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 Today Wednesday 18th May 2022: Dairy

Wednesday, 18th May 2022

Ode To Depression

This morning, my depression turned to contemplation,
First, a few moments of deep retrospection,
What ifs, maybes and with some reprehension…
With mixed feelings, I recalled Thatcherisation,
A spirit that shocked and scared the whole nation,
Can’t keep his pants on John Major, constipation!
Tony Blair, liar, self-advancer and chancer… revulsion!
Gordon Brown, debt maker, indeed, no statistician,
Runaway Etonian, smug, arrogant but shit… Cameron,

Theresa May, Grenfell Fire, Tory Council, on the next day,
Lessons from the fire would be learned, she did say…
Visited the aftermath and was chased away!
Kensington & Chelsea London Borough Council, well they…
… are responsible, but Tories: So, no prosecutions to this day!

Guilt, self-blame, and self-recrimination led to self-expostulation,
Whatever came to mind led me to self-recrimination…
Black depression, I’d lost control and rationalisation…
I needed a bit of luck… to regain my motivation…
Eventually, I settled for acceptance of insanity and self-irrision!
It seems my life will never get any moments that are ambrosian,
Then again, there’s is there ever any justification…

But no! I shall fight this darkness by being conciliatory,
Apart from the ailment, deafness, and cataract, I can see…
Most of the other problems are down to my past stupidity!
The guilt should be expected and accepted, you see…
Bad choices, and decisions, are coming back to haunt me!
So how do I fight them off to get my mind guilt-free?
I just have to sulk and take the blame compliantly!

I found when reading this that it flows with duplexity…
My rambling thoughts get entangled, incipiently…
Reviewing failures is a wise thing, necessitously…
I’ve so many ailments and faults characteristically,
And a stomach that bulges grows, excrescently!
I struggle through each day rather incompetently,
Thought storms and depressions are just an inevitability!
This does not stop me from wanting happiness, such a pity!

Inchcock is now out of his Dracula Depression,
The main reason was his guilt; he now shows contrition…
The reasons for this, there’s a combination…
Well, several really, starting with his visit to the fridge,
He found some mushroom pate, just a smidge…
Not a common pate; this one had caramelisation!
With chips in his freezer, this eased his deprivation!
Chips, pate, tomatoes for his palettes delectation…
He loves his comfort food, and that’s no exaggeration,
He now accepts his loneliness and being Godforsaken…
First, though, this blog to do; he also loves his scriptitations!

Diary

Due to my taking so long to do the ode, a shortened version. Sorry!

After falling asleep early last night, I sprang awake at 01:30hrs. Wee-wee, wash, wee-wee.

Sorted out a waste bag or two, passed wind, and shot to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne – Trotsky Terence controlled – Messy! Decided to get the ablutions done. A lot of cleaning was already needed after the almost liquid evacuations.

Got the computer on. I loaded pictures from yesterday.

Latest local Covid figures.

I’m assuming Tuesday night, a meal from earlier, not positive as to which day it was on. But Dementia Doreen is not letting me access the old memory easily at this moment. She is a bugger!

Getting back into the room after ablutionalisationing. The legs, ankles and feet were looking a  little less battered about. But Arthur Itis and Cathy’s Cartilage were giving me some sticks.

Carer Richard arrived. Looking well done in after his shift. He said he had another call to make, so he could not stop for a decent natter. But still gave me a few minutes, bless him.

Herbert kept me company over the next couple of hours as I started updating yesterday’s blog. Got it finished as Herberts stopped his banging and clanging. Which was nice not to hear.

I took a break, and hobbled around the flat, did the belated balance exercises, and did a bit of bending, but this routine was restricted by Cathy and Arthur Itis. But no Dizzy Dennis visits yet. Yehaa!

Facebooked on TFZ and Winwood Heights pages. Did some WordPress Reading, then Comments reading and answered. Computing again, I Finished and posted the blog.

Made a start on the ode for this blog. The ideas were coming so fast I could hardly type them fast enough… thus it took me hours and hours to get it finished, and a multitude of errors had to be corrected.

Herbert gave me good hours of bangs, scraping noises, tap-tapping, and finishing his concert with a proper crunch-thud. Silence after that? I hope the haughty, snobby, pompous gentleman has not injured himself and is not lying up there, bleeding in agony.

I put the computer in sleep mode, rose from the swivel chair, and went into the balcony to have a moment’s peace. Took the Canon camera with me and shot the end car park

RVM, the Red-Van-Man van, had parked even further into the yellow chevron No Parking Zone. Still, it is not too important an issue with all the murders, prison escapes, stabbings, and children being mauled and killed by dogs.

I pressed on with the blog, but tiredness overcame me. It does that occasionally, I’ve noticed!

I called my Precious Jillie (Ex Carer) to see if she’ll be in tomorrow, and I can drop off the flowers for her. (Assuming that J Sainsbury’s delivers them and not a block of lard as one of their famous substitutes!) Luckily she agreed. So on the way down to get some cash from the hole in the wall.

