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– – – Part Two – – –
This morning, I created an Ocado quasi-order,
Spent a few moments execrating Herr Starmer,
Lambasting, cursing, and trying some hexing,
That didn’t work; no news on TV of his dying,
So back to heartfelt detesting & loathing,
He’s so cantankerous, malicious and spiteful,
Hostile, averse, inimical, confoundable,
Not Prime Minister material, but he’s barristerial,
A trained liar, thus he can easily fiddle & embezzle,
Now my hex has failed, should I try alchemical?
I watched Parliament on TV. It looked adumbral,
I got a sense of phoney-baloney, agathokakological,
HMG members scowled across; matters balneal?
Some members grimaced, as if they had sat on a carbuncle,
Some, obviously bored, maybe missing their Zinfandel.
Occasionally, one stood up, to the toilet he’d wamble,
MP returned with cigar ash on his waistcoat, all casual,
Some nodded off, while the speaker soke wibble,
Taunts were made to encourage a squabble,
They woke up some MPs to join in the verbal battle,
One of them dropped his soother & rattle,
Overshouting each other, they continued to prattle…
The screamed words were largely unsubstantiable,
The shaking fists and sneers were not all discernible,
The odd one, Reform UK, I think, was not very subtle
But there are only four of them, so inappreciable,
Kemi’s failed party didn’t say a lot, understandably
After all, their total MPs are only 120, sadly!
Labour MPs outnumber them all, more sadly,
Jeremy Corbyn is setting up a new political party…
with Zarah Sultana, Left Wing, gladly…
Herr Starmer, Labour? He’s more Tory than any Tory!
Who can beat him? Electionally?
Many a voter would like to beat him physically,
For his lies, two-facedness and con-artistry,
On that list, to be fair, you can add me!
I’d love to grab him epiglottally,
For his back-hander taking, initially,
Stealing pensioners’ fuel allowance, that hurt Inchie,
Many decisions he’s taken, enacted, immorally,
Digressing, mind-changing, to save financially…
Not for the voters! But his term as PM of HMG,
On his mission to make his self more money,
More glory, more power, go down in history…
The erk who beat the Tories by becoming a Tory,
Labour’s Core Values? He shows such antipathy,
Remaining in power, claiming political diablerie,
Renationalise railways? Cut the cost of electricity?
He does not have the capacity for honesty,
From his Barrister days, you see?
Getting murderers off virtually scot-free,
He avoids the truth, purposefully…
When there’s a chance of profitability…
For himself, do you agree?
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Four visits to the
Produced only wind.
A lot of it, mind you.
I spelt Haemorrhoids wrong.
Early balcony shots through the glass.
Then the same with the kitchen.
End carpark chevron parkers
stii chevron parking. No rain again,
so no mudslide. Poor birds & squirrels
kept coming for a drink and bath,
but couldn’t get either.
Sherwood Vale.
Citrus Walk in front of the prison.
No, no, block of flats!
Flushing problem on the
third 
visit.
Gave it the best clean that I could manage.
Amazing how the stains hide. Hahaha!
Back to CorelDRAW.
Afternoon cuppa.
I obviously took this shot in error.
Possible as I was putting in or taking
out the SD card.
Community Nurse Rebecca called to tend to Lymphorrhoea Leslie’s leg wounds.
The original leak (on the left) had gone down well. But, Rebecca found a new one coming, and medicated it for me as well. (on the right). She said when the sin goes like mine, all leathery, cold men more are on the way. She will call next week to check on how they are. Bless her.
Sky Photos In, (I hope) in chronological order.
A smidge eerie so early in the afternoon.
Amazed at the new cloud types.
I Took two, thanks to 
not getting the messages to the brain that I want to let go of the ‘shoot’ button from the dying off 
and or, more likely, the brain not responding in a timely fashion; thanks to the attentions of what was Diabetic Dementia, then Cognitive Dementia, changed to Vascular Dementia, and now is 
.
