Reader section, some great photographs on there today. Then on Facebooking to catch up.

Dizzy Dennis and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, along with Anne Gyna, have now joined forces to put an end to me doing very much. I’m going to see how I go making an early meal, take some pain-killers, and get settled in the chair.  Sod-it, Dizzy Denis is back too now!

I made the quotidian feast. It took me a long time, cause I made cheesy potatoes, and seemed to be forever washing up bits splashed and dropped, and applying Germolene to the many bits of my fingers I burnt, getting the baked mixture out of the oven, was the only bad singe, and that was on the overabundant belly, near the button. Hehe! Klutz!

I got down in the dang-wangled c1968 recliner to eat the meal and watched FA Cup Final on the box. Just before the kick-off, my EQ told me the score would be 2-1, unequivocally! And it was, but I thought it would be to Chelsea, but Arsenal won it. Three bookings, a sending off, and for the first time ever, a manager was booked in a Wembley Cup Final!

Then drifted off into the Land of Nod! I woke later, and Dizzy Dennis was back. (The Git!) I carefully made my way to get the ablutions done. And, very well, they went, too! The toothache was only the tiniest bit bothersome. The shaving had a few dropsies and only one nick. The showering, a few short visits from Dizzy Dennis, but no injuries, and one showerhead-dropping. One of the least harassing and most injury-free ablutions session for ages!

The medicationalisationing and freshening up went alright, a few dropsies, the Germolene tube, pain-gel tube (2), and the cap off-off the Cortisone cream. I have yet to find that!

Getting the PPs on, lost a bit of balance, and scraped my ankle on the corner of the floor cabinet.

I think I might have said something to the tune of, ‘Oh, how irritating, that was!’ Ahemski!

The Deep Vein Thrombosis lumps were protruding more than usual? The pins had a little more colour, though.

I took a photo of the evening skyling. Then I got the towel on the stand-up dryer, made a brew, and took the evening medications. Onto Computer Cameron, to update this post.

The earlier faster typing-pace was thwarted, by regular visits from Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. Grogglebotchwitches! Hours later, I sent this off to WordPress, turned off the computer, and crawled into the c1968 recliner. Still having Dizzy Dennis moments! Humph!

Adieu, Mon Amis!

TFZer Keith, Modelling

Wednesday 29th July 2020

Welsh: Dydd Mercher 29ain Gorffennaf 2020

I’m writing from 2030hrs last night. At last, after much harassment and many botherations, thanks to Jenny, I eventually got some nosh made (See right – A delight). 

And what a nosh it was. Despite my being knackerated, in state of body and mind, I gladly ate it all up! Chinese belly pork, baked beans flavoured with BBQ seasoning and tomato puree, and mushrooms, some milk roll bread, made a fruit salad of sorts, and raspberry ripple mousse. Taste Rating: 8/10.

Left pots to soak in the sink, and dived down into the recliner in search of Sweet Morpheous. But I think I must have been over-tired or something, cause it was ages before I got off. Tsk!

03:20hrs: I woke with a start, talk about confused, the mind was indeed not working very well. Maybe I’d had an odd dream, though I cannot recall having one. No matter what day is it, for a moment I had to concentrate on who I was! It was a cringe-worthy few moments before the brain engaged properly. (Well, I say properly, hehehe!)

– Just as things were mentally settling, the dreaded ‘Inner-Gurgling’ started, and I had to make my way to the wet room ASAP, stumbling along with the stick, en route I blamed last night’s meal. I’ve never had Diahorrea-Duncan so bad in my life! After thunderingly flopping on the seat, the evacuation began immediately, almost liquid, and it felt so uncomfortable. Eugh! The tummy ache got worse after the session had finished! I’m getting a little wee’d-off with the ever-changing motions of late. And, all the cleaning up and medicating after the event. Even after waiting so long for completions, it was like a dripping tap, the wee-weeing continued with the PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribble). I dread to think how long I was in there for. But hope lies ahead, faith will not be lost, my mission will continue, and progress will be made! I’ve not got the foggiest idea what I’m talking about, here?

Off to the kitchen! Washed last night’s pots, then the kettle on and tried again to take a decent shot of the morning view, but I’m not doing well recently with these shots. Still, it was no worse than yesterday’s early morning efforts, or was it? Hehe!

As I was getting the Health-Check stuff out of the drawer, a combination of Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failing, and an untimely short spell of Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley arrived. The thermometer and tablet-pods ended up on the floor! The stick thermometer would not work, I’m hoping it needs a new battery, as opposed to my having broken it all together. No longer works! Groggleknockers!