I can pop them into Jill’s home, go to the bank, and then Ozan, the Continental Shop, for their delicious vegetarian beef, sausages and sourdough bread (Not on order from JS). No doubt some other bits that will catch my eye.

I turned off the computer, planning to get my meal, head down, and wake alter to complete the blog-finishing mission.

I got the nosh prepped and served up. Potato fries, finely crushed tomatoes, veggie bacon, and a pot of the delicious instant mash with veg sausage bits and a gravy flavour. Not a mixture one would usually have, but I was tired, confused, and a smidge fed-up at the time. But it tasted okay, and I ate most of it. Taste Rating: 7/10.

Stripped and washed, I got down in the £300 second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working recliner, underneath a blanket. Determined to get to sleep…

On the verge of nodding off, I realised I was naked, and the Carer was due in about an hour… So, not wanting to make the mistake of greeting a Carer with no trousers on again, I got some jammie bottoms, and a t-shirt on, about to get back down in the chair, and needed a wee-wee rather urgently, and made my way to the bucket…

I stubbed my toe on the wheel of the recliner as I lost my balance… banged my already painful Arthur Itis and Cathy Cartilage patella on the arm of the chair, swore, nearly pee’d myself but got there in time… had a somewhat sad wee-wee, and emptied the now nearly-full NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), washed and disinfected it.

Eventually, I got resettled in the recliner. Once again, on the verge of drifting off to sleep… and ♫Oh, Susana♫ chimed from the doorbell, and Carer Valerie came in. I was not entirely with it, but she got me sorted, and unknown to me at the time, she washed meal things for me. Bless her!

Gave up, got up, and got back on the Computer. Sleep had been taken of of my agenda now. I turned the TV on to watch a Heartbeat episode, nodded, and missed the last ten minutes.

I cheered up a bit when the Card Reader started working again, and I got this photographicalisation that I took earlier of semi-puffer clouds. Tsk! I thought I saw a claw, but I can’t find it now.

It is now just gone midnight. And I’ll post this off and try again to get some sleep, Sweet Morpheus permitting, of course.

Inchcock’s Diary, with Memories and an Ode

What happened to Inchcock on this day, in 1953?

On his way home from the getting some cows heel and tripe for his Dad. As he was crossing the canal on the bridge on Wilford Street. A gang of teenage Herberts lifted him and unceremoniously threw him off the bridge into the canal! Being about six years of age, scared to death of water, and unable to swim (His fear was life-long, he still can’t). He struggled to grab hold of a barge rope hanging over the side of the boat but lost his grip, he got cold, and his fingers were not big enough to hold on… As he sank into the water, a pair of strong hands from a bloke in a rowing boat dragged him out and took him home. Where his father knocked the hell out of him for losing the tripe and cow heel, pointing out that the 2/6d (12.5p) cost would come out of his pocket money! Which baffled the lad a bit cause he never did get any pocket money from his Dad in his life?

SUNDAY 15th MAY 2022

05:15hrs, I begrudgingly woke and awaited the brain to join me. Which it did, with the message that I needed a wee-wee. I freed my cumbersomely large bellied body from the £300 second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working recliner. NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) took me a while due to the vast amount of  PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling).

Dizzy Dennis kept going at me all morning long in short bursts. I got the waste bag sorted out and started prepping the veg to go in with Josies Chilli meal. Chopped leeks, carrots and peas.

Opened the can of Chilli and started adding the cooked vegetables. Put them in the saucepan and add squid vinegar (liquid salt), chilli powder, Worcester sauce, and malt vinegar. After testing the flavour, I can add gravy salts and tomato puree with basil.

Herbert is noisy again. Bloody Sundays and weekends, he’s always the same!

I visited the Porcelain Throne. A good job that the carer was so late because I must have been in the half-an-hour at least. Most of the time was spent cleaning and clearing up. Trotsky Terence was in charge again. You wouldn’t believe the amount of loo roll used! Tsk!

Got a good wash and showering done, I felt a bit better then. Coming out of the wet room, I got through the door, and by the fairer without a knock, shoulder slamming or toe stubbing.

A new carer came in without ringing the buzzer-chime, and of course, I didn’t hear her coming. Sarah, she’s not been before. Nice gal, but she didn’t take the waste bag with her, no problem. I can do that later with the next one to go. No problemo! Well, as long as Vascular Dementia Doreen lets me remember. Hehehe!

The photos went on through the card reader!!!! So I got the old ones on. Yesterday one here first. The state of the ankles as I came out from the shower yesterday. Not painful nor itchy, although they did later.

These on the right are what they looked like after this morning’s session at ablutioning. Not any different, really. Or are they, and Cataract Kathleen has missed something?

A morning photographicalisation from the kitchenette next. The bright sunshine on my face made it impossible to take a good one.

My evening, well, was the only meal of the day. Potato slices baked, tomatoes, crap tasting sugar snap peas. And gorgeous mushroom pate on a couple of baps. Taste Rating: 8.8/10!

