I spent hours and hours getting these TFZer graphics done.
And enjoyed every second of doing them.
I hope they like them, every one likes a laugh and joke!
I spent hours and hours getting these TFZer graphics done.
And enjoyed every second of doing them.
I hope they like them, every one likes a laugh and joke!
Finnish: Lauantaina 6 Lokakuuta 2018
0130hrs: Yet again, I wake up feeling a different person. ([Chance would be a fine thing], I said that wrongly, sorry), I meant, Yet again, I woke up feeling ‘Like’ a different person. Hehe!
Only the worrying bleeding from the Fungal lesion bothered me, all my other ailments appeared to be taking a holiday. I’m delighted to say!
As I lay there amidst some suspicious looking empty nibble pots around my bulbous body balancing atop the £300 second-hand recliner, absorbing this good news: my innards summoned me to the Porcelain Throne. Out of the recliner, no toe stubbing, no dizzies or shakes (Looking good healthwise today), and I had one of the best Porcelain Throne session I’ve had for days now. *No bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids either!
Washed and tended to the Health Checks. With further encouraging signs in the results (I began to wonder if I was still asleep and dreaming, such good fortune for me? Haha!). With all this luck, maybe I might win the lottery and become one of the nouveau-riche? Oh, no, I don’t do the lottery… perhaps I should? Hehe!
Just look at this morning’s results folks. Sys, Dia, Pulse, temp and weight all down from yesterdays higher readings!
Even the sphygmomanometer worked the first time!
Can this last, I thought?
I got on with updating the Friday blog and got it sent off.
Made a start on this post, but I got distracted into adding some more words to the personal dictionary. An hour or so later, I went to make a mug of tea and take the medications.
A Lilliputian release of wind from the rear end – and I had to make a dash to the Porcelain Throne again! I was delighted that I was in the kitchen at this time, for I was but a few paces from the wet room door.
♫ Just in time, I got there, just in time
My get-there time was running low
Blood was lost, the PPs had to be tossed… ♫
Had I had to go any further, I’m sure I would not have made it in time! So much for my improvement with the luck department! That didn’t last long, although I don’t know, nearly four hours without any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplops ain’t too bad. I think my EQ knew all along that the unnatural absence of Accifauxpas would not last… it never does.
The pay-back time now. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were stinging and pouring blood, and Little Inchies Fungal lesion was in a messy sanguineous state.
Medications applied (Germoloid and Daktacort), change of PPs, and I had a wash and a cleanup.
Feeling like another person again now. My usual Schlimazel variety!
As I was leaving the wet room, I spotted a few dead Evil ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetle carcases on the floor. This prompted me to get the spray and ‘do’ each room in the flat. There more dead bodies in every place, I collected them as I went around into a pot come coffin.
Unbelievable, picking up very last of the beasts from the kitchen floor, and the painful lower-back electric-like stabbing pains returned!
I got the brew and took some extra painkillers, which is the last thing I wanted to do, I’d been trying to reduce the Codeine Phosphate intake because of all the falling asleep I’m doing.
And, will the bleeding interfere with the planned Haemorrhoidectomy Strangulation procedure?
I am not in a good mood now, especially compared to how I woke up feeling so good. Pessimistic, disaster-prone, hexed, cursed, jinxed, voodooed, luckless… Yes! The poor old thing, Haha!
I took some a photos from the kitchen window of down on Chestnut Way in the rain.
A bit nippy when I opened the window to take these shots.
I set about finishing the funny graphics I’d done of some of the Willmott Dixon lads, and posted them to Facebook, too.
Hope they get a laugh from them.
I got some photographs on my Pinterest site. Then some onto my Facebook Albums.
Started today’s diary going again, up to here. Then went on the WordPress Reader section, had a perusal of others efforts on WordPress. I’ve not heard anything from Tim Price lately. I pray all is okay, medically speaking. Could be technical or holidaying has delayed his content.
Then back to TFZer Facebooking. Made a graphic from the Goose Fair photo of the scary Spooky Tower Haunted House thing. TFZer creator Sandie in her Halloween outfit. Haha!
I posted it to the TFZer site. Then did a post about the latest Political Humour Graphics wot I dun! Hehe!
I made a Christmas order for the 20th December to Morrisons. Then got the meal prepared, did the Health Checks while waiting for the sliced potatoes to cook.
I remember eating this meal and thinking it was a much better effort than of late.
What happened afterwards is a total mystery to me, as I nodded off repeatedly, waking and seeing the TV was on, then drifted off again and repeated this many times.
I woke with a start at 0025hrs, full of fears and trepidation. The lower back pain twinging, and Inchies lesion flowing copiously. The stomach grinding. I must have had a memory blank period methinks.
Ah, well, I thought and got up.
Dutch: Donderdag 17 mei 2018
0300hrs: My expergefaction was short and sweet this morning. No sooner had the brain activated, an ideé fixe lodged itself in my mind, and I just knew I had to get the laundry done, and felt an urgency and essentiality about it!
Had a wee-wee. Got the day clothes and shoes on. Collated and collected the bag of soiled clothing, camera in my pocket and down to the laundry room.
Filled and started the washing machine going.
Noticed the state of the room, being slightly messy. I’ll take a hoover down with me later, to try and clean it up a bit.
Up to the flat. Got the Health Checks done and took the medications.
The Sys Dia and Pulse was up a little compared to yesterdays. I thought this was a good sign. Then I realised I’d done the HC’s later than usual and had exerted a little effort, and this is why the readings had raised a tad?
The body and ailments seemed to be doing well this morning. Duodenal Donald is not bothering me at all! Arthur Itis only a few twinges. Reflux Roger, again, just the littlest of enforced deep breaths. Hippy Hilda, well, it felt like I had no hassle whatsoever, but she did start lambasting me physically later in the day. (Can’t expect all the ailments to be tickety-boo all the time.) One must presume asynchronous changes in degree daily. Harry Hernia being kind too. Anne Gyna is only just beginning to offer her stabbing pains here, there and all over the chest and neck area; but this is nothing compared to how she can play me up some days.
Overall, I feel a little lucky with how things are. (Fingers crossed that I won’t regret saying this, Hehe!)
Back down to move the laundry from washer to the dryer. I forgot to take the hoover down with me. Dumkopf!
Got the togs into the dryer and began to clean the other machine.
I came across a rusty screw when I wiped inside the rubber covering at the bottom of the drum. This is the third one of these I have found this year?
I wonder how long it will last before it collapses? Hahaha!
Back up to the flat and got on with updating the Wednesday Diary.
Still no Porcelain Throne visit? Unlike my innards this situation is. Regularly daily, within the first ten minutes of rising out of the £300 second-hand recliner, I find myself on the Throne. But not today.
Updating the diary again, the time seemed to flash by, and the alarm rang to remind me about the laundry. So, back down again – once more forgetting to take the hoover with me. Tsk!
Got the clobber sorted, folded and into the bag.
When I looked at the socks, all turned in themselves, the lighter grey pair reminded me of someone who used a glove puppet that looked similar to the socks. He or she was on TV I think?
I just can’t remember the person, yet I can recall the glove-puppet, although neither name.
To try and clean up the laundry room, I utilised the spiffy, à la mode, semi-automatic, state-of-the-art cleaning equipment with the cobwebs hanging on them, behind the door.
Done my best! Huh!
Back up with the clean clothing and got it stored away.
Refilled the accoutrements pots ready for the nest washing session.
Got on with updating the Wednesday post while awaiting the arrival of the Morrison Home Delivery.
The chap arrived around 0625hrs. It seems I had a lot more stuff than usual today, certainly more carrier bags than usual. Yet, I’d spent a little less?
I got the stuff stored away. Unfortunately, I had to throw some frozen stuff away to make room for the new fodder. Schlemiel!
The noises from the lads preparing the out wall ready to have the insulation fitted, before the cladding could be done; seemed to be getting closer and closer with some speed.
I got the veg stew cooking on the crock-pot. I used a bay leave today, fingers crossed it tastes okay.
Still, no Porcelain Throne demands were made of me, yet?
Got the nibble box filled, gifts and raffle prizes in the bag ready for the Social Hour.
