Inchcock Diary & Ode to Putin, Tuesday 7th June 2022

Tuesday 7th June 2022

07:30hrs: Woke wanting a wee-wee. I thought it would never come; it must have been 15hrs without one. It was hardly worth it, a painful sprinkle or two. At least the bladder is working again, so fingers crossed!

I set, too, giving myself a medical MOT. And taking ‘As needed’ non-prescription medications. There is no need for ointmentating this morning, No Little Inchies fungal lesion or Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding whatsoever! Excellent results on the blood pressure machine, best for ages!

The only thing not so good was the body temperature. That was way down low again. Been under the NHS’s recommended 35°c for a few days now. I don’t feel poorly; I am a lot chirpier in myself this morning. Although I felt so cold when it obviously isn’t?

I took some under-tongue CBS oil. And a Hemp capsule too.

Got the ears well saturated with the Olive oil. Let it sink in, and then I filled up the canals with more. This never seems to help, but I’ve got into the habit of doing it each morning now.

Then took a Dioctyl to help skid up the darned Porcelain Throne evacuations. Messy. Gooey, watery! Eurgh!

I got a few Warfarin tablets ready, so the carers will have some available for the evening doses.

Then, had a bash at syringing both ears. Not only a total waste of time; I failed to remove any wax at all, but I made such a mess I had

to clean up the water that had sprayed out off or missed the ears! Hehe!

Got the kettle on and sorted the laundry, not forgetting that talk-a-lot Esther would give me some hassle if it wasn’t ready and sorted when she arrived later this morning! Not that she scares me an anything like that, of course. Ahem!

I took this snap of the lovely morning sky with its ever-changing hues. Mother Nature, again shows us her beauty! The beauty we have been destroying for years.

Got the computer on and started on the WordPress reader and commenting, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chime brought forth Carer Richard. I thought the lad was late coming; he’s had extra calls on again and was in a rush because he had a four-hour training session later when he finishes work with the Diabetes team to get through. No time for any good natterings today again. I think he felt guilty about it, so I tried to cheer him up, wished him all the best, and gave him a bag of treats. Then, I walked (well, hobbled) with Richard to the lift lobby and wished him well for the meeting.

Took this photo of the car park in front of Woodthorpe Court from the kitchenette window. Made a brew of Glengettie tea and was about to return to the computer with the nug of tea – but circumstances changed…

As usual with Neuropathy Pete, his timing caused the optimum amount of pain and hassle. An involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance made me drop the cup as I grabbed Metal-Micky and the side of the sink to keep from going over. Once more, it was over in seconds, but I still managed to clout my knee on the edge of a floor cupboard. Which awakened Cartilage Cathy in agony! Humph!

Sorted myself out and took an extra Codeine. And fond this photo of a meal from which I can’t work out? It was not a good photo in any way, shape or form, so it might be one that I meant to delete from the file?

Started on the Snippets blog, and the Iceland delivery arrived. I let him in through the intercom box in the hallway, and I cleared a path to put the bags into.

The driver took the bags through to the kitchen for me. Gave him a choice of plonk cans in thanks. He opted, I noticed, for the Rum and coke. Hehe! Good for him; I hope it cheered him up a smidge.

They sent the Rustlers for Richard, sugar snap peas, mushrooms and some new Pork & Pickle Bites. Three for a fiver, so they must be good. One for Josie, one for Richard and one for Esther. I got some small apples that, hopefully, my lesser-teethed mouth can manage to eat. Har-har! They had no small vine tomatoes in stock but have sent me a pack of large tomatoes, Dutch, that had a sell-by date for today. No charge!

The best thing they had sent was the No-Moo ice creams and No-Bull burgers. The best of any burgers I have tried! The ice cream is by far superior in taste to what one might call natural ice cream. Grrreat Flavour both! I’d have ordered more, but I dared not with Iceland’s record of crap unrelated substitutions!

I had another go at getting the Snippet Ode done. (I did get it finished, but not until I’d been grafting on it, on & off, for another nine hours!) Esther arrived and came talkingly into the room. She still wasn’t near enough for me to hear her, and I feared that she may have something vital as she went into the hall, front, and living rooms.

It’s not so bad when she’s face to face and not shouting at me rather than talking to me. Esther, bless her, has a habit of talking and carrying on. Esther keeps talking to me from the rear of my ear lobes as she turns away… the peace and quiet are nice. But there is always danger in this… She has a great memory and thinks because she’s told me something, I must have heard it and will remember it. (Both are impossible in my condition, Haha!)

Then, a week later, I get an ear-bashing from about 4 inches distance and am informed that “I told you that last week!” telling offs. Luckily I can rest assured that Esther will nip off into the other room to have a nosey around my boxes and occasionally iron a shirt… but talking to me all the time from the other room… still, I knew what to expect. Hehe! Obviously, I had forgotten something or not heard it. I’m glad I got the pork & pickle thingamabobs for her now. Giving her then assuaged her aggression. I joke, of course… Erm? She’s an angel, really.

I got the ready meal into the oven and had roughly 40 minutes before it was cooked. I must not fall asleep!

Back to doing the blog, I trudged. ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and I wearily (Mentally) went to the door. It was Josie, returning the tray and things for me from the Sunday meal. Bless her cotton socks; she enthused over the taste of this Sunday’s chilli stew! That cheered me up a bit! She even asked if I used to be a chef? Oh dearie me! My EQ was nervous at this. Naturally, I had no idea why at the time. A feeling of foreboding matured…

I got on with the Snippet blogging again! So deep in concentration… still making errors after cock-ups, though. Then it dawned on me that the food was in the oven!!!

Grade A: It looked like this after I’d burnt my fingers getting the tray out of the oven post haste! Not good, is it? But I was so tired and weary that I still used it and made a meal of sorts out of it.

I added some BBQ sauce to the tray. Got some slices of Milk Roll bread, tomatoes and sugar snap peas onto the tray.

I was part mad at myself, well darned annoyed with myself, and so tired and drained, I didn’t get too agitated. Yet I still laughed at myself as I tried to dismantle the encrusted burnt meal to get at some edible bits of food. It helped in having some bread and sauce to soak some resuscitated bits to eat.

By the time I’d finished burnt food mining, which was tasty, believe it or not, bits of burnt food had been scattered far and wide on my stomach folds, down the pants, on the tray, and on the floor and recliner cushion. The carpet took on a new design; there were many black, ash-like bits of residue on it. I faced a long task in getting things sorted… and the kitchen and oven needed cleaning attention as well.

I was all in by the time I got things semi-put right. I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea and ate a huge bowl full of veggie ice cream! I finished it and lay there as I dropped off to sleep – it was so good that I think I dreamed of sleeping…

♫Oh, Susana♫ Chimed out, and Carer Valerie came in. I’d been up and about for around 12 hours by then, and waking up after five minutes of sleeping was not what I wanted… Hehehe! I remembered to give Valerie her Pork & Pickle whatsits, though.

I felt awful but could not resist the urge to finish the blog. The internet went down… now I was getting annoyed!

I pressed on and got the Snippets blog finished at long last. It stayed that way; it was now gone midnight! I realised then that I had not done the ablutions today!

Humph!

ODE TO PUTIN

Is it true that hopes and expectancies are always there?
Putin’s are conspicuous, World Domination, I fear…
He’s somewhat of a Worldwide parcel courier?
Soon, bigger, dirtier packages will be sent, and nuclear…
Where will the scumball strike next? Europe and Asia, it’s unclear…
Anywhere, somewhere, possibly a country that’s weaker?

Is it true that he wears a lemon and pink brassier?
Shags Igor Sechin, his First Deputy Prime Minister?
He laughs at citizens dead or gathered for warmth around a brazier,
The man could not be any more selfish and crazier!

I insult the shithead cause there’s nothing else I can do…
But I would, if I could, send him a can of poisoned Irish stew,
I wonder if he likes it from his minions in his rear?
He’d like to make his competition dead or disappear?
What competition? He’s got more weapons & forces than we do…
He’s more soldiers in Moscow’s Red Square!

We cannot afford to send troops there…
We’ve not got enough, nor has anyone else, to be fair…
I wish we could send him Tony Blair…
Notice he’s not volunteered to do any damage repair?
Putin offers and hopes only for death and despair…
To the rest of the world, we can only die or forebear…
Unless you bribe him if you’re a financier?
Then he just might take a fancy to yer?

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock Diary & Odes, Fri 27th May 2022

Diary & Odes

Blotchy-Faced?