These two were taken with a sort of foggy haze in the air. After seeing them, I thought they had a kind of gentle quality to them. That’s not what I mean, but as close to what I can explain. Peaceful, tranquil, they made me feel free from strife… of course, that didn’t last for long. But a good sensation while it lasted… I’m now awaiting the arrival of the next Whoopsiedangleplop. I pressed on with updating and posting the Saturday bog to WordPress. The Facebooking, WP Reader, and some WP comments are to read and reply to.

Herbert’s cacophony of banging, clanging and grinding noises continues.

A wee-wee, and back to the photos. I took this shot from the balcony. RVD (Red-Van-Man) is back, but the small red car has taken up his beloved parking spot on the yellow no-parking lines. Hahaha!

Time to start checking on and serving up Josie’s nosh now. On my way to the kitchen, ♫Oh, Susan♫ chimed out from the doorbell? Josie came to tell me that she was going out to a restaurant with her sister and didn’t need the meal! Well, blow me, fancy letting me know half an hour before I deliver the meal! But let’s face it, it’s much better than five minutes. Hehehe!

She said she could collect it tonight on her way home. So, I said I’ll put it in a big jar to let it cool, then you can place the container into your fridge; that’ll be two chillies to use later on. Josie added, “She’s (Her sister) has only just called me to let me know”.

Herbert just dropped something this time; it sounded heavy. I gave him a gentle tap on the piping with my walking stick. Not that it will do anything to help me get some peace. He is the most equanimous, unforthcoming, stand-offish person I’ve ever met. Superior Shithouse!

“Clunk, thud, ratattattatat!” That serves me right for getting annoyed. Then I kept getting scratching-like and knocking noises. I’m so sorry, Sir Herbert!

Two chilli meals in the container and some treats for Josie when she gets back from the meal with her Sister at the restaurant. I’ll get mine (meal) started now, then see if owt is on the TV cause the computer problems are driving me mad! (Of course, there are many other reasons, Haha!)

I put the potatoes and vegetarian burger in the oven, peas in the pan, chopped some mini tomatoes and got the TV on for half an hour while the burger and spuds baked. And put the TV on. To find the Ladies Cup Final was showing, and I got deeply into it, so interested that I forgot all about the cooking!

I fumbled out of the £300 second-hand, decrepit, c1968 recliner, got Walter the Wooden Walking Stick, and into the kitchenette. I nervously opened the oven door… The ‘bake for 30 minutes’ food had been in for nearly an hour!

The breadcrumbed veggie burger did not look appealing at all. It felt very hard. As expected, the potatoes were overdone; some of them, the smaller ones, were inedible and had to be thrown. Yet I ate all of it! Enjoyed it too! The burgers left in the fridge will get overcooked; it was firm and delicious! The spuds were tough to eat, and no doubt damaged a few of my remaining teeth, but it all tasted grand! Flavour Rating: 8/10! I hope Duodenal Donald and Harold’s Haemmorhoids can cope with it, and I get no toothache! Hahaha!

Cara Sara arrived, again not ringing the chime and giving me a shock when she entered the room. But a lovely surprise, she is tall, young, beautiful and charming. (Dang to old age! Har-har!)

Sweet Morpheus was again resistant to my requests for shut-eye! But, when he permitted me to nod off, I slept through without any jolting awakes for just under six hours! Great!

Friends Comments when I got shot (First-Time)

“Oh, yer?” An old schoolmate by the name of Elgin,
“Could ‘ave been anyone!” fellow security officer Kathryn,
“Tell me another!” My neighbour in Sherwood, Glyn,
“Shit!” I forget his name, Welsh lad from Abergynolwyn,
“Serves yer right!” The supervisor at control called Kelvin,
“Why?” An old passion of mine, a big gal named Roslyn,
“I wunt du yoor job!” Traffic Warden, called Edwin,
“Tommy rot, yer tit!” Richard, but we called him Dick Turpin,
“Will yer be off work?” Manager, we all called him Fagin!
From the hospital, they sent me back to the site again…
“Can yer drive yersen there, course you can!”… Fagin!
“You can’t claim off of us!” Site manager, on arriving…

Evening All!

Inchcock Today: Intruder Yobboes In The Flat! Sunday 17th April 2022

THE INCIDENTS…

The door chime rang out, but not for the usual length of time? I thought I must have dreamt it, going into and out of wakefulness. A minute later, the chime rang again! I got up and went to the door and looked through the spy-hole – the motion detector light in the lobby was lit! I remembered the note about youths gaining access to the flats through a fire escape door and going around the block, pressing door buzzers and bells, and trying doors! I think it must have been them! Now I was nervous, so sleep was out of the question.

And later, the buzzer went again; I put the light on and heard the door closing noisily! Shit! 

