Inchcock Today: Whoopsiedangleplops Galore!

Luckily, I’m well on my way… just a few more million to make! Hehehe!

FRIDAY 11th FEBRUARY 2020

04:14hrs, I gave up on getting any sleep, another night of waking-ups with a start. Hey-ho! Raising up my Titanic-like flabby body from the old c1966 recliner, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, but it was nowhere near as urgent as Thursday mornings. Off to the wet room.

The evacuation was messy again; I’ll take another Galpharm later on. I decided to get the Ablutionings done while I was in there. I was doing so well, no teeth pains or breakages, only one tiny nick shaving, and got on with the showering.

Nothing was going to get me down today! I was singing or humming to myself, I believe. Feeling pretty perky… Until I took a tumble, hitting my bone-dome against the control box on the way down. The WC was utilised to get me back up on my tootsies. However, as I dried myself off and did the medicationings, I was definitely singing some Adam Faith songs, as I recall.

Even dropping the olive oil bottle, which did not break and hit my foot, did not get me bothered! No inclination to go into a Smug-Mode, and still I was singing away. I was on ♫ The Time has Come ♫ as I tackled creaming Harold’s Haemorrhoids. There is no bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion, so I just put some Germolene on things. Far less painful! The knees were of no bother much; Cartilage Cathy and Arthur Itis were both as good as gold.

I got some socks on today. I didn’t use the dreaded sock-glide, but I got them on manually. Even that went rather well! Then it was stinging a bit but hardly really painful.

I got the new jumper on… well, it was new a couple of years ago, I got fully dressed, and I was still in a reasonable frame of mind. Which was strange?

I was doing amazingly well today? Got the laundry bag out ready for collection. I even remembered the laundry needed to be assembled for the Carer to collect and that she was due shortly.

To the kitchen, I took an early morning snap of the view from the window. It came out alright too. All this good luck is very worrying, you know! It had to come to an end. Tsk! I gave myself a half-decent toe-stubbing on the server wheels.

I utilised the A&D Medical Supplies, made in China Blood Pressure Monitor this time. SYS 140, Dia 59, Pulse 82. Checked on Google, it said: Your blood pressure reading of 140/59 indicates Hypertension Stage 1. It is the lowest form of high blood pressure. Which suits me! Above 90 is considered high. So, the pulse is just fine! Smug-Mode-Adopted!

Checked the Temperature result on the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer; 32.9°c: Mr Google got me concerned by telling me, “Body temperature below 95°F (35°C) is considered abnormally low, and the condition is known as hypothermia. This happens when your body loses heat faster than it can produce heat. Hypothermia is a medical emergency, which, if left untreated, can lead to brain damage and cardiac failure. But, the body reading has been in the 34/5 range for months now? Hey-ho!

Got the computer on, and Windows updates came in. I clicked on Update-Now and went for a wee-wee. When I got back, I had a green screen, full of what was to me gobbledegook, gibberish and confusing code of some sort, mixed in with the English language, I think. Oh dearie me! I got the camera to take a photo of the waffle, and it disappeared?

I turned it off, and waited awhile, then restarted it. The exact original message about a Windows Update came back on? I clicked on update and reboot. Which it did. Confusionableits! My brain was williwaw ridden! Things seemed to be working, so I pressed on and started updating yesterday’s blog.

Carer Helen (I think) arrived very late. This is perfectly understandable, as she has the laundry to do, so left me till last, saving her walking around with a bag of dirty clothes. Fair enough! She was in a good mood, and we had a mini-natter and raised a few laughs and smiles.

I spent the next, wait for it… six and a half hours, of making a mistake after errors, trying to use the computer! What happened soon took away my temporary Smug-Mode, and brought on annoyance, self-pity and depression. That’s how it hit me! What happened? I’ll tell yer…

Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, who has been really kind to me for several days compared to usual, his nerve-ends played up like never before. There were times when contact was lost and back again so fast, I think I could feel the nerves trying to contact the brain… on and off, off and on… No wonder I’m struggling so with typing. They alternated at sometimes in milliseconds. Shit, it’s doing it again now.

Over the hours, the many hours I’ve spent losing the battle, I’ve dropped a mug of tea, lost finger end contacts on the right-hand several times, no… many times. They returned to communicating with the brain when I having a wee-wee, suffice to say that when this happens, my fingers have the strength of Goliath, and anything I’m holding is done with a grip of iron, and I have to wait, only a few seconds, for the nerve ends to settle. Of course, gripping Little Inchie was terrible timing and painful for me. It brought tears to my own eyes! I am sure I swore loudly, the ‘B’-word, several times in the few seconds I waited to release Little Inchie.

I’ve been trying for a further few hours, but the thinking and writing are hard work, although the nerve breaks seem to be getting less frequent. Then again, there is no consistency to the problem. Let’s face it, I had a good four-hours straight, with the nerve-ends working… or at least I didn’t get any bother from them anyway, earlier in the morning.

No wonder I was so resilient and chirpy, looking back at things.

Tsk! I found the brain was resistant to work for me as well. I’ve just found these photos I can’t remember taking; never mind putting them on file? Well, not the cloud one.

I think I took the end car park early on, cause it’s so dark. I vaguely recall doing it the more I look at it. The one above from the kitchen window… the memory is blank.

Not only these, but I also found this, a macro snap, the first I’ve ever tried. I wonder if I lost some of it when the windows update cocked things up? I was sure I’d put it in the blog earlier, really early in the day?

The Carer is due in about an hour; I’ve not had anything to eat and am feeling, well, not poorly, but uncomfortable, nervous. I’m going to get some food done.

I struggled a bit with getting the food prepared. It took me a good while to get the nosh cooked and served up. At least Peripheral Neuropathy nerve-ends began to settle a little. Getting back, I hope to the random scene of touch loss, which is easier to live with.

Over the half-hour or so, I took these sunset pictures, rapidly getting darker with each shot I took.