INCHIES MORNING ODE

I looked in the mirror last night; a terrible sight!
It was as if I’d been battered in a fistfight,
Blotches, pale eyes, a depression, it did incite…
How do I get into this mentally-inspired plight?
The physical ailments, I’m coping with them alright…
Although some of them can at times be a fight…
Cataracts, neuropathy, deaf, etc. have ruined my rike,
I’ve no confidence left; I feel like a troglodyte!

Was my being born an accident or oversight?
Mother ran away, was the start of my many a fike…
In social interactions, at 76, I’m still a neophyte…
Which doesn’t explain why my eyes and skin are so white?
The red patches remind me of the pox and bryophyte…
But I’m going to stop worrying… well, I might…
Things come to me, ailments, fears and many a blight…
What future I’ve left is not looking too bright!

I need to do something, like mind-defragging,
Free the tension, keep the tongues from wagging,
Cause it’s no use hiding and camouflaging…
My failures, incompetency and my not belonging!
My faults in the future, I’ll be acknowledging,
I’ll start with cutting out the foul language and effing…
Cut down my time blogging and cybersurfing!
From overeating, I’ll start abstaining,
Why do all that, you may be asking?
I can’t remember now, and that’s alarming!

YOU CAN TELL HE IS CHEERING UP A BIT, CAN’T YOU

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Friday 27th May

04:30hrs: I woke with the usual jump but soon regained all possible control (Which was not a lot) of my brain. And responded niftily to the call from Bladder Blair for a wee-wee.

Washed and made a brew of Thompsons’ Signature tea. Got on the computer and started to get the photos on.

These on the right are from last evening after I’d got the nosh consumed and settled down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner.

But I kept getting up again to photograph the sky.

Resettled but dozed for half an hour and shot wide awake again. Humph!

And the glow from the sky was coming through the curtain. I just had to, and I did, get up yet again to take these three pictures on the left of the evening late sunsetting.

These were a lot more colourful than the earlier ones.

The first one I took and made was while making a brew of Glengettie tea. By the time I’d made the mug, the rain had stopped, and the whole sky had changed colour with some interesting orange-hued puffer clouds near the horizon.

Mother nature never seems to stop amazing me.

I started to update the Wednesday/Thursday blog. Then within minutes, I had to return to the wet room, in need of the Porcelain Throne. So, I did!

A messy Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation again, but not as bad as yesterday. Not one of my better ones! I opted to get the ablutions done while I was in there.

The teeth bled; I dropped the razor and banged my shoulder on the sink, bending down to retrieve it. Then proceeded to give me several cuts shaving, under the chin, the ear-hole, and…wait for this… my left index finger! Then as I looked in the shaving mirror as I was cleaning it, I saw the blotches all over my face! Worra state! And the eye sockets looked proper pink?

Carer Valerie arrived. She got the medications sorted out, and we managed a little natter between us. And Val took the laundry with her and the waste bag, saying as Arni did… “I’ll be back!” Hehe!

I went back onto the blog and got it finished and posted off. Pinterested some photos and got on Facebook catch-up.

Then the Amazon Morrison order arrived. A lovely foreign lady, polite and sociable gal, bless her cotton socks. Three items were out of stock. And the onion chips were substituted with curry chips. Not sure that I will be keen on them, but, you never know, they might taste alright for me. At least I got the red potato fritters and one of the three battered chips I wanted.

Then, I got the things sorted and stored. There didn’t seem much to go in the freezer, which was just as well cause there was no room in the drawers anyway. I did get a loaf of bread in.

The fridge didn’t look anywhere as near full as usual after a delivery? Was I getting good and ordering less?

Well, no, not really. Why the heck I ordered a packet of Thompson’s Signature tea bags? I don’t know. I’ve got six packages of Thompson’s Punjana, two of J Sainsbury Red label extra strong, and a box of Glengettie in stock already? Oh, and a bix of Co-op 99 as well!

I got the flower treats that should have been coming on Monday for today. My EQ told me to. There will be something occurring on Monday medically, mayhaps, he tells me? I rang Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell her they were here, and when she came later, she kindly took a bunch to Francis for me. I can’t recall their names, but there were two different types. She had a choice of whichever she fancied.

I returned to finish off the Facebooking and then comments on WordPress. I got a call from my precious Hristina, the Warfarin DVT blood nurse; she will be calling twixt 10-1200hrs on Monday for the following test sample. I added it to the Google calendar. Got the Blood Pressure figured out. A bit high this morning. But this does happen now and then; it may have been with me hearing Hristina’s voice?

The body temperature was low, but nowt to worry about.

Carer Valerie returned the laundry for me. Thanked her, and off she went. I visited the junk room to hang the clothes. I was disappointed in the state of the jammie bottoms, all creased up, one leg inside out. One long-sleeved tee shirt was the same with the arms. The trousers were crunched up and creased. I must try to get Meridian to stop doing the washing for me… and paying them!

The tap tapping and noises that sounded like something metal-like being dropped kicked off. Still, he’s been quiet up till now.

Made an order for Iceland next week. Then got the nosh sorted. Oh, Boy, were those curried potato chips tasty! Yes, they were! Buttered mushroom pate sarnies, gherkins, red and orange tomatoes. A banana to follow and a worthy 8.3/10 for taste! Lovely!

I got settled to await the arrival of the evening carer, who was a smidge late, not that it mattered. I started to watch a Heartbeat episode, and every few minutes, I’d nod off for a couple of minutes, wake up, and off again. Most aggranoying, as I’d not seen this episode before. Tsk!

The evening carer arrived, medicated me, and asked if the laundry was ready to collect. I said that Valerie had done it this morning. A nibble and can of plonk were selected, and she took the waste bag with her.

Locked the door and got settled to watch the second episode of Heartbeat on the box. But, No! I kept nodding off again and shooting awake after a few minutes, only to drift off again and repeat the procedure?

Somehow I did manage to nod off, but it was hours later.

My much blotchy pot-marked face,
A sign of age, rotting and decays?
To be expected, I think nowadays…
Like wee-weeing in spurts and sprays.
Or losing memories that fade and stray…
Along with confusing, baffling thought waves…
Needing a kip each day, before midday…
Recalling when one was alive, in one’s heyday,
You’re looking towards the next pension day,
Coping with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley…
Deaf, cataracts, depression Monday to Sunday…

My excrescences, give me haute couture,
If that’s the word, I’m not really sure…
I wonder if the Tate would make a sculpture?
I’d like to be a giver, cheerer-upperer, enricher…
Or an MP, maybe even a frontbencher?
Perhaps best, if I stay as this demented old failure,
Although I’m sadly an incompetent botcher…
A harmless old fart who’s into pareidolia…
Awaiting St Peter’s greeting as he says, ‘Gotcha!’
Possibly, my brain may have caught paranoia?

Trying is the first step toward failure!

Inchies Diary Photographicalisations

INCHIES PHOTOGRAPHICALISATIONS

Approx’ 17:00hrs. After putting in the eye drops, I cleaned my spectacles and let them settle; I then sprayed the eyes with the cleanser refresher. Not that it made a lot of difference.

18:50hrs: Took a Sunsetting snap. The weather was warm with it. The wind getting up a smidge. I may have obtained these pictures from the kitchen window out of order. I do a lot of that nowadays!

Around 19:30hrs, I had to get up for a wee-wee. I do a lot of that nowadays as well. Hehe! I’m glad I did, though. I caught the last view of the sun, and I did it without any red spots showing in the frame.

This shot I must have taken earlier, or the next day mayhaps? Also, I’ve forgotten what it was and why I took it. Hope in beating the onset of Dementia, Doreen, is fading.

Obviously, even to me, this shot was taken from the balcony of the Chestnut Walk end car park. The red van man parked in his regular spot, on the chevrons, next to the no parking painted on the floor.

The next day’s picture of the Chestnut Walk ends car park. The white van at the back has been there for some weeks now, if not longer? Red van man still claiming his naughty parking space.

Ah, we are on yesterday now (Tuesday). I remember making one of the worst meals I’d ever done. I’d forgot that I’d put the chunks in the slow cooker, peas in the saucepan, and potatoes in the oven with all the kerfuffle. And pressed on with the blogging for another six hours or so. Tsk! When I realised, late on in the night, I did my best to rescue a meal out of them. The chunks and peas were terrible and untasty, having all the flavour cooked out of them. The potato skins were too hard to eat; a little of the flesh was edible, just about, with the  Worcester sauce I put on them. Flavour rating: 2.5/10!