The HP readings were fine enough. I used the new thermometer to take the temperature, but it wasn’t having of it at all? The screen flashed, and a few indefinable odd dots flashed. Methinks I’ve now broken both of the thermometers? Globblegripes!

Made a brew of Extra strong Assam tea, and started the updating of this post. Oh, I got an email from Iceland!

And a long job it turned out to be, Nicodemus and Shirley seemed to have allied themselves, to ensure I have plenty of hassle, mistake-making, ever-correcting, and a frustrating time doing the blog! Grrr!

Off to get the ablutions done, with Iceland coming with my hastily placed order. (Morrisons I know had just delivered yesterday, but Morrisons did not have any egg mayonnaise, so I ordered some from Iceland), and the Amazon ‘bamboo diabetic socks’ are coming, I had to get the washing up done early. But it was too early to use the shower, the noise might disturb my neighbours. Off to the wet room poddled!

Ablutionalisationing – For over Eighteens only X-rated Report

• One tiny cut shaving, but a devil of a job to stop bleeding! Tsk!
  
• A disappointing session this one was. It started with me hitting my left shoulder against the door frame as I entered the room! The left, not the right? A Great Start! 
• Broke the blue toothbrush! That did Toothache Thomas a lot of good!
• I’ve no idea how long it took me to find the pack of four I knew I had somewhere, but when I did find it, after going into two rooms in search, it was on the trolley on my left, on the shelf below the toothpaste! No idea how I missed it for so long! Grumbleconfusement!

By now, I’d spent such a long time in there, I was so late, I could use the shower now. So not all bad!

• I was doing well, so nicely,  until I was cleaning my rear-quarters, and set off Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding! It reminded me that old American Noir film with blood in the shower, but I can’t remember the name of it, stabbed in the shower, oh, I’ll look it up later. 
• I turned up the power on the shower, to wash away the blood away, but it kept coming. Oh, dearie me! 
• So, I just kept spraying it down the drain at regular intervals. Bad, this! 
• The good news is that I went through the whole long episode without dropping the shower-head once!
• Did well in the freshening-up and medicating departments. The new Clobetasone cream was really useful in stopping the bleeding. It stung a bit, like! 
• Getting dried without any problems, then getting dressed, as I was battling to get the PP’s on, over I went. All the fault of Shaking Shaun, and his inexpediently timed visit! Argh! 
• I stayed down for a minute, to assess any damage I might have done to my Herculean-like, trim, muscled, young firm body.  (Ahem!)
• Everything that had taken place during this mammoth ablution session paled into the ether. For after a look, sensing and a feel around, the only damage I could find was Arthur Itis’s left knee had been put out, and that snapped back as I rose from the floor, using the shower chair’s assistance. I was Mega-Superduper-Lucky there! A ginormous Smug-Mode grew!

Obviously, I was limping badly for a few minutes, but my spirits had grown, for some reason. Most likely by yours truly, having such good fortune? I was tickled-pink! And the legs and plates were looking so good! Well, apart from Arthur’s left patella.

Now, I was singing to myself as I went to the kitchen, and got the kettle on!

Got on the computer, and not long later, the intercom buzzed, it was the Iceland chap arriving. Naturally, when I pressed the top button, saw who it was, and pressed the bottom open-door button, the screen went black! Always some problem with this hard to hear, unreliable system! Tsk!

I told the chap about the intercom, not being awkward to use, unable to hear it, and it kept going blank when I try to let someone in. The chap said no-end of folks tell him the same. He obligingly left the bags in the doorway for me.

I took them through to the kitchenette, for sorting and checking, and found some errors had been made. Not the 18 medium eggs in place of six eggs, but in my rushing to get an order in so I could get the mayonnaise eggs, I’d got a few things misconstrued!

You see on the right, is a white bottle, which I to have ordered, and it was meant to be the same size as the pink, nearly empty one? I tried to work out why I should buy a £10 120 wash bottle of the Ylang 4.20 L Surf? The one I have is a 47 wash 1645ml one costing me £4.50, and that’s lasted me for months! Where do you start working out which the better value? Litres and Miliitres, too confusing for my arithmophobia and dyscalculia! I was grand with £.s.d, pints, fluid ounces and inches! Of course, since the stroke, there have been extra problems like this.