I checked, and the lobby light was on again, so someone had been there. I suspect the youths rampaging again, and this time they were coming into the flat with no doubt nefarious criminal intentions. But with me putting the light on so quickly, it must have surprised them. I heard a voice saying what sounded like ‘Scram! and shadows from the lobby light as they shot off.

I shall have to report this to Warden Deana in the morning… oh, it is morning now. When the wardens arrive at about 09:00hrs.

I am a fool! It is the weekend now. There are no wardens on duty Saturdays and Sundays or evenings. I’ll have to find the Nottingham City Homes control room number and let them know.

I’m a little apprehensive and twitchy now. I bet the scumballs will be back again tonight? Clapthunder! 

As I lay there fretting, I passed wind and made a mess in the Protection Pants to make things worse! Good job that I’ve got plenty in stock. Cause this happened again later! Trotsky Terence was in charge.

The evacuation started and ended before I got down onto the plastic seat! Virtually liquid. What few shreds of solids were a khaki colour, with yellow liquid. The stomach ached and was rumbling throughout. What had I eaten that could have caused this?

I washed, shaved, the teeth were done, olive oiled the ears, Germoloided Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and put the eye drops in (some of the drops actually getting into the eyes!). New PP’s adorned. Changed into the day clothes, and I put the kettle on. Took a Galpharm capsule and a Co-codamol for the tummy pains.

Later on Sunday, I worked on this blog then, the Morning Carer arrived and sorted the medications for me.

I tried to find the number to report the incidents to Nottingham City Homes, but the number was only for Mon to Friday. I mentioned this worry, on the Winwood Heights Facebook page, hoping there may be another number to use. No answer, but it’s only 10:30hrs yet.

Then thought, I’ll report it on the non-emergency police number 101. A fat lot of good that was!

I was getting into a right state, mentally. I rang the 111 NHS number by mistake!

I carefully dialled the 101 digits: The first recorder voice I could hear clearly and got my hopes up. I had to press for Derby or Nottingham Police, which I did. I got a female squeaky to my ears to understand the recorded message.

Farcical! I’d no chance of understanding what was said. So, I had to give up on that, too! People with hearing, sight, and dementia problems are lost in the ether of evolutional methods of contacting anyone for help.

Much as I don’t feel safe locking the door, just in case of another stroke or bad tumble… I do not want the yobs getting into the flat again… Do I lock the door or not?

Not one of my better day endings!

Inchcock & Alto-Ego Morning Spat

A cunning, underhand win for Alto!

I’d had a dream-ridden, ever-waking up, nodding off, back to kip, more nightmares, waking up… a terrible night. I even started to feel sorry for him, then realised it was me! As I reluctantly got my head together, I expected the horrendous Thought-Storms would arrive. But no! Alto-Ego Inchie was on at me like a shot…

Boy, were we both in a niggly mood!

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

“Do you know that you were talking and farting in yer sleep last night?… Mind you, they both made about the same sounds and sense… Hehehe!

“Oh, sod-off Alto, I’m not up to coping with your claptrap yet…”

“Who the $%&+💣 are you talking to? Wot the hecks up wiv yer?”

“Ah, Mr Know-all Alto, needs to ask me what’s up – You’re up and rattling around in my brain, that’s bad enuf! And before I can work out what day and time it is, your there, gobbing away at me! Work it out, Pugface. I had a horrible night’s non-sleep; the Peripheral Peters neurotransmitters in the legs ain’t working…!

“Ah, Tithead! La-la-la Lalala! You ain’t moved yet, so how does yer know, eh, clever clogs?” ♫  ♫

“If I could, I would likely kill you! You are so cruel and cutting – but pig-ignorant with it…”

“That’s cause I am you, yer pillock! You’ve not worked out who and what I am yet, have yer?”

“As I was saying, before being so crudely and rudely interrupted… I can generally sense when the neurotransmitters are failing or about to fail in the legs and feet…”.

“Load of tosh, I don’t feel owt wrong…”

“No, Dumbo, that’s cause you don’t have a body, innit!

“Well, it’s not my fault I ain’t human or that they assigned me to be your Alto-Ego, is it? It ain’t easy yer know, gerrin’ posted to a turd like you – we both have to make the best of it…”

Hang on, hang on, hang on… What are you up to? Where do all this ‘we’ come from? I never heard you use that word before?

“Ulterior motive in there, dogbreath, it’ll do no harm to tell yer worrits all abarght, I suppose. Is yer ready; it’s a bit complicated for an idiot wiv dementia to grasp. I’ll pretend I’m talking to a ten-year-old and choose easy words for yer…”

“This should be good, coming from you, Alto…”

I am aware the yer Doctor is not interested, and also you have the Vascular Dementia, Cataracts, Glaucoma and Saccades in yer eyes… are you following”?

“Yer…”

Well, despite instructions from the Alto-Ego Control Room to make yer life as much hell as possible, I’ve got to be fond of your deafness, Whoopsiedangleploppings, tumbles and falls. stupidity, ailments, failings and countless other inabilities…”

“You’re enjoying this ain’t yer?”

“Not half!”