Getting the meal served onto the tray, it dawned on me; I’ve not taken a wee-wee for about an hour now! Amazing!

The cheese, leek & potatoes Pukka pie was delicious. Another mixture of three types of tomatoes: yellow, straight red, and brown. All tasty in their own way. Chips, I used some oddments left in bags in the freezer, canned garden peas. A pot of orange jelly and some spray cream were taken for dessert. A Taste Rating of 7/10.

After eating and washing up the pots, it was time for my TV viewing; My favourite, Heartbeat, had come on Channel Ten. Naturally, I fell asleep at the first set of commercials.

The door chime ringing out ♫”Oh, Susana”♫ woke me up, and Carer Helen came in. The gal seemed a little vacant as we pretended to chinwag. No interest really, bless her. She’s returned the washed and folded laundry and had more for other people outside the door I discovered, so she was in busy mode, bless her. Said thank you, treated, and my farewells. Put the laundry in the other room, too tired to bother putting things away yet.

I gave up on watching Heartbeat, now there is a first! I was just too tired and took advantage, and fell asleep, in hopes of staying that way for a change.

But, no! Minutes after nodding off into blissful sleep, I needed a wee-wee. I utilised the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and got back down in the c1966, none-working, rickety recline

I’d just nodded off again… and the landline burst into flashing! I fought my way out of the uncomfortable, grungy beige recliner, grabbed Metal Micky and got to the landline; “Hello?” No reply, but I think I could hear talking in the background… “Hello, can I help you?” No response, so I tried a third time… “Hello?” At which the receiver was noisily replaced at the other end of the line? Humph!

Sweet Morpheus had not heard my prayer, obviously. Back to the chair yet again… but could I get to sleep now? No! The Thought-Storms began, and they blasted away and lasted for a long time. As I’d found a cure for the virus, brought world peace, and reinstated the death penalty for murderers… I nodded off again.

It lasted for half an hour or so, and the ♫”Oh, Susana’♫ tune chirped up. By the time I’d got out of the recliner, stubbed my toe and got to the door, not surprisingly, there was no one there! I couldn’t see any message or notes put through the door… and almost sobbed on the way back to the recliner…

Nodded off soon enough, but woke up with a start – panicking that I’d left a tap running somewhere. (No logic to this, Vascular Dementia Doreen inspired, I think?) Checked the kitchen and wet room, both without any running taps (faucets), and back, wearily, to the recliner.

Unbelievable! I then needed to use the Porcelain Throne! Not only that, but it was another messy, gooey affair that cost me ages in cleaning up myself and the wet room furniture!

Finally, I drifted off once more. In the next five hours, I only woke up four times, which is doing better than of late.

On the next awakening, I was instantly gripped in a panic; “Had I left the oven on?” No choice for it, I had to drag my weary, flabby-bellied body in a clamber out of the recliner, and go to the kitchenette to check the oven! All was safe!

I returned, feeling anhedonia and self-annoyance, and decided not to bother getting back into the recliner. Got the kettle on the boil, and settled on the computer to update this blog… then, the belated wee-wees started…Granglesbognessbuggerit!

Inchcocks True Tales Of Woe

Inchcock Today: Monday 7th February 2022

Inchcock Today

Monday 7th February 2022

Another wicked nights sleep… although I did nod off about ten times, it’s just the repeated jumping back into wakefulness that annoys me. Another few nights of this, and I’ll have to beg the Doctor to see me. I’ve got her phone number, but I’ve not seen her for a while… now what’s her name? Hehe! Hope I can remember where the surgery is.

I lay there musing of this and that, then realised how late it was. I’m sure there was something I had to remember this morning… But the urgent need of the Porcelain Throne arose.

First, I had to remove my pyknic-shaped grossly stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, and catch my balance; which, considering my need for the toileting, was a long job. Risky, in fact, when Dizzy Dennis had me sat back down against my will, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids took a thudding, I genuinely feared the bowels may take action of their own accord! The second attempt was a success. I grabbed Metal Mickey and made my way cautiously but as fast as I dared to the wet room.

The bowels controlled the release – quick, splashy, leaving a mild churning in the stomach, all over in seconds. And what a messy job it was! Amazingly not a stinky-poo affair, though. Which surprised me somewhat, considering how the innards were still suffering after the evacuation had been completed?

A mammoth cleaning up was then needed. I did find some small areas that were splash-free, but not too many… that includes my rump and legs! An entire newly started toilet roll was needed, then the washing and disinfecting of my parts. Finally, the wet room furniture, escapage and squirts from the floor were done. This was not a good start to the day.

All refreshed, I meandered into the kitchenette, and I got the kettle on the boil. Feeling a smidge queasy now. So I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana instead of Glengettie (It’s not as strong as Glengettie is).

I left the teabag soaking to brew and took a photograph of the morning sky. Then noticed the sun was out high in the sky to my left, so got the Canon on the go again. A three-quarter moon, Tim Price will know what and this is. I live on in ignorance, but I love seeing the moon. Later on, I went into the balcony to take pictures of the morning view after it got a little lighter.

The first shot I took before opening any of the windows. The whole place instantly misted over as I opened the sliding balcony doors.

Hehehe! The view towards Nottingham City Centre had a fabulous hue to it. Not inductive to taking good photographic images, although, of course, this could be just my lack of skills, or better to blame the ailments or camera, yes?

I was impressed again with the end car parkers efforts to create artistic creations of how not to park. Haha!.

I took the brew of Punjana with me to the computer and got on with updating yesterdays blog. I spent an hour or more on it and had to nip back into the wet room again and use the Throne once more! Furthermore, it was a slow process, with Peripheral Neuropathy Pete kicking in and out with the senses of touch.

A lot cleaner this time, but still sloppy. Leaving the wet room, I gave Shuddering Shoulder Shirley a decent bang against the doorframe… Which set Shirley off for a while, but not too painful this time; bless her.

