Saturday 18th April 2020
Filipino: Sabado 18 Abril Abril 2020
03:15hrs: I woke up, with the theme tune, “Life, is the name of the game, and I wanna play the game with you” ringing in my head? It took me a while to recall where the tune was from.
It was the introduction to Bruce Forsyth’s Generation Game. What brought this to mind, I don’t know. But I do remember watching it all those years ago and being amazed at how much work Bruce put into it to make it work. My favourite Game Show of them all on TV.
On the radio, it was Just a Minute, with host Nicholas Parsons, Clement Freud, Kenneth Williams, Derek Nimmo, and Peter Jones, they were my preferred panellists. Two shows I hated to miss, and the reason for my buying my first tape recorder and DVD. Ah, they were the days!
I seem to remember getting home and putting the motorbike away in a rush, to get in and my new colour TV (Wigfalls 3/6d [17½p] a week rental) on to watch it. Happy Days! The Larry Grayson and Jim Davidson efforts at hosting the later shows, were as expected, abysmal. I just thought I’d mention it, like.
As I lay there, hearkening back to my more confident, happy and in good health days, the stomach-churning burst into life. Thus the one thing that mattered (I thought at the time), was to escape the £300, second-hand, none-working, c1968, rickety recliner, catch my balance and stick, to get to the wet room lickety-split! Which, I surprised myself in doing quickly and accident-free, Slight swagger mode adopted (Temporarily).
I shall not go into too much detail of the terrible, trying, tantamount to agony-ridden evacuation. But Constipation Conrad had the upper-hand in the battle. I was on the Throne for about 20-minutes. The crossword book as tackled. Blood flowed. And all with the one line of the ‘the Generation Game’ milling about in my head. Hehe!
Then, as I made my way to the kitchen, Toothache Terence kicked off. Soon to be joined by Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. And extra Cocodamol was taken with the Codeine and other medications. For about five minutes, the mind-haze and memory loss had me worried. I was so close to pressing the alarm wristlet, thinking what can tell them, how do I explain what I’m going through without sounding potty? I was so pleased when things seemed suddenly to go back to my usual, merely semi-confused state. Yet, puzzled to how quickly and abruptly, things changed again.
Of course, this triggered the fretting all over again, it always does when I have a memory blank, even a short couple of minutes one like this; I just had to check things, taps, lights, stove, door. When I got to the hallway, I found two letters on the floor.
One double-sided A4 from Citycare. I p[ointed out their plans an dedication to making sure we are all safe and instructed us what to do if we have any of the symptoms of the COVID-19 (Coronavirus). We have to call 0300 131 0300 – Option 1, then Option 5, between 0830am to 1700hrs pm, Monday to Friday. Being as it is Saturday morning now, I hope I do not get any symptoms for two days.
They also kindly gave us a 107 digit email address to use. That’s a guess at the number, cause Saccades-Sandra is playing up and I can’t focus properly to read it. Luckily, Saccades and other ailments I have are not sufficient to get me a weekly food parcel. So, I shall be of no bother to them. And am so glad that Nottinghamshire County Council, have supplied Sister Jane and hubby Pete with a delivered box of food weekly. Jane told me this while she was out shopping for eggs, bacon and some wine. They didn’t take the car or electric bike with them, that remained in the new garage at the mansion on the tree-lined avenue, with the eleven CCTV cameras, burglar alarms, pressure alarm pads and wine cellar. But, I’m contented in my three-roomed flat and being isolated and unable to get food.
Shame I don’t qualify for a weekly food parcel, but there you are. I’ll just stay here, with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters dying and Peripheral Neuropathy making me have accidents and dropping things, scolding myself etc., Mechanical Aorta valve replacement, Hernia Harold, Burgabasia-Bernie, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Stuttering Stephany, Anne Gyna, Rheumatoid Arthur Itis, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding away accompanied my Haemarrahoid Harold, Fluid Retention Robert, Furesomide induced wee-wees, Craig Cramps, Dizzy Dennis, Back-Pain-Brenda, falling over when I get an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance from Neuropathic Nigel’s right leg, Conrad Constipation, Reflux Valve Roger sticking, Prediabetes Petunia demands, injecting Enoxaparin in my tummy, battling and getting injured by the Sock-glide, coping with the memory blanks, and picking at the bloodied scars from Clopidogrel Clive’s growths on my legs.