“Carry on then…”

“Because you give me a laugh and entertain me when I’m just in observation mode. When yer scratched yer head and lost a pint or two pints of blood as you cut the head of the boil-off with yer nail, yesterday… That did it for me; I laughed my head off, which is not easy when you don’t have one!

“Come on, tell me…”

“Where was I?”

“I’m the one wiv dementia! Tsk! You were at; ‘I laughed my head off, which is not easy when you don’t have one!'”

“Oh, yes… be patient…” I decided to help you get some help from the medical profession. Mental, Diabetes, Fungal Lesion, Dentist, Audio clinic and Cardiology. Maybe, just to cover all of your ailments, Gastroenterology, Haematology, DVT, Orthopaedics, Neurology, Nephrology, Oncology, Ophthalmology, Otolaryngology, Rheumatology, Orthopaedics, Urology, Rheumatology, and Urology. To be on the safe side, I’ll add a psychotherapist, psychologist, psychoanalyst, psychopathologist, disorders analyst, guidance counsellor and some men in white coats…

“Are you teasing me or what, having a laugh?

“Oh, no, let me finish before you make a judgement. All will become clear of my genuine good intentions…

Well, gerron wiv it, then!”

I was aware that if I had a go at you about things today, you’d be bound to put it in a blog, see? Thus the billions of medical persons worldwide can potentially feel sorry for you and come forth with free assistance, help and advice for you?

Is that it? You dipstick!

Well, that’s not very nice, is it?

Are you aware of how many of the billions are out there that read my blog? Eh?

Erm, I’ll check my memory log; hang on…

“Whistles”…

“Humming now”…

‘Sorry to keep yer Dumbo… I just calculated some of the figures. Well, I do feel like a fool now, Hahaha! Your average day viewers total for last week was 5…, and likes were 1.5″…

Exactly! How many of them might be doctors in Gastroenterology, Haematology, DVT, Neurology, Nephrology, Oncology, Ophthalmology, Orthopaedics. Otolaryngology, Rheumatology, and Urology. Ophthalmology, Orthopaedics, Rheumatology, and Urology. Thanks for nothing, turd-breath! Let alone psychotherapists, psychopathologists, psychologists, psychoanalysts, or speak and read English, I imagine, would be nil?

Ah, but now you begin to feel a little depressed after having got your hopes up… yes?

Too true, Alto; I’m down in the dumps. I should never have believed you wanted to help me in the first place… I am a pratt of the highest order, and you should be ashamed of yourself for being so abusive, disparaging, tormenting ridiculing, soul and hope destroying antics. I feel guilty and self-loathing for being misled…

Hahaha! I know, it was a masterstroke, wonnit? The way I strung you along, I’m chuffed to bits! And it’ll get me some bonus points from the Alto Management; it’ll likely make my cunning subterfuge the highest placed for the day of all the Altos! Hehehe!

ALTO-INCHIE

INCHCOCK

Oh, Rollock’s! Now, I’ve sunk down into a full-blown, damned Dracula Depression!

I know, Har-har! Gullible Inchcock sinks into despair! Made my day! Hahaha!

Part of Inchcocks Make Them Laugh Series

Inchcock Today Diary – With Ode

Morning each!

Inchies Morning Ode

Wot a start to the day, confusion, logic had been abducted!
The Thought-Storms rampantness; I was abducted,
Fears and worries abounded, leaving me so abstracted…
I rose to worry more; I was totally distracted!

So many things flooded, but nothing with any merit!
Cataracts, Glaucoma, Saccades, fungal lesion, all did wherrit,
If common sense was a ballot, I’d lose my deposit!
These thoughts were unnice, not in friendship…

I got depression until Carer Richard came…
He was in a rush, he had a limited timeframe,
But listen to me moaning, all the same,
Lots in common, we both have an oversized wame!
Neither of us bothered about profit or gain…
Such a decent sort; I’m so glad he came!

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

INCHCOCK TODAY

Monday 4th April 2022

I sort of burst awake; the Thought Storms were straight at me, not relenting for hours. Shame, guilt, worries etc., flowed into my mind one after the other… Guilt was the predominant emotion, along with a close second for shame! Possibly my worst attack of them ever?

I rose within a minute from the second-hand c1966 recliner, and I took a weak unwilling wee-wee in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). Then took it into the wet room to empty and clean and refresh. While in there, I decided to get the ablutions done early.

I think I felt that a shave and shower might free me from the Dracula Depression that had me firmly in its grasp this morning. I fear I didn’t think about the time, so early in the morning and the shower’s noise, and just plodded on unthinkingly. Shame! I’ve never done that before?

I was still not fully engaged in the concentration stakes, taking the jammie bottoms off… I took a tumble backwards… but fear not! I took them off in the hallway (I’m so glad now that I did, too!). Cause I benefited from my back hitting a stack of clothes hanging on the hallway hooks! And took a slow cushioned ride down to the carpet. Hehehe! Although, I didn’t laugh then, until after I had succeeded in getting back up onto my feet.