Washed, and as I got back to the computer, Carer Richard entered the flat. Nice to see this lad. We have a lot of things in common. We even share that both of us have Phimosis and Diabetes and are suffering from sleep deprivation in the same way; we keep repeatedly waking up with a jump; thus, getting any rest is not easy. Worse for Richard, with him still working for a living. Cheered me up with that thought! Hehehe!

Richard gave me the prescriptions, and I asked for a Galpharm anti-diarrhorea capsule; in fact, I took two, hoping to curtail Trotsky Terence a bit. I find this brand effective compared to the others I’ve tried… and a reasonable price, too.

I sensed that Richard was a smidge down in the dumps this morning, so I tied to cheer him up a bit. Gave him some extra treats and a bottle of flavoured spring water. He seemed brighter when he left. Taking the waste bags out with him to the chute for me.

I stopped computing and got the ablutions medications tended to. Now Hear This: I forgot to do the teeth, but and however… I did the shaving without a single nick or cut in sight!!! Class One, Grade A, Smug Mode Adopted!

Of course, that didn’t last long. Grunglecuds! Not sure which order these darned Whoopsiedangleplops took place. But this is what I managed to do while in the wet room:

  • Stubbed my toe in the shower against the server trolley.
  • Knocked the bleach over, and the bottle split. To ages to get it cleaned up.
  • Cut down the fingernail with the scrubbing (nail) brush.
  • Slipped and banged Cartilage Cathy’s patella!
  • Water not draining away very well in the shower.
  • Again, I stubbed my toe against the server trolley in the shower.
  • And yet again, on leaving the wet room after cleaning it up, I managed to walk into the door frame without any effort whatsoever! Things are not going well here!

Back on the computer, well behind with everything now. Got a belt-on with the blogging again…About two hours or so later… ♫Oh, Susana♫ chimed forth from the door chime.

It was ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Obergruppenfürheress and Lap-Top Dancer) Warden Deana. It seems that poor old Jean, or Joan, in the flat below, has water coming in through the ceiling of her wet room… I immediately thought I must have left the tap on! I admit I was sure I must have… panic struck me as we both went into the wet room to check things out!

A couple of months ago, I did leave the tap running, and it flooded the poor gal out; the guilt increased, shame as well…

But hen we got in,  as I say, I fully expected to see a flood of water filling the place, as before… Everything looked normal to Deana; I was just flummoxed yet relieved, oh, so relieved I’d not left the tap running!

The mysteries of Winwood Heights strikes again! The ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock, creating ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes, botherations, to scare and worry the living daylights out of me. Confuse me, too!

I managed to get visits to Facebook, TFZer and Winwood Heights sites done. Get caught up with the WordPress reader. Then ended up making an order for Amazon. I found a new product on Amazon that should, well, it claims can help restful sleep! So I ordered one for Carer Richard and for me.

Then got the Health Checks done, albeit terribly belatedly.

The BP was another pleasing result. Sys 130, Dia 56, Pulse 72. Very good! 😍

The body temperature on the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer, showed 33.4°c, yet another good result, methinks. 😍

It won’t be long before the evening Carer is due. So I went to make myself a good strong brew of Glengettie.

Took this photo of the evening view from the kitchen window.

Then this one, of the apparently underused central car park on Chestnut Walk. And the staff, Meridian and Nottingham City Homes, will have gone home. There must be a lot of folks still working, though.

It’s getting late now. I wonder what happened to the day? Where did it go? Hehe! Then, I took another shot of a similar view to the first one because the lighting had changed so much in such a short time.

I went on CorelDraw and opened the YourArea Emagazine from the Emails to see if any news items were worth making and saving for graphics to use in tomorrow’s blog. There were.

Care Olivier arrived, only her second calling on me. Nice young gal.

Got my nosh of sorts sorted out. It’s been a long day, and I was feeling somewhat drained now. There was no energy or inspiration for anything complicated, so I had some potatoes (buttered) and a pot noodle.

Changed ready for the head-down, got seated in the unwelcome recliner and… ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ from the door buzzer chimed away. An emergency plumber, from the Joans/Jeans flat below, to have a look at the possible reason for the leak. He did find a leak that he corrected, but he didn’t think that it would have been bad enough to have caused the damage that the gal suffered. Hmm?

I started to watch a Crime Documentary on the goggle-box… ZZZ!

Inchcock Today: Diary, including the Evening Dream – In Ode

Saturumday 5th February 2022

INCHCOCK TODAY

Back to the horrible nocturnalisationings, like sleeping poorly, again! Oh boy, am I pissed off with this or what! I spent more time awake than asleep last night!

Endlessly waking up with a jump, then working out what time and day it was, and where I was! It was soul-destroying. I should think I must have woken at least two dozen times, more often than not needing a wee-wee! Cursing at my situation every time! Then just when I decided to get up, I fell asleep for the most extended period all night! It lasted for about an hour.

Amazingly, I rose from the uncomfortable depths of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner, with almost ease! There was a complete absence of any hassle from Reflux Roger, Anne Gyner, Toothache Thomas, Duodenal Donald, Shaking Shaun (although he had a few goes at me later in the morning).

Caught my balance and checked on the legs because Arthur Itis and CCP (Cartilage Cathy’s Patella) were both giving me pain the moment I got any weight (And I’ve plenty of that!) on the plates and pins. Vasculitis and venous thromboembolism, and veins were remarkable by their absence!

But it seemed that only CCP and Arthur were worth worrying about. Grrreat!

Indeed, both feet looked in such a fine state I had to take a photo of them. Were they really mine?

This doesn’t happen very often, so I was already preparing to go into Smug-Mode!), that the J Sainsbury order is due this morning, and I don’t have a lot of time to prepare for them, with my getting up so late. Partly dressed (that’s as far as I got all day, Tsk!), I wandered hobblingly into the kitchenette to make a brew of Glengettie. It came to mind…

While the kettle was boiling, I took this snap of the morning view, catching the edge of the window frame to give a perspective of the actual sizing. I’ve forgotten why I thought of doing this now.