Back on the computer and finished the Wednesday Inchcock and posted it off. Then made a start on this blog.
There was a sudden dull thud-like noise emanated from the kitchen that made me jump, so I went to investigate.
There were blood and feathers, floating down from above the flat window.
At first, I thought a bird had flown into a wall or window, but the blood was still coming down?
I put the small camera out of the window and took a blind shot off above the frame.
I think that a bird of prey had been for his breakfast pidgeon.
I forgot about making a brew and returned to the computer and carried on with creating this page.
The Virgin Internet or the computer kept going very slow and stuttery.
This depressed and worried me much. So I turned everything off and back on again, giving it a few minutes before starting it all up again.
Seems to have rectified the problem. (He says with high hopes and blind faith!)
The chaps doing the prep work outside arrived at my floor. I think they were putting anchors of some kind in the walls.
Checked and stirred the crock-pot.
Ablutions tackled. Unfortunately, I managed to cut the mole on my right cheek while shaving, and it took me yonks to get it to stop bleeding.
Not cataclysmic, I know. Lamentably, this glitch came at the most inopportune moment.
Ruefully, it meant I was very late for the Social Hour.
Out to the Winwood Social Hour meeting. By the time I’d got down and to the ‘Temporary Obergruppenfurheress Wardens HQ, Building Workers Rest Room, Social Hut, Target for Thieves, and Telling Inchcock Off shed’; There were only about eight or nine residents left in there. I felt a right Alter Kocker!
Jenny, Frank, Cyndy, Mo and others. A chat with Jenny, and got the nibbles and cakes handed out. By then most were getting ready to leave. I did feel a fool! Said my goodbyes and departed feeling a little stupid.
On the way back to the flat, there was a bit of a nip in the air out there. Although the sky looked beautiful.
No one about, I came all the way down Chestnut Walk, through the lobby and lift area, up to the 12th floor and into the apartment without seeing anyone. Oh, no I fib! I did pass the caretaker going the other way and shared greetings with him.
Still no signs of any need for the Porcelain Throne?
Made a cuppa and got on with updating this bloke for an hour or so. Then went onto creating some diary-top graphics on CorelDraw and CorelPaint.
Three hours later, and feeling a little drained, I got some of the graphics done and saved.
Had a check to see if any comments had come in on WordPress. Got one.
Checked the casserole, stew whatever it should be called. Coming on nicely now. The contents are Tomatoes, swede, parsnips, garden peas, carrots, mushrooms and red onions. The flavourings: Caremalised gravy granules, balsamic vinegar, onion salt, a bay leaf, clear vinegar, BBQ powder and tomato puree.
How it will turn-out, I don’t know, but I’ve just had a spoonful of the liquid, it wasn’t great tasting but seemed okay, well, passable.
Got it served up and enjoyed it! Enjoyment-Flavour Rated as 8.8/10.
The tray still on my overgrown wobbly stomach, I nodded off!
I seemed to launch into dreamland immediately, and what an odd dream it was. I was in a desert at night, and wanting for some reason, to sing. Each time I got a few words out, someone would shoot me? I tried and tried again, I have no idea what it was I attempting to sing. But a vulture, sat on a cactus, kept looking at me and winking in my direction? In the morning, I made this graphic, but it is nothing like in the dream, just an idea of what occurred in my not unpleasant, but a frustrating nocturnal nightmare, Hehe!)
I seemed to die and wake up alive in another dessert and still desperate to sing, it started all over again?
After waking up and scribbling notes about this land-of-Nod tale, I could not get back to sleep. Well, I did, but not until hours later. Humph!
Persian: 2018 چهارشنبه 16 مه
0350hrs: My expergefaction was insuisiant – for a few ecstatic moments I was totally untroubled, blissfully content, in heaven almost. Then the doubts, fears, concerns and self-loathing returned.
I got out of the £300 second-hand recliner, automatically; and went to do the Health Checks and make a brew.
The pulse continues to fall each time this week, I wondered why?
With the doctor’s surgery mob, not informing me of any appointments for my blood test (Again!) this week, I’ll be going to the City Hospital Haematology Department for it.
Oh, going out yesterday, I forgot to check the emails to see if they have belatedly informed me, I’ll take a look at Gmail to find out. No, nothing arrived, as if I expected any! Grumph!
I think the day out and the odd lunch yesterday, might have affected the innards. Because the Porcelain Throne evacuation was terribly messy, multi-coloured and loose.
Another blue-hue outside.
I got on with updating yesterday’s diary.
Then made a start on this one up to here, and got the ablutions tended to.
Umbrella (just in case), paperwork-appointment cards, nibbles for the hospital staff, crossword book (if any waiting to be done), bus-pass to get home afterwards and I set off. A cheery chap was in the lift I caught, he is a disabled man who’s not long moved into Woodthorpe Court.
He said he is expecting to be moved into the Extra-Care Unit block when it is built.
We crossed the road together and started off up the gravel footpath hill, with me in a failed pursuit. By gum he could move, when he’d almost reached the top, I was about half-way up the incline.
I got to the summit and turned left down the pedestrian path, and he was well down the road. The knees started giving me some bother, and I slowed down to my normal hobbling snail-with-a-broken leg pace. Hehehe!
I put the Arthur Itis problems with the knees down to all the sitting in the hard bus seats yesterday. I should have taken my ring-cushion with me. Funny how all these good ideas come to light when it is too late, innit? Tut-tut!
Got onto Mansfield Road, and down to the Ring Road.
The weather perfect for walking I thought. Not too warm or cold, with a gentle breeze.
The pavement cyclists were frequently passing by so close to me, that I walked tight in the right-hand edge of the amusingly footpath, against the railings.
An exciting piece of Nottingham Pavement Art was on the footpath. Not exactly Art Deco. This abandoned fuel tank might have challenged that famous pile of bricks that the Tate had the inane stupidity to show a few years ago?
Just as I was despairing of the untidy Nottinghamiam’s, I got cheered up at the end of the road.
These simple flowers, struggling to break through to the sun, and the new fencing, seeming to do so much better than their brethren up against the rusty bars?
I turned up Hucknall Road and into the Nottingham City compound. To the top of the road and right straight into the Phlebotomy waiting room. I was pleasantly surprised at how few people were seated there. Got my ticket, 139. The sign showed up a call for ticket 131, so I was not long at all waiting. Time to have a go at the crossword and get no answers to them though. Thicko, at his best!
The calls were all for bay-one, so obviously there was only one nurse on duty taking the blood. Good job there wasn’t too many patients then.
At my turn, I went in and got sat down and sleep up and my arm all ready, then my mobile rang. I turned it off, I usually do when I go to a hospital or clinic, but I forgot to today. Klutz!
A nurse appeared from around the corner. Pretty little thing (Most of them are). She got the blood taken in seconds, but could she stop the bleeding? This indicated to me that the INR Warfarin level must be pretty high. Perhaps, maybe. She was very calm about this altercation she was having stopping the flow. Eventually, it ceased, and I gave her the bag of nibbles to share. She was very startled and asked me what it was for. I told her; ‘For the nurses to have on their break!’
I thanked her and departed. Out and down to the GUM Clinic. I rang Sister Jane back on the way there. She had seen I’d not sent her the link to the diary and was a concerned bless her. We had a chinwag, and I had to ring-off to go into the clinic.
, a five-star one on my behalf! The appointment was for next Wednesday, not today! What an Eizel! I’m concerned at these happenings.
With a red face and feeling foolish, I left the Clinic, to go to the request stop to catch a number 40 route bus home to the flats. I spotted a chap trimming the grass around the building, and killing so many wildflowers as he did so.
As I got towards the bus shelter, I spotted that he’d either missed or showed compassion for the clump of flowers. I’m not sure why I mentioned this?
I meandered up the hill to the shelter and waited for the 40, five young ladies joined the queue and were joined by two blokes later. Only had ten minutes to wait for it to arrive. When it did, the young girls forced their way on first.
Not that it mattered, because there were plenty of free seats, just annoying like.
I was soon being dropped off the bus, on Winchester Street, and hobbling up to the top junction and turning right onto the welcoming sight of Chestnut Walk and the apartments.
