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Waking up, I was tremendously resistant to the thought of trying the computer.
As I took off 
night bag, I was not concerned about anything other than ‘Will the computer work?’ After yesterday’s performance with the mystery ‘Process thingummybob’ for eleven hours, I felt it might be the end for the Bang & Olufsen. My heart was not in what I was doing, and I feared the worst. I was resisting any activity apart from removing the night bag. However, the need for the 
was getting urgent, and the bubbling and grumbling from 
ruled innards forced me into action… reluctantly.
Deserved a ‘Medal-of-Muckiness’. Splattery, phooey, sloppy, and the last lb of it did not want to evacuate.
So 15-20 minutes passing and cleaning up was followed by ten minutes fetching and carrying water from the kitsch to the bathroom, three trips needed.
Got the waste bags sorted out, the computer was about to be put on, and the Carer arrived. Got me medicated, and as she left, it was back to the for me! Not so messy, but three trips, well six come think of it, were needed. This time, BPB 
kicked off Summat rotten and has been a bother ever since up to now. Then, believe it or not, the 
started on me! Then I found that poor Little Inchies 
. And I had to find out if the computer worked yet – that bothered me more than anything else.
The computer started, looking good, then the risk of going onto Firefox. Dang gang, dwang,,, Dwang! I got the browser on, and nothing was opening… was it Firefox or the Internet. A quick look at the Liberty-Global Virgin box revealed that it was indeed due to the $26 million a year plus guaranteed bonus’s boss of Liberty-Global, Mr Fries, inability to send a signal to Nottingham that had caused my current dilemma.
Well, fancy that, Liberty-Global Internet going down. It’s not done it since yesterday as well! Utter (overcharging) Rubbish! Still, the oligarch is good-looking. Jealous? Me? Yes!
I made the first brew of Glengettie of the day while awaiting Liberty-Global to reinstate the overcharged-for-crap service to the flats.
I was surprised at how dark it still was when I took this snap of the view through the kitchenette window.
$26 million a year plus guaranteed bonus Mr Fries, Liberty-Global service had not yet returned.
Not that I was too bothered, I had to visit the for the third time. 6 more trips with the water and BPB is even more painful!
Aha, Mr Fries, $26 million a year plus a guaranteed bonus paid, the boss of Liberty-Global – Virgin Media had got the signal working again. Well done to that number-crunching oligarch! Hehehe! I’d just taken these blue photos. The mist is not clearing yet.
FINGERS CROSSED – I OPENED FIREFOX!
Yee Gawd, it seems to be working again?.
.
Sister Jane rang me. The line was breaking up badly, and I was struggling to catch most of what she said. Then the next Carer rang the bell.
I pressed on and got the Friday bl… no, Saturday blog finished, not much in it, but there you are. I can thank the oligarchical Liberty-Global’s Mr Fries for that.
Cor, Blimey! A fourth trip to the flipping . And naturally, 6 trips to and from the kitchen to fetch water for the W.C. tank. Worst of all, BPB
was so persistent with her agony giving twinges!
I wonder if last night’s vegetable soup with added seasonings might be the reason for my messy, sickly, repetitive marathons?
I didn’t take any photos of it cause I thought I’d be without a computer this morning.
Got the Health Checks sorted and a graph made in the new Enforced upon me CorelDraw. I’m still and will be until 
, 
and 
have been repaired… as I mentioned yesterday… if I live long enough.
The Wee-wee Mystery
Hello, the wee-wee has started to rapidly flow…
And yet all day yesterday, it was so slow!
And I’d drank Spring water, 3L or so…
Today my guzzling rate was far below?
I reckon I’ve already passed a kilo…
Coming more often suddenly…
Will I ever again get to see…
Me taking a manual wee-wee?
Hehehe!
I went to the kitchen to see if I could plan a salvage operation on what was left of last night’s nosh in the saucepan. After a bit of ponderisationing, I made my mind up.
I added a tin of cheapo tomatoes to the stick mess, tasted it cold, and added some liquid sea salt to it. Then popped the last of the vegan min-sausages in… then gave them a good stir. I can heat them up later, with the last of the terribly bland; I’ll never repurchase them from Asda, mortgage-needing priced sourdough rolls.
I had a blast on the computerisationing.
But I didn’t get very far with my blogging. Why? I’ll tell yers…
Yet another call from the innards to the !
came in support of BPB , they mutually got at me, without mercy, after fetching the water in agony from the kitchen to refill the not working W.C. tank, yet again! I know I shouldn’t, but I took two Impofrufen Extras. But did not take any Paracetamol when the Carer arrived. I went back on with blogging but realised the semi-final twixt Manchester United and Brighton was on the box; thus, I made more and more mistakes, and my eyes worsened as I got tired… Poor old thing!
