Saturday 25th January 2020
Afrikaans: Saterdag 25 Januarie 2020
23:55hrs: Another flipping disturbed sleep. The constant dreams! It peeves me so that I cannot recall much of them. Other than they all involved my working days happenings, cock-ups, mistakes etc. were relived, but with a different outcome… I think. When I had to get up (yet again) to go for a wee-wee, (They were all of the LHNPOS (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Pain-Or-Sensation) variety, I decided I might as well stay up.
“Morpheus, sweet Morphius, please return to me – Please! I’ll be moaning in three or four days, about me falling asleep on the bus or Throne! Hehehe!
I got the stick and went to the kitchen, to take the medications and make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea.
Then I opened the Amazon bag and got the new coat out to try it for size. It was supposed to be XXL but was just a bit tight. When I saw the ‘Made in China’ label, this explained things a bit. I took off the hood, so I could keep it somewhere that I will not remember when I need it. Phwerp! It was lovely and warm, with six pockets for me to lose things in.
Most importantly and the reason I paid so much for it, it was long enough to cover-up the signs on my wearing the PP’s. The main worry was the delicate but stiff working zip, fingers crossed on that! I put it on a hangar, in the hope that the creases from it being wrapped tightly and squashed in transit, might fall out.
With no demand for the Porcelain Throne yet, I got on the computer, no point in going to have a wash and disturb the neighbours at this ridiculous hour. I started to update the Friday blog. During which, I got the hiccups for about an hour and a half. Why though, I just don’t know.
But I did recognise, that Arthur Itis, after yesterdays bad sessions, was all calm again? But there were tweaks of movement from the Peripheral Neuropathic right side leg. I felt sure that a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing session was soon to affect me, even my EQ warned me If I read him correctly – their’s no words, just emotion like feeling from him. I can’t understand or learn from him a lot of the time, but he’s rarely wrong). Bonkers? Me?
Later, the shoulder and arm-shaking started, but the finger-ends neurotransmitters were not too bad at the moment. The wee-wees all the same type, have been regular. I might have got a Furesomide taken by mistake for a Codeine 30g or Beta-blocker, with all three of them looking the same clour, size and shape, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store).
This is why, about 4-5 weeks ago, Nurse Leoni (Medicines Management Team) phoned Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store) pharmacy for me. Told them not to put the Furesomides in the blister-pack, because they are taken on an as-needed, ad-hoc basis.
But, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store) who assured Leoni they would in future be sent in packets, failed miserably and dispatched them in the blisters again. This should have annoyed me, well, it did at the time. But I couldn’t get too worked up about it, because Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store) delivered my medications five days late last month, and I had no Furesomides, Beta-blockers or Codeine to counter the pain I was in for those five days.
No apologies from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, (Near the Lidl Store). And to think, that ‘Yell’ (Yellow Pages) on the web, class them as one of the top three chemists in Nottingham! Astounding in the extreme, Troppo!
There must be some dangwangling, ‘Not-exactly-fair’ business practices going on here?
I began this post off. Then went to open the Crock-pot box. It was ginormous! Far too big for me to use. A family size one, for sure.
I had a proper struggle to get it out of the box. I then pondered on who to give it to. I’ll have to buy a smaller one.
I put the cooker on the kitchen-top. As you see by the picture, it ain’t gonna fit! It will have to squash things to get it in under the wall cupboard, and the heat of five or six hours simmering is going to be too dangerous for me. Nope, disappointing as it is, I will not risk using it. Tsk! It’ll have to go!
A proper shame that. I was going to do some mushrooms and tomatoes. But on a closer look at the Dutch tom’s, they were all seeping, with skins cracked and black spots coming up to the surface on them! Well, EQ did warn me! So it didn’t matter as much, now. But my idiocy still wrangled me!
I went all coy and ashamed. Suddenly badly depressed. I didn’t know whether to cry, commit hari-kari, lambast my own stupidity in not checking when I bought the slow-cooker, or just sob for a bit! Tsk! What a pathetic, stupid nayfish I am. Oy-oy-oy! Goodnight! As my spirits sank, a massive, moody moroseness, of mammoth-magnitude, made me melancholy and sulky!