As I turned to get the kettle, CCP gave way in the right knee; boy, did she pain me! The knee nearly gave way a few more times as well. I’m hoping nothing like last week with Cathy popping out of her patella socket happens again. The whole joint was aching for hours after this? Mmm?

I made a brew and had a mug of Thompsons Punjana. Took it with me to the computer and made a start on finalising yesterdays blog. And before I could get to drink it, “♫ Oh, Susana… ♫” music chimed up from the door buzzer. It was Carer Cassandra; she was in a much lighter mood this morning. (Meridian Health & Social Care do not have any bosses on duty at the weekend, and Nottingham City Homes have no ILCs (Independent Living Coordinators) working weekends either). I assume that this is why the Carers are a little more cheerful? Unless, of course, some Carer has not turned up or left the job (a lot of them do that!), and that they have been called in to cover, of course. Haha!

Cassie soon got the medications sorted, and we even ad a little natter… well, I did. Har-har! Cassie departed, taking my waste bag with her, and I went to make another mug of tea…

I knocked over the milk bottle, but it only fell on its side, which I appreciated muchly and took a photo of it to prove that I do sometimes have good luck… in a way.

The intercom flashed; I presume it sounded as well, but I couldn’t hear it. Pressed the release button, and within two minutes, the ♫Oh Susana♫ tune rang forth again”. Grand deliveryman took the boxes through to the kitchen for me. Only four items missing out of stock this week. Much better than last week’s 14! Got the fresh stuff sorted and stored away in the fridge. The fridge is now looking well-stocked again but not overloaded.

A few items of cleaning and bleaching were put in the cupboards in the wet room and kitchenette.

Putting the canned cupboard supplies away cost me a lot of time. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s nerve ends lost contact a few times while I reached up to put them on the shelves.

In fact, I ended up throwing a couple of items up to the top shelf, but I don’t think anything broke.

Having said that, I’m sure I have more than a few dented cans in there now. However, I’m well off for kinds of vinegar seasonings and have a few cans of various vegetables to fall back on… not literally mind. Although, if CCP (Cartilage Cathy’s Patella) has her way, shell have me over some time today. I can feel her efforts, little twinges, in readiness to floor me!

MedPhorpainGot the fodder away and applied some of the impotent, not fit for the job, but better than nothing, Phorpain gel rubbed well into the kneecap vicinity. I also took an extra Codeine 30g tablet. Because each time I put pressure in the joint, I can now feel a sort of grating from within the knee. Along with the seconds long periods of it feeling like it’s going to give, then it comes back? Ah well, fingers crossed!

I took a couple of pictures from inside the balcony. Of the end car park and Chestnut Walk below the front of the building. The red van man continues to park on the yellow hatched area and the White hatchback on the double yellow lines. And they say young men are bad drivers?

Whilst doing the blog, the lighting charged rather quickly outside.

Took a photograph of the changed sky colouring. I think this means rain on the way?

The weather made a liar of me within ten minutes, the sky turned blue, and a contrail showed up. Caught it with the Canon.

Back on the computer, I heard a clattering noise to accompany Herberts tap-tapping. I was sure it came from the kitchen, so I got up to investigate the clatterings source. But without any success, I’m afraid.

I had a go on Facebooking, Winwood Heights and the TFZer site. After about an hour or so, a loud (well, it would have to have been for me to hear it) similar metallic-sounding noise was heard again? I got a little confused as I could listen to Herbert above knocking away again. But, I felt the metallic sounds were coming from the kitchen. But, again, could find no cause of them?

All a part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghost, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, and pretentious, uppity, snobby, pernickety, smug, stuck-up, neighbour above, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? I really believe that it did not come from the sanctified, consecrated, uncommunicative, ascetic, eremitic, aloof, arrogant slimeballs apartment above. Mmm?

I thought later, could it be the contents of the food cupboards that I could not get in the cupboard properly?

So, off into the kitchenette for yet another investigation.

As I searched each cupboard again, silence fell from Herbert’s flat. Oh, I hope he’s not dropped dead or is poorly… Ahem!

I couldn’t find owt not in order, or that could have caused the mystery racket?

The expected rain was coming down.

Decided to do the Medical Checks and just look at the BP figures that I got from the sphygmomanometer!

The lowest I’ve ever had! Brilliant! But baffling.

This follows a series of readings: SYS 168 Dia 62, SYS 148 Dia 76, SYS 149 Dia 62, now the excellent SYS 117 Dia 66! Yee-Haa! Fully in the Green for the first time ever!

The pulse was 74, and the body temperature 34.6°c. I think that is okay too!

Then I gave the knee another covering of the Phorpain gel.

The right knee still looked a smidge knobbly and was still a grating feeling when I applied any pressure as I walked. It doesn’t look or feel like it

is Arthur Itis playing up, rather more as if it is Cartilage Cathy.

However, the spider and veins were all looking well down today. The DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) clumps had disappeared!

Blimey, where’s the time gone to? The Carer will be here soon, and I’m not changed or had anything to eat yet! I treated myself to a lemon Viennese biscuit.

Got the oven on to use later to cook the beef pastie and some chips. Then plodded on with updating this blog.

A short bout of noise from Herbert. He just wants me to know that I have no chance of him stopping making noise, Bless Him!

I was preparing the late nosh, when the sound of ♫Oh, Susana♫, indicated the arrival of the evening Carer, Valerie tonight. I remembered I had an Easter Egg for her in the spare room, and I fetched it for her. She read some dates of the food in the kitchen for me, all were in date. Phew! She sorted the medications for me and was soon off, but tonight we did manage a mini natter, which was nice. Valerie took the waste bags to the chute with her. ♥

I got the meal finished and served onto the plate and tray. A sourdough baguette for one, which was delightfully tasty! BBQ seasoned sliced potatoes, yellow and red tomatoes.  I put a pot of dipping sauce on the tray, mainly for the sourdough-dipping. Hehe! The Cornish pastie was a different one this time. J Sainsbury’s pack of four. It shamed Iceland’s and Morrison’s ones, and had real flavour with not too much spicing in it… oh, and the sliced mini-bits of spuds were nice to the palette. A pleasant surprise for me. Overall, a Flavour-Rating of 8.2/10… got to be precise on these things. Hehehe!