(Tuesday): Not many, the SD card Reader reduced to load many others. Grumph! I got these on by going into CorelDraw and importing, then saving them, exporting them to the Inchcock file, and then loading them onto the media file. A frustrating, time-wasting effort. But we wouldn’t like to miss the Red-Van-Mans parking, would we?

I had another look from the balcony, and Red-Van-Mans van, looked like it hadn’t been moved.

So, I finished the blog many hours later than usual.

The evening sunset was late coming again. but I stayed awake to get a photographicalisation. Not that I could sleep anyway. Sweet Morpheus seems to be absent a lot this last few days.

The evening carer arrived, and she sorted the tablets for me. Washed some pots and took the waste bags with her when she departed. Thank her muchly. ♥

Yet again, Sweet Morpheus was cruel to me. I hope he’s kinder to HRH Lisa, at Crowell Manor, in Fort Thomas. 💕 I wonder if the Lesser-Red-Spotted Billum is still lesser-Red-Spotted? Let me know, Billum.

Then Colin Cramps gave me an attack in the legs and feet… he enjoyed his visit I think… I didn’t! Hehehe!

The Nottingham Lads’ True Tales of Woe

Inchcock Today: Tues 5th April 2022 – Introductory Ode!

Inchcock Today

Introductory Ode!

All Inchies’ plans, hopes, desires get obliterable,
All of the wishes and prayers fade; it’s unfixable…
In a crowd, he’s always the one that’s unnoticeable,
Thought-Storms, wild ideas become pestilential…
His handwriting is now virtually untranslatable,
Voices, alarms, so many to Inchie are unhearable,
Problems are increasing… not many are solvable,
Friendships, chinwags are all uncultivatable,
As seeing lip-reading with Cataracts is not doable…
Vascular Dementia Doreen has ruined the potential…
To do anything that is enjoyable or cherishable!

Inchie should get a medal for being so confusable…
He’s given up socialising, he’s no longer compatible,
Inchies depressions are no longer confineable,
Hell, they are not even logical or describable…
He tries to talk seriously, his views are uninfluential,
Inchies common sense is turning surreal,
His neurotransmitters are no longer connectable…
To the brain; so too falls and shakes he is liable…
But hopes of a cure are almost non-existent… Sniffle!

Yet he can have hopes, some of them substantial,
But why he bothers is just unanswerable…
Will he feel better when his eyes are done; its arguable,
Cataracts, Glaucoma Saccades, are treatable…
But will Inchy love long enough? Life’s a raffle…
For 25 years now, he’s been totally tea-total,
He never thought he’d persist and be capable,
See? Summat he got right is detectable!

On past City & QMC visits, he became reflectable,
Hoping those he awaits will not be fatal…
He’s waiting on dates of five procedures at the hospital,
Will soon come about and be arrangeable,
But he’s not too hopeful and not getting flappable…
He’s more worried about the logistics; will he be able…
Which can do him no good and be detrimental…
That’s another thing he needs, treatment dental!

He fears arranging things transportational…
A carer to stay with him, which’d be pleasurable,
After the 3 procedures, stay for 24hrs – is this possible?
What’s the procedure: is it cost credible?
I don’t know why I wrote this; it’s grammatically unpublishable?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Tues 5th April 2022

03:30hrs: The now, usual for the last four mornings anyway, jumping awake to the tormenting sounds of the Thought-Storms, driving me into instant confusion, began.

I reckon the storm lasted for about three minutes, then faded fast. No idea why, but happy about it!

Even getting out of the c1966 recliner and up to catch my balance was easy-peasy! Three-limps with Metal Mickey to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) and took another reluctant wee-wee. Without any PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling. Things looked hopeful to me for a better day in the offing? Until…

I soon learnt that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete had replaced the Thought-Storm as the primary ailment. Although, right Cartilage Cathy was assisting in making hobbling a smidge difficult. But I’m not complaining; this knee pain and wobbling leg were a pleasure to put up with compared to yesterday morning’s Dracula Depression. Yes, I was feeling much better already!

Emptied, cleaned and disinfected the bucket and had a wash of sorts. Then, returned the NWWB to its handily placed position. Just in case things change with the bladder, off to the kitchen.

The view from the kitchenette window was very similar to yesterday’s beautiful picture.

I took this photograph. Even if it looked like yesterday.

As I opened the window, the wind caught me out. I moved a little with the camera and knocked over the knife block! I managed to catch it without any harm or injury, and only one knife fell out of the block! I was trying not to get into a Smug-Mode, as history has taught me that doing that can prove almost fatal! At minimal a foretaster of something else going wrong, at least! I made up two waste bags and placed them near the door. Got the kettle on and made a brew of JS Extra Strong tea. And off to get the computer going.

I kept getting messages telling me to put a disc in the F: drive, which had been there all along. The SD card reader refused to react again. So I left the card in to see if it would later on. I occasionally responded by giving the SD card a soft jingle – but it made no difference. Hey-ho!

Carer Richard arrived. He soon got me sorted with the medications, alarm-alert battery checks and looked at the supply of drugs in the drawer. He had to shoot off. He gave me a bit of a natter, though, bless him. He didn’t look too good this morning. Hope he’s going to be alright.

After updating yesterday’s blog for a while, I made another brew. Glengettie this time, and I tried the new ‘Just Milk’ in it again.

I’ve no idea if anything in it is different to normal semi-skimmed milk; the writing is too tiny for Cataract Kathleen to make it out. But I have to say that it lets the flavour of the tea come through without masking it, better than any other milk I’ve tried. As I got back to updating the blog…

The need for the Porcelain Throne interrupted me. As I casually got up and grabbed Metal-Mickey, the urgency of the need snowballed, and it ended up with just making it in time, after a panic, rush and quick hobble! Hahaha!

Not exactly as smooth as silk, and it was accompanied by different pains areas this time, despite the evacuation being semi-soft. All over in about a minute! No bleeding, stinging or hurting from Harold’s Haemorrhoids either. As I was cleaning up after the event. I realised that it may well be my having a second vegetable meal in three days that made things uncomfortable and nearly caught me out? Back to chips and a pastie with tomatoes tonight!

Made another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. Oh, I am spoilt for choices with great tasting teas! My best four are, from the top: Glengettie, Thompsons Punjana, Co-op 99 and JS Extra Strong Brown Label. But there is little between them. All great!

Made a restart on the updating of yesterday’s blog. At long last, I got it done and posted it off to WordPress.

Sphygmomanometerisationing began. The Boots machine returned slightly better figures this morning. The SYS has gone down from 169, 161, 159 and now to 157. My blood pressure is going in the right direction! And the body temperature is so very nearly on target again, at 34.8°c. Good!

Back to the wet room, no waiting this time, first songs and I was off. Hehe! Bubbly is one word to describe the evacuation this time. Almost frothy? Not a lot, no bleeding and no pain!

I replied to some Emails… well, the one. Hehe! I did some Facebooking catch-up. Starting the WP Reader viewing and…

Mr Nice, from the flat above, launched into some clanging about.

I spent a long time trying to get this post started. The concentration did a runner, and so many mistakes were made and had to be found and corrected. I imagine I’ve missed some; there were that many! The top Ode cost me a few hours of disheartening faffling about.

It was well into the afternoon when I got up to here with the scripturising. I like that word; I expected Grammarly to tell me it was spelt wrong. Oh, sod it, it just told me belatedly!

Better get some nosh sorted out then.

Took a photo of the Chestnut Way end car park. Just to see how red-van-man had parked.

Even with the Cataracts, it caught my eye that the popularity of car colours on the front spaces. Grey, black and white seems to be in fashion here at the towers. Disabled ones, perhaps?

I got the nosh all sorted out. Fishcakes with mushy peas in them, imitation fish sticks, tomatoes and some reasonably decent chips. Dessert and milk roll bread. Rating: 7/10.

Fell asleep watching something or other on the TV. Two hours or so later, ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chirped from the door chime, and the evening carer arrived. An obviously experienced young chap, not seen him before. Good at the job, sorted the medications and came up with a solution to dropping the tablets and regurgitating without noticing. The Carer suggested taking them one at a time. Good idea, I’ll try that! Thanked him, and off he went.

As I checked around to make sure no taps or lights had been left on and all was safe – I saw the view from the kitchenette window. It was beautiful; I got the Canon and took this photo.

Then, a programme, well, two consecutive ones, were shown on the same channel. I fancied watching them both and got myself settled with a bottle of spring water, the wee-wee bucket nearby, feet up on the chair in readiness to enjoy them. I fell asleep at the first set of adverts and woke up two hours later to catch the finishing credits for the second documentary! Hey-Ho!