As I began to go on the TFZer Facebooking… Oh, crap!
More time lost! I’d been up and about for eight-hours. And with no sleep, and the hassle with the cooker-cock-up I’d made, and now the internet, and still having some graphics to make up, downhearted and a lack of interest came over me.
When it came back on, the internet was very slow and kept having freezing moments. Which took the pleasure away from my TFZing!But I spent many hours on CorelDraw doing a couple of templates in readiness, a slog!
Feeling rough now. But hungry, which is not to be unexpected (that’s not grammatically correct is it? Or is it?), with not eating last night. Chilli-Beans with black bean sauce, pork slices and some bacon. And few slices of slightly stale Milk Roll bread.
While I was preparing the meal, as the brain drifting off into a meandering, thought-Storm of confusion, the ET came into communication with me. His message was short and sharp. “Expect a shock, soon!” But being as I am always doing this, as a natural part of by resilience building, Huh! I ignored him.
I got the nosh finished, served up, and tucked into. The black bean sauce weakened the chilli flavour, which suited me down to the ground. I blame Morrison’s, for substituting my curry beans with the Chilli ones!
A flavour rating of 7.2/10 was granted.
After eating, I decided I had better get the washing up done. Maybe to assuage my guilt with the Crock-Pot farce? When the pot-cleaning was done, I lifted the bowl to tip out the water so as to wipe it dry… Within seconds I had, soapy wet jammies and socks, the cabinets had running suds down them, the floor was awash, and all due to an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance from the right leg! To add to the misery, I kicked the four-pronged walking stick over, and the handle part fell on my left foot corn! Somehow, I knew that this incident was not what EQ was warning me about! That is to be revealed, yet, if at all.
I cleaned everything up (I think), and changed the jammie-bottoms with my other pair, and hun the old ones to dry. Then, my enthusiasm, will-power and energy drained, I got settled very early into the £300, second-hand, cringingly beige-coloured recliner. Although I was sure I would not be able to stay awake to watch it, I still put on DVD, ‘Hello I’m Alan Partridge’ Well fatigued, I drifted of within minutes.
After another dream involving my past failures and embarrassments, and I can recall bits of this. I put (in the daymare) “I shall not disclose these events, they were private and of a nature that was not revealable to avoid more embarrassment for me” The internet went crazy with people for all over the world demanding I tell all? I can’t recall, but I’m sure I did not do so. Hehe! Worra lucid, real-feeling dream!
I woke up and wrote some scribbled notes about the dream on my pad. Then, looked at the clock, it showed 3:30, for a while I thought it was in the morning, and I’d slept for over 12 hours! A moment or to later I acclimatised my brain (as much as is possible) and realised I had only been akip for two hours, and it was the afternoon. The day being so dark fooled me. (A searched for excuse, Haha!)
Then I saw that the DVD was still playing, (Or I’d hit the remote that lay between my legs and turned it back on) so turned it off, and considered getting up to do the handwashing. But nodded off again, and this time it was for nine-hours or so! I woke at midnight!
The Throne session was not a good one. Massive, slow and messy with a surprising amount of discomfort. At least it gave me a chance to have a go at the crossword. It was painful when I stood up after so long sat with bent knees. Arthur Itis wasn’t happy about it at all. I recalled bits of a horrible dream I’d had, a bully of a shop manager kept throwing me out, and threatening me with the sack?
A clean-up, and off to the kitchen. I got the kettle on and took the medications. 
The fingers were tingling and a tad annoying. 
And then… I only need the Porcelain Throne again! Arthur Itis is now as mad as he has ever been with me. This is not good! And I have to keep getting up for a wee-wee! They were all, up to now, of the PLSE (Persistent-Long-Spraying-Everywhere) style! Which some else to fret about, I just cannot control the evacuations at all. Just keep kitchen towels and disinfectant nearby to use, and a tube of Phorpain gel 
for Arthur’s knees. I think it’s fair to say, a modicum of depression is building up! The pins (legs) looked the same pot-mark-wise as earlier, but they seem to be getting a smidge more colour? Just a couple of more blood-papules. I’ll recheck them after the ablutions are done, this is a rarity! Hahaha! 