Ah, Extra-Time to be played. That’s put the kybosh on me getting some blogging done!
It’s no good, I sat here doing nothing physical, and the pains from the two ailments are still so bad. I risked taking another Codeine; I hope it helps with the gals, BPB and 
… Please!
Watching the extra time of the match… and I smelt burning! Arrgh!
I hobbled rapidlyish to the kitchenette to find I’d left the heat on under the saucepan. An awful lot of the sausages had split open. Not that it matters, I suppose.
Back at the end of the match and trying to concentrate on this blog. Not a cat in hell’s chance, of course.
I gave up on the blog and watched what little was left of the match. Then went to see if any decent shots were available of the sun going down. Too early yet.
So I got the heat under the pan, slowly warmed up the food, and served it. Two rolls of bread and a mini-pot of dessert. Not too bad at all. Gave this one a Taste Rating of 7/10. The Carer called when I was eating it.
Added the night pouch too 
, and slipped me a couple of Paracetamols.
Washed the pots and took these shots of the amazing sky over the next half-hour or so.
Bootiful!
High, but on her way down…
The last fullish blest of her heat…
All but hidden now. Gorgeous!
A last quick peek
♥ Au revoir ♥
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The Internet’s obscurity, uncertainty and ambiguity…
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Thanks to Firefox, the computer, Doreen Dementia, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Shaking-Shoulder=Shirley and/or Colin Cramps; or any variation of the above, highly possibly, all of them!.
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agony that followed it.
I had a 
, and cringed, whinged and moaned a little to myself.
The wee-wee in the night bag was a very good colour, although there was not an awful lot of it? 
Got the computer on, and the first Carer called. A little natter after she’d serviced me. Back to the blogging for yesterday that had not been done yet. It’s gonna be a long day again! 
I got a call from the Haematology nurse, Kristina. She is going to call on me Monday, twixt 9-10am. Lovely to hear from her. First time in about nine weeks now. ♥
done. 
A better taste this time. (It’s about time too!) Not been very successful with
was patient and sorted the medications out. I told him that the INR DVT Warfarin nurse had called and is coming to take a blood sample on Monday. He seemed pleased for me, knowing as he did that no one had been for eight-weeks now. He shot off so that I could eat the meal, bless him.
kicked-off! After a while, I gave up, got up and was glad I did, for the 
Warm colours.
Grand!
visited. They seemed to be having a discussion and not including me this time? The oddest thing, feeling, sensation that I’ve had in a long time. 
was still resistant.
, and seeing that it was 02:00hrs.
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My Hero, Spike Milligan, who I had the pleasure
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A decent colouration of urine.
Aargh! Blood Pressure is up high!
Got the potatoes into the crock-pot.
Zoomed-in; See the face?
Sunsetting
Bootiful!
The sky had changed to an unusual shade?
But it didn’t taste good at all!
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Emptied the pouch.
Ablutionalisationings were done and onto the computer.
No wonder I was struggling on the computer.
After she pointed it out to me that it wasn’t a tank or smashed car accident, but the trees and shadows, I did feel a clot! Eventually, with the aid of the magnifying glass, I saw what she described.
I think I was putting the loose lens cap back on the camera.
Mid-afternoon, I dragged myself away from the cock-up I’d made on CorelDraw yesterday and had to replace the missing dockers and icons.
Just before the tea, Carer called; I took these two shots of the blinding sun straight at me. I had to close my right eye so couldn’t see what they looked like. The sun’s strong light was reflecting on everything shiny out there.
While pottering with cooking and salvaging some mushrooms for half an hour, I took these pictures about five minutes from the one before.
Well, alright, I lied! But I was still so tired, but on the bright side, 
had replaced her. Oh… and I kid you, not here… my 
.
I enjoyed that. It may not have been a gourmet meal, haute, or nouvelle cuisine, but it satisfied my proletariat level of epicureanism.
and 
, The damnable 
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. The evacuation was swift and, for once, not splattery or overly messy. Only 
, was reaching an 8 on the pain scale meter. Lugging the bowls of water from the kitchen to refill the non-working WC tank three times each flush… well, it’s some exercise, innit?
Pottered about making up and sorting the waste bags for collection. And the morning Carer arrived. I took the tablets,
was here, the Asda order arrived.
Shaquille helped to carry them through the kitchenette with me.
And tons of canned peas and various other vegetables.
Around 13:00hrs, I heard the mobile tone ringing.
Then realised I’d left the hot water tap running.
There are depressions and depressions of differing characteristics – I nearly went into each one!
And had a few minutes of pareidolia joy.
