Tag: Graphicationalisationing

Inchcocksi – Thursday 6th February 2020: Turned out a 20-hour day!

2020 Feb 06
We’ve been hornswoggled by the Brexit farce!

Thursday 6th February 2020

Afrikaans: Donderdag 6 Februarie 2020

01:55hrs: Cripes, the Hum is intrusive this morning! When I woke and heard the noise, I was confident that something was amiss, surely this can’t be the Hum? I extracted my bulbous, wobbly, stomach-ladened body from the £300 second-hand recliner, and checked around the flat, only to find that the driving-me-mad Hum was indeed causing the noise! Humph! 

Still, I’m glad I got up, cause the sudden urgent need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so off to the wet room I poddled. Taking care to leave the four-pronged stick well away from where I might trip over it, I got seated. This time things were different, back to the half-way and suffer mode of evacuation.

Which gave me time to have a mind-wander. But it wasn’t a pleasant experience, all my faults, worries and problems stormed into the brain, rattled about almost mocking me, and then as the evacuation got a bit more movement and agony replaced the pain, the thoughts left me, thank heavens. Hell of struggle, but I rid myself of the products, a little bleeding, but not messy.

At least Little Inchies fungal lesion was only trickling a few drops. The legs had got more colour and veins showing than yesterday. Arthur Itis’s knees were tight, a sign of suffering to come that is. I got cleaned-up, medicated plenty of the Phorpain gel rubbed into the joints. I’m not sure it actually does any good, but the Doctor says the massaging it in can do no harm.

Then, off to the kitchen. Where I got the kettle on, took the medications, made the tea and took a photographicalisation of the morning view, with the moon on show. Not a bad result, I took it in Night Landscape mode. I’ve put it on large here, not too bad an effort. (He says smugly. Haha!)

To the computer, and set to updating the Wednesday post. Nicodemus Neurotransmitters were not playing up much at all. That was a pleasant divergence from the norm, which I took advantage of, and had got the whole thing finished of (not many photos) in record time before they kicked off again. Also, I struggled to read my own writing. Fleeting Satisfied Mode! 

The mist was clearing now. Sent off the blog, then went on the Emails to see what was what. One from the Haemostasis, TV (Thread Vein) and DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) Warfarin Anticoagulation Clinic at the Nottingham City Hospital (I do like that mouthful of a title!). From the lady who rang me last night. Her name is Debby. So now, I have the address to use to update her about the Doctors visit. There was no reply to my earlier request for an appointment or any INR results?

So I sent another email and request. Then I checked the progress of the saucepans I’ve got coming today (another day stuck indoor!) on the tracker system.


Not arrived at the distribution area yet, so I don’t know when to expect them to arrive, latish I should think. I hope the Falls-Team lady comes early, then at least I can get some stuff to the waste-chute and down to the recycling bin.

On to the TFZer Facebooking next.

Virgin Down completely now. (I’ve typed this so often, the fingers did it on their own! – Chuckle!) Today is the upgrading session, mark day 2  for Global-Liberty (Lousy) Virgin Media Internet workers. So, I half-expected things to go down.

– The Stand-up Ablutions were tackled:

Dropsies were galore! Too many. Then, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, went into turbo-drive for a few minutes, just when I was shaving. I must say, had the farce been filmed, it may well have been an award winner at the British Comedy Awards! Even I would have laughed out loud at it; just imagining it brings a smile to my face!

The razor flew to my left, falling in the tray of cleaning stuff, I grabbed at it when it landed and knocked the shaving foam from the tray. I bent down to retrieve it, razor still in hand, it (the foam) was then propelled by Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley in the other direction, where it hit the ground cupboard top, removing various, nay, nearly all of the medical tubes down the back of the cupboard! Savlon, Daktacort, Haemorrhoid cream and my emergency supply of Co-Codamols! All bar the haemorrhoid cream, which was needed for use, the others are still down there somewhere, I’ll get them later. Harrumph!

Somehow, I’d cut the back of my hand as well! Only the tiniest of cuts, but it took some stopping, I used the aftershave, that did it; it stung a bit, mind! Then, after cleaning things up, the farce of the disappearing razor?

I’ll have another search when I go to pick up the things behind the floor-cupboard. Sigh!

I had a ring of Josie’s door chimes on the way out with the rubbish bags. No answer. So, in the elevator and down with the giant-bag of rubbish. Left it near Stew’s door. Then took a photo of the Information Panel, and nipped in the lobby area, to take some pictures.

Laundry Room
Lobby
Lift lobby

Back up to the apartment. Tried Josie’s door again, no answer. Got in and got the kettle on. I tried the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, but no go, still down. So, I don’t know if I’ve had any reply from the surgery about the appointment, or the Warfarin INR level, and cannot check on the saucepans progress. Hey-Ho!

Sob!

– I  thought I’d take the picker-upperer with me to get the knocked over things from the wet room… Huh! I had an involuntary (on my part!), Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance from the affected right leg, I managed to prevent myself going over, but unfortunately, it was so quick, I thought I’d got the stick with me, and used the picker to stop myself falling – it broke in half! Thankfully, I only fell against the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner! So, another picker-upperer bites the dust! RIP. Grangle-Grumps!

I really am back to enduring my usual luck again! Thanks mainly to the Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, and Stroke Stuart! At least the dance only lasted a few seconds this time.

It’s such a shame that I didn’t realise that today was when Liberty-Global was going to fail again to improve their pitiable, wretched, internet service. Then, I would have not ordered the saucepans for today. There lie’s more reasons and proof that my systematic, massive misfortunes having returned to torture, annoy, bother and piss-me-off again!

I went to try Josie’s door again, Aha! She answered! I showed her the tin of Tuna flakes with Coronation dressing, and she fancied on her Sunday lunch. So, it shall be! I hobbled to the fridge to get a can of Daniels and coke and took it for her. Well, it’s a treat, although no doubt she’d prefer the Daniels neat. Hahaha!
The Internet was still down. I wrote things down on Word, to use later. Took me a while to get it written, and as I got up to here, my door chimes rang out, to my chosen tune of Dusty Springfield’s ♫ I only want to be with you ♫, it was the Amazon delivery with the saucepans.

I checked them to see if they were made-up, or I’d have to get some help if they need assembling.

Here are the new ones, with the semi-new Crockpots behind

They were all made-up. so that was nice! I put the new frying pan in the trolley-guide bag, I’d decided to give it to the volunteers at the Social Kitchen to use. Got wrapped up warmly, and ventured out. Down in the elevator, through the link-passage, into Winwood Court, I met Angie and Roy at the foyer door, they were buying some stuff early from the bread and veg man, then catching a taxi.

Then into the big social lounge, where some residents were finishing off their Friday breakfasts. I was in a bit of a rush in case the bus came early, so I went straight to the kitchen opening window, cause they do not like my three-wheeler near the food, a lady came behind me and told me not to stand there, cause she’s trying to serve people! Fair enough, I shoved the brand new pan in her hand and told her “Here, you can have this!” The good feeling of my doing something to help, drained from me. I walked out through the Winwood foyer door and made my way to the bus shelter.

Feeling a tad miffed, but more hurt, after the pain, effort and cost, I thought I was doing something worthwhile and helpful, and the idea made me feel good.  I can understand really. But as I get older, I seem to get hurt easier. No more freebies or help for them then in future. I was just trying to help out at the new kitchen volunteers, for the third time. In my current state of mind, and struggling to do everyday things, but still trying to help others, I can do without being depreciated. But bless them all for volunteering, I hope they can get some enjoyment from it.

I’m sorry Jenny was not in and wish the ILC’s had been in the office now, they could have been offered the brand-new just delivered frying pan.

I brought my spirits up a tad, by taking some photographs of Winwood Heights from the L9 bus shelter.

The bus turning Circle, cars blocking it as usual. But what choice do they have?
Ah, Angela and Roy leaving in their taxi!

I got on the bus, and out came the crossword book. I did well en route to town on the puzzles today. Swank-Mode-Adopted.

In town, I called into the Poundland Shop. Got some bits: A cheap kitchen roll, cause I’d forgotten to put one in the bag for nose-blowing use. Lavender Dettol disinfectant. Orange Kit-Kat, and some nuts.

I had a walk around, Parliament Street, Clumber Street, Long Row, Slab Square and on to Queen Street for the bus home. I’ll not put all the photographicalisation I took on here, cause there was fair lot them, I’ll do a Trip to Nottingham Special in another post with them all on.

I caught the bus back, and Bill (William on Sundays) got on further along the route. With us both being hard-of-hearing, the conversation was strained. Haha!

Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley was going at it on and off, and it made me feel like others were keeping an eye on the old man in the side-saddle seat. Hahaha!

I like Bill, a grand chap. Back at the flats, Bill held the door open for me to Winchester Court. We parted wishing each other all the bestest, and a smile. The only person I spoke to, was Herbert (Big John), doing his jigsaw puzzle in the big lounge, he’s good at them. I threw him a “Good Afternoon, you all right?” as I passed. But saw no one else, although there were a few folks about, I was not conversant with them. (Didn’t know them!)

I got up in the flat, no wee-weeing needed! I moved the mushrooms into a saucepan from the slow-cooker with the garden peas and got the new big pan filled with water for the boil-in-the-bag beef and gravy later.

I got on the computer, and Hey Presto! it was back on! Ooh, that did please me!

I go on with updating this blog, and before I knew it, the time was gone 17:00hrs!

It was getting misty outside.

I got on with creating the visit to Nottingham post. By the time I got it made and posted, I’d been up for over 18hrs! I think I’ll get the nosh done and head down next. I turned off the computer, and in a state of ultra-weariness, battled to keep my concentration as I prepared the stew.

18:55hrs: I took this snap of the evening sky, the horizon looked rather nice to me.

The new casserole saucepan was used to heat up the beef and gravy with onions. Despite my being too drained and over-ready for a kip, I ate it all with some milk bread to soak up the gravy. Hmm! Flavour Rating; 8.2/10 tonight.