Inchcock Today: Cock-Ups Supreme! Sat 27th Mar 22

Due to the cock-ups – mishaps, Failing to change the clocks, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpa and two tumbles; This may be a little shorter, less detailed than I would have liked. On the other hand, I might stay up late and do better… I did! Sorry.

05:30hrs (Well, I thought it was at the time): I stirred back into a pretend-life after a terrible night of shooting awakes. Yes, I’d forgotten to retake the Hemp capsule last night!

However, I wasn’t in bad nick after working out the time (Wrongly at it happens then), rose up, caught my balance, grabbed Metal Mickey, and meandered slowly into the kitchenette to put the kettle on. Not easy for me nowadays, with foolishly choosing which one to use does not come easily for me. I decided not to make one yet and get the ablutionalisationing done instead. But needs meant a slight alteration of plans…

Well, it went pretty well! An excellent start to the days’ activities. There is no bleeding, not too much-forcing things to kick-off moving, and minimal pain. It was one of the easiest evacuations for a while. Just a little Dizzy Dennis visit as I was rising from the Throne. Fetched the togs and towel into the wet room and stripped ready for a stand-up wash, shave, teggies, etc. It was too early to use the shower yet, for fear of disturbing other tenants with the noise of the shower unit.

Oh, the ankles were looking a little weather-beaten on both legs. Well, they would be on the legs, I suppose… Hahaha! Fool! The colouring of the tootsies changed from undressing, showering and putting the socks on. (See photos on the left)

This morning, cleaning the teeth was not easy due to the broken tooth hurting when the brush touched around the molar area. I gave them a lighter cleaning. Still, it’s been worse. Then on to the danger zone, the shaving! I lathered up well, checked the blades were still sharp and started…

It may surprise you, it did me… not a single cut! Got the body scrubbing done without anything untoward occurring and then washed the delicate areas.

Bit of bad news here, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had been bleeding, so a painful experience had to be endured. This month, the Daktacort ointment had been swapped for a new one on the prescriptions. So, never having used this brand before, I gritted my teeth and agonisingly (Phimosis) made room for the ointment to be smoothed into the wound…

Grrreat! Despite things going so well! There was no stinging at all from the lotion, but it took much longer than usual for the bleeding to stop, so no Smug-Mode yet.

I had the usual struggle to get the socks on, but I was determined not to use Sock-Glide-Glenda! I thought, well, the Carer will be here shortly.

So, I went on the balcony and took a photo of the end car park, curious to see how the red van man had parked… Blimey, another red vehicle, had parked in red-van mans’ usual illegal parking space on the chevrons.

Red van man had parked legally and correctly… that’s the first time in four months I’ve seen this; I felt pretty honoured. Hehehe! I think the white vehicle at the far end has been there for a long time now?

Carer Chaymae arrived. We greeted each other, and she got the medications sorted and put them in my hand…

Oh, flippin’ ‘eck! The bottle dropped when Peripheral Pete gave me a shaking, straight down spraying water all over me, my socks and trousers onto the floor; Trying to catch the bottle,  I fell knocking over the waste bin and clunked Cathy Cartilages knee as I hit the deck! Carer Chaymae got me back on my feet and picked up the now almost empty from a full water bottle, Tsk! The gal departed with a treat in thanks from me.

On to the computer… and the first of up till now… three Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet failures!

Liberty-Global boss Mike Fries strikes again!

Faffling about getting nowhere with the Liberty-Global crap, net going down repeatedly, I somehow completed yesterday’s blog and sent it off.

I gave up and went to get a mug of Glengettie… What a pillock! I noticed the things on the side I’d put there to make Josie’s meal with… Worse, the watch told me it was 13:15hrs! I was ashamed at failing to get her meal to her on time for the first time ever! I went to her flat but could get no response to ringing the chimers… embarrassed, frustrated and self-loathing was brewing up.

It didn’t help to listen to the bang-bang-away Herbert while I was tensed up.

I called at Josies’ again, and she answered this time, what a revelation this was to me, Humph! I mumbled an apology, and I explained my idiocy in forgetting, and she was very calm about it and asked: “Did you forget to put your clock forwards?” This made me feel a bigger plonker than I already felt! I’d forgotten about the clock changing again this year, fell arse over tit, lost my reading glasses, the internet was crashing all the time, I could feel the blood coming from Little Inchies Lesion! I was not feeling too proud of myself at all!

Panicking, I hastened to get Josies’ meal prepped and served.

I did not want to spoil it by rushing too much, though, so it was about an hour before it was served up and ready for delivery.

I delivered it to her, she said, “It’s too much! You have me looking like Betty Bunter!” Bless her, she says that nearly every week. 💕

Now, I need to unwind… ah, an odd choice of words that. But it reminded me I had to change the three watches, put them forward an hour. Crap, lost another hour! Hehehe!

I took three photos from the kitchenette window of the rather beautiful looking clouds in the sky.

Then set about making a snack; I don’t feel like creating a proper meal. Summat friendly and easy will do me fine, now let’s look at what’s available… Haddock fish cakes, fishcake with pea topping, and the crispy chips will do me. Yes, the last of the chips and some fishcakes will do nicely. Especially as they all need the same time cooking.

Fish tea prepped and served. And I tucked into it with a relish, and I gobbled up the lot of it. Slowly, to get satisfaction from the delightful taste. Heap flavourful! A rating of 804/10, given.

The evening Carer called and got me sorted, just starting her shift, poor thing.

The darkness dawned as I was washing the pots, and I managed to get a shot of the sun setting, which only lasted for about three minutes? I was beginning to feel a little cheerier when…

While listening to the tap-tapping coming from above as I went to put the dishes into the wall cupboard, I had a first-ever for me, incident, event.

I know I was feeling tired, but I still cannot work out how I managed to do this…  – I put the stick down on my foot, not the floor? Automatically, as a reaction, I pulled the foot away, sent the stick (Not Metal Mickey, I was using Wooden Walter at the time), flying and giving myself a decent toe-stubbing at the same time on the cupboard corner beneath the sink. Which made me think…

Have I always been so unlucky? Yes, I think…
I recalled one-day playing solo tiddlywinks,
I got a splinter that turned septic in a blink!
Turned black and didn’t half pen and ink!

Double-pneumonia at three, blood in the pee…
Can’t remember it, but later Dad told me…
Got a part acting in the Chapel matinee,
I knocked over a candle, fire, folks did flee!
I didn’t go again; me and the Vicar did agree!

We went to Skegness, by the sea…
Go-Karting available, for the first time, you see…
Only one was tipped over… of course, by me!
Life even then was not trouble-free…
Ever since, I’ve Whoopsiedangleplopped consistently,

I’m proud to say, now in my decrepity…
Not many folks lived life so discordantly,
I’ve produced constant defeats and failures diligently…
I can expect daily doses of foul-ups, errors & calamity!
No signs of things getting better – disquietingly…

Keep Safe and, above all, Smiling!

Inchcock Today: Tuesday 15th February 2022: Farcicalisationing again!

Vascular-Dementia-Doreen Strikes Again!

Tuesday 15th February 2022

Another slightly better night, at least once I got off to sleep. Over the past couple of weeks now, I’d been jumping awake, nervously, anything from 5-minutes to half an hour after nodding off, but I’ve always been able, once I’ve fought off the Thought-Storms, that is; to get back into the land of nod swiftly again. Last night it was getting to sleep in the first place that was the problem. I even turned on the TV cause that usually helps me fall out of consciousness. But not last night, it was ‘orrible! Once did, the waking ups started, of course, but no more often than average. Hey-Ho! I’m losing faith in the Hemp capsules already.

So, it was later than usual when I did stir back into imitation life. Not that I noticed at the time, cause the need to utilise the Porcelain Throne was soon on me. Off to the wet room, and Gawd Blimey! Another wet but willing evacuation! I got things cleaned up… and the wet room was washed and changed into day clobber, teeth, eye drops, ear drops, Germolened Little Inchies final lesion, and Germoloided Harolds Haemorrhoids. It’s a job every morning and night this is! 

Made a brew of the J Sainsbury’s Extra Strong tea; this is not bad at all, but not up to the standards of Thompsons Punjana or Glengettie. Got on the computer to start updating yesterdays blog!

A flipping hard slog with the Shaking Shaun interference… I like that word, but why?

The intercom sounded and lit up. Hello, Sainsbury are good and early this morning! 

I gave the deliveryman two boxes and a carrier bag. He filled with the delivered items for me, and he put them through the door in the hallway for me. I slipped him a choice of drinkies in thanks, and off he trudged.