The Willmot-Dixon lads were making a start on Winchester Court’s balcony windows.
The workers all sounded and looked like they were busy again today.
Half-way along Chestnut, I stopped to picture a plant vehicle coming out of the new build compound onto the roadway.
Arthur Itis’s right knee did a whoopsie on me. Didn’t-half hurt, as it felt like a grating pain with the sensation that the Infrapatellar bursitis was about to become detached from the patella. Boy did it sting! But not for long amazingly, it was back to normal within minutes? Well, by the time I’d got to the foyer doors.
Where I spotted some more, more localised Nottingham Street Art, on display outside of the scaffolding. Tsk!
I thought at this time that I heard someone calling my name. Nobody nearby, so I went into the road to look up to see if someone was shouting through the window and might need assistance.
Then it dawned on, that no tenants can get their heads out of the windows anyway, while all the locks are still on. So no one could have been calling my name? What a schlepper!
I took this photo showing the insulation progress on Woodthorpe Court block of flats. I think they are finishing the back part of it now, with just the front to do. Which will be interesting noise-wise, the back they are doing now is noisy enough, what it will be like when they start drilling it onto the outside of my flat, worries me. But, it has to be all done before they can get the cladding fitted.
AS I went in through the foyer, I spotted May in the laundry room. The poor gal looked very drained and poorly to me. I inquired about her health, to find she has terrible shoulder pains. This ailment sprang the pain-gel into my mind. I explained to her that it is alright to mix Iboprufen with the paracetamol she is on, I knew this because the doctor had got using them years ago. I asked if she would like some of the Phorpain gel to try. She was okay with this, so I nipped up to the flat and got a tube for her. Penny had joined her when I got down. Handed the tube to her, advising her to rub it in well. The three of us had a little nattering session, and I went back up to the apartment.
It had been an enjoyable little hobble-out today. No rain helped. Haha!
I got in and did the Health Checks, took the midday medications and made a brew.
This is the second brew I made, after finding the milk I put in the mug had curdled! And it still had another day left on its use-by-date! Grumph!
I used a bottle of long-life milk I had in the cupboard. Which was fine. I then discovered the sell-by-date. 31-3-18! Gobsmacking innit? The Morrison milk is terrible and off a day before its use-by-date, and the Asda is one, is still alright 2 months after its use-by-date!
I’d just started to update this diary, and a phone call came in. All polite, a fellows voice said: “I’m David from BT, I’m calling regarding your internet connection…” I stopped him there, answering; “No thank you!” And put the phone down.
I pressed on with sorting things to do the updating. To the clang, bang sounds from Herbert up above. After which just the odd bangs, rattles or clangings persisted for many hours, but not regularly or often.
I removed the cover from the blood taking hole, the nurse had done well with stemming the flow, hardly any haemoglobin on the bit of cotton wool.
I got the vegetables trimmed ready to use later and got the oven warming up for these and the potato slices. Made another small mug of breakfast tea and back to the updating of this post. But could not concentrate very well, so it was taking me an inordinately long time for some reason.
With Arthur Itis and Haemorrhoid Harry both annoying me, I decided to take extra codeine. During which I spotted a fair bit of smoke across the Winchester Street. It looked clear smoke, so I assumed it was from garden cuttings burning. The one thing that stood out to me was the wind kept changing?
Eventually, I got up to here with the updating, and realised I had still not finalised or posted yesterday’s Inchcock! What a Schlimazel!
So I went to update and post the Tuesday post off.
A few more taps and knocks from Herbert while I did this task.
Got it done and had an email from the surgery. No mention of there not making an appointment for me this week, but, they have done this time, for next week.
Now, I’ll explain about my going to the hospital for the blood test.
First thing, I get told off for going there and not the surgery.
They failed to give me an appointment for the surgery last time!
When I go to the surgery, it can take three or four days before I get the results.
Today, (Going to the hospital for the test) I got the results and doses within five hours!
But even so, the Doctors receptionists have given me a late appointment with all this advance warning time too!
I believe, that because they know I would like an early appointment, and I have been naughty in their eyes, they have given me another late appointment that they know will prevent me from getting to sleep at my usual time, thus making me poorly in the long run. Oh, they are thoughtless, and I believe they don’t like me at all! Probably hate and despise me!
But at least they have made this unwantedly late appointment for me with Nurse Nicole!
Then the door chime rang out.
It was the Obersturmbannführer from Willmott-Dixon, checking on what still needed doing plastering-wise. I showed him the gaps in the kitchen window framing. He said it would be sorted. Nice chap. Off he trotted, and I got back to the updating for a while, then got the potatoes and turnips in the oven.
Accompanied by Noisy Herbert’s occasional clanging and banging noises, I ate the meal.
Not so good this one. I could only rate it as an offensive 5/10 rating. The pork pie meat was far too fatty, the apples too soft, and the turnips were too tough.
You can’t win ’em all!
I did the pots and settled to watch some TV, two Hustle episodes. Got through the first one with only about four nod-offs, the second one I managed a few minutes, but the eyelids were so heavy. So I gave up, turned the TV off and head-down.
Scottish Gaelic: Dimàirt 15 Cèitean 2018
0400hrs: I stirred into imitation life and waited for the brain to join me. First thing I observed was an extraordinarily detailed and mostly readable scribble on the notepad. It related to an odd dream I’d had last night. (Most of them are strange though, aren’t they?) I used this later on, in updating the Monday diary.
I had to move a bit sharpishly to get the Health Checks done and updating, as I did not want to be late for the bus for the Melton Mowbray Market visit with some other tenants. This will be a hopefully happy dépaysement for me.
No pleurodynia pains today. Got on with the Helth Checks.
The sphygmomanometer was taking many efforts to get it to work and coming up with EE (Error) messages on the screen.
A call to the Porcelain Throne had to be responded to. A good session, no bleeding from Haemorrhoid Harold at all!
Back to the hemadynamometer, which operated first try this time.
The pulse is a bit low again. As for the tea, most enjoyable.
I got on with updating the Monday post. Made a graphic to use in the tale of the dream. Got it completed and posted off.
Began on this one up to here. Time to get the ablutions tended to.
All readied, I kerfuffled, grubbled and fumbled around with much ingemination, and eventually got, what I hoped would be everything needed for the little bus ride and the visit to Melton Mowbray Market.
Arriving in the lobby, to find nobody around. Then wondered, had I make a Whoopsiedangleplop over the timing?
I took an amble outside to take some photographs.
Back into the foyer and sat doing a crossword. Others arrived, led by Jenny. We all had a natter for awhile, and the mini-bus arrived. A new Ford Transit, about a 14-seater. We mounted, got out seat belts on and soon we were off travelling.
Considering how annoyingly uncomfortable and hard the seats were, the draught coming through the open sunroof creating an annoyance, and enjoyable to listen to nattering from the other, I don’t know how many other residents from both Courts: I fell asleep in seconds.
I woke up as we drove by the Nottingham City Homes flats in Sneinton. By the time I’d got my camera out, we had gone by them. The seats, the seats with an inbuilt hatred for Haemorrhoid sufferers, ensured that no more nodding offs occurred for the rest of the journey.
Jenny was in good form, I love listening to her tales and always end up smiling to myself when I hear them. And, she asked if the sunroof could be closed when others asked her.
Luckily, I had taken some codeine with me and took two, which helped diminish the pain level from the rear end, a tad.
Jenny had it all in hand when we arrived in the coach park in Melton. She aided us all to get off the bus and reminded us that if we feel a little strained or drained, the bus will be here and open for any of us to call back to and have a nap. (I knew she was aware of my tendencies to nod-off and fade in the early afternoons, bless her.) I was well impressed with the gals and guys at the speed with which they all shot off. I followed in their wake so I could find out where the Market was. I caught up with them at the Pelican lights, and Jenny pointed out which way to go to the market.
Frank was over the moon at seeing there was a Wetherspoon pub located nearby, just over the road from the bus park. His wonderful smile lit up, and I had to smile too. Bless him.
We all split up, and I made my way to the market.
I kept meeting up with Jenny and Frank as I hobbled around the market street. I think they might have thought I was haunting them. Hehe!