I had to absquatulate for a wee-wee, this was a bit different, of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painful) style. I got the grey bucket emptied, rinsed and sanitised, and decided to get the handwashing done. Going to be a slow job getting the jammie-bottoms dry. The socks and long-sleeve t-shirt will be okay, being thinner.
I took the black, and recycling bags down to Caretaker Stewart room. We shared some Rabelaisian humour, handed over the nibbles, and then returned to the flat, and checked to see how far on the Tracker had gone. Perhaps he’s having his dinner? The driver who is taking it to the dispatch place, I wonder where that is? Bit it is still hours away from there, then someone has to come to Nottingham with the stuff. It’s going to be hard to stay awake. Oh, dearie me! Dangwangles and damn!
his work. Ahem! 
bigger) leg.
–
Off to the wet room. A messy affair in the extreme, a struggle to get started, a lot of product, pain and some bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. But I’ve had worse, so coped well. 
I got back to the kitchen and checked the spuds and mushrooms, and put them on the keep warm setting.
Got the nosh sorted. Another changed decision. I had the chicken thighs I’d nearly forgotten about. Not a bad meal, but I was too tired to appreciate it fully. Flavour-rating; 6/10. 
. Well, no TV tonight then. I tried the radio channels, but they were cracking mumblings or broken singing/music. Ah-well! 
22:25hrs: I stirred, in somewhat of a bit of a puddled state. I thought I had only been asleep for a few minutes, I got the spectacles on and found I’d kipped for about four hours or so. I withdrew my excessively overweight, lardy-stomached body from the £300, grotty, second-hand, c1968 recliner. 
I grabbed the walking stick, and within three paces on my journey to the Porcelain Throne, I stubbed my toe on the hearth of the electric fire! As I was busy absorbing the pain and trying not to swear out loud, the ‘Hum’ became more and more noticeable and loud! Grangle-Grumps and Hoggledruids! That put an end to my plan to get my head back down after the evacuation, I was physically more awake now, at least! Haha!
I put the kettle on and moved the handwashing to above the heater. Then I realised I’d not taken the evening medications. So I did. 
a physical impossibility for someone of my plump stature, lack-of-height, physical limitations, ailments and old age, and I cannot get to see out and down, through these hideously-designed windows, like the old ones that we were happy with. That was before the two-year plus, two-million pound plus modernisation. That has left me with dangerous electrical sockets. Ruined carpets. New storage heaters Einstein would not understand how to use! That crumbling new balcony that the glass fogs up to block the view, windows in it that need a masters degree, the strength of Goliath and a first-aid-box at the ready before I dare try to open them! Hello, I wandered of the subject again. Sorry! 
Meeting up with Jenny ♥ and Frank, Doris, Margaret, Christine, Betty, Penny, Welsh William (who ignored me in his usual casual, but expert fashion), and some other Winwoodonians. We moved out to the bus stop, and much laughter, accusations, griping, verbal-sniping, insults, gossiping, put-downs, argle-bargle, and putting the world to rights was done and I enjoyed hearing it all. By gum, some days like today, it is a pleasure and honour to listen to the gang when they are in full verbalistical flow. I love it! 
annoyance at me. She gave me a card and stapled the time and date to it. Telling me that if I can’t get at that time, I’ve to ring ASAP the number on the card and inform them. I thanked her. 
I then spotted the piece of Nottinghamnian Street Art, beneath the cashpoint (ATM). Possibly an Alcoholic inspired display of an overrated takeaway meal? Tsk!
was nice to see him after so long. The girls at the flats have certainly missed him. This photo was taken a few years ago. In the temporary social and wardens cabin. Happy times, but it makes me realise how much I missed seeing Jenny and Cyndy every week. Hehe! We don’t go to the new Thursday social now. I wandered off the subject a bit there! John said he’d call on me later on. But he said that fourteen months ago when I met him in Carrington. It doesn’t matter though, he’s a popular and busy bloke, who’s helped me out so many times in the past. 
I popped into the shop, with the help again of Big John, who held the door open for me to get the three-wheeled walker-guide through the narrow doorway, bless him. 