I’d not seemed to get much this time? Before sorting them out, I had a look on the web to see the order. A good few items are unavailable, and I’d ticked the no substitutes on them. Very risky letting Sainsbury’s make substitutes, I can tell yer! Still, some of luxury, spoil-the-old man foods had arrived, Hehehe!

How the fresh cream French Horns got requested is beyond my imagination… me? Buying fresh cream French Horns? Ahem! With whole cream milk? Lemon cream desserts, too? I also tried some JS own label Extra Strong Teabags. (Not bad at all!) The cheesy twist pastries looked good. I’ll have them later on tonight. Worra feast in store!

A few minutes after getting fodder stored away, ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chirped up from the doorbell, and in walked Carer Cassie. She’s brought with her the monthly prescriptions. While she was putting them away, I nattered away.

During which something came up in the one-way conversation. And as we went into the main room, I said I’d make a note to remind myself to phone the Doctor…

It then dawned on me… I could not find the Nokia! I always leave it to the computer’s right, as a rule. Where the charging cable can reach the phone from the socket?

Later, I felt an Ode coming on…

That if I could not find it this morning!
When Carer Cassandra came calling…
She set off, with me, both searching…
My hopes were not worth a farthing,
Of me discovering, finding…
My beloved mobile, a precious thing…
It was most irritating and frustrating…
Irking and embarrassing!
Cassie looked in every nook was persisting…
Every room searched, drawer-jostling…
Finding it? My hopes were now fading…
Vascular Dementia Doreen, it was very degrading,
We investigated under the chairs, it was so rilling,
Cassie carried on, with no getting ruffling…
Where can it be? Then I needed a wee-weeing…
Off to the wet room, not easy peeing and thinking…
Wondering where I’d put the danged thing!

I got back to the main room – & Cassie was smiling! ♥
With eyes that were brighter and twinkling…
She pointed out where she found the phone hiding…
Yes, Cassie found it, I gave her a kiss, but I was infringing,
But she gave me no whinging; I started singing!

We both began grinning and laughing!
I was so happy, I could have wet my underclothing!
It’s lovely to find a little joy in something…
Although later, I was scathing, scything, and seething…
At getting in such a mess… things I’m constantly losing,
I’m an expert on having things go vanishing!

With my telling her of my funny turn yesterday, I was unsure if cleaner Esther had called on me or not. Cassie pointed out that she could have moved the mobile; because the computer desk looked like it had been dusted. (which means it is usually dirty? Haha!)

Oh, I’ve not said have I, where the phone was found? It was moved a few inches from its usual position, but out of sight, underneath the keyboard! I feel a greater fool than ever now!

The blooming day was nearly gone by the time I started on this post! Getting the Monday blog finished after all the time spent searching for Nokia-Nigel, meant it cost me a total of over five hours before I got it finished and posted off. Adding the fact that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete had joined with Shaking Shaun in making things nigh on impossible to type without so many errors… I should have been angry, but no… I was grateful that Cassie helped me find the mobile to use…

Then a Mega Mess! Could I  remember who I was going to call in the first place? Could I ‘eck as! Now, this is just how life is going for me at the moment…

I had the oddest thoughts and confusions. I was still grateful for Cassie finding errant mobile for me, and at the same time, felt worthless and full of self-loathing for not being able to recall who I needed to call!

There are people like lovely Lisa and Sister Jane, who I want to converse with. But no time left again! The evening carer is nearly due! And I’ve not had anything to eat yet! Ah, well, no wonder I’m not sleeping well.

I did a little Facebooking answered some comments. Then had a look at the WordPress reader. I just made the WP comments; now I shall have to give up blogging and prepare some fodder prepared… I imagine I will not be back until the morning.

Really weary now, just about done in, and the fodder had to be prepared, cause sometimes even hunger can survive the onslaught of weariness. (Ah, a touch of cleverness there, I thought?)

Bean and cheese and beef pasties, naughty cheese curls, slow-cooker destroyed potatoes by doing them for eleven hours! Tsk! Roast chestnuts and, sadly, the last of the black tomatoes. However, I did make too much of a plateful, and I was running out of eating-steam and considering abandoning the by now gruelling task of shoving any more food into my gullet, and…

♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chimed out from the doorbell. I instantly morphed into a smiling, happy, hopeful and cheerful chap; the moment that I saw it was Carer Julie coming into the room!

I asked her if she had enjoyed her holiday, as the others told me she was on. But she had been poorly, not on holiday. After giving me the medications, we had a too long chinwag and laugh. I mentioned that I had not paid her yet for posting the package to Lisa and Bill for me. And forwarded the thanks of Billum for her help. Showed her some photo’s graphics I’d done of Lisa and Bill, and she showed interest. ♥

But she really had to go; I had delayed her a long enough. I insisted she tool some treats and nibbles if only to help cover the cost of her doing the mailing for me. The last two little Natoora tomatoes from the fridge were taken. I do hope she and her partner enjoy them. ♥ Said my sad farewells to Carer Julie.

Washed, got down in the awesomely uncomfortable recliner, and prepared for the arrival of Sweet Morpheus

A mention of Sweet Morpheus, or sleep…
Sometimes he won’t let me get a peep…
This makes me tired, and I want to weep,
I’ve tried, it doesn’t work, counting sheep,
Nightly the wakings up rerepeat,
Insomnolence, can it be beaten?

Tonight, I gorrof to sleep really quickly…
Woke; pains from Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley,
I thought I’d been a kip for hours… ghastly…
I’d slept for ten minutes at most, eerie?
God of Sleep & Dreams, ignoring my sleep-deficiency?
Nodding back, and again started dreaming…
About ‘Man from Uncle’ Mr Waverley?

My shooting awakes, giving me hypertension…
Spent a while, in fretting and procrastination,
Back in the land of nod, minutes later, depression!
This time shaking from failed neurotransmissions,
Like a shot, back and deeply sleeping…
Why and how is beyond my comprehension…
Seems I’ve got a staying-asleep suppression?

Is it possible to get a sleep transfusion?
Will Sweet Morpheus be open to persuasion?
Can I bribe him or offer complete adulation?
Every time I nod off, I awake in absquatulation…
Can one invent a sleep button? Press for activation?
Or will I continue suffering mental altercation?

The Pure Hemp is bringing no sleep satisfaction…
I can see no improvement in my nocturnal hibernation,
I suppose I’ll be left with new mental disorientation,
I crave rest at times; there’s no commiseration,
I’d see the Doctor, but that’s another complication,
Hearing on the phone, she bounces back my email communication,

I see no way to make things better, somnambulatorily,
Fact is, today, I feel pretty poorly…
Awaiting the next Whoopsie…
Willing life to be hassle-free…
Asking profound questions of me…
Getting self-answers, of fiddledeedee!

Sad, innit?

Inchcock Today: Monday 14th February 2022: Confusionableitis!

Inchcock Today

Monday 14th February 2022

Jolly Good Morning!

I stirred back into pretend-life around 02:00hrs with a jump that left me in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered, grotty, tatty recliner, as the Thought-Storms started. I’d had a few earlier bursting awake episodes, but I got back to sleep pretty quickly. This time, Thought-Storms made sure I gave up on any idea of going back to sleep… Humph!

After fretting about the eye-sight problems, then working out what day it was, an unexpected surge of interest in cleaning up overcame me. It didn’t last long, of course! I made up three bags of waste, refilled the washing fluid bottle, cleaned the kitchenette sink and considered the possibility of my mopping the floor! But I was saved from housework impulse by the sudden need to use the Porcelain Throne. 

Had I been asleep in the recliner, I would never have made it in time! Boris Bowels was in complete charge of the evacuation and timing. So, it might have been a good thing I did get up so soon? All over in seconds until the second wave of sloppy stuff followed on… Stinking, messy and a hell of a job cleaning up the wet room furniture and me, again! I cleaned the floor in the wet room a little… Oh, I am a good boy sometimes. Haha!,

I washed and made for the medical drawer and the Galpharm capsules, taking two of them! Well, things were very watery and gooey, so I thought it would be safe to take two. I just hope it isn’t going to be house-bricks on the next visit to the Throne… Please!

I got the kettle on for a brew, and looked out of the window, taking this sadly very poor, in fact terrible, effort at photographicalisationing.

Then, as I closed the window, I trapped my finger, no bother at all. I possibly may have uttered or mumbled something like, “Oh, flipping ‘eck!” or similar.

