Inchies Local New Snippets with Odes- Part Two

Inchies Local New Snippets Part Two

Here are some terrible crimes being committed,
That will never be lessened or ameliorated,
While issuing laughable, pathetic sentences…
And obviously guilty scum, even get acquitted!
Judges and Parole officers aren’t assassinated.

Prisons are losing many an inmate…
Out on the run, not waiting for their release date…
They’d be freed by the Parolees and only had to wait…
Judges give them ten years… you’ll have to do two, mate…
A policy of being kind, as they kill… I can’t explicate!

Part Two of Nottingham’s Animalistic Crime Snippets
Plus, a rare bit of good news – I hope

I nearly got caught by these scamming swine!
At 03:40hrs the other morning, I was drinking wine…
The mobile phone tune flashed, did opine,
A text message tune. Had someone forgotten the timeline?

To me, this looked all genuine and fine,
With the NHS website on a lower line…
I got back to my alcohol-free wine,
No need to take any ranitidine!

But I fretted over it, oh, this worrying of mine…
Dithering, vacillation and my mental decline…
Carer Richard, fast becoming a mate of mine,
Investigated, found the telephone number online,
Do not use it! It was a Scammers mobile line!
Richard’d saved me from another dwine!

Whoever took this photo is a braver person than me,
Eight men fighting in front of your home are, ayee!
I’d hide behind the curtain, likely needing a wee-wee,
Full marks to the photographer, heroic of thee…

What going on with violence in this country?
I suppose it’s similar in Liverpool and Coventry?
Italy, France, Ireland, America or Germany?
Gangs, some worse than were the Mafia family!.

No peace for the lad’s family. Indeed, there will be no justice in the sentencing if they are found guilty.

Oh, the poor unfortunate little chickadee,
Sentenced to six years in prison… he’ll soon be free…
The Parole Board won’t let him serve more than three,
These overpaid do-gooders really wrangle me!

So are so many paedophiles walking free,
But we can’t cure them, you see?
Why are they let off so easily?
Bent judges? Or full of sympathy?
Do judges and parollers suffer from epicaricacy?

Don’t approach him; he’s dangerous?
Life imprisonment; in an open jail, Jesus!
Why, with such dangerous scum, be generous?
With his record, he’s not likely to be abstemious!
He wants, he takes, violently, certainly not adiaphorous!
He’s cleverer than they thought and stays anonymous…
Till he went on telly, sticking his finger up at us


A letter just arrived from the Doctor,
I know, it was a bit of a shocker…
I thought she’d died; bless her,
It’s been so long since I saw her… November?
I hope she’s not got any sneerier…
I’ve got to make an appointment without failure…

For a Severe Frailty Revue… what can I do?
Cataract ops that’ll make me blind are due?
One on the 15th, then the 18th, not one, but two,
Then the dentists are due around then too…
Dementia Doreen keeps putting me in a screw…
Neuropathy Pete, sending me in a mental stew,
Plans, thoughts, ideas, and intentions are all askew,
Ask for help, they tell me, and that I’d do…
Sounds logical, but to where and who?

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Drunken rages; the man needs help, assistance… but he’s, had support before, but he gets more violent, his partner is in desperate need of help, but shows impressive residence and loyalty… why? I don’t know. Likely because she is so scared of the slob? So it’s heartwarming seeing the caring about the victim judge telling him, after issuing the pathetic sentencing, that he will only serve half of the prison term before being released?

Justice is all we want to see?
Something to make the victim worry-free!
I agree that there is no guarantee…
But slaps on the wrist are fiddle de dee…
The justice system has gone all namby-pamby!

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The Sun Glasses arrived through the door,
Squashed through the letterbox, Cor!
But unbroken, what is more,
The price tag on them read £15.54!
But I paid £4.94, a bargain for sure…
Plastic tag keeping them closed, or…
I’d try them on, but I can’t open them anymore…
Kathleen’s Cataracts, eyesight so poor,
Now, even so cheap, they’ve lost their allure!

——————————————–

Sad as they come…

——————————————–

Ha, Ha, Ha!

I’m confused?

Well, that’s no surprise!

I’m not saying I was not a bit of a tearaway,
But, I see more crumbling of morals day by day,
Manners, politeness, honesty… all in decay…
Empathy, caring, and understanding float away…

Uneducated, unemployable youths today…
Join gangs for self-protection, they say?
Can’t get a job, to violence they stray…
Yet they’re experts on scamming and eBay?