As I said, at least I don’t qualify for a food parcel, like others who have cars, wealth, health and the nerve to accept their food parcels. At least I have Jenny ♥ keeping her eye on me, and others, and a caretaker who brought me a bottle of bleach when he heard I couldn’t get enough.
But, it doesn’t bother me at all! Tsk! Hehehe!
I made a start on checking Emails and went to check up on the latest Coronavirus statistic.
Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at just the wrong, the most inopportune time!
The right hand did one of its as yet rare, shooting off in varying directions, just as I was typing. The bout merely lasted a few seconds.
But it was long enough for me to get this these two windows to appear on the computer screen!
I don’t know what the fingers or hand hit to get these up, but it frit me I can tell yers!
Being a computer workings idiot is not easy. Becoming one was!
I thought I’d buggered it up now! Understanding things, working out what it was on the screen was beyond me.
Fear of losing the computer and depression took over the mind for a minute or two.
I closed the windows and sighed muchly with relief when things 
seemed to be working okay.
Maybe, if things ever get back to normal, I might be able to find a college or something that runs courses on understanding the workings of a computer. What am I thinking? with my memory? And the courses will be night ones! And Nicodemus’s nerve-ends are dying anyway, so are not going to get any better, only worse, which means I’ll have to eventually give up computing all together, that hurts!
I continued to search for the virus figures. I don’t think they are anything to get too hopeful about yet.
I went to make a mug of Glengettie and came out of the doldrums a little. Especially as I made the brew, without any spills, shakes or nerve-end interference. That was a nice change.
Then, carrying the tea into the junk room, I dropped the mug! I was so low in spirits, it didn’t seem to bother me much. I just cleaned up the mess, thinking how lucky I was in not breaking the cup.
I was determined to pull myself from the darkness.
The cold sunshine went in, and a tiny few spots of a shower fell. It lasted only for a minute or so. I carefully made another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. Then took a couple of pictures of Chestnut Walk. There was still an earthy petrichor smell already, which was lovely.
A couple of free parking spaces, and no illegal parking at this end of the walk, ah, Saturday innit! Oh, I just noticed there was a bit of naughty parking on the double yellow lines. I think they have wisely decided to ignore this activity, with us having so few spaces available.
At long last, I got the updating started for the Friday blog. Soon got it finished, thanks to Nicodemus being kind, and despite Shaking Shaun doing his best to knobble my typing. Haha!
The rear-end wind continues to plump and plop, but not foul-smelling. Ah, I must take a mug of Macrogol first. If Colin Cramps lets me, he’s having another bash at the poor old fingers now. Dangwangles!
Checked the comments. Then some bits on Pinterest. Next, the WordPress Reader. Then onto TFZer Facebooking. Then I tried to get an Iceland order in, but no luck, slots unavailable. Even if they were, I can still only be allowed one bottle of bleach. Nowhere near enough for a week for me. Thankfully, Robert, our caretaker brought me a bottle that’s getting me through for a few days.
Much CorelDrawing, making graphics for the blog tomorrow.
Mental fatigue made me leave the CorelDrawing.
I got the handwashing sorts out. Dressing gown, jammie bottoms and socks. All done, wrung and hung. I put the gown to hang in the wet room.
Got the ablutions done. No sock-glide confrontation, I left the bamboo socks off. The dropsies were a little higher than of late, that would be due to Nicodemus’s nerve-ends not sending any contact messages to the brain. At times this can get confusing and so frustrating. Especially when folks say, ‘Just be careful!’ Looking 
at me as if I’m an idiot.
Which is true! Haha! Because the neurotransmitters fail to tell the brain, as they come on and off-line variably and at their will.
The shaving produced a few tiny nicks, nowt serious. Little Inchies lesion had bled only a few spits, again, no hassle; even the applying of the Cortiscord cream was not too painful. Which was a nice change for me!