The body temperature was taken on the digital machine. All the 3’s showed up. I got a bit of a shock when I checked online with the NHS site… This is the result of my checking to see what 33.3°c indicated… I am not confident enough to call anyone. It may well be that the machine is not giving correct results? I do not feel poorly and have been below 35°c for the last seven days or more now? Ah, well, on to the sphygmomanometerisationing…

Another not so good one. Yet it’s only s little higher than it has been and far lower than many results this month? I don’t usually fret over these things, but I hope the haematology nurse comes to do the Warfarin blood test tomorrow, and I can have a word with her about things.

On to the computer, and the photo reader was playing up again. Then… Well, fancy that, it hasn’t let me down since yesterday, and Frid, Thursday, Wednesday… Grrr!

Turned everything and booted up again, still no signal. Humphers! Ten minutes or so and came back on at a crawling speed. But, I pressed on.

I spent a couple of hours finishing off yesterdays blog and posting, and Carer Richard arrived. Which caught me by surprise, as I thought he was on holiday this week? Although I was glad to see him, he was not too pleased to be here! I asked if he had been called in and got an incoherent muffled answer in reply, which told me not to push the issue. I’ve no idea what had gone on. But the lad was in a dour mood for him. I soon cheered him up with some treats and a joke or two. He slowly, nearly got to being back to his usual self. Hehehe! He took the three waste bags out with him, bless him.

I made a brew and back onto the computer… but…

You stand-need to get more involved with Three and Vodaphone, as you are doing when you can’t even supply even a half-decent internet service, Mr Fries? I suppose it’s all number-juggling, money on paper? You’re good at that, mist and mirrors with the profit, but crap in running an internet provider service. Just thought I’d let you know. I am one of the suckers using Virgin Media now that Liberty-Global has bought the company.

Got the service back on eventually. Went on WordPress Reader, then the Comment replying. The photo thingy started to work, so I got the pictures on post-haste.

Here’re the earlier shots taken from the kitchenette window. To all intents and purposes, the skyline looked as if it was a sunset, with the white stripe across it. Different if nothing else.

Things took a sudden turn for the worse around 10:00hrs. I was making another brew of Glengettie, dropped the teabag, lent on the stick and got down to retrieve it… Oh, dearie me! I sharp pain in the groin, just like the one in 1988, when I got a hernia! Ever since, it has been twanging at me whatever I’ve been doing, hobbling, sitting down,  looking out of the window… but especially when I bend or stretch for something.

I took an extra Codeine straight away. And I am prepared to take another if things don’t calm down in the nether regions. Grogglefrogs!

I decided to get the nosh done early, as I had a feeling things were going to get worse, as Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun had joined in with Hernia Henry, giving me bother.

No cooking involved to be on the safe side… well, no, that’s not strictly true. I did some baked stone rolls in the oven for ten minutes. Then got them buttered, and sliced the last of the large Natoora black tomatoes, to have in the cobs. Chicken thighs and a banana to round off the meal. With not feeling up to much, I couldn’t eat anywhere near all of it, but I did gobble all the black tomatoes.

Got the pots washed, and I drifted off into a fitful, tossing and turning, waking every five minutes for an hour or so. When I woke and decided to get myself ready for the ablutionalisationing to be done, I thought I’d dreamt of cleaner Esther, she was raising her voice at me… again, but I couldn’t recall why.

Ablutioning Farces

  • I went to get the fresh jammies to put on after the session, but could I find them? No! So I got the ones I’d put in the laundry basket and sprayed them with freshener.
  • Went into the wet room and realised I’d put the fresh jammies in there ready. I feel such a fool!
  • Cleaning the teeth and another filling that the dentist but it fell out! They ought to be butchers, not Dentists!
  • Shaving, two almost symmetrical cuts, both tiny, one under each earhole. Work of art that was!
  • Showering; as I was bending down to wash the ankle ulcer, Dizzy Dennis had me over – even for me, and I was there, this was amazing… I clouted my head in the exact same spot against the same power box as I did two days ago! It didn’t bleed much, stopped on its own.
  • Drying off, I partly cleared the contents of the floor cabinet in one swoop. Now I was pee’d-off with myself!

On the plus side, there was no toe-stubbing, and the medicationings went much more straightforward than expected.

The legs looked to be in fine fettle; even Arthur Itis was in a good mood with me; bless his cotton socks! Talking of socks, I put some on… NOT using SGG (Sock-Glide-Glenda) Cost me a lot of pain, but surely less than using the dreaded metal monstrosity, Glenda!

The feet looked even better than the legs did. Well, apart from the feeling of worms under the skin on the old Ankle Ulcer area. Within a few hours of this itching starting, the pain usually follows. Hey-Ho!

Off into the kitchen to get the kettle on…

I was pulled up in tracks – The window was ajar? The server trolley was well out of its usual position, over near the fridge? And the bowl I’d left clothes soaking in was empty, no sign of the cloths anywhere… Had I lost it altogether here?

I stood musing for a second and let my grip on the walking stick relax while trying to engage with my brain and memory. I got the picker-upperer to get the stick back (Hernia Henry was still giving me jip). The head natural went down, and I noticed something even more puzzling! The oven door had been cleaned! What? Who? How? There is no way I could have handled that job the may the stomach is?

My thoughts began to blend into a possible reason for the oven door. Maybe I had not dreamt of Esther? Perhaps she actually came to the flat… that would explain the moved items and cleaned oven? My mind was half and half on the matter!

A-side brain: Thought, I know I’m getting senile, but indeed I’d have known if Esther had called, she scares the life out of me with her commands and demands… I must have been aware…
B-side brain: It’s obvious she has been…
A-side brain: But she left no note or message…
B-side brain: She wasn’t to know you’d have a funny turn, was she?
A-side brain: Who said I had a funny turn?
B-side brain: Well, let’s face it, you nodded of at a time you’ve never nodded off, dint yer?
A-side brain: Well, yea… suppose so.
B-side brain: You can’t rest now, can you? You’ve got to know…
A-side brain: I could give her a call… I’d look and sound like a pratt, though!
B-side brain: So what’s changed?
A-side brain: Bugger it, you’re right, I’ll ring her now…

Embarrassing as it was, I did call her and asked if she’d been to the flat. “Yes, you were not well, and I could not wake you up!” So I let you sleep, but you were shaking your right leg and shoulder all the time?

I didn’t bother explaining to her again about Peripheral Neuropathy, Pete; I just said it doesn’t hurt. (Of course, when it gets more active, it has been known to have me off of the recliner with a thud. But that’s another tale).

It was a kind of pleasant feeling to know that I wasn’t going proper crazy, anyway.

The door chime rang out. I feared it might be Esther, cause she was in another flat when I rang her! But it was Josie returning her Sunday lunch tray and dish. It cheered me up when she said how much she’d enjoyed it this week! Smug-Moded!

That reminds me, the lady who I took the Strawberries to, her name, which escaped me yesterday, is Frances! I think I may have a photo of the gal; I’ll have a look. That’s Francis on the left, with Penny in Woodthorpe Court lobby when it was being done up a few years ago.

I took a photographicalisation of Sherwood from the kitchenette window. The rain was falling at the time.

Then I made a bottle of orange juice.

The rain suddenly stopped, and darkness fell rapidly. I bet there will be some beautiful sunset views to take later in, give in about an hour and a half, and I’ll be back at the window David Baileying.

Oh, I’ve done Facebooking for yesterday yet. Tsk! Treated me to a mini-lemon meringue pie and got back to the blogging work…

I was feeling a little dodgy, weak, confused again. It could just be the bang on the head, I suppose.

Hahaha! I’m used to them, though. But there may be a limit…

Bad news on the weather front warning.

The Meteorological Office has issued a ‘Danger To Life’ warning for Wednesday & Thursday this week. With a possibility of snow gales in the North. They tell us that the last storm took three lives, and this one will be worse.

Six of the best kitchen window shots of the Sunset tonight

Bootiful”

The door-chime didn’t chime to wake me tonight. It was young Carer Kiya who came into the room, who came in to give me shock again as she woke me up. Such a pretty young thing stirring me back into imitation life was pleasant enough. It could be embarrassing if I am using the wee-wee bucket or making mad rampaging love to a female when she comes in unannounced. But I had to ask her to use the chime in future, then walk straight in.” Although the chances of the second scenario are nil!” With a broad smile on my face so as it would not sound as if I was ticking her off. She missed the funny side of it. But said she would use the chime in future. Bless her!

She sorted the medications out and watched me as I took them. I took one of the Hemp capsules separately. It went down okay this time.