The teggie-cleaning went fine. The cleaning of the final lesion was no more painful than usual. Then the showering… I realised what time it was as soon I heard noise from the shower unit and felt somewhat culpable. So, I decided a swift shower was in order…

With the rushing about, I hit my head on the power box and carried out a most painful toe-stubbing on the trolley wheel. But I didn’t dwell on these things, for I was in such haste to turn of the power and noise it was making. Then I got around to doing the shaving…

Which turned out to be a rather colourful event… blood red!

There were no nasty nicks… but countless tiny ones all over the double-chin and neck! Unless there are more that I can’t see. Hehe!

But I knew the solution and had a bottle located nearby. But I managed to drop it, and it landed on the floor via the right foot! Also, the bottle did not break! The Brut aftershave was liberally used to stop the bleeding a little. It’s suitable for this job, it stings a bit, but it works!

Then, I turned my attention to medicationalisationings. Little Inchies fungal lesion… I got that out of the way first cause there was never any doubt it would be the most painful. And it was!

After cleaning, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were given an expensive but oh, so cooling covering of Germoloid ointment.

Then the eye drops were carefully and meticulously put in the Saccades suffering right eye. I missed, and the brown liquid ran down the cheek through the moustache and into the mouth. Tsk!

Put the olive oil into the ear canals. And fought to get the socks on, waiting to put a second lot of oil in. I’m supposed to wait for ten minutes in between each application. I didn’t use Sock-Glide-Glenda today. Not that I’m afraid of injury or sick of getting bruises and welts from the damned plastic covered, metal monstrosity of a sock glide, of course.

Did the second oiling of the ear holes. Nae, bother there.

Then did the nasal clearing.

Then I got the manufactured by ZDEAC Daguan Electrical Appliance (Zhongshan Company Ltd) in Guangdong, Sphygmomanometer, to do the Blood Pressure. It had gone down a lot, but a smidge high still, in the red zone, but not by a lot. The body temperature was pleasing at 34.6°c. I think the pulse was 71 bpm. I can’t read it in this photo. Not one of the betterer efforts.

Went to make a brew of Glengettie. The rain was still coming down in torrents.

Carer Richard arrived, in a bit of a hurry, as he had an extra call to make. While he was sorting the medications out, stock wise, I got a message on the phone from Iceland, telling me the delivery was on its way…

It seems I’ve done it again… made a right cock-up. I was sure I’d ordered this for the following Monday? I got a bit hot under the collar with myself about getting things wrong again! I told Richard quickly about m morning so far, and he said he could see the blood on my neck from the shaving farce. He had to fly, taking the waste bags to the chute with him on the way for me. Bless him.

After he’d gone, I seemed to calm down and went into ‘Just accept things’ mode. Sort of que sera, sera. Got on the computer and found the photo of the nosh last night that I could not get to load was with those the reader let me this morning, I think.

Two out of date (only just) desserts, a banana (going soft), bacon two days out of date, tomatoes and some Harry Ramsdens chips that were delightful. Rating: 702/10.

Then, the Iceland delivery arrived. No substitutes either! Hurrah! Some more of the excellent chips, a big bag too. Gastro fishcakes that were on offer if one bought three boxes and mug here did, three with smoked haddock in them and three with mushy peas in them – as the same price? Noughat flavoured iced lollies and a box of beef and black bean sauce in this top picture.

Mushrooms, microwave veg sausages, and some pasties here. I used some mushrooms to go in today’s potato and leek, erm er… whatchamacallit? Stew, I suppose, or thick soup?

Getting things to fit in the fridge was a work of art and meant a lot of hard work and throwing out some items to make room for the new stuff. I doubt I could get a matchbox in there now, not that I want to, of course. It is fuller than it’s ever been! I even took the fishcakes out of their box to get them in the freezer and other things, as you can see.

On the other hand, the fridge, after storing everything away, seems to be able to accommodate more foodstuffs, still?

Back to the wet room, hoping for an easy evacuation like yesterday was, it was almost a pleasure… But no! A reversal of fortunes, I’m afraid. Tough as nuts, firm but not rock-hard, plenty of plasma-like liquid and a smidgeon of blood. You can’t win ’em all! Washed and off to the kitchenette.

Where I got the leeks and potatoes cut up and in the pan. Then to the computer to finish off yesterday’s blog. Which I did and posted to WP. Then answered and made some comments on WordPress. Replied to Lovely HRH Lisa’s Email. I Managed to get some more photos loaded.

Facebooking for a while, then went to season the leeks & spuds. 

Diced some mushrooms, water chestnuts, and tomatoes, and into the pan they went. Adding and tasting after each addition; basil, tom puree, light soy sauce, Henderson’s relish, spirit vinegar, liquid sea salt and veg seasoning cubes. On a low light, and I kept going in to stir it.