I got the nosh sorted out. Chicken breast, and tried the weirdly named Iceland fries, branded as ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’. They were okay. The chicken breasts were a bit rubbery. Some seaweed crispies and an apple on the side on another plate. Two mini-Vienesse lemon cakes. No, that’s what they are called. I went to look at the part empty box. Lemon Whirls. A can of the delightfully tangy Clementine drink, too.
Ate it all, and I’d had my fill. Oh, the apple was awful, soft, dry! Never mind. A Flavour Score of 6/10.
I went to do the washing up and espied some dogs taking their owners for a walk in the bottom field.
I wish I could have a cat here in the flat, but I can understand the impracticality of it fully. I can take tumbles easily enough now, with the dizzies and neuropathic dancing legs, Arthur Itis… and a multitude of others with a ‘Let’s-Have-Inchcock-all-over-fancying’ nature. Imagine me having a pet to fall over as well! Hehehe! But it’s still sad making.
I got down in the Zyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and pilfering my money, recliner.
I watched a film all the way to the end; but with perhaps about fifteen few-minute nod-offs in between. Waste of time, I couldn’t follow the plot.
I lay afterwards, trying to ignore the rampant Thought-Storms, mostly of guilt, self-hatred, and isolation problems.
I must have nodded off eventually, cause I woke up in the morning! Hangalisationing Horror-time!
00:30hrs: I stirred and passed wind, the gurgling, bubbling and churning from the innards, convinced me to rise and get to the Porcelain Throne with some haste. 
The visit to the wet room proved a total failure, despite the gurgling from within, and escapages of wind, there was no movement whatsoever. Still, I got a couple of answers on the crossword done. Haha! 
Off to the kitchen, got the kettle on and sorted out the hanging to dry washing. I did note that the shirts seemed to have regained some of their original colour, (All bar the expensive brown thin one, that changed to green!) which initially baffled me a bit. Then I recalled that I’d used the Woolite liquid I bought so cheaply from the Bargain Shop.
A glance at the bottle labels, and I noted it claimed to Revive Colours of darks. Blimey, a product claim that is true and works! Well, I never! I bet when I can get back to the store to get some more, it’ll have sold out! It’s bound to, my luck ain’t that good! Hahaha!
As I took the tea back to the computer, I saw that I had gained some more bruises on the arm this time. What causes this, which of the ailments are to blame is another mystery of my beloved Woodthorpe Court. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the spacetime continuum. With Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, illusions, delusions, and hallucinations, rife. Amongst my vague, palaverous, chimerical, inconsequential, torturous fight for existence! Back to the bruising. I looked up what might cause them: Medications that cause easy bruising, include Warfarin, Thrombosis, and Clopidogrel; Huh! I’ve got ’em all! So it should be expected to bruise easily. Which I do. There you are, at last, I’ve found something I’m good at! Gasconade Moment Enjoyed!
Made a brew, and took some leaflets back to the computer with me. In a vain hope to get some clues as to which tablet is which. 
The non-activity from the rear-end, might be partly through my having tried the Halloumi Fries, from Iceland last night? They were not cheap at £3 for 190g, but something told me they might taste good, and they did! According to the label, the only content was Halloumi Cheese? I looked it up and found it contains 
As I went to get some mushrooms and leeks into the crock-pot ready to put on when I go out later, Toothache Tim and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley both kicked off! I put some light soy sauce and red sea salt in with the food – now all I have to dop is remember to put in on a low-setting, and turn on the pot as I leave the flat. Are you offering any odds on my not forgetting? 
Down in the lift and walked along Chestnut Way, no raining, and it didn’t feel too cold, by the time I got to the end of the road and turned down Winchester Street, the pavement was again blocked by vehicles. So, more of the risky, life-threatening as I had to go on the road to get by. Harumph!
They will contact me to arrange an appointment, and put me on a weekly ‘training’ course, locally, for 19 weeks.
I limped slowly, deep in thought, then along to the Lidl Store. Not many customers about this morning. I got inside and had a meander around, looking for bargains or some tasty-looking treats. I resisted the temptation of looking at the cream cakes, for those are a definite no-no from now on, I think.