I did get a pair of dark trousers that were my odd-size. Short legs, wide stomach, Hehe!
I ambled around, going up alleyways and side streets, I was amazed I didn’t get lost.
I decided not to buy any Pork Pies until after I’d perused all the places selling them. I did have a look at the Dickinson & Morris shop to see what they were offering.
The only other ones on sale were at a Market Stall, but they had some pork pies without tops or lids and had squashed extra-strong blue Stilton cheese in place of the crust. £5 each.
I met again with Jenny and Frank, who were sat outside a Caffé Nero. Jenny invited me to sit with them for a while, and a lovely natter ensued. One of the tenantesses from Winchester Court joined us for a while.
I had a limp around outside the market area and came across the River Eye. A shallow river near a Rest Home and the Memorial Gardens.
I did take a picture of the waterway, but it seems to have gone off into the ether, for I could not find it on the SD card in the morning when I started this update?
I decided to fetch the Pork Pies. Finding the Dickinson & Morris Ye Olde Pork Pie Shop to get a £4.95 pie, and then the market stall to purchase a £5 stilton topped pork pie was surprisingly easy for me.
Once I had these purchases in the bag, hunger pangs arrived. I called into the Iceland store and bought a bottle of fresh orange juice, mini pies, and some cheese-topped cobs.
This simple meal went down so well. I sat on a bench outside the shop and sat there for ages, slowly enjoying this feast in the sunshine. Had to keep the hat on though, shame.
After the agony from Haemorrhoid Harold at getting back up after so long a sit, I meandered back towards the bus park and thought about going into the Mobility Shop there, to see if they had any picker-uppers for sale.
But was put-off when I saw a dirty-great big bloke in blue overalls coming out of the place. Slash scars on his face, tattoos everywhere, dark, sinister eyes, a twitch in his left eye, rings on his ears, nose, and lips… eurgh! Put me right off that did!
I noticed some activity near the bus at the other end of the park. It looked like they were a lot of us old folks ready to go home, (I was!).
I joined them and soon got seated and belted up ready. Haemorrhoid Harold was burning and stinging away at me! Hehe! The rest of our party were assisted by Jenny to get settled and soon we were off, back to the place we all call home.
As the driver bloke reversed out of the parking space, I took this photographicalisation.
I was listening to the conversations that I could make out the others were having… I’m not sure how long it took, but it felt like seconds later, I fell asleep.
I woke to find the bus had pulled up and folks were alighting with the help of Jenny. Missed the trip back there, didn’t I?
The driver dropped the Winchester Court folk off first, then went down to Woodthorpe Court to release our clan.
I realised as I stirred and got ready to get off the bus, that I had not taken any photographs as I had intended, of Jenny and Frank. Humph! Schlemiel!
The first one I thought was the bestest of all the three.
I pointed out after taking it that it looked like Frank was indicating something naughty. Hehe!
The clan were all eager to get back to their flats, no doubt all for different reasons. I imagine some would be requiring the use of the porcelain throne, a cup of tea or coffee?
Or like me, desperate to check if I had left the tap running again or not! I Hadn’t, Phew!
I took the last shot of Jenny with the driver. Nice effort I thought, considering how tired I was.
Some words were shared, but the brain just cannot recall what was said, now. Klutz!
When I got in, Herbert above was clattering away on and off until 2006hrs! Which prevented me getting to sleep, despite how shattered I felt.
Still, no need to make owt to eat. Did the Health Checks. Had a wash, utilised the Porcelain Throne, had a rinse, changed into jammies and got down to watch the TV, thinking this would get me off to sleep.
I even had the headphones on when I heard another clatter from Herbert, it surprised me, just as I was drifting off again, too!
Danish: Mandag den 14. Maj 2018
0325hrs: I woke with an abjectness and lugubriosity, undoubtedly brought on by the usual weekend’s loneliness, self-pitying and depression. The moment the brain engaged with the body, and I moved to extract my body-mass from the £300 second-hand recliner; the head and shin bruising reminded me of yesterday’s Whoopsiedangleplop when I fell off of the step-ladder while trying to change the light bulb. A behind-the-eyes headache that followed is still with me. Tsk!
The usual ailments all seemed to be kind to me at this moment. Well, apart from Duodenal Donald and Little Inchies lesion, anyway.
Off to the kitchen to take the medications, do the Health Checks and make a brew.
It was really pippy in the apartment again, this morning.
To the computer and made-up the record for last week on Excel.
Off to the Porcelain Throne. A much better, more comfortable and less messy evacuation this time. Good!
Back to the kitchen to make a second small mug of Breakfast Tea.
The wind was whistling in through where the plastering repairs were done last week.
Both the left and right-hand sides of the window frame was blowing in, around the room and right up my jammy bottoms! Hehe!
Oh, dearie me. I no longer own a dinky, just the right size clear glass milk jug. Schlemiel!
Dropping and smashing it was bad enough in the first place, but getting back up off of the floor after retrieving the shards of glass, and wiping up the milk, proved far more pestiferous for me! Humph!
I started to feel a little more down-in-the-dumps, despondent, after this klutzy Whoopsiedangleplop.
We all have to endure and tolerate accidents, misadventures, calamities and setbacks; but I seem to get such vast amounts of these?
Think about it: Born into the world and Mother’s first words to the Midwife were “I don’t want it, throw it in the Trent!” I caught double-pneumonia at the age of three. Mam and Dad were fighting all the time. Born with the smallest appendage ever. Thrown in the canal at five-years-of-age. Sister goes to live with relatives. Older Brother goes in the army, ends up in Hong Kong and stays there. Mother kept running away when she got too much in debt, returning now and then for a few weeks after Dad had paid off the bills she’d accrued in between, and she’d be off again. Me and Dad now. Got shot then stabbed while being a security guard. A hernia and Duodenal ulcer came along. Prostate Cancer next. New Aorta Valve ticker next. Then the reflux valve played up. Arthur Itis started. Hearing aids fitted. Hippy Hilda kicked off. Been mugged three times. I had the house broken into five times. Lost driving licence after the ticker operation. I got a parking ticket charge from Manchester, where I have never driven! Haemorrhoids become rampant, still waiting for ops. Moved into independent living accommodation. The flats are being upgraded, carpets destroyed, holes in walls, can’t hear the fire alarm and got a noisy neighbour living above me.
Got a bit morbid, frustrated and self-hating again there. Sorry about that.
Back to make another small mug of tea.
The usual morning blue-hue out through the kitchen window.
Got on with finalising the depressingly downbeat Sunday diary.
Posted it off to WordPress. Which once again started spell checking in American English. I had to go in settings yet again, but it was already on UK English? Back to the edit page and it was now correcting for UK English? All part of Whoopsiedangleplop ridden luck of this old chap.
Another mug of tea went cold, so off to the kitchen to make yet another one.
I got some Black bean cook in sauce in the slow cooker, then got the vegetables (Shallot, red onions, orange peppers, tomatoes and turnips. although of course are a fruit, not a vegetable) chopped up and placed in with lemon grass, onion salt, tomato puree and BBQ seasoning. Added a little balsamic vinegar.
When I’d got in the crock-pot, I took a close-up photographicalisation. Of a spoonful of the concoction.
How I managed to get the red first shot, I don’t know? I tried again without changing any settings, and it came out alright? What did I do wrong?
0550hrs: Herbert was making a bit of banging noises? Only the two of them, then nothing followed? A bit early that!
I recalled that tomorrow was the trip out on a coach to Melton Mowbray Market. I must get to pay Jenny for the outing later, and ask her what time the bus leaves. I’ll try to remember on the way back from Arnold to call and ask her.
I made a start on this diary.
0755hrs: Off to get the ablutions tended to. Jolly-good shave, teggies were done and a showering session of depth and a reasonable duration.
Made up the waste bags from the bins, and took them to the refuse chute.
All readied, I grubbled about and did the double-checking, had I left anything on that should be off or visa-versa, taps lights etc. routine.
And, then I was off. As I arrived at the Oberscharführeress Warden’s temporary HQ & Social gathering shed, I met Obergruppenfurheress Deana as she was coming out to do her rounds. We spoke briefly. But being as I have been forbidden by the Nottingham City Homes Management, from revealing any words spoken twixt myself and the lovely Deana and Julie on my blog; I shall say no more!