The sleep was better than of late. Only about six shooting-awakes all night. On the last one, I woke remembering some bits of a dream I’d been having. There is an Ode to the Dream Ode, I wrote in the morning:

Ode to the Dream Ode

It’s a long time since I recalled summat I was dreaming,
In a room with many folks, like at a housewarming…
Female admirers around me were swarming!
Even in the dream, I didn’t become assuming…
Why me, all around were young men, convening,
Every one of them, the ladies were declining…
I could tell, to the lads, this was disheartening…
Even to me, this was a little disquietening!
It is me, that the girls wanted to be entwining…
What the heck is going on, happening?
One of the girls was particularly endearing…
Plump gal, about 35, and we hid, our bodies exploring…
She said she was pleased I chose her…Amazing!
How come all the girls suddenly find me appealing?
She said, Helen, I think, it was because of your blogging?
And we started cuddling and snogging…
“But, why, Helen?” I couldn’t resist inquiring…
“We’re all after your recipe for cheesy potatoes, darling!”
Which put an end to our session of pleasuring…
The dream seemed to morph into another rumination,
I was underground in a massive cave, fireflies flickering…
In the dark shadows in and out of view, flittering…
What, who they were, teased my imagination…
I searched, but I could not catch them, disheartening!
I could hear them babbling, mayhaps alien talking?
Aliens or ghosts, either way, I needed verification…
For the fireflies, they seemed to have an affection?
Then I heard a new sound, all around, tintinnabulation,
Damn it, the dream moved on to a railway station!
I was obviously waiting for a train,
Luggage around me, but no ticket to use, who to blame?
Searched my pockets, again and again…
My panic was becoming a pain…
The announcer said something about a train to Dunblane?
Walking on the platform, I saw Neville Chamberlain?
Waving an Amazon card at me, the dream started to wane…
I wanted to stay, learn 1940’s life, I tried to remain…
But, Herbert’s banging about woke me up again!

The Nottingham Lad’s Diary – With Odeing

Medieval Two-Sleeps – With Ode to it

I am not a historian, intellectual, or even satisfactorily educated Nottinghamian. But for some reason, I clicked on this when I opened the computer. I was fascinated with this medieval habit of taking two sleeps. And finding out why they did so. I just had to share the link below. I put in the first few paragraphs.

BBC Two Sleeps

By Zaria Gorvett – 10th January 2020

The forgotten medieval habit of ‘two periods of sleep

I hope you can time to have a nip through this. It has kicked off a desire for me to find out more.

ODE TO TWO-SLEEPS

I came across this fascinating article, by chance,
Despite twixt me and education, there’s no relevance,
It got my brain going with interest and considerance,
To learn more of how mankind lived, in its nascence
Detailed facts of what they had to experience…

No drains, running water, out of the window with the effluence!
Of course, there were murders, muggings and fraudulence…
Someone tipping pee on you would cause some incongruence?
They’d not recognise it, but there must have been dissonance?
They’d send you to the madhouse without any evidence…
The local barber would pull your teeth without competence!
Then charge you as much as threepence!

I imagine the pubs would have a smell of abhorrence?
But they’d all stink, so it made little difference…
The brewers cleaned the vats with bleach: Commonsense?
Many citizens died, as a consequence,
Death Certificated: ‘Death by flatulence!’
In a highly abbreviated form of Latin, hence… poignance,
Not that many could read English, no chance!

Back to the Two-Sleep Theme

I wish I could have had two last night…
I nodded of quick enough and woke at midnight…
From then on, sleeping for more than five minutes was a fight!
I lost count of the wakening, expecting to see the dawnlight,
Each waking, I felt pretty sprite,
Not a single wee-wee, something wasn’t right!
The minutes crawled, tried to get back to sleep… well, I might!
My silently-mouthed cursing was pretty unerudite,
Waking up every ten-minute, made me annoyed and contrite,
Still, Little Inchie unused, the fungal lesion, caused disquiet,
I was awake more than asleep in hindsight – it made me uptight!
Not had such a lousy night for at least a fortnight…
Nattering to myself, nonsense mostly, proper blatherskite!
I wish I could have had just a two-minutes-sleep last night…

A Few Recent Photos

Last Nights Sunset.

Last Nights Sunset.

The J, Sainsbury’s Order Arrived. What came was nice enough, reasonable dates on those I could manage to read the date of.

But just look at the unavailable items!

A rainbow, around midday.

Then…

Another toothed came out of its own accord.

Got to phone the Cardiac DVT Unit. I might be back, as Arni Said! Oh, no, that was I will be back! Tsk!

Inchcock: Local News Snippets in Ode

This week the News Snippets are reported, recorded and commented on, by The Nottingham Pensioner Lad, Inchcock (89).

Alto-Ego Inchy: I apologise for the Odeing included in the comments. But the lad has had minimal education. Now, with him contracting Vascular Dementia, as well as various other ailments; Hearing aids, mechanical ticker fitted, Glaucoma, Saccades, Cataracts, Stroke, Peripheral Neuropathy. His tendency to either waffle on, lose the plot or regularly forgets what he was doing, where he is, or where he was going; does not make for readable poetry. But there’s no stopping him. He only sulks when I point out these and other failings to him. Sorry.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Well, this looks good,
Be happy surely we should?
Read the next one and chew the cud!
Your interpretation will go down with a thud!

I’m aware of how they feel, every patient,
I’m waiting on may a medical appointment,
Dentist, Chiropodist, Doctors yearly check…
That’s been a wait of three years, by, heck!
Audio, DVT and Cardiac…
Then the operation on the cataracts,
Glaucoma and Saccades and the Diabetes in fact…
Will I live long enough to get my treatments?

