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Cutting up potatoes, I found a wriggler…
A maggot, but used wriggler; it sounded funnier,
Just two cuts, to the same finger…
Using on each a waterproof plaster,
While the sauce got burnt to a cinder,
To give the potatoes a bit more flavour,
I added tandoori, lemon & coriander,
And the recommended garam masala,
Stood-up, how I didn’t fall’s a puzzler…
I went into a dissociative seizure,
Compared to the norm, this was longer,
Spuds were rock hard, my language vulgar,
Got potato waffles from the refrigerator,
I picked up long picker-upper, Peter,
To retrieve the spoon dropped earlier,
Knocking over a bottle of malted vinegar,
After mopping it up, the floor was cleaner,
Finally, I was ready to serve up dinner,
My waffles, burnt and withered,
Everything on the tray was assembled,
Carefully, into the front I hobbled…
My ingrowing toenail was stubbed!
Spilt food, carpet to be scrubbed,
Meal binned, pots washed…
So, my food plans were altered,
To bags of crisps, ready-salted…
Salt & vinegar, and barbequed,
New Year views to be photo’d,
Things didn’t go as anticipated!
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Afternoon Delight.
A little later…
Sunset, Gorgeous!
Zoomed in a bit…
And another…
Then right out.
The third attempt produced this
edible meal. At last! Hehe!
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TTFNski!
Sweet Dreams!
my slippers and the waste basket, in a semicrumpled painful heap!
the bruised arm, and I went into a clearly identified seizure, which I think lasted for five minutes or so. I needed a little longer doing nothing, which I did. 
.
check the kitchen for running taps, open doors, or left-on stoves. They were all as they should be.
lanet. They are not as good as yesterday’s, which were not as good as the day before.
Well, these went well overall! There were just two nicks shaving. The bowl of water I used to stand in to clean the feet was not tipped over. There were no tumbles in the wet room. And I seemed to get them done quickly—but did I? I was not rushing. The medicalisationing was not so successful. 
Because I could not reach my back to put the ointment on the bruises, Acne or eczema on my back. I’ll ask the carer, to 
help when he comes. As usual, the worst medicating bit was applying and rubbing in the stinging ointment 
. Not that it bothered me, of course. Ahem! 
and 
.
Duties.
I made myself my first mug of Glengettie tea since last Thursday. I’ve never gone three days without a brew of tea since I’ve been here!
Keeps visiting for shorter periods but more often today, uo to now anyway. 
,
were regular, and the 
were more active than ever
I took this shot through the balcony doors. 
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I’m handwashing again. I laundered two Kaghoules and some socks, hung them in the wet room, and turned on the heater. 
The teeth & gums bled. 
Medications went okay, well all apart from the fingal lesion, but I soon stopped the flow.
The fridage has never been fuller. This is due to my expert skills and ability to carry out, repeatedly; 
after 
. By way of doing food orders that I can’t even remember doing. Usually, I end up throwing food I can’t afford to away weekly. 
Sure enough, I wandered off and decided to open a can of water chestnuts, slice them up, and add them to three jars: one of pickled mushrooms, one of sweet and sour sauce, and one of black bean sauce.
affair. 
.
. I cannot believe today’s rate of mistakes, Whoopsies, Accifauxpa, cock-ups and sheer bad luck!
It’s not easy mopping and hoovering with the stick, mop, bucket, and hoover, especially in my current state: back angina, Glaucoma Gladys fading, and fogging my eyesight. Which is typical for this time of day. Usually starts to fade around 17:00hrs
I got the photo to go on late Monday morning.
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First one.
My beloved tree copse.
Cavendish Vale
CorelDraw problems again.
This might be out of sync timewise?
Green skies, as well.
After the last two nights of sleeping in bed, the nocturnal seizure stopped any silly thoughts of sleeping. So, after burning my lamburgers, don’t think that this pissed me off and got me all angry and annoyed with myself. I wet back to using the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner, in hopes of nodding off.
and 
kicked off.