Crossed over the road and made my way up to the L9 bus stop. Where I was greatly cheered to see Margaret and Doris amongst others, sat there at the shelter. I mentioned the diagnosis. Someone said: “Your not the luckiest of buggers are you?” Nayer a truer word spoken mate! Margaret, with her deadpan delivery, soon had me laughing as we nattered on. Bless her! 
building, Generalfeldmarschalless Warden and desk-top dancer Julie opened the fire door to remind me to get the key-fob done. 
The fob was soon done, then I made my way back to the flat through the link-passageway. During which, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley enjoyed herself with a rather intense bit of quagswagging.Not for long, though. I got to the Woodthorpe Court lift lobby, and into the cage, and up to the flat, without seeing anyone whatsoever.
The first job, I got some parsnips chopped and in the pan simmering with some sea-salt. 
00:05hrs: I stirred into mock-life, looked around and saw much evidence of nocturnal-nibbling having been committed, and pondered on my hopes and dreams, fears and worries. Then thought Sod-it. Guilty-Mode Engaged! 
Then, I realised I was half-on the recliner, with the better leg hanging partly-off, and I was sitting on my left hand? After freeing the arm and hand, I found this had given me apaesthesia in the thumb and fingers. So, as I used my appendages to help raise myself out of the £300 second-hand seat, I found that I dropped back into it with a thud – and clouted my right elbow against the arm of the recliner! (Fancy that, I said?)
It was eight hours too early for me to use the hoover to clean up, I thought, not that I was bothered about it. I got the kettle on, made whar will probably be the highlight of the day, a mug of Glengettie Gold tea! With the chemist leaving without tablets and medications for five days, I nearly forgot to take them. Phwert! 
No sooner had I poured out the brew, the demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room I limped, with the stick and picking up the camera on the way, to have a view of the state of the legs this morning. They had regained some colour which was a good thing, but they were yellow! 
The evacuation went okay. Sticky-messy, but little pain and no bleeding. So, fate had slipped me a teaser in there? Something to get me feeling optimistic, before the storm, perhaps? Or am I being too pessimistic? Mmm! Ah, well, I did the cleaning up, returned to fetch the now almost cold mug of tea, and got the computer on to update the Thursday blog. 
I made brew watched U-Tube while I drank it, with a few orange chocolate digestive bikkies. 
The ablutions next. And a jolly decent effort it was too! The dropsies were only about six in total. (The neurotransmitter transmissions to the brain of my synapse nerve contacting, were really the best they have been for days – of course, it didn’t last long, but was much appreciated while it lasted! [Yee-Haa!]) The sock-glide battle was injury-free! The medicating was painless, and the bleeding was to a minimum. It seemed to be going well, all foreign to me, I was a bit worried! 
I opted to get the handwashing done, to avoid the need when I got back from the shopping. My EQ told me (and it was right) that I would be too done-in and shattered to do it then! So, it was done, wrung and hung to dry. A bit like I felt, Hehehe!
Back down the same route in reverse, with a few words of self-condemnation, and thought Winwood into Winchester Court. I noticed through the window that the rain was now a lot worse. 
I hobbled along Front Street in the rain, slowly getting the clothes soaked a little more, and somehow the precipitation had found its way into my left shoe as limped along? Surely this shoe can’t be leaking? It’s only about the third time I’ve worn them from new. Knowing my luck, I wondered why I thought that!
Fulton Foods: Oh dear, they had some pull-top opening garden peas. I just had to get some. Tsk! I got some Galaxy darker-milk chocolate, and a 1litre bottle of white vinegar for cleaning. 
I had to do a bit of quick thinking then. The L9 bus was due in twenty-minutes. Asda, across the road, me wanting some Lemon Curd yoghourt, but would I get them in time to catch the bus? I hastened to the store, as the rain got a little more substantial. 
shelves, but could not see any lemon yoghourt whatsoever? No staff around to ask. I decided to leave it. But spotted they had some rather temptingly delicious-looking blood orange dark chocolate bars, so I grabbed one and made my way to the self serve tills. I paid up and shot out as fast as my little, plump, hairy legs would let me! Up the hill to the bus stop. Where, a shoulder charging, a tut-tutting gang of people were shouldering for a position under the shelter to keep out of the rain. I didn’t take part, too risky!