To a degree, it was the same back in my day?
But we knew when to give way, not like today…
Instead of a one-on-one fistfight, now it’s a machete…
Gun, knife, anything to harm and kill nowadays!

If I asked to tell them to be kinder and pray…
Then I would end up as one of their prey!
They rely on drugs and their illegal distillery,
As they age, those not yet killed move on to spivvery,
Get too old for burglary and robbery…
To become au faux with blackmail and bribery…
Some will start wearing ladies’ hosiery…
And, if there’s any justice, catch leprosy!

NEMO MORTALIUM OMNIBUS HORIS SAPIT

A Long Hobble to the Doctors – Guess who forgot to take his camera?

I had rather hoped that the last few days, nonsensical mishaps, clangers, errors, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and the accompanying misery they brought; would be bound to lessen, and albeit an imitation joy would return to the Nottingham Lad. Peace would burst out, and joy would reign…

But, No! Although the morning started well, yes, really. Within minutes of waking up, the wee-weeing were on the move again, and that gave me confidence… well, the hope, that the Doctors Visit would go well, and bladder-bother-wise, there would be no embarrassing moments. The bit I was getting a smidgeon excited about was getting out and taking some photos on my hobble to the surgery. It’s been so long since I saw, I mean walked outside the flats.

My main concerns were forgetting to take the camera and not leaving anything on that should not be in the apartment. Cockily…

I thought it would be wise to get the camera into the coat pocket now, along with the bus pass for the return journey as soon as I got my ever-increasing in volume flabby flobby stomached body, from the c1968,  £300, second-hand, c1968, horrendously grungy coloured, eyesore of a haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

Whistling to myself! Yes, I was feeling a little cocky!

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I took a snap of the tootsies; they were not looking too bad at all this morning.

Rose up, caught my balance, and responded to the demand from Bladder-Boris, and took a wee-wee, a pain-free one too!. Things had started well!

Took the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), emptied, cleaned and sanitised it, then went to the kitchenette and got some potatoes in the slow cooker. While the kettle was heating up, I took a snap of the view… the sky had an odd hue to it?

Made a mug of Glenettie, and started on updating yesterday’s blog for an hour or two, then went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time, and got involved in washing the thick jumper in the sink.

Got it washed, rinsed, wrung and hung above the sink to drip dry.

The brain engaged, and I remembered to put the camera into the jacket pocket. I even remembered that I had to wear clothes that gave the nurse easy access to my arm… Yes, the letter from the surgery told me to! Humph! Anyway, my being nervous about intimidating Fog-Horn Nurse, I worked out how to oblige. When I get the ablutions done, I’ll wear my sleeveless jacket next to the skin and a thick cardigan over it, so I can easily give the Obergrüppenfureress nurse no delay. Not that I’m scared of her or anything like that… but I am. Hehe!

The Carer arrived a little late, not that it mattered, I have time to get everyone done for going out, the appointment isn’t until midday. It was Carer Richard who came; I was his last call. He’s been called in. Another carer didn’t turn up.

This suited me down to the ground cause being the final call, he had time for a natter with me. Mostly mutual moans over the NHS and Doctors in particular, with some fantastic tales Richard related. I thought at first that our laughing might disturb Herbert in the flat above… which made me even happier at the thought of the noisy, arrogant, taciturn, aloof Herbert being disturbed by my noise for once. Not that I have anything against the antisocial, evasive, uncongenial, phlegmatic, pococurante, gentleman, of course. (I lie well sometimes!)

After Richard left, taking some bags to the chute for me on his way, I got the blog updating finished, then did a little Facebooking. Time to get the ablutions done. Long gone are when I would make sure I’d got half-an-hour to get the ablutions done; it’s an hour nowadays needed. Everything went tremendously smoothly… well, all bar the shaving bit. I’m still confused over this hair-raising anomaly… Hehe!

How come the hair still grows behind my earholes and nowhere else? Hehehe!