This often buggers-up my plans. It’s doing it more often now, either not letting go of something or letting go of something. Unfortunately, when I’m taking photos and this happens, I frequently fill the SD card to capacity. Then, the problem is often low memory on the computer, and you have to delete them one at a time… This causes me to have to use CCleaner repeatedly, as it consumes a significant amount of memory when deleting large files. But the worst thing this costs me is time. I don’t have much time left anyway, but I want to spend it on my beloved blogging, which is so frustrating!
Then, 
means I forget where I was, what I’d just done, why, and what was going to do in the first place. He’s also a bit of a git every time I write an Ode. I often start typing a word, and just go blank as I’m about to type it. That might be connected to my thinking of a word to use as a follow-up? Or not.
I’ll have to ask Mr Google for a word to describe it. My guess is: Word Blindness, Memory Lapse, or maybe Inchies Syndrome?
Sky Photos taken late on.
Beautiful!
And zoomed in a bit.
Cooking Time…
Result? Not too bad.
I may have overrated this one.
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Have a Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Day
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0530hrs: I stirred from my broken sleep for maybe the twentieth time and decided to give up on sleep and get up. I was well pleased with the limited hassle I got from Cartilage Chloe as I hoisted my mega-sized, wobbly-bodied torso onto my feet. 
Whoopsiedangleplop would arrive first. I decided to get the nocturnal pouch off the day bag first, then check to see if I’d left anything like taps running overnight again. If I find the hot water tap running this morning, it will be for the third day on the trot.
kitchenette to check the things in there. Much to my relief, I found I’d not left the hot or cold tap running. I got the kettle on and photographed the foggy, dark, dank morning. The light was from some property. It looked a little like it could be the sky, but it wasn’t; in view that couldn’t be seen were Nottinghamian’s dwellings, roads, and streets. Possibly a few burglars at work, drunks still making their way home, muggers lurking, drug deals taking place, and many Nottinghamians, perhaps still sobering up from the Christmas Day party? I made the brew of Glengettie and turned to get the milk from the fridge.
I found I’d left the fridge door open and the freezer one, too!
A few more street lights can be seen in this second photograph of the early but not-so-early morning view from the kitchenette.
Made a brew; I’ll get to drink one soon. I took it to the computer and reset my old-fashioned calendar clock.
Carer Richard arrived. The lad looked and sounded done for after his shift; I was his last call. I didn’t keep him waiting about this time like I did yesterday. He still has two leg braces on and is using a crutch-walker. I did not ask him to put the diabetic socks on for me. Bending does the lad and me no good. I’ll ask a later Carer to put the socks on, providing that I remember to, of course!
After Richard had departed on his way to a much-needed sleep, I had to pay the wet room a visit. I anticipated more trouble like yesterday from a Trotsky Terence session. I didn’t waste a second in getting in there, just in case of any unanticipated droppages before I could get myself seated.
Was back in charge! I sat there urging, painfully pushing, to encourage the monster torpedo to move; it got stuck at what felt like an inch of the way out. Refusing to budge any further!
So, I went back into the kitchen to make another one. I took another snap of the fog out there. It looks just the same now as I write this 4 hours later.
I inspected the freezer to see if anything could be risked using and what needed dishing. A costly decision to do that. But better safe than sorry. I left the thawed-out bread and cobs in there; I think they can be refrozen safely. I took the bag of throw-outs to the waste chute and threw them in.
What An Amazing Session This Was!
Do you notice the acute lack of any shaving cuts in this photo on the right? Not a single one! 
2: I got it off in what must have been a record time; at least, it seemed like it to me. (Although, I suppose there was a slight chance that I had a mini-seizure)
. I ended up with 
, and the
newly grown leg ulcer got a clout as I battled 
. I banged it against the corner of the floor cabinet. All the bending down set off 
bleeding. Still, I thought I’d done a decent job in the end with the catheter.
1400hrs: And just look at the effect of the fog! Can’t even see the Christmas lights put there now. It could be dodgy for the Carers to get in. Or home!
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