Gave her her choice of nibbles, a Cadbury’s mini Easter egg, and a can of Fanta orange. Kiya pointed out that she is only seventeen, so no alcoholic drink was chosen. I thanked her, and she took the waste bags to the chute for me on her way out.

No messing then, I got down into the recliner in search of intended Sweet Morpheus, this time. But it took a couple of hours or so before I could nod off properly. Thought Storms that at times felt like dreams, but they couldn’t have been, I didn’t nod of for hours. All a part from the feeling rough and sleeping for a while this afternoon?

In desperation, I even put the TV on, thinking that the first set of adverts would send me off to meet Sweet Morpheus. Ha! They didn’t. However, it just boosted the rate of the Thought Storms. Humph!

Ode To The Day

This was a very different, confusing sort of Monday,
At times, I cried, laughed, self-hated, tried to pray,
One moment things were going along appealingly…
But ended up badly, going so appallingly!
All-day long, everything I did, was absentmindedly…

Momentarily, seemingly, things went merrily…
Often, sourly, frustratingly, alarmingly and acridly,
The tumble in the shower… was almost expectedly?
Thought-Storms raged, some viciously, others banally?
Fears and worries increased, most of them baselessly!

Vascular Dementia Doreen, ever more harrowingly slyly…
She allowed bits of memory and information today…
To be accessed, but all the part recollection ambiguously,
I didn’t need telling; I was going off my trolley…
What bits of logicality I had turned into banality!

Sadly, the above appraisal is close to reality…
Life is apathetic, virtually accidental, and agonistically…
Missing opportunities for joy, affectionately…
My mind wanders, as do bodily things, medically…
I await many appointments, clinicopathologically,
Mayhaps one day, I can report one going blithefully?

The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing

Inchies Friday Diary: Festivities, gaiety and other fibs! Hehe!

Fort Thomas News Exclusive!

After several years of collecting scientifically challenging reference books, Professor Billum and his partner HRH Lisa, who are now stuck indoors due to the snow, are tackling the job of reducing the number of books in his basement library. He hopes to make room to expand his laboratory and thus, make more room for his medical experiments. Inchcock (rear) said; the task is phenomenal.

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Inchies Friday Diary
Jollities, Festivities, Gaiety and other fibs!

I fang you! A decent kip for once; I reckon I only jumped awake about six times overnight. Not good, of course, but better than the preceding three evenings efforts.

By the time I’d clambered tottering dangerously out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, haemorrhoid-testing, rickety recliner and caught my balance, I realised how evil the eyes were this morning. So, first job the drops, let them settle, then put some of the sprays on them. After this, they were no worse, and maybe I imagined it but seemed a little better than when I woke.

The ablutionalisationing was tackled first, even before thinking of making a brew of Glengettie tea (Worrying that?). It might be the fact that each time I woke up during the night, spongy emissions of wind were evacuating out of the rear end, and Reflux Valve Roger was sticking a bit, then bursting forth, painfully for a minute or two? But, I felt a little stinky, I thought – mayhaps the rear end emissions were going on while I was asleep?

I got inside the wet room, and the mind meandered off on its own. I got the shower going! Boing! I totally forgot what the time was, and after getting the teeth done and shaving with only two tiny minor nicks, thus assuming a Smug-Mode… I still didn’t recognise what I’d done at that time, and I merrily whistled (Which is getting harder each time I lose another tooth) and sang gayly to myself as I started doing the medicationalisationings.

MedPhorpainWhich soon put an end to the Smug-Moding, whistling and singing! As usual, I got the potentially most painful job of cleaning and creaming Little Inchies fungal lesion out of the way first. Agony! There are no pain or problems with the Saccades eye drops, Harold’s Haemorrhoids cleaning and creaming, ears oiling, or Arthur Itis Phorpain gelling.

As I was about to increase my level of smugness, it dawned on what time it was… and I’d just used the noisy shower – Guilt overerflowethed!

A Carer arrived, name? Erm… Gorrit, Cassie! She was to take the laundry for me on Fridays, starting today. I had got the bag and capsules softener all ready for her. She did the medicationings, and I treated her to some nibbles and a drink, and off she went.

Onto the computer to finalise yesterdays blog and post it. A message came in on the mobile, it was from Iceland Foods… Ah, I hear you now asking – Why did the pillock have another order from Iceland? The silly old goat had one yesterday?

Ahem! Well, that would be due to my Wednesday and Thursday’s Whoopsiedangleplopping. I made some cheesy potatoes for Richard and got his visiting day wrong. So, I gave them to Valerie, who came. Then Thursday, when Richard was calling, I made another dollop of cheesy potatoes for Richard again – then, I had no potatoes left. Hahaha! So I made a minimum order for today to get some more spuds for myself to have. That’s about right, I think.

The rain started to fall, but not too heavily. Then began to get a little threateningly darker out there.

I took this picture from inside the balcony, too wet to open a window.

Shortly, the Intercom rangeth. The Iceland delivery had arrived. I pressed him in, and I hoped it would not be the same driver as yesterday, or he might think me a bit of an idiot having a dirty-great big order, then another on the following day. He’d be right if he did, by the way!

He carried the bag of spuds separately, only two carrier bags, and he took them into the kitchen for me. Haha! I wish the bloke yesterday had taken the eight bags into the kitchenette for me.

I thanked him and let him choose which can of plonk he fancied, and off he trotted with a cheery farewell.

I’m glad I remembered to get the drain-unblocker. Not a lot to sort out this time. I got some cheapo Beef Jerky to go with the freebies to make the minimum order. Oh, and some Cadbury mini rolls.

Sister Jane rang, or did I ring her? One or the other. Dementia Doreen again. Total blank on what we spoke of… indeed am I thinking of yesterday? Sad, innit?

I then rang Obergruppenfürheress, Warden and Ballet Dancer, Deana. Not seen her for a while. The gal was at home. She’d tested positive for SARS-CoV-2 and had been isolating. She hopes to be back on Monday. I said I was ringing to let you know you hadn’t collected your treat bag this week – now I knew why! Said they would keep until Monday. Haha! Nobody tells us owt, do they?

And an hour or so later, the door chime rang out its’ ♫Oh, Susana♫ chime, and in walked Carer Valerie. She had collected my washing for me, and she’d brought it up to me. Bless her cotton socks! She said she’s made sure they were dry enough for me.

So, I got off of the blogging and sorted out the clothes. By gum, that bag holds a lot of stuff. Hehe!

I got in a pickle, found the coat hangers, put some on the door, and spent a good while faffing about. Then realised I was not doing this in a planned, smooth way… Hahaha! 

I meant to put all the rousers together on a rack and jumpers shirts on the other.

Which seemed like a logical thing to do.

However, Dementia Doreen had other ideas for me. I ended up with a mixture of trews and jammies on one rack and trews, jumpers and shirts on the other. Ah, well, at least I got them hung so the creases can fall out a bit.

The toploftical, unforthcoming, ascetic, eremitic, aloof, sniffy attituded Herbert had been giving me some tapping on and off for an hour or so. Now, he’s just gone into Turbo-Tapping and Banging mode! What a Git! Mind you, let’s not forget my Whoopsiedangleplop with using the shower early in the day? The difference, I think, is snot-bag superior Herbert enjoys doing it on purpose?

I made a rare mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. As the rain stopped and the sun fought its way through to shine on Inchcock Towers… well, Woodthorpe Court then. Hehehe! I grabbed the Canon camera and took this photograph of the view.

Then the hungers-pangs began, and my desire for some more cheesy baked potatoes overcame me. I got up some steam (I was starting to feel a bit weary) and started to prepare the third on the trot (4th Counting Carers Richards and Valerie’s) Cheesy Baked Potatoes meal!

Cheesy Potato Nosh – Flavour Rating 9.3/10!

Note: Only the four half spuds? No, not self-control; I made eight and kept three to cool and have later on (Cunning?). I would have had four, but I dropped one when putting it from oven to pot – it splattered onto the floor and a slipper, which both needed attention, cleaning sorting out. I may have muttered something along the lines of “Oh, bother?” Then, I feasted on the meal, put the tray on the Ottoman, passed wind and belched… and Flake-Out-Time!

Herbert started clanking and clunking away again, and I woke to his mechanical overture. Hehe! Pig!

Luckily it didn’t last too long this time. And I drifted off again. To be woken by the tune of “♫ Oh, Susana… ♫ chiming out. The evening Carer had arrived. She was in a rush, so no chinwagging was permitted on this occasion. Off she trotted, bless her.