I got the pots in the washing-up bowl to soak. Took another shot of the evening sky, and had a wee-wee. Settled in 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.

Surprisingly, it took a while for sleep to come.

Inchcock (In brief): Wednesday 5th February 2020: Gruelling-Grombling-Garblisations!

Wednesday 5th February 2020

Swedish: Onsdagen 5 Februari 2020

01:15hrs: I woke with the mind doing ut own thing again, and I genuinely feared the worst. Yet, within a few minutes, I was battling out of the £300 second-hand recliner, had urged and forced my misshaped, wobbly mass of a body onto its feet, and did few moves, bends and wriggles to test out the ailments, and was in recent form, I thought, anyway.

Arthur Itis and Saccades-Sandra apart. All the other indispositions, discombobulations ailments and infirmities, were friendly and calm with me. Naturally, this did not last for too long. AS I moved towards the kitchen, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. (Back to normal, which is not a bad thing). So, I diverted, and within about ten paces, I was in the wet room. Bearing in mind yesterdays farcical Whoopsiedangleplop, I made sure that the stick was not left anywhere I trip over it, this time.

The evacuation almost had me cheering! It was that good! Not too big, not painful at all! And hardly any effort needed. No getting half-way and needing painful encouragement. And not messy! As I stood to do the necessary ‘paperwork’, I found there was no bleeding from the rear either!

Then I saw the drips of blood on the floor. I knew straight away, it had to be from Little Inchies fungal lesion, and it was. Heck of a state to medicate and clean.

To the kitchen and took some Moon photos.

I made some tea and took the medications. Then got the updating of the blog done. The saving was failing a few times, but this time, I thought it might be a WordPress problem? The updating took ages, mostly through having to keep stopping for Saccases-Sandra to clear. Many hours after starting, I got it finished. Phew!

08:00hrs, I went on the WordPress Reader. Then on the TFZer Facebooking. Time is my most significant bother nowadays. It takes so long to get anything done, my lack of mobility, the Neurotransmitters dying, the brain struggles to hold information, and physical activity takes so much time and is painful sometimes. The mind and body are reaching my capability and copeability level methinks.

After which, I spent many more hours on graphicationalising. Everything was taking so long to get done, with Sandra playing up, but at least the Fungal lesion didn’t open up again.

Eventually, I got started on this post. The time flew by. I went to see Josie, to check with her that she would like the Tuna with Coronation mayonnaise. But she was not in. I did some more graphicalisationing.

I ought to get the ablutions done, it’ so late now, head-down time is due.

I’d been doing the bit of cooking needed in-between computer work while Sandra was in a bad mood with me. The day has magically almost gone?

I turned everything off and got the ablutions tended to. I called on Josie again first, while I’d got clothes on. No answer again.

The legs looked a bit different again, but not bad at all. I decided to stop and get the handwashing done first, then I can Josie again before getting the ablutions done. The washing completed, and off to the wet room. Called on Josie, no luck.

The ablutions produced many dropsies. No proper Whoopsies, though. Another call on Josie, no luck. I checked on the Special tomatoes. I shan’t be eating them today.

Then got another silly idea, I could order some saucepans from Amazon. So I did. Coming tomorrow. So, another day indoors.

Got the nosh prepared and served up. I got settled in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, got the TV on.

As I was taking the first fork of food, the phone flashed into life. Unbelievable, the times this happens!
It was the Haemostasis, TV (Thread Vein) and DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) Warfarin Anticoagulation Clinic at the Nottingham City Hospital. A very kind lady, asking about my problems, questioning me on various things, in an effort to understand why Warfarin levels were so unsteady. It was lovely to have someone to talk to about medical issues. Especially being as pleasant and patient with me as this lady was. The conversation kept getting broken up by my having to ask her to repeat things I didn’t pick-up, again she was alright and unbothered by this. Bless Her! She will send me an Email with her address on, so I have it and can message her with the results of the Doctors meeting and any changes of importance. I felt honoured and well cared for.

Back to the stone-cold meal, not that there was much to harm. Only the mushrooms, garden peas and potatoes were heated anyway.

Although cold, I still enjoyed it. Smashing! A taste rating of 8/10. Perhaps the joy of speaking to someone who understood and sympathised had put me on a high? But sleep was again late in coming, although the Thought-Storms kept off.

Inchcockski: Tue 4 Feb 2020: A day of poignance, befuddlement, haphazard, amnesia, confusion, and Grumpworthiness! 

Tuesday 4th February 2020

Esperanto: Marde la 4 de Februaro 2020

00:55hrs: Woke up feeling as if I had no sleep at all, I lay there for ages, uhtceare and heavy eyelids. The need for a wee-wee proved to be my expergefactor. Almost wearily, I forced my heavily-stomached body from the recliner. And was well-pleased when I found that Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun were no longer in attendance. (Oh, yes, I was most approbatory about this!)

I used the untouched-overnight GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and I was taken aback by the power of the flow at first, but it faded to a trickle shortly. SFDBFF (Started-Firm-Determined-But-Faded-Fast) style. Then, I was hobbling off to the kitchen, where I took the medications, made a brew and passed wind. It was only a silent tiny phwert, but boy, the pong it left!

Feeling much better now, life was returning to the brain, and physically I was doing well. Mmm, apart from the Neurotransmitters failing a few times, I was lucky not to drop the tea-caddy, then the kettle. This is going to be a problem when I start typing on the computer. But no complaints, qualms or expostulations from me. After yesterdays horrendous events, I just appreciated being here, and the absence of so many ‘usual’ ailments. Yee-ha!

I went to move the tomato-slicer from the tea-brewing area, and soon found how bad Nicodemus-neurotransmitter was today, and the slicer slipped from my grasp. I automatically and foolishly made a grasp for it to stop it hitting the deck. I caught it. The serrated edges of the blades drew blood. A good job I have a stock of plasters in the medical drawer, Tsk! Klutz!

I took two shots of the high in the sky moon. I used the Night Landscape option for them.

Unfortunately, when the nerve-ends transmitters let me down again, I lost my grip on the camera. Mercifully, I had adopted a habit of always using the hand strap with the photographicalising, and this saved the day and possible damage to the Nikon. Phew!

Yet again the nerves failed, when I was putting the lid back on the tea caddy. The result was a scattering of tea bags that was made worse by my failing to catch it properly, knocking it away from me. Which sent Glengettie tea-bags over the floor and between the cooker and cupboard! I fetched good picker-upperer from the front room and attached it to the four-pronged walking stick back to the kitchen. I nearly went head over heels on the way through the door, as I caught my dodgy right knee against the bulky load I was carrying. Dizzy Dennis came into force.

Now I was really getting back to normal! Bleeding, in pain, well-dizzied, pissed-off, and silently offering forth a selection of expletives and traducements, regarding my foul luck and many ailments! Yes, my run of fair-fortunes and luck has ended! Crying was an option at this stage, but my experience of its futility prevented my sobbing or committing suicide. Hehehe! But I was getting a little discouraged with events so far this morning. Yet a feeling of normality blossomed, and amazingly I cast off the shadow, cheered up, made another mug of tea, and got on the computer straight away. Mainly to scribble notes to use later in this diary, while the thoughts were fresh in my mind. Which I did!

Then I got the updating of the Monday post done and posted off.

I’ve had better starts to a day! But hopes linger!

I added some bits to Pinterest, then spend an age on the TFZer Facebooking. But I enjoyed it. Mr Fries Virgin Media started and stayed playing up again. Spitworthy-Splurging-Sparrowhawks! Then went to make another brew of tea, gingerly, carefully and cautiously I might add. (Ha-ha!)

Then went on the WordPress Reader.

Well, I must stop now and get the ablutions done. Iceland delivery (Oh, fear of daft substitutions comes to mind!), then my precious sweet vampire Christina is calling to take my blood later. I put the handwashing in the bowl to soak before doing the cleansing of my ailment-ridden, torturously overburdened-bellied body-mass. Then off for the stand-up, cause it’s too early to make a noise with the shower.

Well, it didn’t take long before the first cock-up, did it? I got the shaving done first (one nick on the cheek) for a change.

As I stood back from the sink, I caught the four-pronged stick, fell backwards and clouted the side of my head and cheek against the dreaded sock-glide on my way to visit the rather hard floor” The sock-glide is now bent a bit! So are my elbow, knees and confidence, that was caused by the landing, not the glide! Grungle-Grumps!

The legs looked betterer this morning, though, less palish. Just noticed how I put the two photos together, at least I’m hiding the worst bits of my body, Hahaha! The teeth-cleaning went well, only one dropsy; the brush. The flannel once, and the carbolic soap. The refreshing and medicating afterwards; dropped the Haemorrhoid cream tube, olive oil bottle, then the body, spray (twice).

Got dried-off, and dressed, off to get the handwashing done. The Iceland deliveryman cometh. He kindly threw the bags into the kitchen for me, and I sorted out what was what. Or, not! I’m already looking forward to having the braised steak in onion gravy, the taste is fine, the main advantage is they are boil-in-the-bag, less chance of burning when… if, I fall asleep, no sauce to make either, so less washing up to do. Little things like this, mean a lot when you’re disabled and a bald, deaf, hard-of-seeing, overly-flobby-stomached, short, memory-tested, bespectacled, saccades-suffering septuagenarian! I lost the plot there again!

No substitutes! Some expertly squashed sliced wholemeal cobs, that I managed to return to something like their original shape. Some short-date satays, beef slices and pork & pickle pies. Got the canned goods, baked beans and tubers in the farraginous cupboard with the other stuff. To eat the short date products with time, might include me becoming even more overweight. Haha!

If only Christina comes early, I can get out to buy a replacement saucepan and something else, but I can’t remember what it was at the moment. I took some black bags to the waste chute. Then started to work on the graphic making on CorelDraw.

Tap-tap, bang from the electricians. The ‘Hum’ getting even louder. And it looks like Christina will not arrive in time for me get any shopping for saucepans and whatever the other thing is that I need. Most agravannoying!