Sozzled, drugged up, and a man with a violent bent,
But will there be a return to prison requirement?
Easier for him to get drugs in there for his sustainment?
Maybe they’ll offer him some mental treatment?
Tell him sorry if this is inconvenient…
Give him some cocaine and pay his rent?

Run of the mill stuff, for the Nottingham creed,
I understand that he was a gynaecologist,
Nothing suspicious, the chap wasn’t a druggist…
Police won’t look too far into this…
With nine officers attacked and on the sick list!

The Police and I…
Have no idea why,
So sorry the lad had to die…
RIP son… It makes you cry!

No matter why – Animals!

All this violence, drugs, gangs, I comprehend?
Slave importers, youths will re-offend…
No deterrent do the courts send…
Viciousness threatens, it’s today trend…
And I think it will only worsen!
A judge was I thought the only person…
Who could, these crimes amend…
But no, so I’m scared and disheartened!.

Self-Centred Scum!

Well, this is interesting news for Sherwood…
A 48% increase in crime figures, should…
make my blood boil, make me angry and rude!
I’m not surprised, I’ve not seen a policeman since May!
Didn’t even see one on Tuesday…
Plenty of yobboes lurking…
Don’t suppose they are working?
I just pray they don’t mug me today!.


Raliegh, John Players, Debenhams, Topshop, Oasis, WH Smith, Burton & Dorothy Perkins, River Island, Banks closing down, Virgin Media sold to Liberty Global and has been ruined by them, Macintoshes, Rowntrees, Frys, Cadburys all sold to Nestles…

But fret not, we have 14 new takeaway shops opened… even though 12 went bankrupt in the last year?

Well, looking at my arm that’s encouraging.

So, basically, she’s got 25 days, what an hour a session? Going to some Community Centre; probably gets a free meal, and she can do some drug trading at the same time. I assume that courts will be providing her with a taxi both ways?

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets in Ode

Inchcock’s Odes to Why?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

WHY COVID?

Covid-19 and Sars-CoV-2, why they came, is what I’m thinking?
Government confused findings, need reabsorbing…
Pandemic and HMG hold a party, hobnobbing?
Annoyed me, so this Ode I’m now scribing…
Yet, to their rules, I’ve been acquiescing,
Two years now, since any Doctor interfacing,
Definites, the Government are sidestepping?
I feel like I’m permanently convalescing,
Anti-maskers are not exactly applauding…
Anti-vaccers protests showing no signs of concluding,
Jab or mask-wearing? Some are not deciding…
I follow the guidelines, but it can be confusing,
Doing what you can to protect others is frustrating,
Between the Do’s and the Don’ts, there’s bile offloading,
No give or understanding of others, compassion is subsiding,
Sarcasticness abounds, even where I am residing!

Coronavirus arrives, HMG problems beginning,
Changes meant more hassle, problems teething,
Proletariats, needing hopes strengthening,
Some vague chance of things improving…
New strains, deaths, started the mudslinging…
Ordinary voters started teeth-gnashing,
Anti-vaxxers and maskers began badmouthing,
But some uncaring folks just started shrugging,
Accusing HMG of ignorance and gross mismanaging,
The businesses set out to gain more profit – I’m seething!
Indeed, we should be encouraging, not rubbishing?

Official figures are baffling and misleading,
Dyscalculia makes it difficult in reading…
Have the Governments been Shanghaiing?
In favour of financing, from businesses and banking?
Are their advisors’ advising wrongly and failing?
Does their arriere-pensee to us need rethinking?
How do they stop the money-men from sabotaging?
The bankers, investors from profit-pocketing?
Indeed it’s impossible to stop them interfering and scavenging?

And, whatever’s happened to the political duelling?
No calls from Labour, as Kinnock would have been lambasting?
Lib-Dems are still about, are they? I’m just asking!
I think I worked it out; why is the silence blasting?
They both think, thank heavens, we are not ruling…
All this confusion, entangling… they’ve no idea of detangling,
So give Boris no bother, or at the subsequent voting…
The masses may vote for us, and we win… nonplussing!
The thought of us dealing with things is blood-curdling!
Labour in power, cause enough for frightful caterwauling!
Well, that’s enough of my HMG & Covid caterwauling,
Not such a good Ode, this one, it left me… Tsking!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

WHY AM I SO UNLUCKY?

I’ll start with one event, the heart thing,
That was not unlucky; it did not leave me whining!
This operation saved my life… Else I’d have been missing…
The Hernia, Peripheral Neuropathy and Colin Cramping,
Cancer of the bladder, and stroke, and a lot of bemoaning. Hehe!

Being an unlucky sod can be so time-consuming,
Leaving very little time left for resting and vacuuming,
A Whoopsiedangleplop, maybe the Thought Storms brewing…
A memory loss, missed bus, lost keys or painful burping…
From near-deadly to a tap left running or finger burning,
Ailments, senility and old age means the end of by beep-bopping,
The worst is Vascular Dementia, the brain transitioning…

My diabetes and oedema cause much bother urinating,
Each morning, the feet will be either bloated or very thin,
It’s not so bad since I stopped doing my trampolining,
The tumbling or fallings is constantly threatening…

Neuropathy and Shaking Shoulder Shirley are disquietening!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I regularly get subconjunctival haemorrhaging,
Saccades and the new eye problems are definitely worrying,
Floaters, cataracts and glaucoma, almost frightening!
Everything taking longer to do, from the ablutioning…
Painful bending to retrieve dropped items can sting!
Oh, and evacuations on the Throne, and Wee-weeing!

I nearly always cut myself shaving,
Sometimes taking many minutes peeing…
Occasionally, taking only seconds at urine freeing!
The Porcelain Throne, often with evacuation misfunctioning.

Porcelain Throne options for me are; water-like spurting…
Which can be over like lighting!
Or resistant, rock-hard, and bloody,
Either or both are constantly hurting and agony!