I took the Canon camera from the coat pocket to record this little Accifauxpa, then rushed it back to the jacket, and I finished showering and medicationing. Got on the planned attire… Which must have made me look bloody awful. A well-stretched woolly jumper, with a multi-pocketed jacket and no shirt on underneath, which left part of my chest open to the elements, lumpy… but it was warm for me, once I got outside and on my journey. Which you will read, was delayed…

I got the bags checked, nibbles for the Doctors surgery staff, and Deana & Julie, off I went down in an elevator.

THE ELEVATOR SCARE!

It genuinely frit me when I got in the cage with the trolley, and the lift began to move, and loud creaking noises could be heard! And when the brake was applied at the ground floor, a screeching was heard! I thought maybe it was because I had the hearing aids in and new batteries? I was going to call on Deana’s office and would mention it to her. I hobbled through the link passage and through to the office – but no one was in! Natalie from the Care Team came in, and we had a minute chinwagging, and I forgot all about the lift! Hey-ho!

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!

As I reached the end of the road, to turn right down Winchester Street, so many photographicalisationing opportunities were on view. The new flats being built, cars parked right up on the pavement that I had to walk on the road to pass. The git in a BMW who papped at me… all were begging to be photographed… But No! Who had put the wrong multi-pocketed jacket on, with the camera now in the other jacket pocket? With the cash! Yes, it’s not a tricky question, is it! And I wanted to do some shopping at Lidl and Wilko as well. I calmly spat, swore venomously, stubbed my toe on the trolley wheel, spat and cursed again, and just carried on – hoping I could remember the pin number if I ever got to a shop. I may have cried a little too?

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I’ll try to make the rest of the journey in Ode, but it might not be terrific…

Further down the street, I got almost angry,
Double glazers blocked the footpath again!
I felt bitter and almost insurrectionary,
Back into the road to pass, and then…
Another pap-pap from a driver, an obscenity!
I felt like going and having tea in the kitchen,
Where the hell’s the local Constabulary?

Down and onto Mansfield Road I did turn,
A bloke on a mobility scooter gave me a gurn,
Looked like he’s just left a pub or tavern!
Manners and respect he never learned?

Up towards Carrington, having lost my earlier swank,
I’d forgotten the tenners to swap at the bank!
An Escooter from behind with a clank,
My hopes and respect for humanity sank

Top of the hill, I was tired and feeling a bit queer,
The back was hurting, Anne Gyna too, oh, dear!
After a few minutes, I felt a little chirpier,
On to the surgery, my walking getting wonkier…
Ten minutes to go, not admitted any earlier,
Did a puzzle, thoughts of the nurse were scarier…

Got in to see the nurse, things got zanier,
She sounded as if she was a little friendlier,
“You’ve not bared your arm like we told yer!
She tore at the jumper, she felt uneasier,
When the bare flesh of my arm teased her!
Her bullying attitude got weaker…
But I was unhappier, a proved wrong nurse…
There is nothing much worse…
Embarrassed, I resisted a curse…
Turning to leave, I ricked Back Pain Brenda!
Although it hurt and was very tender…
I got out without any more verbals; things got rosier!
Off to the Lidl store, I did scamper!

Once in the store, I was happier here…
Food all around me cost no barrier…
Escaping the nurse, was summat to revere,
Food shopping, something I hold dear!
With the Carers costs, I should be austere?
But its food, I gave a silent chanticleer!

Although eating can make me podgier, please,
They had in stock of tomatoes, and garden peas,
I got yoghourt, and other things with these,
But I resisted getting any more Derby cheese…
Strong cheddar and apples together, please!

I got out shopping, what a wheeze!

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BUSES BACK TO THE FLATS

I caught a 57 bus to Sherwood, and I rather sillily and expensively went into the Wiko store. They had got some 500ml Zoflora Lemon Zing disinfectant back in stock – Well, that did it! I got three bottles, I’m afraid they were £4 each, Ahem!

It is the only disinfectant strong enough for me to use in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). I also use it in the event of any Accifauxpas with the bladder or bowel movements. Really worth the extra. If I do have any leaks, the PPs Protection Pants can help, but on the odd occasion, splashes when wee-weeing have been known to spray back and over the carpet or floor. Again this product comes into its own. I leave any clothes soaking in Zoflora and washing soda, or even Citric Acid capsules if I have any in stock, overnight usually, before washing them. A little tip there. Haha!