Phlebotomy nurse vampire, the super-beautiful and highly desirable Christina arrived, a little earlier than expected. So, I might be able to catch the 10:30hrs bus to go and get some saucepans to replace those I’ve burned! Haha! She took the blood in her usual professional way, no bleeding from the vein, as usual (Oh she is good, and pulchritudinously, alluring, angelic, appealing, beauteous, charming, bewitching, and gorgeously pretty with it). She warned me of the oh, so cold weather outside. If only I was fifty-odd years younger, fitter, had hair, no ailments… Dream on Inchcock! Hahaha! Christina departed, sadly in her usual rush, bless her.

Recycle bags were made up, two large ones, and I got dressed and things ready to go for the bus. I remembered to take the bag of spuds I’d ordered by mistake from Iceland, to give to someone who could use them, it had enough potatoes in it for a meal for ten people!

You should have seen me struggling with the three-wheeled guide trolley and the two massive bags of waste for recycling! Getting out of the lift, I caught one bag against the door frame, dropped it, hit my head on the wall bending to retrieve it, gathered everything and then I saw a bloke waiting to get in the lift – if an expression ever spoke, his did! “What is this old fart messing about at!” He never spoke, he didn’t need to. I got the bags to the caretaker’s room, then on to the Wardens Detention and body-search Office, dropped the potato bag off, and walked to the Winwood Court Social Room and had a go at the crossword book. But the concentration was not good, I think my trying to make u[p my mind where to go for to buy the saucepans was bothering my dithering mind, so I hobbled through to the Winchester Court lobby.

Where I spotted something, I did not expect on the table there. A copy of the Financial Times Money paper! 

Winchester Court: Lift lobby
Outside Winchester Court: The old style Letter Box

I went out to the bus stop and took some more photographicalisations of Winwood Heights. I kept walking about to keep warm, gosh, it was nippy out there, and very windy with it!

Winchester Court
Winchester Court
Winwood Heights, from the bus stop

AS more residents joined me at the shelter, the main topic of discord this morning, was the vehicles blocking the turning circle for the buses and emergency vehicles. I said nowt, but felt the workers had no other choice, as no parking spaces were available for them to use? Difficult situation.

Caught the bus with about twelve other tenants, who all got off in Sherwood. I decided in route, to go to Sainsbury’s in Daybrook to look for saucepans and get some nosh in. As I got off of the bus, Dizzy Dennis came on, but not badly, but it slowed me up and did my concentration no good. A few hazy bits in my memory of the visit. I do remember getting a cling-film wrapped set of three saucepans, all ready-made up (handles and lids not loose). Which was glad-making for me. It was the last on the shelves, too! I recall struggling to get around carrying it and coping with the walker-guide and getting things off of the shelves to buy.

I spent £18.60 in total, paid at the self-serve tills. Then, as I was going for the bus home, it dawned on me, I had not got the saucepans! I stopped near the exit doors and checked the receipt… no, I hadn’t paid for them anyway!  What I had done with them remains a mystery. Did I leave them somewhere in the shop, or at the checkout? Ay-yay-yay! What an Eizel!

I caught the bus back to the flats. No doubt about it, Arthur Itis is going to start giving me trouble again. The occasional short sharp stabbing pains behind the knees, not often, were the clues and signs.

Back at Winwood Heights, I made my way to Winwood Court and through the link passage. I thought I was doing well, Chrissie and Betty overtook me, then, further along, two other ladies overtook me. Leaving me in their wake, so’s to speak. Hehehe! All four of them, pleasant ladies.

Over the next few hours, I took these pictures on the right of the page, of the sky from the unwanted, unneeded, unpopular, light and view-blocking, unable to get at to clean, photographers nightmare kitchen window.

Arthur Itis reminded me of what’s to come a few times.

I took the medications straight away so as not to forget. The thermometer is still not working properly. It just shows High or Low, no actual temperature levels at all? Puzzling that, it used to show details every time, but no longer! I suppose that I have pressed or set it up wrong during one of my dreaded and feared, confusing ‘Out-of-it’ spells? This thought got me pondering: If I snuff it during a ‘Blank’ spell, will I die not knowing I’d kicked-the-bucket? Would that be better than knowing at the time? Does it matter? Hehehe!

The things that sometimes permeate through and hassle my brain; I don’t mean the usual brain-storms, but these odd moments of pointless reflections, can be entertaining, but not until after they’ve been tackled or considered.

I got the kettle on, and stuff purchased put away. A cheap and a pricey washing-up liquid, distilled vinegar, baked beans, onion chutney, chilli-con-carne, Fancy flavoured Tuna for Josie’s meal next Sunday, orang biscuits, Viennese blondes, smoked almonds, Five-beans in tomato sauce, Mackerel for Josie, a bar of Galaxy chocolate, Lemon curd tarts, Milk Roll loaf, vine tomatoes, and a pack of two Italian brown Primora tomatoes. These tomatoes were not very large, but still £2 for two! I just hope they are as tasty as the ones I got last week from Ocado. Sainsbury is part of Ocado anyway, along with Waitrose.

I found this little snippet of information on Wednesday morning:

BBC News Feb 2020. Marks & Spencer and Ocado have confirmed a deal which will give the High Street retailer a home delivery service for the first time. M&S will buy a 50% share of Ocado’s retail business for £750m. The joint venture will be called Ocado and will deliver M&S grocery products from September 2020 at the latest, when Ocado’s deal with Waitrose expires. Under the deal, Ocado will also continue to supply its own-label products and big-name branded goods.

Which pleases me a lot. I cannot get to M&S in Nottingham easily. There are escalators to get down to the basement food store, which prior to the stroke, were of no problem for me. But now I have to use the elevator, which means so much more hobbling with the walker-guide to get there, and again to get out again with a full trolley.

The nosh was prepared and served up. Chicken and vine tomato Dagwood-Style sarnies, new potatoes, mushrooms, garden peas and beetroot. A lemon curd yoghourt and drink of orange cordial flavoured spring water for afters. I ate the whole lot of it! Not a scrap left on the plate!

Got the washing up done, thought about doing the handwashing, but chickened out. Then got my head down early even for me, but I was so weary. Sweet Morpheous came within minutes, ah, bliss! My worries and fears stop when I sleep… unless the nightmares start of course.

The banging on the door and ringing of the chimes woke me up! Growls of Grumpworthiness! I somehow got out of the recliner and to the door, with the brain caching me up. I was still drained and so confused. Josie was there and a big bloke with a clipboard. Then I found myself with Josie’s tray and cutlery on it, from last Sunday’s meal I’d cooked for her… then in the flat with the ID tag missing man, 6’2″, stocky, dark brown hair. I asked him (I think), Why he was checking in Water usage? He replied, ‘We want to know who has baths or showers fitted…’, but he still didn’t tell me who or where he was from! (These details I found on the scribble pad in the morning).

I was so pissed-off at being woken up, it doesn’t matter that people would not expect anyone to be sleeping so early; my rest was knackered! And getting back to sleep took me ages! Amidst swearing and spitting out words of hatred at being disturbed again!

What an odd day! A day of changeable, poignant, fragmentary, haphazard, mental bocks, absent-mindedness and confusion, and Grumpworthiness!

Inchcockski: Monday 3rd February 2020: Oh, the ailments have returned. Ah, well!

Monday 3rd February 2020

Hawaiian: Pōʻalima lā 3 Pepeluali 2020

02:20hrs: As I came back to artificial life, from my nightmare filled sleep, I could clearly hear what I thought was a steam press. Somehow I thought I was still out of it and dreaming, cause the dream was about me being stuck in a giant steam press, with people fighting over who should activate the controls? But it soon became apparent that the noise was the World of Science baffling, ‘Hum’!

I rose out the £300, second-hand, c1968, biliously-beige-coloured recliner. I hauled my pharaonically flobby-body onto its tiny by comparison, feet, caught my balance, grabbed the stick, and wobbled off to the kitchen. Arthur Itis and Anne Gyner were just not bothering me at the least?  Was I actually awake or still dreaming?

I took a photo of the blue sky. I soon found out when I all but let the kettle slip put of my hands as I went to fill it, Nancy’s neurotransmitters on the right-side were failing again. Not surprising really, cause they medics have told me they can do nothing about it. But the real reason I knew I was awake was when I stubbed my toe against the sink cupboard as I retrieved the kettle and got cold water down my dressing gown, jammies, belly, privates, legs, and feet! Ah, my run-of-the-mill, unostentatious unlucky-status seems to have returned! Just as well, cause my recent patchy run of decent luck, was alarming me a bit, I’m not used to it! To the wet room, and dried myself off and changed trews.

Then as I made a brew of Glengettie tea, it was then time for Shaking-Shoulder-Shawn to kick-off.

They came on without any warning twinges this time. I was all het-up about making the mess and having to change togs, though.

I got the medications sorted, and returned to the main room and got the computer going. The tea had gone cold, so I went to make another, and decided to open the window again, to take a picture of the housing on view outside. Many lights were on in the dwelling, that caught me out for a second. I didn’t realise the time had flown so fast. I went back to the front room, forgetting to make a mug of tea!

I made a start first on finishing off a graphic I started yesterday on CorelDraw, then began the updating of the Sun day block – Oh dear! What with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and the persistent Shaking-Shoulder- Shawn, and now Mr Fries, what is it he calls it? ‘Virgin’s Superfast Broadband?’, things were not going well at all! But then, I should be used to it by now!

Hours later, I got it finished off and went to make a brew. It was getting lighter now. But I got sidetracked my an instant demand for the Porcelain Throne to be utilised, so off to the wet room, I trudged. By gum, my usual ailments and accidents are rife. I’m confident they have returned today, after 2½ days of near-normal luck! The evacuation was solid, painful, and bloody. Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding as well!

But no more toe-stubbing at least! It’s been that long since I needed them, I had to think which of the tubes and tubs were for what ailment. Hahaha! The legs were looking somewhat paler than for a long time, but the Clopodogrel lumps and blotches were still absent, so my full-rate of bad luck hasn’t all come back yet. I had a wash-up and wiped the contact points with the antiseptic.