I prepared and dined on the vegetable (it-came-out-horrible) soup, with rolls and a mistaken thought it would be delicious plain yoghourt with a pot of orange jelly in it. The Carer arrived as I was tucking into it – no, that’s not the right word; tucking in suggests that someone was enjoying something. 
And yet, I ate it all? 
. Even the jelly & yoghourt was tasteless. The Carer gave me a Covid Test yesterday, and it was clear. Taste rating: 2.5/10!
I had to get up to empty the day pouch of its contents and wash & disinfect the container.
containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner. I nodded off quickly for around about ten minutes. But the damned rotten 
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Ablutions went fine.
Looking a little threatening?
No complaints about the ulcers or ankles.
I foolishly allowed myself to cheer up.
Got on the computer and was doing alright.. until…
I was in the middle of a good run of concentration. With CorelDraw at the limit of its memory, I was doing so well… and got an earlier start… life was for once perking up – Gragknangles! 
a few times, Carer, and domestic calling.
At least the pallet colours were got back again. But not the cockers; they had to be rebuilt form scratch. I’m tired out, hungry, and would you believe that 
Afternoon shots.
Teatime piccies.
After the second-last caller came.
Sunset
Carer’s desk, after the last day Call.
, who gave me a painkiller.
Taste rating: 803/10.
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AND
PAINS VIRTUALLY NONE STOP!
I grumphed, cursed, and reached for the packet of Ipobrufen on the ottoman, and took one with a swig of spring water, which I misaimed putting it back on the tray. 
were in total control. What a splattering mess! As if I didn’t have enough to do fetching the water to refill the damned tank again, as it was! 
I was pleased when the carer arrived, and I got a Codeine down me with two paracetamols. 
I went back to try Firefox again. The computer froze; I could do nothing with it as this screen came up! Apparently, Firefox needed reinstalling with the original password – They must be joking? Then I got a patch job offer and clicked on that
I was totally lost now, getting confused between which one I should be on and what I’d changed or done. The free processor was on the main page now, but when I clicked it, a new browser came up without any of my programme icons on it, and when I opened the now-closed by itself browser, the I.T. browser closed itself? You know, with anguish, fears and pain, I think of death as a release. Bet there are lots of folks like that. We should start a self-help group. NO! Better not, though, because it’s bound to be on the web, innit? No, forget I said that!
in the last hour, but I think 
! When I mentioned 
something getting better, I smelt the vegan imitation meat in the oven burning! 
! 
. I just felt pissed off, basically!
Better get something to eat with the rhino-leathered soy slices from the oven, then.
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But the wee-wee colour is betterer!
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, that evacuation was over about five seconds after I’d sat down. But the sense of another one was 
on the way, made me stay where I was and had a go at the crossword book. While doing this, and rather successful for once, blood from Little Inchie was felt running down my leg. So I abandoned the crossword and cleaned it up; there was only a spot or two left to come, then back to the puzzling. 
ever-present since. The painkillers were week used today! 
and 
The afternoon brought storm-threatening darkness. 
I made an error… (What am I saying? I’m always making errors)… with the daily meal. But it didn’t matter as it happens. I overcooked the vegan burgers, uneatable! But, me having the Natorra black tomatoes on the plate; They taste like meat to me? Lovely!
The ready-sliced potatoes (I thought after yesterday’s [photo on the left] Accifauxpas while slicing fresh potatoes were a good idea) Were very nice and crispy. Even the pickled beetroots were nice and well cooked, soft and kind to what few teggies I have left. I shan’t get any more of those burgers
.
leg slipped off of the chair, and that woke me up, so I knew I was still here when the pain and shock woke me out of my wallowing. But, putting getting back into the land of nod into a no-go area! Humph!
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in the right knee. Had anyone come in, they would have seen a limping, water-spilling old man concentrating so hard not to drop the bowl; I had had my tongue out!
My Sherlock Holmesian mind tweaked into action… (It does that sometimes, you know) Not often, I admit!
ruled the roost.
The Carer arrived. Medications sorted. Can’t recall what about now, but we had a little chin-wag.
working recliner. Aha! I think I remember a bit of the chin-wag I had/
type correctly and make so many mistakes?
The lemon curd mini jam rolls are Very nice looking) were three times the price of the Asda raspberry ones; however, they did have some sort of thickish flavouring on the outside of each roll. I’ll try one later on. Custard creams, vegan mini sausages and some Spanish strawberries, When I’d recovered from getting them into the kitchen and put them away, I took a punnet of strawberries and a can of gin for Josie to have.
Then got my nosh started. Ate it; taste: 6/10. And nodded off, leaving the tray on the ottoman. Into a deep dream-filled sleep. Aha, off in the land of nod.