I got the things bought put away. The Lidl smoked ham off-cuts were far superior to those I had to throw away from the Co-op: they were almost just pork crumbs. And they only had a one-day eat-before date on them. Their beef pasties only had two days of life! I intend to eat those tonight; that was the plan. But I’ve spent so long doing this blog update, it is already gone 01:30hrs! Harrumph!

The Carer came late again, Carole, no not Carole, I’ve forgotten her name now. Tsk! She was not talkative, although it was her last visit. She was so tired but sociable enough without actually proper talking if that makes sense. Still, a can of Gin later, and she was a bit cheerier, bless her. ♥

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Took these shots of the evening sunset.

Then, I noticed a chap or woman down in the end car park area. To all intents and purposes, it looked like he/she had taken a body out of the back of the vehicle. And was hitting it with a stick. I hope not!

Ah, well, must get summat to eat and my head down.

Inchcock – Frid 30 Oct 20: Early start, hectic day, but got my head down earlier than usual. (Bliss!)

The TFZer Show – Tickets from $600

Friday 30th October 2020

Scots Gaelic: Dihaoine 30 Dàmhair 2020

01:00hrs: Got up, wee-wee, wash, cuppa tea, Throne (Messy, but quick and mot so painful)

Thought: Appointments today: City Cardiac, then CDH Checks, then Flu-Jab. Must get the computing done as early as possible.

Got the Health Checks done. Bottled the urine samples ready for the hospital and doctors.

Computerised, template created, photos downloaded and prepped for publication.

Got the Thursday blogs finished and posted off.

Pinterested, Emai link sent, Facebooking updated.

WP and Facebook Comments read and answered.

WordPress reader section visited.

SisterJane rang. Pete was feeling a little better, thank heavens. Anf, Jane’s eye still had no vision. We are a set!

She’d seen my Warden Deana on the BBC 1 News and told me to put it on, so I could take some photos of it. It will come on again. We had a natter and laugh, and that was great!

But with the Doctors, Hospital things to sort out, and trying to get some blogging done, I couldn’t really concentrate.

No time to do owt on this blog at all. And needed to get the ablutions done, then get the things needed to take with me sorted out.

Got the first sample, and it was coloured like level 5-6. Which was much better now, got it in the three-wheeler walker guide bag, so as not to forget it!

The ablutions were done next. The mind was confused with so much detail to go through. The Ablutionalisationing is almost a blur, so much did I rush, and with my mind on so many things at the same time.

Jane rang back, and they will try to get some photos if Deana comes back on the BBC, for me. Bless em! That was good of them. I hope she can get some.

I found a letter on the floor near the door, only Sainsbury offering money off vouchers, but only if I spend £60! Oh, Goodie! Makes a change from crushed cakes and lousy silly substitutes, I suppose.

I got some breakfast. Marmite bread thins, potatoes from last night, and Frazzles with a mug of Glengettie tea! And most enjoyable it was too! As my Dad used to say: “It went down a reet treat, that did!”

I got some hand washing done, wrung and hung. Only one Zip-up jacket, and left it drip-dry at its leisure, on a coathanger above the kitchen sink.

I tried to get my head together and make sure I’d got everything needed for the medicalisational visits. Then the bus-pass, keys, cash, etcetera.

I didn’t feel too confident, and had a nagging feeling that I’d forgotten something or other! Which I suppose would not be anything new. Hehe!

I got the trolley, with the nibble-treats for the Hospital and Surgery staff, and set out, feeling apprehensive, and not knowing why I felt that way.

I turned and figuratively, waved farewell to the flats at the end of the road.

The hobble down Winchester Street was a hard, nervous-making experience. I’d forgot about the brakes being useless on the three-wheeler, and had to take my time and extra care not to topple it over. I stayed on the right-hand side pavement going down, to avoid having to walk in the road again to get by, for I had spotted a lorry in the distance parked on the pavement, Swine!

Not that the men had any alternative, really than to park there, they were in a sort of, mission impossible situation.

I walked up the Mansfield Road hill and stopped to check on the timing.

I was in plenty of time to get to the first appointment without any rushing. I had an hour before I needed to be there, so took my time and tried to take in the scenery, even though it was a bit bleak at times.

Near the hospital, on the ring road, a Pavement Motorist was spotted, for a change.

I crossed over at the Pelican lights and was soon entering the DVT Antigoagulation Unit. Where I registered and was taken straight into the treatment room.