I turned back to facing the Woodthorpe Courts, and the new build extra care flats and Gefreiteress Wardens new HQ is being built. The rooftop recreational seating area will soon be finished at the rate these lads are going. I took this photographicalisation, in the not as warm as it looks, sunshine.
Got into the Obersturmbannführeress Catwalk Models and Warden’s temporary HQ & Residents Social gathering hut. To find There were about a dozen or so folks in there, and more joined us inside, and others added to the queue outside at the bus stop. Inside, I listened to their gossiping and discussions over which are the best types of bets to have on horse races and the optimum bookie to use for the best odds. Led by one of my neighbours, bless the little addict. Not that he is little!
No one to talk to on the bus, all my fellow tenants bar one, got off in Sherwood, where a lady and I went on into Arnold.
I was surprised at how many shoplifters there were about on Front Street on a Monday, as I made my way to the Asda (Walmart) store.
Where I spent a fortune again! Tsk! I took my time and enjoyed having a good look around, checking for the most extended ‘use-by’ dates and anything on offer.
I bought some cooking sauces, turnips, a parsnip, potato cakes. Irish Batch bread, sliced seasoned potatoes, a pork pie, some mushrooms. More nibbles for the Social Hour box, Fresh cream horns, tomatoes and some new to me Breakfast tea bags; One by Yorkshire Tea, one Asda own label (Which I warn anyone wanting a strong or tasty drink of tea to avoid at all costs. Like catwaz it was!) Another £21.55 gone.
When I’d paid for the groceries and made my way out into the cold sunshine, I thought the bomb had been dropped or something. All the folk from earlier had seemed to have gone and left?
As I stood outside waiting to make my move to the bus stop on High Street, I saw this jet high above, and boy, was it moving, with seconds it was out of view!
I waddled up the hill to the bus request stop and put down the bags to ease Hippy Hilda.
She had begun giving me bother now, and she was not happy with me at all.
The guilt when I looked down and saw the Fresh Cream Horn cakes there on above was authentic!
The girl from the Care Home on Chestnut Walk arrived at the shelter. I was pleased to see her and lend an ear to her. The poor gal is not very good at the moment, with her problems. We spoke, but most importantly, I listened as she related the difficulties she was battling with, all the way back on the bus. Bless her.
As we were getting off of the bus, and that very kind lady from the 4th floor asked if she could carry one of my bags for me to the flats. Then as I was biding my farewells to the girl from the home, Caroline and the kind lady both said I looked poorly, with Caroline adding ‘It’s his hip again!’ The tender lady, replying ‘Yes, he doesn’t look well at all!’
And here was I, thinking I was doing so well physically, as well. Hehehe!
I took these shots above, of the buildings as the generous warmly-kind lady walked along Chestnut Walk at my speed with me, and chatted away. She held the door open for me too! I felt so blessed to have someone showing such warmth to me.
I thanked her for caring as she got off the lift.
I travelled up to the 9th floor and alighted, calling at Jenny’s apartment. I asked about the timing of the bus in the morning. I paid the £6 costs of the outing, and we chatted a little. As I was going up in the elevator, I realised I still didn’t know what time the bus was due. So I got up to the flat and deposited the bags, then I went down and visited the Generalleutnantess Wardens temporary HQ shed and Tenants Social hut, and inquired of Warden Deana if she knew of the timing for the bus to Melton Mowbray, tomorrow. Obviously, due to the Official Prohibition on my mentioning anything spoken of between any Nottingham City Homes representatives and myself on my blog, I cannot repeat anything that took place. But I was told to go and see Jenny!
So, back to the flats and up to see Jenny again. Which is permitted as reportable on my blog. I discovered, well, Jenny found I’d already paid for the bus trip earlier. And the bus leaves at 1000hrs were are to meet or congregate in the lobby at 0930hrs. I was happy to learn this.
Thanked Jenny, and limped back to the flat, with Hippy Hilda suddenly in a much better mood.
I checked the crock-pot progress, stirred and after a quick taste of a spoonful, I decided it needed an hour or so longer before it would be cooked to my liking. I added some caramelised gravy granules to the pot, another good stir of it, passed wind and went for a wee-wee. Washed-up and did the Health Checks. I was surprised but well pleased with how Hippy Hilda had calmed down so quickly.
Got on with updating this diary. Checked the slow-cooker regularly and after getting carried away with this post updating, three hours later, I got the seasoned chips into the oven and added some potato scones then.
I nipped to neighbour Doris (I think that’s her name, a lovely lady) next door and asked her if she would accept one of the French Horn Cream Cakes. Luckily she liked them and helped me out, thus saved me wasting food.
I misjudged the potato additions, and they came out burnt a tad. But still tasty, even though I had to soak them in the gravy to soften them enough to bite into them, especially the scones. Hahaha!
A delicious effort this time. I mentally gave the meal a rating of 9.55/10 and deservingly so, I thought. The cream horn cake finished off the feast perfectly.
I got the pots washed up, did the last Health Checks and settled in the £300 second-hand recliner, nodded off within seconds I think.
It felt like I was dreaming straight away, and what a terrible dream to have.
Seated in a cell of some sort, with threatening looking women and blokes, with tattoos, nose, ear and lip rings and scars over their faces; They insisted I would not be allowed to converse with anyone on earth again. With verbal threats and promises of my physical mangulation and slow death, if I did talk ever again. They then left me alone with a bucket of water, a box of medications and a dictionary; telling me that I could use the book to learn words I can no longer use? They informed I would be given time alone to consider their ‘offer’ and give them a solemn promise not to speak again when they return after my ‘thinking’ time.
After they all departed after knocking me about a bit, they all said in unison, “We will return!” I pondered on this and realised I would find it difficult to talk to them to give a decision or promise, because that would mean my talking to someone, surely?
Confused, and no one returning, I died some years later and assumed a spiritual observation of the cell.
This is where the dream memories let me down. All the early stuff, I found written on the notepad on the Ottoman and used them to prompt real recollections to write here in the morning, but no mention of what took place after I commenced my watching of the cell? Shame!
Finnish: Sunnuntaina 13. Toukokuuta 2018
0430hrs: I woke, (Late for me, but I did not get to sleep until around 0100hrs as I recall), believing I was still dreaming for a moment or two. Cause in the dream, I was in a sewer of some kind, being chased by ghosts, aliens, and robots, every time I found an escape hatch and climbed up it into the daylight. Then I saw myself laying in a hammock, bed, pile of leaves or whatever, where I woke up again. The location and form of bedding changed each time. This seemed to go on forever.
I extracted my full, podgy pilgarlic body out of the £300 second-hand recliner and off into the kitchen to make a cuppa and do the Health Checks.
The Sys had shot up, and the pulse had detruded down to 79 from the 100 recorded on yesterday’s morning Health Checks?
Had the shakes for a short while, I was concerned at first, but they stopped within minutes this time.
The wind was blowing in through the cracks and gaps left in the new window frame.
In fact, it was uncomfortably cold throughout the apartment this morning.
Had a long, drawn-out, slow painful sprinkling like wee-wee.
Fetched the dressing gown from the other room and got it on sharpishly.
Then, I just had to absquatulate back to the wet room with some urgency, for another annoyingly, tingling wee-wee.
Once again the tea had gone cold, so I made another and returned to the main room to get the computer started.
The light was not any longer on in the room, I didn’t remember turning it off. I went to turn it on at the wall switch, to find it was already in the turned on position.
Dangnations! The bulb had blown, yet another one bites the dust. This failure makes about five that have died on me in this location this year. And it was an expensive one too! I retrieved a sister bulb; I bought two of the same type last time. Fetched the step ladder and set about trying to change the bulbs.
I struggled a bit balancing on the top ledge, but got it swapped over; then got myself down taking the fast route and bypassing the steps down from the platform on the ladder.
Gave my right shin a good bang on the edge of the steps too, as I ended up in a somewhat hideously deformed, mangled and ugly mishmash of limbs and flesh. Landing partly on the Ottoman, and rolling off of it onto the carpet, clouting my head against on the legs of the £300 second-hand recliner.