Cleaning, me or the flat internally, is so burdening,
Seems nowadays to take an eternity, and much groaning,
Hardly any time for my beloved Word Pressing,
My confidence is egringolering…
My hearing is worsening…
Every task’s success is gimping!

The leaking blood through the plaster was bubbling!
But it was not at all troubling…
Cause actually, it made me do some laughing…
Which I found rather refreshing!

Inchcocks’ True Odes to Life Series

Inchcocks Future Fun Newspaper Headlines

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Future Sports, Covidity, and Politics, unsung,
Including Boris, Cummings, even Cameron,
I threw myself into creating these, then the phone rung…
Told me the Bank is closing its branch… that’ll be fun!
A bill from the Council, Carers Fees, that stung!
Two weeks ago, Meridian arranged a direct debit…
About as reliable as Norman Tebbit!

Here they are; I hope you get a smile from;

Inchcocks Future Fun Newspaper Headlines

I fang You!

Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series

An Alto Ego & Inchies Id Argument

I’m leaving it up to Alto-Ego and Inchie ID to do the blog today. I may add something afterwards, but I’m suffering the dreaded, loathed DD (Dracula Depression) this morning. As annoying as this is, trying to find out why is equally disconcerting. As far as I can tell, nothings changed from last night? Humph!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Well, ID, can you explain summat to me?

What? I thought you were Mr Perfect?

You’ve actually got an advantage over me with this problem, Pugface!

Oh, go on then barbed-wire tongue…. let’s hear it, more sarcasm or criticism, is it?

No, no, no. I’ll explain, mate…

Mate! You just called me, mate!

Are you going to answer me or what? Just cause you’re a thick knob-end of an Ego, doesn’t mean we can’t still be pals. Let’s face it, the more we learn, the more we can pester the life out of Inchcock, innit? So we should help each other learn even more things that will irritate our host… Yes?

Go on then, your taking my Inchcock aggravating time away…

No, I’ve just popped into his pathetic brain; he’ll not be up to or responsive to any joshing, bewildering, bamboozling, or distracting this morning…

Just a cotton-picking minute ID, that’s the things we love to do…

I know, but there are some things even more potent than wot we are, and he’s…

He’s got to live a few more years, at all costs, cause if he snuffs it too soon, or even if Inchcock finds some contentment… the IDAEC (Alto-Ego-Consortium) Guidelines, Rules and Cautionary Advice 112,145,23 will come into force. I’ll end up back in the Soul Bank Vaults, for God knows how many years again! So I…

Well, that’s your advantage. I was going to talk about it mush!

Yer, wot?

If you cock-it-up, a couple of hundred years in the Soul Bank Vaults, is nothing – If I gerrit wrong, that’s it, end of this Id, altogether. We don’t get transferred to another human-host yer know! Oh, no, it’s a harsh existence for us Ids.

So? Worrya saying like? I could be in there for thousands of years. You are aware that the only hosts there are cockroaches, ants and rats, are yer?

So what’s wrong with that, then?

I won’t be as easy as host Inchcock; the cockroaches are cleverer than he is!

Hahaha! I just listened to him, you know, a while ago. He was talking to his pets! No, honestly! He really was; I’m not jesting Alto, I even think he heard them answering him, too!

No harm… he loves them, it’s a human trait yer know, or do yer? He does that every morning… Unless he’s had trouble in the Porcelain Throne, that is. There’s no problem with that…

Hogglebogwash! How long can he be in the toilet, for heaven sake?

Well, if his evacuation is one of his rock-solid ones, up to about an hour, on occasions, he’s taken longer. When his fungal lesion bleeds, yer see, he has a grossly painful job on, stopping and medicating things…

Gangleboggleisations! Get yersen in the bog; you can pester him while he’s struggling. Give him hell! Bloody heck, a perfect opportunity for giving out some pilgarlic, pooh-pooing, heckling, vilification and raillery. Hahaha! He won’t be able to concentrate on his Porcelain Throne duties at all – Hehehe! Why we could…

Come off it, you know nothing about my host, does yer? You’ve been in this monstrous wobbly-bellied, old idiot for a week now, but yer not learning owt are yer?

Oh, you are, I suppose, yer gerrin’ as thick and decrepit as Inchcock is, pal… yer on the wane, mentally…

You thick swine, on the wane mentally? What else does yer expect? You might have noticed that neither of us is human. We are ethereal, diaphanous beings, or are you not aware of this?

Watch it pug-face, or I’ll report you to the IDAEC (ID-Alto-Ego-Consortium). You know full well what I meant! I was speaking figuratively, interpretatively, metaphorically, As you are fully aware of; Thunderglobberisations! I thought we’d agreed to be social wiv each other?

Who did? Not me! I’ve not got over you lying to me last week yet… You promised if I signed the IDAEC Guidelines & Cautionary Advice Procedure Adherence 112,145,23, you’d leave this host forever… but no, you are a snotty-nosed ID, aren’t you, so superior… But you being a defrauding, backstabbing, double-crossing, untrustworthy Id that you are, should be reported, not me! Git!

I think you’ve been with this host, Inchcock, for far too long, my old fruitcake! You should just report yourself to the IDAEC as a failure. You’re catching a human beings ailments, such as dementia… No, let me continue…Testicles! If I could, I’d like to tear your head off!.

We’ve already agreed that we are both emblematical, selectively apparitional beings. So tearing my head of would be pointless, don’t you think?

I’m not so sure, Meathead, having never tried to kill anyone before, and as far as I know, no other Id before me has. Perhaps some form of transubstantiating has taken place over the years, and we have acquired the ability to tear off an Alto-Ego’s head? Hehehe!

The same goes for tearing off the head of an Id, indeed?

Ah, I see what you mean. We could, in fact, make history, be the first Id and Alto-Ego to kill each other? Or at least give it a go?