(Well, they probably considered me an important, powerful, dynamic, wealthy patient, who was due the best care and not to be kept waiting… A Smug-Mode of ginormous proportions came over me) Hehehe!

I was soon on and attached to the machine, and within minutes, while the Q&A session was done, I was on my way out again! No obvious problems they said, an analysed result report will be sent to me. I thanked them and handed over some plonk in thanks.

I caught the bus, intending to stay on it into Carrington, and the Doctor’s surgery. Good planning, or what? On the way out, I walked to the Stroke Ward I was in, to leave them some nibbles and treats in thanks.

But, they were that busy. I decided it was best not to intrude. called to. From what I saw, they had just had a new patient come in.

 : The bus arrived within minutes of my getting to the bus stop (It’s going too well, I thought – Little knowing what lie ahead!) I got on the bus and decided to have a ferret around in the bag, to check that I’d got everything needed for the surgery visit. Concentrating on this, as the bus neared the stop I’d usually get off at in Sherwood, I panicked thinking I would miss the stop, rang the bell, and the driver waited patiently for me to struggle and get off? Bless him!

When got on the pavement is when it dawned on me… I’d got off at the wrong stop!   ‘Whatta a Plonka!’ Oy, oy, oy! I decided, as there was still bags of time available for me, I’d walk into Carrington, maybe even go in Lidl to see what they had on offer. It was very leisurely, and I was not too annoyed with myself – I’ve come to almost expect such calamities nowadays. Tsk!

I set of at a steady-hobble, no need to overdo it, still bags of time to get there punctually. Sherwood looked so barren this morning, with more retailers than ever closed down again, it’s so sad. All those people with their dreams shattered! Humph!

I’d not gone far, and Pavement Cyclist came from behind me, I smelt his B.O. as he passed me by. It’s not as if there was a lot of traffic for him to be scared off, on the Mansfield Road. I noticed he had the bike in the lowest gear, his legs were going like the clappers, but he was not getting anywhere fast. (A Sherlock Holmisianism moment, there) Hehehe!

I crossed over to the other side at the Pelican lights, over the hill and down int Carrington towards the church. It was still looking glum.

A bit further down the hill, and another Pavement Cyclist appeared. This one was more determined to ignore or injure any pedestrians than the previous one, and really did come close to hitting me, and the ladies further on. Git!

There was still time to spare, so I visited the Lidl store. Got some bits, and paid on the self-serve tills, no idea what I was doing wrong, but an assistant came to me on each of five times I did something wrong, and muttered something to me, and put it right. I didn’t realise I’d bought so much stuff, and had to stop on my way out, and rearrange things in the trolley, and make up another bag to hang on the handlebars. This took me a while to do, and I realised

I had to get a nip on to get to the surgery in time for the appointment, so I did!

I hastened to the surgery; thus, I was in a bit of a state when I arrived. They have now got an intercom system for us to use, which is not good when because of the mask-wearing, I can’t use the hearing aids when out and about. I’ve no idea what the lady was saying, but she let me in eventually. She thought I looked poorly and told me to take a seat, one of the only two seats now, in the waiting room. It was the late rushing to get there that had caused my laboured breathing. 

I was soon being called into the treatment room by the new surgery nurse. A most pleasant blood pressure, temperature, pulse, weighing, measuring, recording, and questions and answer session took place. During which, Doctor Vindla came in and gave me my Flue-Jab. Lovely to see them all again. I was leaving and Nurse… (Oh, dear, the phlebotomy nurse, I’ve not seen her for that long, I’m, ashamed to say I’ve forgotten her name. lovely lady too! Caroline was it? I bet Tim Price will remember for me?), came to chat for a few seconds. I handed the giant bottle of Perry for them all to share at Christmas, and sadly, I had to leave, by the front door now, as part of the Anti-Corona rules. Ah, Gorrit, I think, it was Nurse Nichole! ♥

I was weary but happy enough as I wobbled along Mansfield Road with the trolley, up and over the hill. (Travailing with the well-filled heavy trolley, which will be fun getting onto and off of the bus when I get to Sherwood, Tsk!)

As I was getting to Spondon Street, another ignorant, nasty, anti-social, objectional, offensive, law-breaking, seditious, thoughtless, inconsiderate, mannerless, yob, scumbag of a Pavement Cyclist belted by me, making my jump, he was so close! Grrr!