Getting back upright from this position, proved to be a comical, farcical and quisquose task.
If it had been during the week, when assistance would have been on site, I would have pressed the wrist Health Alarm, and asked for help. They could easily have summoned one of the Hauptscharführeress Wardens, to ask them to call and give me a hand up. But, this being the weekend, with no none on site, I did not want to bother the Nottingham City Homes Control; because I felt they would have reasonably called for an ambulance to attend, and I thought this was not necessary.
Which, proved right as it happened. (Smug Mode Adopted – Hehe!)
Eventually, after grappling with the challenge of the ‘getting-back-up-again’ manipulations, I manoeuvered myself upright. But it took a lot of pain and effort. Hehe!
I got some cream on the head and shin.
Then had a look at the base of the expired light bulb.
It looked to me like there was some green and brown mould around the contact points?
Back to the wet room for a wee-wee.
Made another small mug of tea, I still hadn’t managed to drink one yet. Tsk!
It was 0740hrs by the time I got to updating yesterday’s post. Darnwangle! The WordPress was checking my spelling and grammar in American English again, of its own accord!
I did some WP reading and answered the comment.
Then made a start on this blog. Got up to here, then went on Facebooking, but it was slow so, I visited CorelDraw to do some TFZer graphics to use later.
1045hrs: Feeling a bit groggy, so I did the Health Checks and sat down in the chair for a while.
Got the meal done early.
Bit of a headache coming on. Did the pots and had a wee-wee
Nowt to fret about and Herbert was giving it some clout. Sat down and nearly passed-out. Snuck some poetry in there. Haha!
Got the Health Checks done.
TV on, feeling drained for no apparent reason, just sort of just lay there absorbing none of the Tommy-Rot being aired on the television, with the odd mind-wanderings’ delving into so many subjects, thoughts and frustrating things in life… Still awake eight-hours later… Tsk!
0340hrs: Stirred into life, and gently pandiculated while awaiting the brain to join in my hopes and dreams in acquiring the necessary awareness, to grasp the needs of the day and plan ahead.
Within seconds the newly procured ailment pains in the chest and around the left armpit were stabbing away at me as I took in involuntary breaths. (As the morning aged, these got far less frequent, I’m glad to report).
But, there was little acuity within the grey-cells. No signs of nocturnal nibbling or somnambulating having taken place.
As I got out of the £300 second-hand recliner, and stopped wobbling and gained some balance and confidence, no idea what I was about to go to do, though. Sad innit?, I felt the trickle of dampness down below in the PPs. Even sadder! Hehe!
The need for the Porcelain Throne arose at the same time. I fumbled a bit as I hastened to the wet room, Dizzy Dennis had not done with me yet. But, I did manage to avoid any toe stubbing en route. Evacuation and medicationalisationing and cleaning up all completed.
I was feeling a lot better now than when I first woke up.
The kettle switched on, and I went to get the slippers…
But where were they? After a few minutes probing and searching in the recliner room without any luck, I checked the wet room, not there either? And, I was sure I’d taken them off as usual when I settled in the recliner last night, and there were, as I said earlier, no signs of nocturnal nibbling or noctambulation having taken place? After what seemed like an hour of investigating and thinking I was going bonkers; I found them in the airing cupboard with the clothes… Why, when, how and what for? Got me beat this one!
An added puzzlement produced itself when I took the slippers out to put them on, the right one had a pen in it! Aliens? Ghosts? What a Meshugener!
Bemused, I went to do the Health Checks.
The pulsation rate had gone over the top again, by a fair margin, it’s not reached 100 all week.
My not knowing what the new ailment is being caused by, I took an extra codeine 30g and Ramprilil, not understanding if I’d done right or wrong, really. Hey-ho!
I realised at this point that I’d not had any visits from Craig Cramps last night at all. It’s been months since this has happened. Is there a link twit this and the new pains?
Heck of a thirst on me this morning, I made another mug of tea and got the computer on to update the diaries. I can inform any tea-drinkers out there, that the Extra-Strong English Breakfast tea bags, taste great, and they are delicious! They need a little longer to brew, but Mmm! Great! Oh, they are expensive to buy. Oh, I got a load of them from Morrisons when they first started to stock them, and they were on offer. Gone back up now, Tsk! But I’ve found some own label Breakfast tea bags in Marks and Sparks, which cost half as much, but are not so strong, but okay when I use my mini-mug. I’m waffling again, sorry.
Got the photographs from yesterday and those done already this morning into CorelDraw for formatting. Then began on catching up with the Friday post.
As soon as I started writing, the Grammarly add-on informed me I was spelling neighbour wrongly? As I wrote and it again stopped me when I wrote centre, I realised that somehow or other, Grammarly had changed my settings option to American English from UK English. But it took me ages to find out how to set this right. I just could not remember how or where it was in the programme. Klutz!
I ended up finding out I had gone to the right place first time but had not highlighted the American English to get into the options for other languages. Double Klutz!
Went to make yet another small mug of tea. And took this photographicalisation of the early morning Tree Copse – Bootiful!
Pressed on with doing the diary work for Friday’s lamentations, ululations, moanings, and grief-stricken Whoopsiedangleplops. Hehehe!
Hello, the new stabbing pains are right under the left arm now! They do get about a bit! Haha! Not complaining yet though, they are still far less often than yesterday’s attacks.
And, as well as and besides that; If Arthur Itis keeps giving me a break as he has been doing for last few days, I’ll feel obliged to write a threnody or even a soliloquy to him. A touch of silly imbecilicness there, sorry!
I got the two medication pots emptied, washed rinsed and left to dry on a kitchen towel on the window ledge, the one with the cuts chips and holes left in it, during the upgrading of our Concentration Camp, process.
Herbert above doing a bit of banging about up above. But it is the weekend, and he is always worse then noise-wise. It didn’t last long though.
Still, as the Nottingham City Homes Management told me, he is doing nothing wrong, it’s his hobby. Oh, no, they also told me not to put anything said between NCH staff and me on my blog, I forgot that for a moment, I’ll cross it out. Sorry.
Off for another wee-wee, not surprising with all the tea I have the craving of today. Wonder why?
It was a little windy, and I could feel it coming through where the walls were plastered last Thursday, both left and right side of the window.
More expense to put things right after the onslaught of the upgrading works. New carpets, curtains, holes to pay someone to fill in for me… No! Naughty Inchcock! Stop moaning!
The medicinal pots had dried nicely. So I set up next weeks doses while they were handily placed.
I got the nosh prepared for cooking, then into the crock-pot.
Chopped up the parsnips, tomatoes, red onions, gherkins, orange peppers and beef and mixed it with the tomato and mushroom pasta sauce. Seasoned with BBQ granules, balsamic vinegar, caramelised gravy granules, onion salt and a drop of lemon juice.
After I’d looked up the weather forecast for this week, I began to feel a little… erm, what’s the right wording? Sorry for myself and my astoundingly rotten, sick, dreadful, awful, terrible, frightful, atrocious, hopeless, inadequate, inferior, unsatisfactory, laughable and depressed making pathetic, lousy luck!
I had planned to get out again to the tropical house in Woodthorpe Grange Park. And on Wednesday I have at least an hours walk to the City hospital for the blood test. I have to go there this week because the doctor’s surgery people again forgot to give me an appointment. (Sherrington Park Medical Practise – I recommend you give them a miss if you are looking to sign on at any doctor’s unless you are a sadist of course). Of course, rain is only forecast for two days out of the seven, both the days I have to go out!
With this, the mess to sort out in the flat, the new ailment and Herbert again knocking and banging away above me, I find it hard not to get feeling down and pitiably sorry for myself at times. Humph!
I took a panoramic shot of this beautiful view out of the kitchen window.
Blow me, Herbert’s started clanging about again now! I wonder if I could take up playing the flugelhorn or euphonium in a brass band and practice my hobby every day?
Many hours later, I got caught up to here with this update.
Went to the WordPress Reader page. A comment perused and answered.
I put together 34 of the political page headers and posted it off to WordPress.
Then went on CorelDraw to create some more for later. Did this to the accompaniment of Herbert above.