I made straight back to the flat. And, oddly enough, as I struggled to get the trolley through the door, the little grey lid shot off again. I think it might have to go? I detached the wire basket, emptied the trolley bag and got all the things into the kitchen. Got them all stored away, found the receipts and put them near the computer for taking details from in the morning. For I sure was too tired to be up to doing do any computerisationing now.
I put the t
With my concentration so bad at the moment, all I need is any of the following to kick-off: Saccades Sandra, Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun or Neuropathic Nigel’s neurotransmitter failure to start, and it may never get finished. My Koyaanisqatsi, lack of proper education and knaifatic upbringing is handicap enough on there own, without the unwanted or asked for ailments helping. Humph! 
I made a start on the updating as soon as I’d had made a tasty cuppa of Glennghettie tea, wash and took the medications. 
Got the nosh sorted. The place looked like a battleground by the time I’d got it served up. Dropped saucepan, spilt over bowel, scattered garden peas, blood from cutting the finger, crumbs… Humph! 
Washed the pots and did the handwashing.
23:50hrs: I semi woke up. Had a mental battle to regain control of my mind, passed a vast, blasting burst of wind. Combed my hair with a pink lawn rake, and the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Like a young whipper-snapper, I almost bounded out of the recliner, jumped up, and skipped my way to the wet-room without using a stick and singing Wayward Wind aloud and proud… and started to wash my well-toned muscular young, lithe body in a bath of Guinness, and lit my pipe…
Blimey, it took, me over three hours just to get a few Thought graphics done. The concentration is not good at all. Confusion reigning in the brain-box.
I turned as the expected Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something, and flail about dance’, (as Tim Hancock had Christened it, Hehe!) burst into action. I was in the hallway, so avoided going over, with the help of the handily placed close-to-hand walls. You’ve got to laugh! Although Mick was taken aback a bit, he’d not seen me have an unplanned imitation of a cross between the Hokey Cokey and the Twist before.
Then I realised after getting it served up and on the tray, I had the chips in the oven as well! What a plonker! So I got the other dish and put the fries onto that.
Taking off my jammy bottoms, was a little akin to a Bull-in-China-shop! Humph! I knocked the following, although it might have been more, but, I can recall that two cans of body spray, the kitchen towel, my scissors, the Germoloid and the Clobetasone cream, and the crossword book and pen, all tumbled off onto the floor. The pen went down the back of the cabinet, so will probably be found after I have snuffed it. I managed to retrieve the other stuff, much to the annoyance of Anne Gyna and Arthur Itis! Tsk! 
did the teeth, only dropping the brush and toothpaste once each. Then the nasal spray. Moved on to shaving, and the foam can went twice, and the razors repeatedly, so much so, that I decided to do flannel wash first, hoping the Peripheral Neuropathy would have calmed down a bit, and the nerve-end would be working a bit better by then. The flannel went a couple of times out of my grip, as did the carbolic soap. 
got back to shaving, I have to say I felt a bit a Smug and Clever Mode come over me. For the dropsies had reduced tremendously as the nerve-ends were getting the message to the brain at last! I moved up to a Sycophantic-Smarmy-Mode
went to get the handwashing finished. I got it done and wrung, but a problem when I started to get it hung! The flaming hangar that I use for the jammie-bottoms, shattered into pieces! 
Shortly afterwards, the Iceland man cameth. I mentioned the substitutes and he told me, nothing to do with me, you should have an email, sort it with them, not me! I signed for the goods and he shot off like Mr Bolt, only quicker! Haha! It was plain to me, that Iceland was forever letting folk down, and some customers were blaming the delivery men?
nt through from the warmth of Windwood Court into the bitterly cold Woodthorpe, a ladies voice called asking if I was alright, it was Chrissie (I think), with some bad news. Mo in the hospital had passed away. This put me in a right bad frame of mind, and I nearly had a cry for Mo, she was a right character, we all liked her so. 
I decided to get the things ready for the meal later. The first thing was to get the mushrooms in the slow cooker. I added some sea salt and a splash of the Sukang Puti vinegar. This Malaysian made brewed vinegar is so tangy. 
Mmm! 