Out and made my way up to the bus stop, across the pelican lights to the top of the hill. I have to say; I was in much better condition by then. The only ailment still giving me bother Dizzy Dennis, but, nowhere near as bad as earlier, hardly bothering me really, but the fact that he was still there, boded poorly for the evening. He is usually in the face or no there at all; he doesn’t often hang on like this. But hey-ho, I can cope with it if he doesn’t start spinning me. Like Prince Andrew, No sweat! Humorous, biting sarcasm sneaked in there! Hahaha! 
I got in the apartment and tried to concentrate the mind on what needed doing. The first thing was, I got the computer on and added the Banks appointment to the calendar. No excuse to miss it now! 
What an ambrosial feast! 
I stayed in the chair, wallowing in a sort of satisfied, happy stomached self-contentedness for ages, then forced myself to go and get the pots washed. 
I got the medications taken, pleased to see that I had not missed last evenings doses. Humph! And what an unreliable memoried Shlub I am! As usual, the ‘Hum’ was loud, with the odd tap-tap and gurgling noise. (Thrown in every now and then, up until 0500hrs?) Why, where from, what was making these noises, remains part of the mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court, that lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, offering illusions, delusions, & hallucinations. Exasperated sigh! I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, no sooner made, than the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off to the wet-room, I shuffled, and still feeling in good nick, physically. 
I eventually got the blog done and posted off. I made another brew, this time Glenghetti, and ‘blow-me-down-with-a-feather-duster’, I needed the Throne again! All went well as the first visit did. I had time to check-out the pins (legs) and took a photo. Apart from being different sizes to each other again, they looked good to me, apart from the veins.
I had a look outside and photographed what looked like smoke from a fire in the dark. I took regular pictures for the next few hours of the City Hospital and area smoke. I’ve put them all here o the right, earliest shots down to the last one. 
Aha! The intercom rang and flashed. 
I never got around to doing any graphics in the end. Too drained now. I put the handwashing in the bowl to soak and got a meal prepared. 
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung. 
I fumbled to find Little Inchy (it was cold this morning, so much so, I put the wall heater on in the wet room!), and spent a few minutes painfully releasing the long, drawn-out trickle! At last, it decided to stop! What’s going on here then? The entire wee-wee would have only filled a teacup if that! Yet, the sensation felt was one that things were going to burst forth like fireman’s hose. Ah, well!
I got everything cleaned and medicated, checked out the legs. They had undoubtedly lost a lot of colour and were getting back to their usual ‘Am-I-alive’ thought-prompting paleness. One leg, the left, seemed even whiter than the right one? The lumps, blotches, blood papules etc. had dissipated somewhat? Still, it makes for a bit of interest, doesn’t it?
I made up a photo, to show how I must have looked after I somehow or other, got the wet dressing gown to fall on me off of the coat-hangar it was drying on! I used it in the Sunday blog, but I show it again. 
Had to have a nibble and brew. I’ll have a hunt around, see worra can find… 
After the farewells and they had gone, and my balance had returned, I went to have a look at the work they’d done for me. 
I got off the bus at the terminus on Queen Street. Still feeling a bit high in spirits. (Yes, it worried me as well!) 
I paid at the self-serve tills. They were busy for a Monday, and the ‘Impatient stares’, Tut-tutting and grinding teeth from those behind me in the queue could be sensed, as I fumbled a bit. 
A lady assistant came to me in the end and whipped the last things through for me. Out and had a walk on the Slab Square. This gathering flock of pigeons. I could not see any food on the ground around them, though? The white ones could hardly be identified with the sunshine glinting 
on the settled rainwater.
Nottinghamians, that there was little smiling! 
s morning. 
I got distracted there again, sorry about that. 
I made my way up Queen Street, showing the long shadows of the citizenry in this snap. 
We were soon back at the flats, and I walked with Penny back through the link-passage to Woodthorpe Court, having a little chinwag en route. 
Got the meal planned, then I shifted the Morrison bananas from last week, from the cool spot to a warmer one. For they were still green! 
I got some chips into the oven, the last of the Kentucky coated ones. 
Then moved some things back into the cupboard under the sink. 