, or either of the Cartilages. 
!
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and myoclonic
05:00hrs; I woke in an almost usual manner. 
was noticeable by his absence, a cough and a sneeze, and I rose to get the 
catheter night bag freed from the day bag. The colour was the best for months. I was in a decent mood. No seizures or depression; Anne Gyna was good to me, just a few 
and one twinge from Duodenal Donald. I was already making plans as I hobbled into the kitchen to 
get the kettle on and took this snap from the window to the right of the offer view. An unidentifiable glow of light in the centre?
As I was making up the waste bag (An old photo used because later the computer or WP would not let me put the one taken on here. Spit!) I decided to get the 
The need for the 
Throne. Trotsky Terence was in complete control. It was messy, very messy, and pongy, too! Again, it was all over in seconds rather than minutes. Cleaning things up took much longer. The shaving went well, not a single cut or knick!
was a success, too! No wonder I was merrily singing. No tumbles or walking into anything; nothing was dropped or broken. 
! Well, I did knock over 
, but let’s not nit-pick while I was in such a reasonable frame of mind.
. With my luck, DDDD was also making shorter forays into my brain now! I’m crossing my fingers.
Bootiful!
DDDD was back. I did not eat anywhere near all the fodder on the tray. Somehow, I lost my appetite halfway through.
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Carer Richard arrived. I knew he’d been off work, but I thought it was just because of the flu, but he mentioned his accident at home. He fell backwards, hitting the back of his head on the washing machine door and knocking it off. Waking up hours later, covered in blood! Concussed. Poor lad, he appears to be as lucky as I am, which is not lucky, of course, well, not good luck. 
Puffer clouds.
Afternoon sunburst.
Sunset.
Sunset zoomed-in.
Not a good one, but the moon.
Evening all! Not used to the camera yet. (Excuse! Hehe!)
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realised the time. I’d be sat there for hours! And it was 0750 already. Guilt and needing the Porcelain Throne forced me to drag my aching body and attachments to the wet room. I was lucky I hadn’t delayed things cause the moment I’d removed the dressing gown and lifted my nightshirt (You can’t touch me for that, Hehehe!) The Trotsky Terence evacuation flooded out. I think I was lucky. 
At the same time, the gurgling and rumbling from my innards suggested that I get back to the 
post Haste! 
, stopping me from doing anything else on the blog. 
were all a little easier this evening. So this cheered me up more than it should have because within minutes of writing this, 
sounded in the kitchen. But I heard it, so I had to get up and check things out. Then the telephone landline rang. It was The NCC 
control room about the alarm. After further investigating why the alarm had activated, I noticed the washing-up liquid bottle was almost empty. I had a leak that ran over the counter and down onto the alarm box on the floor. Humph!
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And the hospital bed, & controller,
On his phone, saved these to his SND recorder,
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kicked off. They came thicker and faster than they ever have before. I could concentrate on nothing, and time lost all meaning. Made worse when 
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, but I recognised that my own thoughts were about why the gal had to do extra shifts
meal of sorts, fish balls, onions and Milk Roll sliced bread with a BBQ tomato sauce dip. I found approximately 4 empty bags of onion rings, and a Marmite crisps in the wastebasket. 
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The Kodak Brownie box camera?
Your first motorbike, I think this was a Jawa?
Were you impressed by Blackpool Tower?
Did you use the 1960’s new Surf Automatic soap powder?
Remember the 1959 Ford Anglia, with rear window angular?
Recall the Ration Book, weekly; 
Do you remember the outside toilet, the pissoir?
No hot water tank; for the better-off, an Ascot geyser.
The Saturday night bath; that was a bummer?
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was not one of the being-good-to-me ailments! Which, understandably, set off 
, but both soon calmed down again. I can’t believe all this good luck I’m having! 
gums and lips, it was enjoyable-ish. Sorry, there’s no photo cause it looked a lot better than it tasted.