I got the flour for Jenny in a bag, and split the substitutes big box of eggs with her, and put a bag of white cobs in it. Then got the waste bags made up, and filled the three-wheeler with them. So much easier walking with the trolley, (but not on the buses too many moans about being in the way, Tsk!)

I phoned Jen to let her know I was going down with the flour. And set off to the rubbish chute with the bags. I couldn’t carry the food bag as well, so after depositing the waste in the chute, I nipped back to collect it. Then to the lift lobby.

The wait was not too long to get a lift, but while I was waiting, the Constructors only lift arrived, and a woman got out? Down the Jenny’s, had a little natter, Jen gave me monies for the flour, swapped cheerios, and back to the lifts.

And another lady got out of the constructors-only cage? These Covid-19 safety rulings are not being adhered to at all by some!

I wonder if the Coronavirus is for real, has sank-in yet? Ah, well, who am I? That’s a good question, I’ll try to find an answer later. Hehehe!

I got back inside the flat, and checked on the potatoes on the slow-cooker, and began to shell some peas. There I was, happy and contented a lark, the sunshine coming through the lethal new windows, and I basked in it for a few minutes, while I shelled the garden peas, dinking the mug of tasty Thompsons Punjabi tea, and dreaming of the betterer days, now gone.

I must have something about shelling peas, a distant memory of happier times perhaps? I certainly didn’t need to through all the painful experience of doing the fresh peas. Not with my supply of canned garden peas! Haha! My fearfully short moment of joy and contentment ended.

When I added some of the sugar, I’d bought from Morrisons into the saucepan. And realised I had not bought demerara, but caster sugar? Well, fancy that! Me, getting summat wrong! I bothered Jenny by ringing her up, and asked her if it was alright to use this different sugar? She explained that Castor, or Caster sugar, is standard sugar ground up more finely. I thanked her.

Then I asked myself a serious question; “How come you managed shops for Tesco and the Co-op for all those years, all that stocktaking, cash handling, and balancing the millions of trading stamps every Saturday night, and have actually forgotten what Caster sugar was?

My earlier elation dissipated a little further, as I knew the answer. I am losing it. Becoming affected or infected, with presenile dementia? The stroke didn’t help. Fast cometh to me, the old-timers disease, Alzheimer’s maybe? Nobody seems bothered, and I must be going potty because I’m not bothered either! Well, not at this moment I’m not.

What can one do? It’s obvious, put the kettle on again for a brew, back to Glengettie Gold this time. I spent a couple of minutes worth of nephelococcygia, and I spotted a helmeted face in the clouds. Tetched the camera to take a snap… Could I find the face again? Nope!

I set about emailing the link for yesterdays blog. (Better late than never. But I’ve had a busy day losing the plot!)

I got a Nottingham News Email, this was in it: Across Nottinghamshire and the city, the data shows varied rates across the seven local councils and Nottingham – with some regions registering increases and others seeing a drop in cases. The most notable area, is Bassetlaw, with the number of confirmed Covid-19 cases per 100,000 people more than doubling from 6.0 to 14.5 in the last seven days.

I got the oven on, it’s getting past my usual head-down time already!.

Aha, the intercom sounded off! It was the Amazon diabetic winter socks arriving.

Well, they look warm enough. The fight with the sock-glide could be a painful one, I didn’t expect them to be so thick?

Being the coward I am, and having managed without wearing socks for three months or more, I shall continue to abstain.

At least until it gets too cold for me, and I’ll have to recommence my daily, fearful, dangerous, shocking, hemerine struggle with the innocent-looking Sock Glide again!

Ah! The memories I have of my risky, injury ensuring, lethal morning tussles wit the glide!

The black-spotted fingers, the scraped knuckles, the blood flowing. The cursing, stubbing my toe on it, toppling over when using it, tearing the socks, and dropping the danged thing.

But it seems impervious to getting damaged. 

It just silently lays there on the shower chair, seemingly staring at me, not for want of company or feeling sad at not being used, oh, no!

It just can’t wait to get back to its meaning in life – To injure me as much as possible! Luckily, I have a good supply of pain-gel, a few Codien 60g, and liquid Morphine hidden in the medical cupboard, along with a tube of bruise-easer ointment, bandages and plasters at the ready, for when the Morning Altercations are forced to restart again!

Going bonkers, me? Mmm?

I am about to get the nosh sorted out now, five-hours later than planned originally. (I may give-up on making plans, they never come to fruition or work out right anyway! Tsk!)

I’ll carry on updating from this point, in the morning post.

Take care out there! May your foibles ferment with festivity, fun and financial gain!