But it didn’t bother me.

But, as I went up the hill to the bus stop, another ignorant, nasty, anti-social, objectional, offensive, law-breaking, seditious, thoughtless, inconsiderate, mannerless, yob, scumbag of a loutish young Pavement Cyclist, was doing wheelies on the wide pavement?!?! I had to go around him to get into the Wilko store for my bleach! Grobleknackerbangles!

I paid and heaved my body and trolley up to the bus stop. The distant skies did not bode well at all. Incidentally, while I was waiting for the bus, three cars went through the traffic lights on red. Tsk! I suppose they know that those traffic-light cameras do not have any film in them?

I took a photo to the left, down the hill before the number 40 bus arrived. The driver getting a smidge annoyed as I struggled to get on the bus, and then to get sat down where I could hold onto the trolley. But it couldn’t be helped. Sorry, driver!

I was son back up Winchester Street and alighting the bus. Two residents to get off, I went first, and I’d like to mention that I did so without any Accifauxpas, injury or damage! And, I assisted the chap from my block behind me, to alight the bus with his trolley. Mega-Smug-Mode-Adopted!

We walked to the end of the road and got inside the Woodthorpe lobby and to the lifts. I got in and invited the chap to join me, which he appreciated, he looked as done-in as I felt, bless him. He had to get out, to let me out of the lift, I didn’t realise he loved on the 4th floor. Still, we managed a laugh about it. I fumbled about getting the trolley in, with its extra weight and bags, and into the corner.

I soon realised that my original plans to get the updating done of this diary were not going to happen. I was jiggered, exhausted in body and mind! My new plan; was to get something to eat, wash, and head-down, even though it was still early, even for me to seek sleep.

As I got into the kitchen with the purchases from Lidl and Wilko, I spotted what looked like a fire in the far distance.

I got the camera from my jacket pocket and took this picture. Then got the bags opened and sorted the things needed for the meal I’d planned on the bus, earlier. The Potato Rosti was a must-have, even though I left some new pots cooking in the crock-pot. I could taste it before I’d got it in the oven. Took some grapes, an apple, tomatoes and washed them, for slipping on the plate.

I made the feast up and got it served n the tray. But made far too much for me, in my tired state of health; however, the potato rostis, grapes, some of the tomatoes and potatoes were eaten. A Taste-Rating of 7/10 given, it was just me being so tired.

I was happily amidst feasting, and the door-chimes rang out. I put the food tray on the chair, and fought my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner, and off to investigate who my caller was.

Aha! My visitor had been my patron saint Jenny, from the 8th floor. Who had kindly left me some yellow tomatoes, a big bag too! She does look after me! ♥

Then I got settled back in the c1968 recliner, it was nippy in here tonight, so I used a heavier quilt. Put theTV on, but I didn’t need the TV, or anything of a somnifacient nature, for the Sweet Morpheus, enwrapped herself around my body and brain within a few minutes – and it was good! I believe I was dreaming of being asleep in my sleep?

I put the tom’s in the fridge, and got my ponderously pot-bellied, portly-paunch placed back onto the recliner; grabbed the tray of food, got my legs up on the chair, and was just about to restart noshing it, and the Landline burst forth and flashed!

So, I put the food tray on the chair, and fought my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner, got the stick, and off to answer the phone.

It was my Alma Mater, Jenny. She told me of how she managed to get some yellow tomatoes for me again, and we had a chinwag with laughs for a while. I was a smidge out-out-it and didn’t write down what else was talked about, so I must find out if anything was arranged or agreed upon tomorrow. We bade each other a fond-farewells, and I think (hope) I thanked her again for the tomatoes ♥.

I returned to the rickety recliner, to have another go at eating the meal. But couldn’t each much more, and was back to wide-awake mode. However, what I did eat was more than enough for what I needed, so is a blessing in disguise, and stopped me gobbling too much. Hahaha!

I washed the pots and took a snap of the threatening skies.

Took the evening medications, cause I forgot earlier with flailing so early.

I realised that my being out and about so long, I’d missed taking two of the Dioctyl® stool softeners. Uncertain whether to take three now or just the one, I veered on the safe side, and just took the one. (A choice that I much-regretted in the mornings’ Porcelain Throne session – Rock-solid again, Argh!)