I reached up into the cupboard above the kettle to get the plastic jar of demerara sugar to add some to the peas and spuds! 
I got the oven warming and when it heated enough, I put some smoked haddock and a battered whiting fillet in and watched over it cooking. I dare not keep an eye one it, after today’s series of mishaps. I carefully got the plate filled with feast-like foods, and when I got around to taking a photographicalisation of it, Shaking Shaun shunted into this Saturday’s shenanigans.
23:45hrs: Ah, I woke up with the immediate needs of old this morning. Nothing mattered more than getting to the Porcelain Throne in time! So much so, that I nearly fell out of the £300 second-hand recliner, dropped the walking stick, and passed-wind all the way to the wet room, and barely made it in time. The evacuation started of its own accord, but soon needed some painful encouragement from me to complete things. 
But it left the tummy aching a bit. Not surprising, with having gone so long without the pleasure of an evacuation, Hehe! 
Washed and cleared up and back to make the brew! 
As I made a start on this post: Guess What? 
carbolic soap slipped away a few times (5). 
When I started to clean the wet room shower floor after the session, I came across this, whatever it is near the floor drain? 
I was spraying some of the Poundland Store’s eau de toilette for men on my treble-chinned neck, and the top came off, leaving me smelling pungently-strong of the perfume rather! Oh, dearie me! 
I applied the Phorpain Gel, Germaloid cream, Clobetasone cream, Corticosteroid cream, Daktacort lotion, Capsaicin and Clopidogrel ketoconazole. Olive-oiled the ear-holes. Salved the cracked lips. Savlon cream on the injured toe. Got the hearing aids, checked the batteries were working and put them in. Put the correct spectacles on. Then got myself dressed up warmly, got the three-wheel-walker-guide, and took the black bags with me dropping them down the waste chute, en route to the bus stop. (There’s no nipping out quickly when you get old, yer know. Hehe!) I was worn out before I left the flat! 
I popped into the Obergruppenführeresses holding-cell office. Handed some nibbles out, wished the ma great new year and thanked them for being there, and meandered into t the big Social Area room, and sateth me down, and got out the crossword book. Fifteen minutes later, (one answer got), I moved out to the bus stop.
We arrived in the City Centre and parted after getting off of the bus. I meandered into the Poundland Store. The knees made progress slow and painful, but there was no rush. A lot of the shelves were looking a little threadbare, as to be expected at this time of year. I got to the self-serve tills, they were not busy at all. A lady put my things through for me in no time and put them in the carrier bag for me. Thank you, Madam! I left the store and redistributed the goods, so I could cope with them betterer. Putting the more substantial items in the trolley bag, and the lighter in the carrier, to hang it over the handlebars. I’d got in them: Pork Farms pork pies (2), pea snacks, and walnuts. Some screwdrivers with different heads on them (2 packs of 4). A chunky orange Kit-Kat, Orange flavoured chocolate digestives (A weakness, I know!), cashew nuts and a Dettol lemon-scented antiseptic disinfectant spray. 
I split and buttered the cobs, leaving the oven chips to brown off a bit more. Then added the fries to the chopped pork pie and beetroots on the plate. Added the fresh orange juice and lemon yoghourt to the dish. Along with the medications, and got down in the recliner to feast. Flavour-rating, a worthy 8/10!
Huh! Get my head down? Not a cat in hell’s chance! The old brain-storms of worries, fears, anticipations, guilt, and none-expectations of any improvement in life. Soddening any remaining sediments, vestiges
I went in to get the oven and pan of mushrooms with balsamic vinegar in the pan. No doubt about it being a Bank Holiday, all the cars parked outside the houses tell me that.
I clambered to free my blubbery roly-poly bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured recliner. I had to appreciate the lack of attention from Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger, Saccades Sandra, Dizzy Dennis and Duodenal Donald. My balance was a bit off, and the autonomic nerves missing signals to send to the brain, were, I reckon the chief culprits for this. But the finger-ends were not too bad at all, sensitivity-wise. So I moved into a sort of semi-contented but with reservations mode.
Blow me down, 
All done too quick for me to learn anything, but I now have an ordinary mobile, with a battery that lasts for longer than six hours! An old Nokia. Gone is the ever bleeping internet that I didn’t use. 