Visited the WordPress Reader section, TFZer Facebook page, Pinterest, and did the comments reading, well the comment. Hehe!

Then I made the brew of Thompsons tea, and back on the computer. Many repeated ‘Failed to save’ signs continued to pester me! But, it’s all part of my returning back to the regular bad-luck-in-life, I suppose. Tsk!

I worked a few more hours on this blog and decided to have a go at making another brew and have some brekkers. That was the plan anyway. Things did work out as expected, though.

I had a double-whammy of ailments come on together. Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun to start with. The worst ever bout I’ve had. I just stood there with one hand on the stick, the other on the side of the sink. Must have been there for twenty-minutes like that. Too scared to move for fear of toppling over, and then Saccades Sandra joined it as well, the room was spinning.

Should I press the wristlet alarm? I lost focus, virtually unbalanced, with very little sight. Overall it was a good half-hour before things cleared. In the past, these Dennis Dizzies and Sandra have only ever lasted for a few minutes at most. But, amazingly, they departed suddenly, within two minutes or so, and I found myself making a brew? Feeling so pleased they had stopped, everything returned to normal, sight back, no problems? This is worth mentioning to the Doctor, I think, all the same. I’ll email for an appointment later on, I reckon.

Then, as I was hobbling back with the mug of tea, I had an involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dance routine. It was all over within a minute, no falling, no hitting into or knocking anything over. Not even any spilling of the mug of tea, I got it down on the book cabinet as it started performing. I’ve had a lot of worse sessions. But I still needed to sit down for a minute or two. But was soon back up at the computer, updating this blog.

Fatima Fatigue fell upon me, big-time.

I got the nosh prepped. I’ve still not fully returned to my usual vacuous, yet tortured unrelenting state of mind. It feels all odd not fretting and panicking about anything. The return of Whoopsiedangleplopalising seems to have helped, in a distorted sort of way.

The meal, a 7.9/10 for flavour and taste, went down well. I put the things in the bowl to soak, and got settled in the recliner… but sleep was not interested in coming, despite how tired I was. Humph! Inchyangulations!

Inchcock Today: Sunday 2nd February 2020: Searched for ontosophy today – I didn’t find it!

Sunday 2nd February 2020

Welsh: Dydd Sul 2il Chwefror 2020

02:00hrs: I stirred loosely into ersatz life-mode, and the thought-box had only the urgent need for the Porcelain Throne in it! I fumbled my way out of the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, got uprightish, grabbed the walking stick, and carefully made my way to the wet-room with considerable haste. (I didn’t think of it at the time, but Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna were all once again, being kind to me!)

I panicked and blundered about, tearing off the jammies and PPs to get seated in time, and made it with barely a second to spare, and trapped my right hand between my body and the seat. Not realising the limb was stuck, until the Neurotransmitter nerves failure, was kind enough to let the brain know! By then, the evacuation had started, and I became aware of the bruised knuckles as I painfully removed the hand.

But, worse was to follow: As I struggled with the evacuation, which was proving to be a highly-reluctant, stubborn one. I heard a voice, as if on the radio? I have been known to set the timer on this radio in the past accidentally. But no, the Blaupunkt was not on?

I then thought it might be someone on the intercom, with the box being just outside the wetroom door? But with the evacuated product being half-way released and stuck, requiring more effort from me to free it, I was in a right pickle! If it was someone at the door, I knew I didn’t have much time before it automatically shuts off! So, I pushed and grunted, eventually freeing and depositing the item described above in the throne! Phew! Not without some discomfort, I can tell you!

Luckily the extracted product was not messy at all, in fact, it clunked into the water. So, no need for losing time wiping anything yet. I must find out who or what is making the squeaky voice.

I got up, clouting my ankle on the chair with the sock-glide sat there, looking smug, threatening, and contentious on it! The four-pronged walking stick utilised, and out to the hallway, but, no signs of any use of the intercom! (That is a benefit of the multi-pronged stick, you can leave it stood up, thus easier to find when you need it – and more straightforward to walk into or fall over! Hahaha!)

This mystery voice continued, sounding a little louder and more urgent, but I could not identify what it was saying, nor where it was coming from? I checked the front door, through the spy-hole, nope, nobody there?

I went into the front room, and the voice was instantly recognisable and understood, audibly! It came from the Nottingham City Homes On-Call centre: When I sat on my hand in the rush to be on-time with the evacuation, I’d pressed the alarm pendant on my wrist!

A link here for the On-call Centre advice and stories. I put it on here, so Winwoodonians can view a video, with Jenny and Frank on it! Nottingham City Homes – On-Call centre

The operator lady was kind, and patient enough with me when I told her I’d set it off by accident. Bless her! Obviously, I didn’t go into any detail about my Faux pas! Although, perhaps I should have, to highlight the problem of not hearing the voice-box when in the wet room? Then again, we are all not hard-of-hearing. Like a few of us who cannot hear the fire-alarm activation, either. That was a Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating start to the day and early morning. Worra Whoopsiedangleplop and-a-half! Tsk!

I got on with updating yesterday’s blog. I soon found that the famously unreliable and pathetic, inadequate Global-Liberty Virgin Media Internet was still causing me problems with not saving again. But I managed with a little forced never-mind-attitudinalisticalness adopted and used.

Many hours later, I got it finished. I then tended to the ablutionalisationing. I had to look decent for later on when I took Josie her Sunday nosh.

The session went absolutely marvellously! Apart from having so many dropsies, that is. All the usual ones, shaving foam, razors, toothbrush, toothpaste, carbolic soap, flannel etc., oh, and a new one today, my spectacles as I took them off!  No, bleeding, no stubbed toes, no knocking anything off of the cabinets! And the legs looked great, they’d got some colour back in them, and the Clopidogrel lumps and blotches had all but disappeared! I felt a little smugness dawn, but the early morning farcicalness with the wrist alarm somewhat tempered my rare moment of exhilaration.

Also, I felt a little choleric later, when the picture I took of the pins (legs), had gone off into the ether from SD card. Grumph! This seems to happen every now and then. A conundrum not limited to 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 spacetime continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! For, I have heard that this agravannoying loss is suffered by proper photographists who know what they are doing, as well. Which lessened my disappointment a little!

I started, what would turn out to be a marathon session on graphicationalisationing. But I to stop after an hour or two, to begin prepping Josie’s meal. It took me about an hour or so, but I got the plate on the wheelie-server, added some extras, a can of pink G&T, and a pot of vanilla cream dessert. Off and knocked on her door with it, as her official Sunday lunch chef!

She liked what she saw and thanked me. I returned to the flat, and chuffing hell, the number of pots, pans and cutlery that needed washing… then I got the smell coming from the smoked haddock in the oven, that I’d forgotten to put on the plate! What a schlemiel! I got it out, put it on a dish and took it to Josie’s, explained how I’d missed it off her plate, and hastened back to the kitchen again. I tackled the job of washing up. The cheesy potatoes tend to cling to forks, spoons and dishes, in a Gorilla glue type fashion! Humph!

It cost me a lot more time and agravannoyance in getting the cleaning done.

Back to the much-needed graphicationalisicalisationing. For many hours, but with limited effect. Thanks to the neurotransmitter sensory nerves failing again. Most frustrating.

It was getting dark now, the ‘Hum’ was the loudest it’s ever been, I was so tired, hours beyond my usual head-down time, and I was getting hungry. All-in-all, I was wearied, exhausted, and mentally fatigued. I saved wat bit of work I had done and turned the computer off. The eyelids were drooping, now. But I still recognise that the Porcelain Throne and GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket) had been little used?

I checked out the last of the stew in the saucepan and decided I could eat all of it, with some sourdough bread to soak up the gravy. I took some pictures of the blue night from the unwanted, unliked kitchen window. They came out better than I could have hoped for. Because the right side neurotransmitters were still failing at times. Here are the photos of the eerily coloured view. 

I got the meal served up on a large plastic bowl, that would hold all the gravy, with less chance of me spilling any. (It didn’t work though, Hahaha!) A sourdough baguette, and a lemon curd yoghourt for afters. I put the TV on and settled in the £300, second-hand rickety recliner, and proceeded to eat all of the meal and enjoyed it so much.

I didn’t enjoy the cleaning up of the crumbs, spilt gravy, peas, and bits of leeks up from my over-abundant belly-folds, legs, the chair and the seat, though!

Nor my doing the washing up, or rather, dropping the bowl and wetting my jammies and the floor, so more work was needed to clean things up!

I took the medications, but Neurotransmitter-Nancy cut-off, and I dropped the tablets from my grasp. I did eventually find them and clean them up to ingest. But it took me ages to find the last one, the Ramipril capsule. He’s somehow ended up many feet away from the others, and rolled under the fridge! But I got him!

The worst of this run of bad luck, was as I tried to get some sleep, the Mind-Storming started. Worries, fears, doubts, failures etc. all flowed in!

Gawd knows when I eventually nodded-off.

Dangwangling Dangwangles!

Inchcockski – Sat 1 Feb 2020: A day of irresolution, emotionalisation, and a roller-coaster day!

Saturday 1st February 2020

Croatian: Subota, 1 Veljače 2020 Godine

02:05hrs: Well that was a better nights kip, over 5½hrs! Great! I felt like I had had a good sleep, too! Yet another fantastic morning for Inchcock!

As my functions began to come into semi-life, and the brain kick-started itself, only Arthur Itis, Saccades-Sandra, and Colin Cramps seemed to be in a bad mood. Anne Gyna, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, Dizzy Dennis etc. noticeable by their absence of botherations. I think I’m getting accustomised to these Good-Luck happenings. I liked ’em!

I manoeuvred my aged, wobbly-bellied body from the £300, c1968, rickety recliner, with the aid of the four-pronged walking stick, got up like a crippled elephant onto my feet. I availed the use of the handily-place GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), a strong flow, that didn’t last long, of the SHLSDTAT; (Starting-Hosepipe-Like-Suddenly-Dying-To-A-Trickle) variety.  On my way to the kitchen, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I diverted to the wet room (Limping along nicely, I might add!)