Made a start on this blog; it’s getting late now. Compared to this morning, I’m rather chirpy… not happy, not content, yet glad to be free of the dark gloom of depression.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang from the door chime. It was Josie returning the things from her Sunday lunch. She said she enjoyed the leek and potato chilli.

I got the veg chill served up. Settled to watch some TV while I ate the delightfully tasty meal. I ate it all, which bodes of Porcelain Throne action in the morning… Oh, dearie me, yes! Taste: 8/10.

I then proceeded to fall asleep with the tray with emptied dish, spoon, jelly pot and a few slices of uneaten bread on my knee.

An hour or so later, I woke without the tray with the emptied dish, spoon, jelly pot, and a few slices of uneaten bread on my knee. They had fallen on the floor, creating a piece of modern art. Sorry I didn’t photo it now!

It took me a while to get it cleaned up. I made two bottles of flavoured spring water and then got down in the recliner again to try to watch the TV once more.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang from the door chime. It was the evening, Carer. Who got the medications sorted post haste. The gal took the waste bags with her as she departed. Bless her. Bade a farewell, and I got back down in the c1968 recliner.

I thought I may struggle to get back to sleep after nodding off earlier. Bearing in mind that it took me hours to nod off for the last two nights. No problem! Zzz! But it was a short session.

Inchcock Today: Diary Sunday 3rd April 2020

Sunday 3rd April 2020

Inchcock’s Morning Thoughts – In Ode

Hospitals say I’ve got deficiencies, to see an immunopathologist,
Although the second letter used the word, aetiologist…
I’m supposing there’s something here that I missed?
With the eye problems and my being deaf, words vanish…
Confusion, and muddleheadedness, are never vanquished!
Now, with life about to be ended, finally extinguished…

I can’t really say that life is about to be finished…
I’m still waiting for it to start; my hopes diminished…
I could do with my brain rebooted or refurbished…
So long ago now, my confidence vanished,
Never to return or to be re-established,
All through school, at the bottom, I languished…
My hopes and plans that I once so cherished…
Remain vaguely in memory, but they’ve been so malnourished!

——————————————–

03:30hrs: I jumped awake, thinking; I think out loud, “Huh, sod it!” Not a regular awakening tone at all. But I stirred in a mood that is hard to explain… I don’t believe that I was depressed as such. Resigned to loneliness, failure, and ready for whatever fate will befall me… nay, I was expecting it to! Yes, a resignation reigned… not with imperturbability, rather hang-dogged self-annoying deference, acquiescence, almost docility… submission to whatever fate is to bring to me…

Blimey, that read as a bit deep when I read it back? Did I write that?

As I was hauling my elephantine-stomached body from the c1966 recliner, I diverted to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket).

The evacuation was a reversal of those of the last three days. Gone were the torrents and splash-backing, to be replaced with pathetic, painful, having to be forced tinkling… and yet a wide spray was produced!

To my benefit, for the first time in a few days, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had not been bleeding! Emptied, cleaned and disinfected the bucket. Made a brew of JS Extra Strong tea and got onto the computer.

Which initially prevented me from loading the photographs yet again. It must have cost me two hours to get it to accept them! Bet it’ll be a kerfuffle trying to get some on later! I just wish I knew how I’d done it.

I went to make a Glengettie brew, and I did my bestest to get some shots of the twinkling lights of the early morning view from the kitchenette. But none of the three images looked right to me.

I found this confusing. Bearing in mind my eyes cataracts, glaucoma and saccades, how come I saw the view better than the Canon camera did? Or am I missing something thanks to Doreen here?

This last one was so pretty with no clouds on the horizon, and the lights were not strong enough to bother Cataract Kathleen. Yet they didn’t show up well at all?

I got the photos on the computer, and I started prepping Josies’ meal. Got some potatoes cubed and opened the tin of peas ready in advance. Too early to put any heat on. Just in case I forget.

Back to the computer, and I got this from last night on here. It was much better tasting than I thought it might be for a vegetarian nosh. Taste Rating: 8/10! Better late than never.

Did some Faffling about on the computer for an hour or two. Went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana; this time, I’ve not had any for a while.

I got Josie’s saucepan on low heat and stirred in the sliced water chestnuts. Got out more things that would be needed for the meal and put the teats all together in the fridge so I’d hopefully not forget anything when it came to putting my toque on. Haha! Cleaned the mess I’d made in the kitchen and went back to the computer…

It’s flabbergasting how little progress I’m made with the blog updating after several hours.

Herbert launched into his weekend symphony of clattering s and banging. And I was summoned to the wet room…

Blimus! It was easier than yesterday! No joking, although I did find it humorous what took place. The innards indicated that the evacuation was going to take a while, and the torpedo was going to be a hard one.

Got the crossword book out and got into it on puzzle 122. There were just two more clues to do… and I got one of them, and being as I’d been failing to finish this one. Huh!

I cheated on the last one, making cheats for this grid only two! Then it dawned on me that the evacuation was all done! I was so deep into the puzzling and didn’t realise! No pain, no blood either! Washed up, got a new jumper on, and felt boosted by that evacuations. I’m surprised, of course, but I think finishing crossword number 122 after several months helped. Hahaha!