Then got the meal served up. The BLT Poundland sarnie and cut up a mini pork pie and added caramelised onion chutney, beetroots and some BBQ thingies on cocktail sticks. 
I got going on a funny ode that came to mind from nowhere. The incident dates back a few months. I was in town on South Parade, the rain took a nasty turn for the worse, and the heavens opened. I joined some others under the cover of the Starbucks coffee shop doorway. I was asked to move as my trolley was blocking peoples access, so, no problem, I hobbled away into the rain. I got the task done, with doing the graphics, it took me over three hours to get it something like right.
I started the Back-Pain-Brenda annoying task of emptying out the shelves under the sink, in readiness for tomorrows visit from the Nottingham City Homes plumber. But didn’t get very far, for two reasons, the agony from Brenda, and the clump on the chin I’d given myself bending down to get to the cleaning stuff! Hahaha, what a clot! 
Josie’s nosh was served up, and the dishes put in the sink to soak. Making the red Leicester cheesy-mashed-potatoes don’t-half make a mess of the mixing bowl, fork and spoon used! Onto the wheeled server, and out of the door, two paces and I was ringing her bells. (Hehehe!) We had a little natter, and she handed me a tray of leaf-salad, as a thank you.
The plastic and metal new ticker fitted. Duodenal Donald. Cancer of the bladder and prostate. Reflux Roger. Kidney Kevin. Arthur Itis. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Saccades Sandra, then the stroke; 
As I got in the foyer, I spotted that someone had been ornamentalisationing! A bit of decoration for us! I made sure that I did not go near the edge of the ledge, cut of but not painted shelf and pottery. 
over and broken! Tsk! Very pretty and easy on the eye, I thought. 
I took the medications, with an extra Codeine 30g, to counter Brenda’s bother. And reviewed the fodder situation. I was beginning to fade fast, and opted for a simple meal of rice and garden peas, with BBQ seasoning added. Which was not scintillating, but sufficient, considering the amount of food I’ve thrown away due to making the meals too large, was more than enough. Taste-rating; 7/10. 
23:30hrs: I have never woken-up so non-plussed, discountenanced, and feeling so wish-washy before in my life! (No… I tell a fib, when I came round after the heart operation it was worse!) 
I rose from the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner. The one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. Then posted off his pools coupon and won a fortune, that complimented his £2010 grand Lottery win. He retired at 40, the windfall of being left £84,000 by an unknown relative enabled this. He’s a lucky lad. 
00:05hrs: I stirred into mock-life, looked around and saw much evidence of nocturnal-nibbling having been committed, and pondered on my hopes and dreams, fears and worries. Then thought Sod-it. Guilty-Mode Engaged! 
Then, I realised I was half-on the recliner, with the better leg hanging partly-off, and I was sitting on my left hand? After freeing the arm and hand, I found this had given me apaesthesia in the thumb and fingers. So, as I used my appendages to help raise myself out of the £300 second-hand seat, I found that I dropped back into it with a thud – and clouted my right elbow against the arm of the recliner! (Fancy that, I said?)
It was eight hours too early for me to use the hoover to clean up, I thought, not that I was bothered about it. I got the kettle on, made whar will probably be the highlight of the day, a mug of Glengettie Gold tea! With the chemist leaving without tablets and medications for five days, I nearly forgot to take them. Phwert! 
No sooner had I poured out the brew, the demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room I limped, with the stick and picking up the camera on the way, to have a view of the state of the legs this morning. They had regained some colour which was a good thing, but they were yellow! 
The evacuation went okay. Sticky-messy, but little pain and no bleeding. So, fate had slipped me a teaser in there? Something to get me feeling optimistic, before the storm, perhaps? Or am I being too pessimistic? Mmm! Ah, well, I did the cleaning up, returned to fetch the now almost cold mug of tea, and got the computer on to update the Thursday blog. 
I made brew watched U-Tube while I drank it, with a few orange chocolate digestive bikkies. 
The ablutions next. And a jolly decent effort it was too! The dropsies were only about six in total. (The neurotransmitter transmissions to the brain of my synapse nerve contacting, were really the best they have been for days – of course, it didn’t last long, but was much appreciated while it lasted! [Yee-Haa!]) The sock-glide battle was injury-free! The medicating was painless, and the bleeding was to a minimum. It seemed to be going well, all foreign to me, I was a bit worried! 