Came to update this again, the WordPress options had gone back to U.S. English. Had to put it back again, third time today! Damn thing is still doing the spell-check for US English! I’m peed off!
The crock-pot mixture should be ready any time now I think, just tasted it, the vegetables still a little longer. It’s had about five and a bit hours, I’ll give it another hour more.
The casserole whatever it is called was just fine. An enjoyment rating of 8.9/10 given.
Got the pots washed and settled in the £300 second-hand recliner in search of sleep.
I tried everything I could think of to nod-off.
Watched the TV, tried reading, then watching a DVD… but nothing would ease the mind from its fretting, worrying and analysing.
Last time I noticed, when I got up for a wee-wee, it was 0100hrs gone!
The best thing, was that the sharp chest/arm pains had not bothered me for hours. Yeehaa!
Filipino: Biyernes Mayo 11, 2018
0338hrs: Woke, after having an odd night of weird dreams. With the EQ bearing a definite suspicion or anticipation of something adiaphorous being in the air and imminent! I hope it does arrive, it will be early as opposed to late-on, or I’ll be fretting about it until it does occur.
I noticed some notes on the scribble pad, I’d recorded bits about the first of last nights dreams. As I positioned my ever-getting more gargantuan body to get out of the £300 second-hand recliner, signs of much nocturnal nibbling became apparent. Chocolate and yoghourt covered peanuts, some melted and stuck to my stomach, leg and the cushion were cleared up, crumbs of an unknown origin on the recliner, and bits of nuts stuck in between the few teeth I have left. Oh, dear! Naughty me!
Off for a wee-wee, washed-up and made a brew, then got on with updating the Thursday post.
After getting this finished and sent-off, I got the summons to the Porcelain Throne, a little later than usual. All good though!
Did the Health Checks.
The ailments seemed to be a kind to me. Even Duodenal Donald was in a good mood this morning.
Hippy Hilda too, Reflux Roger, Hernia Harry, and Craig Cramps. By gum, all this was nice. But somehow it also concerned me.
I did the Morrison order for next week.
0700hrs: I started to update this blog.
I went to make a replacement mug of tea for the one that I’d let go cold.
As I took this picture, it dawned on me that the shadows from the new build block are going to have an adiaphorous effect on flora and fauna across the road; by preventing the sunshine getting to them. Poor things!
Closed down the computer at this stage, and got the ablutions tended to. All done, and out to the Oberfeldwebeless Wardens Deana and Julies, Hauptgeschäftsstelle hut.
The wind was a lot sharper this morning. Had a walk around the back of Woodthorpe Court to take this photograph
This show you how busy and such a lot more work they have to do yet.
Got to the HQ shed, and had a good natter with those in there also waiting for the bus to arrive. Cyndy, Roy, and Welsh Bill amongst them. When the coaches came, I mounted up and sat in front of Cyndy, bless her cotton socks, she helped a chap from Winchester Court to get on the bus. ♥
Dropped off on Queen Street and hobbled straight down to the slab square and caught a tram to the Asda store in Radford. As I arrived on the platform, the transport got there seconds later!
I’d gone to Radford Road Asda (Walmart) to search specifically for some Nordic Style Boczek Polish cooked bacon with herbs, (Which is so flavoursome one can become addicted) Their own label BBQ Sauce (Which tastes marvellous!), and their seasoned sliced potatoes.
I got a new ailment come on around this time. I don’t know if it is connected with Reflux Roger, but when I breathe in sharply or deeply, I’m getting one heck of a sharp pain on the left side under the arm and chest? Of course, Roger Reflux was playing up at the same time, so there are plenty of sharp intakes of breath! This, I do not like, and it has stayed with me all day.
I had a lot of luck shopping today in Walmart, though, I got all three of the things I went there for; And a small fresh turnip, sliced onions, baby yellow peppers and some suitable nibbles on special offer. £13.23 spent at the self-serve checkout, where the assistant only had to help me out once. Smug Mode Adopted, Hehe!
I walked to the tram stop opposite the closed-down Church, and the tram arrived within seconds. Doing well here!
Talk about ‘à l’opposé du spectre,’ compared to the almost empty transport from town, this one was cram-packed! It got even worse when the tram got to the university stop. I thought this amount of people might cause the tram to break-down! I gauged there must have been around 400 passengers on it at one time. It was such an event, I wanted to photograph the mob of Nottinghamian’s with their mobile phones, but there was not room enough for me get the camera out of my pocket!
By the time I’d got my camera out, the alighting passengers had scattered.
The tram is pulling out in this photo.
I’d made a mess of the timing, and had got 55 minutes before the next L9 bus was due to lift me home.
Another , really here. Because it meant I decided to call in the Poundland shop. Then, I stupidly spent even more, in buying a case for the new Lumix! Tsk!
What appeared to be a visiting family group in the Slab Square, they sounded Polish to me, were enjoying themselves taking photographs of each other. They were keeping alert and looking closely at everyone that went near them; So I assume they had been warned about the Nottinghamian’s little habits, like pickpocketing, mugging, etc. and wanted to make sure no one stole their camera, perhaps? As I got near, I gave them a smile and a thumbs-up. They returned a big smile and their own thumbs up. A man who was with them said: “Thanks gadgie, they divvin’ speak any English.” This gentleman spoke with a Geordie accent. (I think?)
I continued with my superfluouscity of spending pointlessly and relinquished any odd bits of common sense still lingering within my mind, and went to the Poundland Shop for another bout of spending on supererogatory foods. I ended up buying six packets of stuff for the nibble-box, and two packs of biscuits for myself (Rich shortcake and a Lemon cream cheesecake ). Also two fresh-air sprays. £7 spent.
But, I did manage to operate the self-serve till without any help needed. Double-Smug Mode Adopted Hehe!
Still, some time to kill, so I limped over the square and along Long Row and left up Clumber Street, and foolishly called in the Jessops Camera store.
Came out £19 worse off and so annoyed with me! £19, for flipping canvas camera case, Cor Blimey. Worra Schlemiel!
I paid while resisting bursting into tears and hitting myself.
I meandered to Queen Street, avoiding the Nottingham Pavement Cyclist.
On Parliament Street, I spotted two Nottingham City Police cars, with the officers chatting to a bloke on the pavement and laughing. I was suspicious as both officers gave me a look of contempt. Why?
Caught the bus, not many on it this trip, and no one that I knew. I feel sure I would have fallen asleep, but for the Jame Hunt inspired bus driver clogging it a bit.
I did try to do a crossword, but the book pages fell apart. Humph!
I fought against nodding off all the way after that but was successful. When I got off the bus, I popped into the Hauptgeschäftsstelless Wardens/Social cabin, to see if the wonderfully priced £3 two-course meal was going ahead or not. As it was dead on time, for the start time. I opened the door, and two volunteers who were providing the meal were talking to the tenants who were sat with the cutlery all laid out on the tables.
The looks I got from them all was not encouraging or welcoming – So I walked through and out the door at the other end. £3 lost here. No problem though, it goes to the Scouts, I have no problem with this. But if someone had told me it was going ahead, I would not have gone out to spend even more money, would I? Anyway, I wasn’t too bothered, as I planned to have seasoned potatoes and salad later, with Pork Knuckle. Yum!
As I plodded back to the apartments, I could see the Willmott Dixon lads working in one of the hoists. It looked to me like they had finished, or were finishing off the insulating on that particular wall.
I turned back to take a snap of the workmen doing Winchester Court updating.
Looks like they were doing the balcony doors.
The pains in the chest underarm were a bit persistent still.
As I got in the foyer doors, Doris, my neighbour, joined me in the lift. Nice lady! We had a good nattering session, and she noticed me suffering from the breathing heavy. Told me to knock on her door anytime if I need help. I thanked her and went in the flat.
Did the Health Checks and took an extra painkiller, had a wee-wee and the chest still giving out unexpected kicks, it is now doing it when I am breathing normally?
I wish I knew what was causing this.
Took a shot of the camera bag I hung on the window handles. As you can see, there is still no precipitation, despite it being forecast for this evening.
Got the kettle on and took a look outside. The poor whoever it is, in the white care was up and down, up and down searching for a parking space.