I got there in time quickly enough, and an evacuation of almost perfect conditions followed! Apart from a little discomfort from Harold’s internal Haemorrhoids. No bleeding or trickling from Harold of Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. The legs had gained some colour as well! Some new varicose and spider veins developing, methinks.

Just so’s I don’t get too excited about things, I knocked the haemorrhoid and Daktacort tubes off of the floor cabinets while getting the jammies pulled up.

With Shaking-Shoulder-Shay jerking kicked off as I left the room, but that doesn’t bother me much, and it’s usually copeable with, doesn’t hinder the typing on the computer much. See that? More good stuff. Colin-Cramps is keeping the Ailment-Mafia’s end up, mind. A regular rubbing in of Phorpain gel is helping me cope, I think.

In the kitchen, I took a shot of the morning sky; not just any shot, but the worst I’ve ever done! Humph! Yes, the neurotransmitter’s have failed again. It is impossible to stop this, but it comes and goes. It just picked the perfect time to destroy the quality of my picture! Grumpworthiness!

I got some mushrooms and leeks in the bigger crock-pot, on low heat. Made a brew, and took the medications. I added some salt, a drop of balsamic and clear distilled vinegar later on, with some caramelised gravy.

I then moved the handwashing that was hanging drying around. Got the jammie-bottoms on the wire airer, towel on the stand-up airer and moved the shirts above the heater in the kitchen. Then, I made another brew of tea, the last one had gone cold on me.

At last, I got the computer on to update the Friday blog Very late! But at least I’d got some other jobs done this morning.

I checked on the crock-pot stew first. I’m going to add some canned stewed steak in gravy to it after I get it in the saucepan on the hob later. That’s the plan anyway.

Well, the internet started off failing to save straight away, as soon as I’d written a sentence on WordPress! And I had to do three amendments due to the neurotransmitter’s nerves playing up, still. I decided to go on the TFZer Facebooking first, as nothing was needing to be saved on that, so it might prove more productive.

Well, I was wrong again! So, I went back to doing the updating of the Friday post, again! Much correctionalisationing was needed, and the internet also slowed me down, along with the neurotransmitter’s nerves. So very Agravannoying!

I popped in to check on the slow-cooker again. After yesterdays burnt offering, I was still a touch nervous of a repeat performance. No bother, though, the pots, onions and leeks were looking good and cooking rather swiftly.

Back to the computerisationing, and got the Friday diary finished, but it was well gone 06:00hrs by that time! Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating! 

So, has my scintilla of good-luck come to an end? I suppose so! At this thought, I checked on the cooking again. All was okay, I transferred the food to the large saucepan, made and added son caramelised gravy to it, and stirred it in well. Then cleaned the large crock-pot and lid. They don’t half get dirty, don’t they? Took me ages and a lot of effort to get it looking something like alright!

Back on the computer, and my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-law Pete, called on the landline. Pete, the same age as wot I am, a bit older actually. Who still has his hair, is handsome. Much loved by the ladies. Is fit, capable, not lost his memory, is a mechanical and electrical genius too. The one that retired fifteen years early. Can’t blame him after his big wins on the pools then the lottery. Then, when he was left a fortune by an unknown relative. So, he invested in off-shore accounts, the stock-exchange, bought a new car and retired. Jealous? Me? We had a good chinwag, Sister Jane was dining out with her friends in Nottingham. I told him I was looking for a name to give for my Shaking Shoulder, and he suggested Shane, so it will be! Rings nicely, Shaking-Shoulder-Shane! Hehe!

We had a good gossip and laugh. But he had to go, Sister Jane was checking up on him again. Haha!  Nice of him to ring, mainly to mention that I missed his birthday. I nearly told him to keep the money he stole from the flat and didn’t return while I was in the hospital from the stroke. But I didn’t. I understand getting cash out of the Scottish Widows European Back-Hander Fund is not easy!

I did some work on this blog and then went to make a fresh brew. Pete has mentioned the beautiful clouds at his posh-end of Nottingham, and  I saw how picturesque they were.

I put the kettle on and went to open the unliked, unwanted, thick-framed, light and below-view-blocking window to take photographicalisation of the sky… The howling wind blew the window in and clouted me on the forehead, knocked the glasses of my head. And flung the t-shirt that was hanging there, right across the room. With the coathanger managing to hit my ear-hole as it went by! The mysteries of 72 Woodthorpe Court, the illusions, delusions, hallucinations, infestations, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and manic machinations that thrive here freely, are bountiful!
Just thought I’d mention it.

I must try to get some graphics done, even though it’s beyond my usual head-down time. But no, only one ‘Thought’ done, and the fatigue set in.

I went to get the stew meal sorted and prepared. First, I just had to take a couple more photographs of the sky view, with the sun still trying to get its heatless, cold beam on earth. Bootiful!

I moved the mish-mash of leeks, potatoes, mushrooms and garden peas, from the crock-pot into the saucepan. Added some tinned beef in gravy to the mix, and out some more balsamic vinegar in. Stirred it well, tasted a spoonful, then made some gravy, and that was mixed in too.

While it heated up again, I washed the slow-cooker pot and casing. What a horrible, messy, time-consuming job! Cut my finger, dropped the rag, spilt water all over the sink. Dangwangles!

Got the things back on the counter, and made an orange spring water drink to take the medications with. I had a view of outside as I took the tablets, and down by the bottom of my sadly, much-missed tree copse, I could see people going over to something left at the foot of the hill. I zoomed in to see what it was. A tribute, possibly from a funeral, left as you can in. I wondered sadly if I will ever get fit enough to visit the copse again. I used to love going through and just stopping at times, to almost talk to the trees, and smell nature. I lovely gesture I think, putting this where presumably, the deceased used to stroll him or herself? Heartwarming, but depressing on a personal level, at the thought of my never being well-enough to visit it again! Maybe one day, with someone with me, I’d like to try.

I pulled myself out of my self-pity mode, to find the pan of ‘Inchcock imitation Stew’ was bubbling over! Oh, Gawd! More cleaning up and washing to do! Humph!

I got the meal served up and pondered on what I’d actually put in it. Potatoes, mushrooms, leeks, black Iberico tomatoes, garden peas in rich gravy… and the seasoning! Well, sea salt, balsamic vinegar, distilled vinegar and beef stock. Sounds a bit of a risk, but it smelt nice. Hehehe!

I ate it all up, with a flavour rating of 7.5/10 given.

Dropped the dish and things in the bowl to soak, and got down to watch a DVD.

ZZZ!

Inchcock Today: Frid 31 Jan 2020: Ailments easier, luck not so bad… Humph! Just burnt my dinner! Big Mouth me!

Friday 31st January 2020

Latvian: Piektdien, 2020 Gada 31 Janvārī

01:00hrs: Woke, with memories of a dream I’d had floating about in the grey-cells. But they soon left, and all I knew was, the nocturnal mind-wanderings were of a likeable nature, but not the foggiest of any details, remained. Tsk!

Moments later, summoning from the inwards, advised me to hasten to the Porcelain Throne. So, I did. Which proved to be and up and down visitation. The evacuation went well enough, not too painful or messy, but it took a while and some effort.

During this, I had a go at the crossword book. And dropped it when the neurotransmitters failed in the finger-ends. I used the picker-upper to retrieve the book. I creased the pages in doing so. When I got it in my hand, a page with some of my scribble on it was on top. I’d written something about my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete; I think I wrote it when I was in the Acorn home, recovering from the stroke, so out of interest, I read it. It related to Pete visiting me there. And suddenly it dawned… I’d missed his birthday! Well, I can expect him to raid the flat again now! Hehe! He might even arm one of his drones and send it over! I must apologise to the lad. Sorry, Pete, me old mate, catch you later, I hope, Sir. I do feel a right schlemiel! I blame my doing that housework yesterday. (Red-face and shame growing!)

I took a rinse and wiped the contact surfaces, and off to the kitchen to make a brew. I took the medications.

Then got on with updating the Thursday blog.

But it was a nightmare with the amazingly crap service provided by the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, making things take several times longer than it should have. And yet yesterday, it was reasonably decent? In fact, it was to start with for the first fifteen minutes?

After about half-an-hour at it, the wee-weeing started, and it’s not stopped yet! Each and everyone was of the SSPAOQ (Short-Sharp-Painless-All-Over-Quickly) variety. But most frequent. I reckon that I must have dished the beta-blocker, in error for the Furesomide tablet! Thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for letting me down and failing to remove the Furesomide from the blister-packs in my prescriptions, as Nurse Leoni had asked you to do, and you said you would, but didn’t! She asked you again last week, and another prospectively worthless promise was received that you would on the next allocation. I hope you do get it right this time, bearing in mind you are classed amongst the top three Chemists in Nottingham by the Yell.co company. It’s only after talking with other old folks in the flats where I live about the problem that many have told me of their complaints about Boots, Llyods, and the Late Night Chemists in Sherwood. You all seem unreliable. So, how come you are in the top three? You used to be so caring, efficient, and reliable, too. Shame, a shame I can’t leave and use another pharmacist. And Boots and Lloyds are about to charge £10 per delivery.

I really went off the plot there, didn’t I? Sorry, but the annoyance of Mr Fries Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, and the suffering that Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA have put me through, gets to me sometimes, mainly when they both cause problems for me at the same time!

Now, my Grammarly keeps changing to US English, and I am so pissed-off!

As I gave up on the web and closed everything down, the landline rang out. It was Sister Jane to tell me I had forgotten Pete’s birthday. Oh, dear! ‘Trouble ‘t Mill!” I didn’t mention that I forgot my own last year! After all the help, the lad’s given me over the stroke, too. Oh, ecky thump!