The Carer arrived and got me sorted out. Finally, I got the Ode blog posted, then the Diary one.

Today the Blood Pressure SYS was still high, but far less than yesterday. The Pulse was okay. Also, the DIA was down too.

My body temperature was much higher at last, at 34.9°c. Good!

Did Facebooking, WP Comments. WP Reader. Then searched for copy & paste icons but found none I wanted.

Went to make Josie’s nosh served up and sorted on the tray. The kitchen clock told me I needed to get a move on to be done in time.

My wristwatch told me I had plenty of time. I checked on the computer. The kitchen clock had gained fifteen minutes?

Mr Pleasantness is giving it some hammer today.

The computer card reader is not working at all now. This could be the end of photographing for poor, sad, Inchcock on this computer?

Evening Carer arrived, Anne or Ann. Lovely lady.

Sweet Morpheus denied me nodding off for hours. Humph!

Darned Sundays!

Inchcock Today: Alto-Ego’s Confessions In Ode

Sunday 3rd April 2020

Inchcock’s Confessions In Ode

Written By Alto-Ego Inchie!

Ode to this blogger, he’s a harmless old bugger,
With an awareness of life that gets floppier,
A self-hatred that grows and gets klutzier,
And a body, getting ever fleshier and wobblier!
A memory that is no longer a memory…
A brain that adopts ideas much loonier!

A cancerous bladder, getting ever leakier!
A sex drive that gets measlier and measlier…
Dead as a dodo, really; even his memories are foggier!
Bending downs is not easy; now he’s got paunchier,
He could do with a hearing-aids amplifier…
Today, his many wee-wees were a lot splashier?

His sanity and logic are much less secure…
His cataract and glaucoma eyes, his to endure,
No signs yet of any operations, that’s for sure!
He doesn’t believe he’ll live long enough for a cure…
He’s searched to find someone he can nouriture…
But he’s given up now; why? He’s not sure…

Mind you, he’s not looking to arrive at his cloture…
That’ll have to wait a bit, his final sepulture!
For a while, at least, though, life gets squalider…
Inchcock’s never been tops or an orchestrator…
Although he was once a bus conductor…
There’s one thing that would give him pleasure!

This’s important to him… before his foreclosure,
He doesn’t want to be richer or shrewder…
But summat, that goes against his very being & culture…
Not experienced before, it will put him in rapture!
To get something right, just once – before his departure!


Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh-In-Ode Series

Inchcock Today: Diary Friday 1st April 2022

Friday 1st April 2022

Morning Ode

Mankind, indeed all tellurians are in a schemozzle…
Humans can kill if they’re overcharged for Chipotle,
Fish stocks are dwindling, mot in good fettle…
Putin attacks Ukraine… not very subtle…
Who can stop him? No one’s got the bottle,
Nor the capability, no military muscle…
This is not just an unneighbourly tussle!
On the brink of the final world war… hopes frizzle…
The outcome will have no one to dazzle…
Hell, for Putin, would be no one left to go shooting!

Except for his own countrymen, that was tried by Stalin!
It made the world scared of Russia, of even talking…
As Putin eyes up the world with its Nations tottering…
From Putin, there’s no schnorring or flimflamming…
Civilians in the Ukraine, Russia, Putin is killing…
For Europe he’ll is surely intent… he’s coming!
The West isn’t thinking, it’s farting about tinkering…
What Vodka should our politicians be drinking?
As our economies dwindle, rapidly shrinking…
When will it come? That’s what I’m thinking…
Can no one else see it? That’s staggering!

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

04:30hrs: Up for a wee-wee, a nasty sprinkling all over one. I had to get the jammies in soak afterwards, with liquid Dettol disinfectant. Got a wah and made a brew of Glengettie.

Onto the computer to finalise yesterday’s blog. It took me six hours to get it done! A hard mental slog, hindered, mainly by Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Shaking Shaun. All in force with Dementia Doreen, the brain was a little lackadaisical, to say the least. I was getting angrier with myself every time a cock-up was made or missed.

Carer Richard arrived and sorted the medications and he took the washing and waste bags with him as he departed.

Mr Kind upstairs kicked of, but thankfully, not all day. After finishing the Wed-Thur blog, I did the ablutions and Porcelain Throne Rock hard again!, and made a brew of Glengettie…

Crap! The card reader had let me get the last posts’ pictures on. But now, it was now refusing to recognise the same car reader it had earlier in the morning! So, no point in me taking any more photos until I can use them! Gragnangles! I lost even more hours in failed attempts to get the bloody thing to work.

As of 16;20hrs, I’d had no luck at all.

Started again.

I gave up and started to make a meal. Boy was I pissed off! I turned everything off, to try again to get photos on later. Harrumph!

Carer Cheeky Charley arrived and got the medications sorted out.

Sweet Morpheus was very reluctant!

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!