Handed a few nibbles out, and set off on a hobble to Sherwood. It was a bit nippy out there, and not a lot of folks about. 
Up in the elevator, and still, no wee-wee or Porcelain Throne demands were called for 
like to try them on Sunday, they have a use-by date of 6th January? A flavour-rating of 7/10. 
in seconds. 
Not bringing in (or needing) the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-wee-Bucket) last night, I went to the wet room for the wee-wee. And, was caught out, after all the weak efforts of the previous few weeks, by the LHNPOS (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Pain-Or-Sensation) wee-weeing that exploded out! The colouration was a shock too. Or I should say, the lack of colour was highly-noticeable! Mmm? I started a sneezing bout afterwards, no connection I’m sure. I bet that went down well with the neighbours, Oh dear! I had to clean up bounced back wee-wee from the jet-like evacuation, and 
I got the kettle on, took the medications and then a photo through the unwanted, dislike, thick-framed, light & view-blocking, can’t get to, to clean them new kitchen window. 
I got on with the updating of the stuck-indoors Sunday post. It didn’t take me too take long for two reasons. One, there were so few photographs to use that needed amending. Two, the finger-ends peripheral neuropathy and autonomic nerves were rarely giving me any bother! I could not help going into Appreciative- Smug-Mode! 
I made another brew, this time of the superb extra-strong Glengettie tea. 
I checked last night’s handwashing that was hanging up above the sink, and above the Einstein-needed to understand how to operate (For old senile sods like me, this is the last type of heater we needed fitting!) wall storage heater. I suppose that decisions on which to buy and install, depending on back-handers at the top? They really are like the intercom system, just too confusing to use! They have tiny buttons we cannot see or read, let alone risk pressing them. Leaving us with no option but to just leave them on, and feed the greed of the Utility Company bosses? Humph! I got carried away a bit there, sorry.
I moved the handwash clothing around. I and had to carefully put the jammie-bottoms on the much-fell over, bent twisted but still working tubular airer. And have to keep moving them around to get some benefit from the machine. Which in turn helped me find where I’d left the new £15 picker-upperer, as I noticed it hanging on the corner of the airer. Haha! 
Closed down and set out again. Down in the lift. The corridor fire escape door was still ajar as I passed by. No one in the ILC’s room. On and through to Winchester Court. Doris and other ladies sat in the foyer. I stayed with them a while, chinwagged, then out to the bus stop. Where I spotted a visit from the Ossifers of the law car parked near the turning island.
Christine, Cyndy… oh, about fifteen of us Winwoodonians gathered. Where more gossiping about nothing and everything took place. Insults exchanged, sarcastic gems noted, and the world was put to rights. Hee-hee! I took a photograph of Winchester Court from the beneath it.
Then a photograph of Winwood and Woodthorpe Courts from the bus stop. The City Bound bus arrived, and only a few of us need it, all the other members of the gang waited for the Sherwood, Arnold and Bestwood L9. The lady driver was kind and waited patiently for me to get settled in the side-saddle seat, and checked if I was all seated before moving off ♥. 
Not much exercise here then. The place was busy, but not very noisy as it usually is. Maybe some of the shoppers, who walked into me, shoulder charged me, pushed trolleys into me, drove over my foot, etc. were still hung-over? I wished I had a breathalyser I could have produced, for a bit of fun! ” Being in charge of a shopping-trolley while above the legal limit or unfit through drink”? Or maybe, “Careless Shopping (Shopping without due care and attention)”, or “Shopping without Insurance or an MOT”? Hehehe! 
Sherwood Vale bus stop without any problems, by which time Dizzy Dennis had left me altogether. (Manic-Smile-Of-Relief-Adopted) When I got down the hill to the bus stop, I thought I might have a job seeing the bus arrive. The, oh, so cold sun and vehicles blocked or hindered my view. 
And for tonight’s nosh, some mushroom pate, that I plan to go on a Sourdough baguette and small cobs, with sliced sea-salted tomatoes, with beetroot and garden peas. Which I set about making. Baguettes and cobs in the oven. I got the other stuff on the plate ready. 