I got the ablutions sorted out. The legs looked mighty fine! Dropsies that I can remember; Shaving Razors (4) Shaving cream. Teeth; toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash bottle. Showering: Showerhead, soap (3), sponge, and back-brush. Then another toe-stubbing against seat raiser. The sock-glide battle; that I had been mastering of late. Left me with a piece of the nail removed on the thumb, and a bruise on the knuckles. Also, I clouted my elbow on the sink edge, getting my trousers on! Now that’s more like me!

I felt almost happy about it! Sad, I know, but that happens to be how I think, good luck is unusual but pleasant. However, not as reliable or frequent as a good dose of my injurious calamities and failures are!

I tended to the handwashing next. A few bits needed doing, and I made a right mess of the kitchen in doing so. I was a smidge irked by having to clean the flipping floor again after doing it yesterday. A few quiet mutterings of a curseful nature were uttered. But overall, I remained in a decent enough mood with myself and the world.

When I’d got the clothes done, rung and hung, then the beep-beep hook on the coathanger with the jammie-bottoms hanging on it suddenly detached itself! And again water found its way onto the floor I’d just cleaned again! More foul language was silently-voiced, with one word coming out aloud, beginning with F!

I took a snap of the view from the unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking new kitchen windows. It looked like some rain is on the way. Pretty in a way, though. No, that’s not the word to describe it! More like, erm… I don’t know now, the name just departed my brain and off into the ether? Humph!

I got dressed and all ready for a bus ride to Sherwood. After double, treble checking things, especially the potatoes in the new small cooker, lights taps, etc. I departed. I rang Josie’s bell on the way out, but no answer.

Down and along the link-passage to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators), Wardens to us, Holding Cell office. A quick nip in and handed the nibbles out. All done in thirty-seconds, and off into the Winwood Court Social Lounge. Only one person in there, a Nottingham City Homes agent. There was a lot of them arrived today. Including the Nottingham City Homes Generalfeldmarschalless Housing Patch Manager/Catwalk Model, Angela Gould.

I got the crosswording tackled for fifteen minutes or so, did well today. Then forced the reluctant Arthur Itis’s knees to let me stand up again, and off to the Winchester Court foyer. Had a natter with Margaret, Mary, and some other tenants, then, out to the bus stop.

Got the L9 down to Mansfield Road, took a photo to the right, then the left.

I limped down to the left, to the Azam store, the one with the lime window shades, to search for some fruit and veg. But, oh, what a selection of old food at top prices they had on offer! I turned around and back up the hill and tried the Co-op shop. They had some Cox’s apples, not cheap, but they looked okay, a bag of small potatoes, a wholemeal bread thins, and some mushrooms.

I paid at the self-serve tills without any problems. Then out and crossed over at the traffic light, to go to Abdul’s shop with the Post Office in it, to get some Puff Pastry fingers.

The shop that was a Bingo and entertainment establishment had been graffitied. But not by good skilfull ones.

As I took this photo, a young Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist came by, and gave the evil eye and said something, but I could not hear what it was he said. Then casually plodded on up the hill, with his hands in his pockets, not on the handlebars.

I got to Abdul’s and got a packet of the fingers and a pack of jam tarts, £1 each. I met Welsh William at the check out ahead of me. He held the door open for me as I followed him out. We had a chat on my way to the bus stop, and he diverted into the bookies. That’s William in the light blue jacket shooting off for a flutter on the gee-gees, I imagine.

I carried on to the bus shelter, just as the rain came down heavier. Good timing! Some tenants of the flats, unknown to me by name and I had a chinwag for a while, as the bus came a little late today. But it wasn’t cold with it like it has been these last couple of days. The rain seems to have scattered the local populace.

Back at the flats, I was off the bus last as usual, to avoid banging into anyone or getting hit about. One of them waited to hold the door open for me, bless the gentleman! I did my best to catch up with them for a natter, but they were already at the end of the passage near the swipe door, by the time I entered the corridor. William was leading the charge.

I got the few things purchased put away and began to formulate what to have for today’s nosh with the new potatoes. Which incidentally were ready to go now, in the crock-pot. So I moved them in with the garden peas in the saucepan.

Then, I got the computer on and downloaded the photos to Coreldraw for resising. Then, with a certain nervousness, I restarted the Libert-Global internet and made a mug of tea, while I waited to restart hopefully.

It was just the same as before, no change. It seems to be cutting out every few minutes, but only for a few seconds, then coming back on? But, it seems, only on WordPress this time? Unless its just the timing?

I went on Facebook to test that out on the TFZers page. Got loads of photos on. But some moving pictures set Saccades-Sandra off, and now the Dizzies are back. So I’ll get the nosh made and settle down to try and rest a while.

Head cleared now, and I nodded-off (beyond my usual head-down time now) for a few minutes, I woke and went to sort the meal out.

Oh, flippin’ ‘eck! The potatoes were slightly burnt! The leeks had disappeared altogether! Thank heavens I warmed the garden peas in another pan! The saucepan had to be put down. I said a few words over it as I washed it and put it in its final resting place, the rubbish bag. A sad event, cause this saucepan had lasted longer than any other in the depths of the Whoopsiedangleplops, and the cursed Accifauxpas mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court kitchen. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! It was a veteran; it lasted the course without any damage for four months! Frogglemoths! I managed to clean the lid and kept it, in memory of the devoted pans loyalty, he’s not had an easy life, something I could empathise with.

However, I still ate the potatoes, not the black bits, mind. The feast was enjoyed, with a tinge of sadness for the saucepan. Hehehe! 

Pork & mushroom pate, the lucky-not-go-the-same-way as the potatoes garden peas, an apple, a black tomato, beetroot, and the well-tasty potatoes! Lemon curd yoghourt for afters, with a bottle of fresh orange juice. A flavour-rating of 7/10.

Then, I went to get the pots washed. I returned to the junk room mark 2, got settled in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, yucky-grungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.

I got the TV on and noted that channel 81 on Freeview, a film, Crooks in Cloister was about to start. It rang a distant bell in my mind, so I decided to watch it… I nodded-off into slumberland as it was beginning. Not only that, but I slept for about 5½ hours uninterrupted!

Inchcockski: Thursday 30th January 2020:

Thursday 30th January 2020

Zulu: ULwesine 30 KuJanuwari 2020

01:15hrs: I woke up, feeling so tired still, why, I know not. But there you go! I got my cumbersome short-plump, wobbly body up, caught my balance, and without to much bother, as well! The absence of Dizzy Dennis almost made me give out a “Yee-Haa!” No wee-wee, no Porcelain Throne needs either!

Off to the kitchen, where I got the kettle on. The innards began to suddenly and importunately rumble and grumble. I hastened to the wet room and got seated on the Porcelain Throne. It was a reluctant evacuation, but nae bother, the crossword book was utilised, the pain was of a minimum, and it was not messy. Mmm, disconcerting!

Not only, but as well as and besides them, the pins (legs) were looking even better. On the verge of normalisticalistion! Well, apart from what I think might be one of the coming and going blotches, due to the Clopidogrel Clive. Even, Varicose-Veins-Victor had calmed down! I think I’ll upgrade my previous exclamation from disconcerting to worrying!

Had I woken up in another world? I clambered out of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner so easily! No dizzies, an almost routine Throne visit? Plus, Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna were giving me no hassle at all. Little-Inchies Fungal Lesion and Harolds Haemorrhoids were not bleeding! Worrying, in a way! Most incomprehensible! But, let’s give them time.

I put some leeks and mushrooms in the small crock-pot, seasoned with onion salt. Then made another mug of tea, and belatedly took the medications.

I got on the computer to update the diary, for I knew it was going to be a long haul, with my going out yesterday and the bank meeting to add. Going to be another long one, but I hope interesting for once.

Then… Eurgh!

The going with the updating was riddled with contretemps, ever correcting. It took hours before the internet settled into its usual slow-mode status. That, I could live with.

After a couple of hours, I went to check on the potatoes and leeks that were in the new cooker. The lid was rattling with the pressure, so I turned it down to the low setting. I  poked a potato with a plastic fork, and it burst open! Blimey, that cooked quick! So I took out the spuds and used them for nibbles during the morning. I think with them being very tiny in size, is the cause of this contretemps?

Mr Fries internet was getting more reliable. But for God sakes don’t let him know, the price will go up again!

07:26hrs: 7.5 hours after starting, I finally got the post finished. Fed-up? Me!

I emailed the link. Then went on Pinterest and posted some pictures. Then onto the WordPress reader. Next, the TFZer Facebooking.

At 0945hrs, I started this blog off.

I kept checking on the crock-pot, there were not many leeks left, most had turned to liquid! Humph! A right mess from the slow-cooker fiasco in the kitchen needed sorting out. Oh dearie me, yes! Decision time again! I didn’t want to turn off the computer and go off itself again. But I wanted to clear the mess up. But I had to get the ablutions done first, so I looked semi-respectable if I met anyone. The black bags needed sorting and getting rid off. The kitchen floor needed a good mopping up. So much to get done… but excuses, I can’t see myself feeling as fit as this again. The head was spinning a bit now, with unbelievability.

So, I closed all the programs apart from the internet itself. WordPress, Coreldraw, Hippo, and Word. And put the machine in sleep mode. Then got the ablutions done, I need the Porcelain Throne again anyway. The ablutionalisationing session went well. Any more good luck, and I may have another stroke or heart attack, this is all unnatural). Fair enough, the dropsies were frequent, there was no bleeding, dizzies, toe-stubbing, or knocking over anything. The sock-glide battle as an injury-less draw. There were a few mini-knicks when shaving, though. To be expected.

Got the togs to wear ready, and visited the wet room. I should be back in a few hours, providing I don’t do anything silly, like sit down and fall asleep (which is already tempting me, so as I can avoid the cleaning and mopping up. Haha!), or snuff-it. TTFN.

(Well, I didn’t make it back until I woke up Friday at 01:00hrs. Humph!)

Having been refreshed,

I got myself dressed.

Work needed doing, there’s no rest,

Sorted the filled box’s, tied em with string,

Sweep the kitchen the next thing,

Then mopping to do, Arthur Itis started to sting,

Left it, for now, good thinking!