I put the fodder away and got the oven on to do the seasoned sliced potatoes later.
I started to update this page. By golly, it took me hours to get as far as this. The lack of concentration was helping me to make more syntactic and morphological mistakes than I have ever done before in one sitting.
Did the Health Checks, the sphygmomanometer needing four attempts to get it to operate for me.
Then I got the seasoned sliced potatoes; that had been in the tray getting dried out now, for hours, into the oven at last.
Got the nosh prepared.
The nosh was a little large, and I left a lot of I but enjoyed the bits I ate. The pork knuckle, Aldi hard cheddar, and yellow tomato sandwich were all tasty.
I think the new stabbing pains may be linked to the back pains of late. I started to get both back and arm/chest pains now. Maybe its a development of some sort from Anne Gyna? This always happens at the weekend when no Doctor to ring.
I did the washing up and had a wee-wee.
Settled in the recliner and put the TV on. But sleep took an aeon to arrive, and tornmenting dreams arrived to really get my goat; cause I could not remember any details about them. Only a perception that were of a very frustrating nature or theme.
Maltese: Il-Ħamis 10 ta ‘Mejju 2018
0325hrs: Duodenal Donald greeted me on waking up. No signs of nocturnal nibbling or somnambulation found. No pandiculating risked. I waited for the brain to engage with the limbs, and extracted my body-mass from the £300 second-hand recliner and off for a wee-wee; A long wee-wee.
Got the Health Checks done.
Then I guzzled endless amounts of the unfructuous antacid medicine, and took an extra Codeine 30g with the morning doses, to try to counter the nagging pains emanating from Dangerous Duodenal Donald. Hehe!
The readings looked all good to me.
Back to the wet room for another wee-wee of long duration.
Outside was wet from the obviously heavy rain during the night. But only the odd spot or two was falling now.
I remembered the Morrison order was due for delivery twixt 0600 > 0700hrs.
So I got the computer on and updated the Wednesday diary. This took me up to 0430hrs. When I made a start on this blog and did the comments, and then did some WordPress Reader reading.
0440hrs: Started the ablutionalisationalistic activities. Being so early and not wanting to disturb my neighbours, I had a stand-up bath at the sink. Medicationalisationing attended to. Bit of a long job sorting out the fungal lesion, Tsk!
0545hrs: All done. Got the nibble box and raffle prizes in the bag and made a brew-up.
Went on Facebooking to catch up a bit, before the Morrison delivery arrives.
Hello, Morrisons, he’s here.
Very disappointed in myself. I got the order wrong and received several items I did not want. Chocolate Coconut Cups, Morski Cheese block, a giant bag of Kettle’s Crisps and a jar of Onion Chutney? What an Eizel!
The dried lemon-grass in a jar arrived, though.
I’m making a stew or soup of some sort today for my nosh.
I prepared it all and got it cooking in the crock-pot. Chopped some turnips, sliced some mini tomatoes and red onion, cut up some beef; and added it all to the tomato and mushroom cooking sauce. For flavouring, I tried Caramelised gravy, onion salt, Balsamic Vinegar and a stick of the lemon-grass. No idea what it will all taste like, but here goes. Haha! I put the slow cooker on Auto-setting.
Put the grocery things away, and readied the black and recycling bags to go to the chute when I go out, and collected the empty glass containers, bottles and jars and washed them ready to take to the bin on the way to the Social Hour.
I managed with little or no effort, to knock the just cleaned Balsamic vinegar bottle off of the counter. It bounced on the floor, coming back down from the rebound on one if the black bags waiting to go out, spun off as it landed, rolled into the cupboard bottom and stopped near the refuse sack – and – It did not break! Hows that then? A bit of luck! Now I’m worried about what will happen when fate gets its revenge on me for this little bit of good fortune! Hahaha! No need to quaeritate about this happening later, it always does to me!
Made sure I’d got the nibble box, raffle prizes and in one bag, the glass in another, and the waste and recycling ones, too. Blimey, It looks like I’m going on holiday instead of to a Social Hour. Hehe!
Set out, took the waste to the chute, down in the lift and dropped the glass in the recycle bin as I left the flats.
There was a brisk breeze in the air as I set off walking down Chestnut Way to the temporary Hauptsturmführeressess HQ and Social shed. It was not cold in the least.
The Willmott Dixon lads were busy working away, especially on the new centre block of 44 Extra Care units and Warden’s HQ.
The plant machinery was milling around. Other than these activities, there was little in the way of any human life or observable movement.
The mind trundled off into a derestrict thinking mode. By the time I arrived at the hut, I was in a confused state and found it hard to concentrate on anything, and in a niggly mood for whatever reason.
Had a natter or two: well a few words with Jenny, Cyndy, Mo, Frank, John, Doris and William and BJ.
Put the prizes on the trolley for the raffle. Bought two tickets. Took the nibbles around, then gave out the raffle numbers and settled on a seat and got the crossword book out. With the help of BJ and John, we got a few more answers in, but not many.
The hour was soon all over. As I left, I took these p[hotographs of the flats.
The new centre build is a lot larger in real-life than it appears on the blueprints and various posters and signboards.
I could hear the lads inside the compound grafting away.
Then took a zoomed-in shot of the chaps doing the dirty great large sign-support preparations on the side of the Woodthorpe Court block.
Cyndy, Doris and John caught up with me before I got there, and we all moved into the elevator. Cyndy organised who lived on which floor and got us inside in order.
I got in and had a wee-wee.
Then as I emptied the bag, I realised I had not given Cyndy the shower-gel I promised I would last week. So I took it up to her and Eric’s flat on the fifteenth floor. I was invited in to view their new curtains. They do look good the way they have laid them out, I must say.
Said my thanks and cheerios and came back down to 72.
Did the Health Checks, made a brew and got the computer on to update this post.
A Willmot Dixon chap arrived to do the board at the bottom of the bay inner window, and to put one over the gaping hole on the left hand of the frame of the balcony doors. Glad I didn’t go out now.
I pointed out the other needs, and he phoned into his boss, and this got some attention quickly, bless him.
Five minutes later another young chap arrived to see to the kitchen vent.
This is how it looked after he had tended to it and left.
Ten minutes later the plasterer arrived to do the missed off on his last visit holes around the kitchen window.
I worked on this diary while they were all grafting away.
The kitchen man I didn’t see again, but I wasn’t looking for him.
The plastic chap explained that they would not be doing the bottom pelmet repairs because Nottingham City Homes had refused to pay for it to be done. I asked him if this was because it was Willmott Dixon men that broke them in the first place? He wisely did not give me a direct answer. Nice lad. Below is a before and after photo of the damaged pelmet.
They all worked away swiftly. Soon the plastic lad departed, offering his farewells.
I started to clean up after their correctionalisational visit to get my apartment sorted out.
Then the plasterer bloke shouted through to me that he was all done and leaving as well. He left a far less hole-filled scene for me bless him. And he filled in the holes in the lower wall from where they moved the storage heater, I thank you.
All three departed within minutes of each other – it felt lonely in the flat suddenly. Hehehe!
Within minutes of their leaving, I checked the hotchpotch in the crock-pot. It was almost ready.
I updated this post up to here, then got on with the Health Checks and got the stew, casserole whatever it should be called, served up.
Feeling tired now.
An equal best-ever rating for ‘Taste & Enjoyment, of 9.45/10 was given for this meal.
Got the pots washed up, did the last checks and got down in the £300 second-hand recliner.
No visits from Dizzy Dennis this evening, however, Colin Cramps gave me some bother in the left hand, contorting, twisting and hurting the poor fingers for a good while.
Turned on the TV, to watch a Heartbeat episode. I nodded off expeditiously and appeared to go straight into a dream, that seemed to last for days! I was in an underground cave, wearing only underpants and bright coloured underpants and socks. Searching for my hearing aids. There were pipeworks in some of the caves, and I never did find the hearing aid, but did get lost. I can’t say it was a scary nightmare, but it seemed to drag on forever and, I reckon I said to myself in it, “I’m fed-up with this dream, boring… please let me wake up before I die of boredom…”, or words to that effect.
When I did wake up with a start, only a few minutes had passed?
I scribbled some notes down about this dream and nodded off again.