I opted to get the handwashing done, to avoid the need when I got back from the shopping. My EQ told me (and it was right) that I would be too done-in and shattered to do it then! So, it was done, wrung and hung to dry. A bit like I felt, Hehehe!
Back down the same route in reverse, with a few words of self-condemnation, and thought Winwood into Winchester Court. I noticed through the window that the rain was now a lot worse. 
I hobbled along Front Street in the rain, slowly getting the clothes soaked a little more, and somehow the precipitation had found its way into my left shoe as limped along? Surely this shoe can’t be leaking? It’s only about the third time I’ve worn them from new. Knowing my luck, I wondered why I thought that!
Fulton Foods: Oh dear, they had some pull-top opening garden peas. I just had to get some. Tsk! I got some Galaxy darker-milk chocolate, and a 1litre bottle of white vinegar for cleaning. 
I had to do a bit of quick thinking then. The L9 bus was due in twenty-minutes. Asda, across the road, me wanting some Lemon Curd yoghourt, but would I get them in time to catch the bus? I hastened to the store, as the rain got a little more substantial. 
shelves, but could not see any lemon yoghourt whatsoever? No staff around to ask. I decided to leave it. But spotted they had some rather temptingly delicious-looking blood orange dark chocolate bars, so I grabbed one and made my way to the self serve tills. I paid up and shot out as fast as my little, plump, hairy legs would let me! Up the hill to the bus stop. Where, a shoulder charging, a tut-tutting gang of people were shouldering for a position under the shelter to keep out of the rain. I didn’t take part, too risky!
I made straight back to the flat. And, oddly enough, as I struggled to get the trolley through the door, the little grey lid shot off again. I think it might have to go? I detached the wire basket, emptied the trolley bag and got all the things into the kitchen. Got them all stored away, found the receipts and put them near the computer for taking details from in the morning. For I sure was too tired to be up to doing do any computerisationing now.
I put the t
I checked out the blister-packs of tablets that arrived five-days late and forcing me to miss so many doses; from Carrington Pharmacy, 
I made the brew and took this mornings dosages. Ear-holes oiled, Saccades-Sandra drops put in, etc. all done. 
I’d love to get out and about again. But today, the Morrison order, the window cleaner and a chance of Leoni coming from the NHS Medicines Team (I hope Leoni does visit, then I can tell her of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Their late prescriptions and the Furesomide not being put separately as they had promised they’d be done!) Bitter? Me? Yes! And I still want to see the Doctor, (I will ask for some Anxiolytics, tell her about the dizzies and falling over, and hopefully other stuff if I can find the list I made two months ago), and I have to see the Bank Manager. Still bitter? Me? Yes! Well, pissed-off anyway!
Another interesting event! A record amount of dropsies I think this morning. Toothbrush, toothpaste, toothbrush pot, shaving foam can (2), razors (5), 
There’s a thought, I wonder if the Tate Gallery would be interested in some photos of… No, no, No! My Delphic nature and self-confidence are at a low enough level already, thank you.
I got them unpacked and checked the things out with the list from the internet.
Something, scheme, decision, plan, or flimflam-stratagem was formulating, brewing inside my head as I put away the fodder. But the brain wasn’t letting on to me what it was! Well, that how it is when you have a high EQ and the lowest IQ. Hopefully whatever is maturing in the head, will reveal itself shortly.
I must try to do some of the smoked haddock for tonight’s nosh. I already had some normal mushrooms in the fridge, so I got them in the crock-pot cooking. I might have them with the haddock, potatoes and garden peas, perhaps. It depends on when the window cleaner arrives. 
I got to the lift lobby and was just about to press the call button, and both head-lights went out indicating the death of the elevators! Well, if that doesn’t represent my unfortunate nature, I don’t know what will. Humph! Then it dawned on me, today is the upgrading work by the Mansells Fire Sprinkler team. Ah, well! A touch of pragmatism had attached itself to me, and no-hassle or annoyance rose at all. 