So, I stacked the box’s, on the trolley thing,

Out to the lobby, the lift did arrive and ping,

I got into the cage, no box’s tipping,

To the lobby, and to the caretaker’s den,

I wouldn’t like to have to do this again!

Robert, (or is it Steven? Oh, the brain!) helped me unload the things and we had a little natter. I told him of my crock-pot disasters, and he told me of some he’s had. Nice to talk!

Back up to the flat, and tackled the mopping up of the filthy kitchen floor. I had to change the water in the bucket twice!

I clouted my ankle a few times, and at one point, all the signs of the peripheral neuropathy right-leg were building up for a Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dance showed. The almost intangible tremors around the right knee and the hip shakes are usually reliable indicators. But not this time, thankfully. Which with me mopping, a dance now, could have been dangerous. Another spot of good luck for me. This out of the ordinary, idiosyncratic run of uncustomarily good fortune, to be honest, scares the living daylights out of me. It’s just doesn’t happen to me?

But the floor didn’t look bad after I’d got it done. It was worth annoying Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna a bit. (Liar!)

While the floor dried, I went down to the Hauptsturmfuhreresses Holding Cell and Office, with the last of the Easter treats. They were busy, and my EQ told me I was annoying them. But, pole-dancer and Warden Deana, did pose for me to take a snap of her. I thought she looked just like my Sister Jane did, fifty years ago! A quick natter and I returned to the flat.

I went outside on Chestnut Walk, back to the flat, so I could take some photographs of the buildings. Not received any for a while now, with all those days being stuck indoors over the month. Thanks mainly to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for being late with my prescriptions and leaving me without painkillers and beta-blockers for five, no, six days! Just thought I’d mention it! I wonder if the next months will arrive on time? The Medicine Management lady, Leoni, who I complained to, told me to ring them when I get to my last weeks blister-pack and remind them. Very helpful, professional and useful! Especially as she knows I am almost deaf! I wandered-off the plot there, sorry.

As I ambled along in the cold sunshine, I took these pictures along the way.

Chestnut Walk. A shot of the cars blocking emergency vehicle access?
Winchester Court, looking good!
Front of Winwood Court
Woodthorpe Court and part of Winwood Court

I got back to the apartment and remembered to take the original crock-pot to the waste-chute room, as told to by Stephen (or Robert?) earlier, for him to kindly collect and dispose of for me.

Weariness and fatigue dawned early again. I locked the flat door for once so that I would not be disturbed by anyone coming in, for I felt the need for sleep to be needed, more than usual.

I got the meal prepared and served up. Those wicked, unhealthy Frikadellens, done it the oven, and caramelised onion chutney slathered liberally on top of them (Evil-chuckle), garden peas, much-overcooked but still tasty leeks, a sliced black Natoori tomato, and four mushrooms done with balsamic vinegar, and a few mini new potatoes. With a luxurious lemon-curd yoghourt for afters, with a bottle of fresh orange juice! Bu gum, I relished that! Flavour rating of 9/10 given! But, I must resist the temptation to have Frikadellens again for a few months, cause despite the fantastic taste, they are really not healthy at all!

I got the pots washed, thought about doing the handwashing, but didn’t, and got my head down, turning the telly on. I had one programme I wanted to watch, then I could nod-off.

But while watching the alien documentary, I sensed a flashing light coming from the hallway? I whipped off the headphones, and could hear a squeaking, whiny noise?

As I fought my way out of the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, and made way,  hobblingly and hanging onto the walking stick, to the hall. I still managed to give myself a sickeningly-sharp toe-stubbing against the Ottoman! I found the smoke alarm going off on the kitchen ceiling. There was a recorded message, that was the squeaking, whiny noise I heard I assumed. It repeated a few time before stopping. I caught a few words of the recording, ‘No action is needed’, I hope. So, I reckon it was an alarm test. Indeed, no smoke or fire around anyway.

I got back to the recliner, limping a little more painfully now the middle toe had had another bashing from the stubbing!

This palaver made getting to sleep again, harder. Humph!

Inchcock Today: Wed 29 Jan 2020 -Worra busy day. I nearly enjoyed it though! Hahaha!

Wednesday 29th January 2020

Frisian: Woansdei 29 Jannewaris 2020

23:52hrs: I transformed into semi-life status, and responded to the need for a wee-wee hastily, for it was an urgent need! Raising my wobbly, over-stomached body-mass from the second-hand, £300 recliner and taking the stick and few paces to the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with ease. I had an SFDBFF (Started-Firm-Determined-But-Faded-Fast) style evacuation. No demands for a Porcelain Throne came?

I got to the kitchen, cleaned and sanitised the bucket. Took the medications, and made a brew of Glengettie tea, to ease my brain hopefully, into some sort of mental action. It seemed to work! For after a good gulp of the deep-amber fluid, I remembered that the food delivery was coming early, twixt 07:00 > 08:00hrs. I decided to make sure I got the ablutions done sooner than usual as well! Then, as I hobbled carefully back to the computer dump room, I recalled that today was the Bank Manager’s visit appointment!

As I settled and got the computer on to update the blog, I noted how well things were going this morning, up to now anyway. The attentions of Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, and even Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun were all minimal! Only Saccades-Sandra and a few tremors and shakes from the peripheral neuralgia arm and shoulder were of any real worry-worthiness. Even the toothache seemed less painful? That’s something else; when I go to see the bank manageress, I must call at the dentists to make an appointment.

I felt almost semi-contented as booted up the computer. It didn’t last for much longer! First, I realised that the right-hand fingers Neurotransmitter nerves were bad, and knew this would mean difficulties in typing. But before I got a chance to find out properly, the famously pathetic and unreliable Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, let me down again!

I got some potatoes and mushroom in the slow-cooker for later. Just seasoned with salt this time. Ah, the internet was back on!

I struggled on with the blogging update. Which was one of the easiest for months, as I was stuck-indoors again yesterday, so only a few photographs to sort out, plus, I’d stayed up later than usual, so it was virtually finished when I started it – Does that make sense? Anyway, it kept going off so often, and I had to just press on until it returned on its own. What a palava! But I did get it finished and posted off, hours after starting it, though!

 I needed to make a template for this post. The CorelDrawing bit was fine, but getting the template made up on WordPress was a grind-and-a-half with the internet failing so often, for periods of a minute, three minutes back on, and off again… Arghh!

I went on the TFZer Facebooking, that was a bind too. Thanks to Mr ‘I don’t-know-what-I’m-doing, but still, I get paid a fortune’ So I’m not bothered, Fries! Swine! Mafia minded bully and incompetent, mob-backed merchant! Probably not true, but how else does such an arrogant, unskilled pillock like that, keep his job?

I made a start on this blog but gave up. Too much like hard-work, thanks, Mr Fries! The farcical Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet came last month to do some upgrading, that made things worse than before. They are coming again on Feb 6th to try again. Phwert!

I put the handwashing in soak and went to get the stand-up ablutionalisationing done. Apart from around five shaving cuts, and about four dropsies, all went well. Even the Sock-Glide battle (I think I’m mastering the thing now!) Smug-Mode-Adopted!

Got smelly with sprays, dressed and went to get the handwashing. All done, rung and hung. That Amazon long sleeve t-shirt that was chocolate brown when I bought it, turned to green on the first wash, and is now a sort of olive-dark blue colour, Tsk!, has still got that stain on the front.  I must have spilt some bleach on it. Humph!

So, no toe stubbings, no Dizzy Dennis’, Shaking Shaun was still about, but not so interested in me as he was earlier.

Still, there are no Porcelain Throne attentions called for? Mmm?

I went to the kitchen and decided to take a couple of photographicalisations from the unwanted, disliked, anti-photographer, and deaf people designed with wide ledges to stop me seeing what is below and taking a snap. Or, see if any emergency vehicles are on-site, due to me not hearing the Fire Alarm.

The sun kept trying to come out but went in and hid when it came to my picturing the view. Coming out the moment I’d put the camera away! Huh!

I sorted the black bags and took them to the waste chute. Then returnedReadies, black bags down to chute. Back to the flat, and dithered about, convinced that something had not been done yet. A general feeling of anaemia reigned.

It took me a long while trying to sort out what it was that was niggling at me. And then I didn’t find it! I had the Bank paperwork, card, bus-pass, hearing aids in the lug-holes, the right glasses on the head, alert bracelets on the wrists, Warfarin card in pocket, money, sourdough bread for the ILCs, medications taken, Calendar checked for appointment time at the bank (In fact they sent me text reminding me of the 10:00hr attendance and punctuality needed – Read later, a farce!), crossword book in the trolley… Oh, what the heck is it?

But I had to accept defeat. Wrapped up warmly, and then the farcical double-checking started. To reassure myself and verifying that all in the apartment was left safely.

Out to ask Deana if the kitchen volunteers wanted the new extra-large crock-pot or not. No message has been sent back from anyone who had been received when I offered yesterday morning. I also had a treat for them, of the Polish sliced sourdough bread. They love it, and I love being able to treat them when I order anything from Ocado, who, as far as I know, is the only place that sells it. A little thank you.

I departed, still feeling uneasy, thinking about whatever it was I thought had not been done or taken with me. Humph!

When I got in the lift, I found a damp t-shit on the deck in the cage. Obviously, some poor soul had dropped it when returning from the laundry room. So, I pucked it up and shook off the bits from the floor attached to it, and hung it on the handrail. I hope they find it later. Just my sort of antics to get up to!

When I got to the Winwood Heights Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Wardens and Lap-Top Dancers Interrogation Office, but no one answers my knock.

So I went to the big social lounge and had a go at my crossword book for a bit. I got involved in the puzzle and nearly forgot the time, I had to rush a little to get to Winchester Courts lobby. Where some tenants were waiting in the warmth for the bus. I handed out some nibbles, and we nattered and laughed a little, as I accepted the put-downs and touches of sarcasm in good spirit.