I spotted the meal things on the Ottoman, and I took them to be washed and put away. Noticing the lack of wonderful sun-setting after three days of gorgeous one, I stood and had a perusing of the evening sky. I realised that even with the absence of the usually vivid colours for the last few days anyway, there was still a beauty to be beheld.

Getting daft or soft on my old age, or not?

I went onto the computer to work on the blog and visited Facebook, the TFZ and Winwood Heights sites.

Went on CorelDrawing; Herbert was doing the odd banging about, so it was not until gone midnight before I got my head down; off I went and slept a bit better, only about five shooting awakes.

ODE OF THE DAY

Wants (Peace) & Not Wants (Herbert)

Cataract operation, before it’s too late – appealing!
A friend with time for long chinwagging,
Someone who doesn’t hate or finds me appalling…
But I don’t blame them, and that’s a bit galling!
One tablet to stop my shaking and trembling…
The ability to once more try cartwheeling?
The willpower for me to stop earwigging,
A better than Warfarin pill, stop the haemorrhaging,
But most of all, I’d want, after some deep thinking…
The end of people, domineering,
And those who go around sneering,
Those who cannot care have empathy are non-obliging…
The know-alls who go around rubbishing…
Rushing, superior in outlook, verbally scathing…

Compassionless animals, one lives above me,
Above my little independent living flat, you see…
I nicknamed him Herbert, and he’s not trouble-free…
He makes noise at all hours, sometimes the whole day,
He’ll start again today, I guarantee…
He acts superior, and nonchalantly,
But, the things he’s roisterously making go to charity…
The housing officer says no cause to moan, apparently,
So I won’t, or might lose the flat, alackaday!
So untouchable Herbert will carry on noisily…
He’ll keep waking me at night, arbitrarily,
I must resist responding early morningly…
What can be done redeemingly?
Two wrongs don’t make a right, seemingly…

KEEP SAFE IN THE SNOW
Keep safe all of you, affected by the snowstorms please,
If you can, avoid driving and soirees,
Polish your ottomans and tallboys?
And for even more joys…
Try canned beans and saveloys?
Sew the missing button on your corduroys?
Have warming wine delivered by Pomeroys?
Play great music, possibly by the Beachboys?
But don’t contact the killjoys!

Food Glorious Food!

♫ Food Glorious Food… ♫

But no hot chocolate or custard!

I beginneth the Ode, with the tale from Tuesday,
With food being delivered from Iceland, I say,
Sainsbury’s, I wanted to use, as I would, ordinarily,
Could I get access to their site? No flipping way!
Hence, my disappointment today, Wednesday…
Sorting the food delivered left me in dismay!

I opened the first bags onto the server trolley tray,
Bananas looked nice and green, should last many a day,
But the potatoes had growths on them and use by this Thursday!
No faults with the orange juice, pasties Cornish and Cheesy,
The lamb shanks I’d not had for a long time (budgetary),
I’ll have a lamb shanks in gravy tonight, to myself I did say…,

The next load I put out on display…
The dates left this septuagenarian giddy!
No dates on either pack of tomatoes, hey!
Both lots were soft and beginning to decay!
Two loaves of bread, both expired today!
Sugar snap peas, they were safe until Friday!
The mushrooms one day left, Wednesday, today!
The other stuff’s dates seemed to be okay!

The last few bits seemed better by to review,
But the brown cob packs should have been two!
But they only sent one, which was dearer – Boo!
Fairy liquid was on offer, just £1… that’ll do!
Oh, and the sweet chilly Thai sauce was £1 too!

Then the old warped memory came into play…
I didn’t want or need the chilli sauce anyway!
Memory-Lapse – another waste of effort, and monetarily,
For I’d got a massive jar last week,
Pissed off with myself, so’s to speak.

My Biggest Gastronomic Disappointment Ever!

Sob, Blubber!

I got around to cooking the lamb shanks at last

I got around to cooking the lamb shanks at last,
Such a long time since I’ve had such a repast…
I could hear my taste buds as they clacked…
Remembering the glorious taste, from the past…
Assured the delightful flavour would be a blast!

My hopes were high; I intended to eat it all…
But my cheeriness had a great fall…
It was horrible! I didn’t like it at all!
Sweet and sickly, for lamb, not natural,
Disappointing and incredible!
The sweetness made it inedible,

Why did I trust Iceland? Incomprehensible!
For Iceland, it’s only typical…
Nowt to fret over, nothing unusual…
I’d buy them out and sack them all…
If I had the wherewithal…

Depressed! I pottered about in the cupboards

Stuff in the end cupboard, to be eaten…
Most unwanted substitutes from the heathen…
Wicked Iceland and Morrison’s: They are Rotten!
Unwanted crap I don’t like sent, all too often!

No shortages of seasonings, though…
Parsley, Chilli, BBQ, Pickles and Oxo,
Lea & Perrin sauce, Balsamic, Marmite,
The innards are rumbling… problems gastro?

Oh, dearie me!
To the Porcelain Throne, I had to go,
Shit! I’ve just stubbed me hammertoe!
I’m just not a lucky bunny, you know!
What was I odeing about a while ago?

The cupboards… vinegar, soups, beans, red, gungo,
Mulligatawny, black and white pepper, Go-Glow…
Go-Glow? Why is that in there? A mystery, though?
With flavourings galore! Core, my toe’s getting sore…
No meat hereabouts… A lamb shank for sure…
A packet of out-of-date marshmallows…

Ah, I’ve got the bean and cheese pasty in the fridge!
I checked the sell-by-date and found a dead midge?
I’m struggling here, just a smidge…
With this Odeing verbiage…
Hell, summat else out of date, a box of porridge!

The Door Chime, Chimed!

It was the Amazon delivery;

On the orders of cleaner Esther, I’d ordered an ironing board…
But another Whoopsiedangleplop had matured!
These and Accifauxpas for me, are assured,
There’s no way stopping them from coming; it can’t be cured!
Their perpetuity can be assured…
I think that can be said officially; rest assured…
Another cock-up, mistake or Accifauxpas will be sculptured!
They just can’t leave me alone; it’s such a bind!.

Thoughts At The Time

Is the ironing board a self-assembly one, then?
The box wasn’t heavy, it’s too tiny, indeed… Freakier!
Got inside and found they had sent; no snigger!
An ironing board cover? Another Inchy blunder?

Now I can see where and how and feel in despair!
Is that not a picture of an ironing board above there?
My lousy eyesight causing problems there…
I’m fed up and don’t think life is fair!

Inchcock’s Making The Best Of Things Series – In Ode

Photo’s From Tuesday – with Comments

Starting with the morning views from the kitchenette:

Morning Views

Oh, how lucky I am to have such a fantastic view!
Taken from the mini-kitchenette window,
The lights were brighter than they show here, though,
Can’t keep my hands steady enough, which makes me feel blue,
Cause of the ailments I recently did accrue,
Neuropathy, the stroke, Shaking Shaun, to name a few,
But I have done my bestest, and that is true…
Determined they would be good enough to show you…
But there you, I’ll just continue…!

Bottles For Sister Jane and Pete

Amongst them, a newly discovered brew,
Highly rated by some of the Caring crew,
Easy opening, no need for a corkscrew,
Reported back to me as, as being taboo,
It is tangy and sweeter than honeydew!

19-hr slow-cooked potatoes!

I noticed them when I but my finger,
on the hotpots side, made me whinger!
I turned it off, I didn’t malinger…
I bit a spud; it was so much tastier,
And planned a meal hastier… (well, it’s all I find to rhyme!)

My Planned Recipe!

Microwave poached Eggs Included

My hunger was not controllable,
I needed something digestible…
And made this meal, it  was more than passable,
It came out absolutely delectable!.

What a feast yet again, most desirable!
I was in my eyeholes; it smelt indescribable…
Then rangeth out the doorbell… Oh, Hell!

Twas the Amazon Delivery

And the gits left all the parcels down in the lobby again! Boy did I have problems getting them up to the flat? Yes! The scumball had left about a dozen other packages on the floor and table, for other flats, too! Not too bad for them, there was only one small box or packet for each, Mugwumph here had a few more to collect.

One hell of a job, but somehow or other I managed to get them on the walker-trolley in one go – a bit dangerous, but still. The photo was taken as I got them inside the flat door.

I knocked over the carpet cleaner freshener and burst open as I struggled to carry the goods through to the kitchenette.

Did I swear, you ask? Oh, yea!

Sorry, had an Accifauxpas, I’ll have to stop.

Isn’t life a git! Innit?