A big crowd at the shelter this morning. Angela & Roy, Penny, Shirley, Mary, Margaret, Doris, Louie, Welsh William, the snotty bloke from Woodthorpe Court, and others. Note how I remembered so many names there? Smug Mode adopted.

I good chinwag with Margaret on the few bus-stops down Winchester Street, where I dropped off the bus with Angela and Roy. We all went into the bank. Angie and Roy got served first, and I waited my turn. The appointment time passed by. No signs of anyone interested in me. Angie and Roy may have had a query of some sort because they were escorted into the office where my meeting was supposed to have been.

I kept poddling about the place with the trolley-walker, to keep the knees from stiffening, for fifteen minutes or so. When the pair came out of the office and passed me on the way out, Angela said she was sorry for messing up my appointment and keeping me waiting, bless her. I replied, “Thank you, it just shows how lucky my life is!” She did laugh!

The Local Banker, Washeeda Hashmi, came to collect me. My EQ saw pound-signs on legs! Which proved to be right! As we walked to the office, she apologised for keeping me waiting. With a broad grin, I answered; Yes, I suppose they have bigger assets and investments than me?” She smiled, cocked her head to one side and said, “Well, yes” and her grin broadened. Ah, a sense of humour, I liked that!

First, the lady was advised by me of my medical situation, and I started by asking her about the second account, asking why the interest had been cut by 50%. I received what sounded like gobbledegook and ended up more confused than before I’d asked the question. But, she changed something or other, and the interest was, all 1.5%, was restored, but in a new different account? High finance, not my easiest of topics for me to get a grip on!

Then the sales pitch came. Did I want to increase my cover in the event of losing my money? How much do I pay for my current house-contents insurance? I was given her card to call or pop in to see her when the coverage is due to be renewed. Name, tel number, she works Mopn Tue Weds only, I must ring her, she might be able to offer a better deal. Is your funeral arranged yet? ‘Yes!’

Then I inquired about the new cashcard and what is needed to be done. She patiently explained things and even went out with me to the cash-point to ‘Enable’ or was it ‘Actuate’, the card for me. I asked if I could draw some cash, to be sure the card was now operational. “No problem,” she said. But the machine would not accept the card! She looked embarrassed, and I felt baffled! We went back inside, and the card was used at the counter, and it worked! Phew! 

I thanked her and made my way out onto Mansfield Road, nonplussed, foggier-headed, and somewhat more perplexed than I did when I entered the bank.

Up the hill to the bus stop. Things worked out well timing-wise, two-minutes later, the L9 to Arnold arrived.

I had another bash at the crosswording en route. I got off on Front Street, right near the Asda store, and went in to have a look at their slow cookers on offer. I managed to avoid the dangerously driven mobility scooters and got into the shop. They had a range of small crock-pots on sale.

From which of course, making my mind up which one to buy, took a lengthy spell of ditherisationing. I ended up selecting the smallest on offer. Only £14, 1.5L size. They had several 1.8L ones that were even cheaper to buy. But this smaller one will suit my needs, I hope, anyway.

Now, I was struggling a bit in getting around the store with the box and the three-wheel-walker-guide. I limped around and ended up at the check-out with; The crock-pot, pack on mini-Swiss rolls, some potatoes, and chopped leeks. Paid the helpful gal on the till, who also helped me load the bag, and even put it on the trolley handle for me. Thank you, petal!

Now, with the two bags on the walker-guide, one with the cooker in it, I poddled unsteadily out onto Front Street. The alarm went off as I left the store through the tag recognisers, from the cooker most likely. But no one came to check on me. It seemed eerily free of cyclists, pedestrians, beggars, and mobility scooters out there!

I pondered over my next move. There were about twenty-five minutes before the bus was due. So, I went down and over the road, to have a look in the Fultons Foods shop, to get some garden peas with the ring-pull openers if they had any in. I ambled stumblingly (the balancing of the bags was not easy, with the one with the cooker in it sticking out and catching things. Tsk!) to the crossing, and over the road to the shop. I came out with three for-a-pound tins of peas, Hills Shorties biscuits, and two pots of lemon cheesecakes.

I made my way to the bus stop, and Mary was sat sitting there in the shelter. There was still ten-minutes or so until the bus was due. We had a good nattering session, during which Mary showed an interest in having the gigantic slow-cooker. Well, being as no one had let me know it the Winwood Court kitchen could use it, I said she could have it.

No crosswording on the route back to the flats. There was no room with the two bags and trolley bag full, it took all my concentration to stop the useless brakes-applied guide from shooting off each the bus went around a corner or braked sharply. But Mary and I managed a tete-e-tete, though.

We got back to Winwood Heights, and I dropped the sourdough bread off in the warden’s office. No mention of the giant-crock-pot being needed, so I dropped off the loaf and told Mary she could have it straight away. We ambled to Woodthorpe Court and up in the lift, Maty getting off on the first floor, and saying she would be up for the cooker soon. No problem, I say’s, and I carried on up to the twelfth floor and got inside.

I had a bit of bother getting the bags in, but did it okay. Emptied out the trolley and carriers, and was setting up the new cooker, as Mary arrived. She took the cooker, asked how much, I said ‘Nowt’, she thanked me and shot off with it.

I put the fodder away. Then got the new pot set-up next to the other semi-new biggerer one.

Which, of course, meant I now have to find room to put all the stuff I had to move away off of the counter-top, to avoid them being near the heat of the crock-pots when in use!

I’ll have to keep an eye on the control settings being used. They are different from each other. Fingers crossed I don’t cock it up!

I got the pots and mushrooms out of the larger crock-pot and made up the evenings meal. Pork pie meat, a Natoora black Iberico tomato, beetroot, garden peas, chestnut mushrooms, new potatoes and a sliced Cox’s apple. A lemon curd yoghourt and drink of fresh orange juice with it. Rated at 8.2/10 for flavour. Even the tomatoes, which were meaty tasting, although they were Spanish. I enjoyed that!

The washing up was done. Cleaning the large slow-cooker took longer than everything else put together! Glad I’ve got the new smaller one for tomorrow, at last.

I put the computer on to add to the calendar, and the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet was working okay?

Put the TV on, and after an hour or so of nodding-offs and wakenings, I gave up and turned the telly set off.

Then, the brain-storming began! Fears, worries, past-faults, heebie-jeebies, psychasthenia, and insecurity all flowed and churned inwardly.

It was ages before I hibernated for the evening. Hey-ho!

Inchcock Today: Tuesday 28th January 2020: Oddlymost indoors day!

Tuesday 28th January 2020

Tuesday 28th January 2020

01:10hrs: I stirred, thought about a dream I’d been having. Coughed, passed-wind, listened to the World Famous ‘Hum’ as loud as ever, and was immediately annoying and weed-off. “That’s a good start to the day!” I thought. Then the innards started movements of a worryingly dynamic nature. A hectic, but injury-free scramble to the wet room began. No signs of nocturnal nibbling spotted.

My timing was perfect (I’m glad I rushed, though!), the instant I was on the Porcelain Throne, things started. But it was a long hard slog. For after a second or two, much effort was needed. The cistern struggled, needing two flushes to clear things. On the wonderfully bright-side, there was no bleeding, and things were not messy. Washed disinfected and off to the kitchen.

Where a shock awaited me when I went to make a brew. I thought I’d fill-up the Glengettie tea-bag pot. After a long search, there was none to be found! So I did an Ocado order for some more. I got some Thompsons Punjana as well. 

I got the medications taken, then started to update the Monday diary! It took me three and a bit hours, but with soo many photographs to sort out, this was not too long at all. The right-side neurotransmitters were not bad at all this morning. Colin Cramps had replaced them as the worse offender. Surprisingly, in the left hand, only fingers? Heck of a painful job to get them straightened up at times. At least, annoying as this was, it was far preferable to the nerve-end failures, so I looked on the bright side.

Towards the end of updating…

Then…

Most aggranoying! This stopping and starting continued for the rest of the day. Taking the pleasure away from the Internet for me. Most importantly, it cost me far to much time and delayed things getting done. Thank you. Mr Fries! (Blumpherations!)

I managed to get the post finished, and my patience tested to the full.

I went to make another mug of tea, and the sky looked beautiful. I couldn’t take a decent shot, cause the camera was on charge. So I got the old little battery one, and took three shots, and linked them together, then trimmed them. As I went to take another photo, the camera died a death! I buried it in the recycling bag, saying a few words in memorisation. Haha! I levelled and cut them.

I tended to the ablutions. Only a couple of dropsies this time. (Razor (2), flannel) It went well overall, and the Sock Glide was tamed!

The legs looked better, I thought. The mystery bleeding from the overnight appeared spots and blotches, were drying-up nicely.

But the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, was really crap today! Even for them!

Forever getting this sign up. Ha! it just came up again, two minutes after the last one!

I think they should change the name from Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet to Mission Impossible Internet! Gerrangulations!

The sweet, highly desirous Nurse Christina should be here soon, I hope, to take my blood.

I went on the WordPress Reader. Gave up on Libert-Global internet.

Got the handwashing done, wrung and hung!

Sunshine, in the form of Nurse Christina, bucked me up as she arrived to take my blood. She let me take her photo, in the balcony, bless her. I wish I’d got a printer now! Humph!

After she had left, I went on TFZer Facebooking. But it was hard work with the net going down so often.

I tried to clean the oven, but too painful getting at it.

Then another summoning to the Porcelain Throne. A lot easier performance this time. Which was nice, cause I expected the same problems again.

Fatigue and weariness dawned, so I got some chips in the oven, I’ll have to eat the short-dated mini pork pies again. (Snigger!)

Gawd how tired I suddenly feel!

Got the nosh done, a quick job, I didn’t fancy falling asleep eating again. Some mini pork pies, truffle fries and caramelised onion relish. An apple and lemon curd dessert for afters. Quick, little washing up to do. I was soon in the recliner eating it and ate the lot.

But although I expected to nod-off, it took me longer than for ages, to get to the land of bliss. Don’t know why.

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