There you go again; you’ve got no morals, have you? What about your Id Oath what you took in training, eh?

Erm, I can’t remember that; it was over three thousand years ago, Dumbo!

Ha! A whippersnapper! Well, for your information, I started off as an Id…

Oh, did you, my friend?

Shut-it! I took the Id oath myself over 5,000 years ago. I seem to remember it went something like, “I shall occupy the given human body as instructed, with the intent of making the host into a big-headed, greedy, parasitic personage within the given period as prescribed by the IDAECC (ID-Alto-Ego-Consortium-College) Trainer on this day (dated). Convincing the host mentioned above that England will win the world cup again, all Politicians will become trustworthy, and America will land a human-crewed rocket with 5000 paying passengers on board on Mars, at the cost of $3.” You remember that bit, Inchie-Id?

No, and I didn’t miss any lectures or training sessions.

Anyway, it’s time I checked on Inhchcock…

No problem, I can hear him talking to his Carers.

Anyway, what was this question you had for me then? Id my old flower?

Oh, yes… I was a little concerned about why the human hosts always get drunk, stabbing or running over other hosts in their tinned transport, each New Year? And why do they welcome getting older so merrily and fire off flaming fireworks into the sky?

Ah, well, it wasn’t always like that, you know…

Tell me what used to happen in the old days Inchie, I’m confused.

Well, in days of yore, the human hosts always get drunk on mead, stab someone, and run over other hosts with the horses and stagecoaches transport, each New Year? And why do they welcome getting older so merrily and fire flaming fireworks into the sky? Then they welcomed in the new year merrily and fire flaming fireworks into the sky?

Well, I never knew that!.

Hello… Inchcocks took a tumble in the shower…

Bags, I get to annoy him first!

Rollock’s!

Me first, being the youngest, Crab-Nose!

You got that arse-about-faced as well! The old ones should get priority!

Arse-about-faced… I like it!

We’ll go together, but I get first scoffing, sneering at, chastising Inchcock?

That’s fair enough, mate, as long as you leave the laughing at and humiliating comments in?.

Done, cocker!

Great mate!

The now two best pals floated through the wall into the wet room with this. But…

Oh, Sod-It! A lot of blood; I think he might be dead?

After all that planning, and arguing too!

Take a close look, see if he’s breathing…

How does yer do that then? I’ve never tried to help a host before?

I’m not sure… erm…

It’s your fault, all that being obstreperous with me!

Clackers!

Bog-Knobs!

Well, one of us must wait around until someone finds the body…

Why?

We’ve got to report it to the IDAEC (ID-Alto-Ego) Records Dep’t…

Why are they going to make a song about it?

Someone might make a song and dance about it, but me? I’ll be back in the IDAEC (ID-Alto-Ego-Consortium) Soul Bank Vaults.

Ain’t these human hosts heartless, dying just like that!

Pigs!

Baskets!

Does yer think the Carers will find him int morning then?

I suppose so… hang on, where’s he keep the cans of plonk for the Carers?

Oh, yes, what does yer fancy mate, Vodka and lime. G & T, Pimms, Mojito, Tequila beer, Strongbow, or Rum & Coke, Id?.

Yea!

Inchies Make Them Laugh Series

TTFN

Inchcock Today: 2022 Cometh

2022 Cometh

No one asked it, too – but it came all the same!

Friday 31 December 2021

Inchcock’s computer was doing odd things again,
Inchie knows it is doomed; he feels the pain,
Still, he’s got his other worries, Morphine and Lidocaine,
Everything nowadays confuses him; facts are so hard to retain!
His efforts to improve his memory have all been in vain,
But Inchies determination to survive remains unslain,
Then he stubbed his toe, lost his key, then a tumble again!

He set about making an imitation dinner…
Perseverant, dedicated to making this one tastier!
After a few meal failures lately, he’s getting jitterier…
Confidence gone, he tried, but this meal was crappier…
His language, as he turned into a self-hater…
He should have stuck with sausage and mashed potato!
Boy did he swear, spit, as his self-loathing went nuclear!
A good job that no one else was in the area!
Then pains from Duodenal Donald did appear…
The old codger is not having much luck, I fear!.

Depressed with himself now, he got his camera,
His mind wandered… thinking of his meal… beefburger?
“I fell asleep and missed the fireworks, silly bugger!”
As he saw the sky, he thought of being an astrologer,
Realising his eyesight, with so many a disorder…
Cataract Katey, Glaucoma Gloria, and Saccades Sandra,
He’ll see nowt, and the telescope he couldn’t manoeuvre…
His pre-2022 brain and thoughts were even unclearer…

Inchcock got into his overwhelmingly sickeningly…
Beige, second-hand, £300, c1968, uncomfortable, recliner,
Nodded off, woke up in the kitchen – how? Somnambulistically,
Dropped off again, woke at 00:10hrs, not very jocularly…
He’s missed photoing the fireworks – he blames his dementia!
But he still got his camera, and onto the balcony, he did venture…

2022 Had Arrived!

He whipped back the cover where he was reclined,
And mottled legs, and glowing ulcer he did find!
But, no time for medicating now; his leg he disentwined…
Got his fully charged camera, all realigned…
Took two photographs, not too badly defined!

Kettle on, and off he went to the Porcelain Throne,
After half an hour, I had to check on him (Alto-Ego) all alone…
I heard no screams, not even a moan!
I floated into the Porcelain Throne…
He sat there glum-faced, scratching his thigh bone…,

Into his crosswording… He said, “Nowts moved, Alto”,
“Rock solid, burrit won’t move, though!
“Have yer given the Diapharm capsules a go?”
“One yesterday, one today! No, it was two today!”
As I laughed and left, I thought I heard him pray!

Inchcock Leaves The Wet Room!

Forty minutes after going into the Porcelain Throne,
He came out wearily, in pain, and took a Ziprasidone,
He seemed fed-up, looking drawn and on his own…
His usual contentment seems to have been blown…
He started rubbing on his cheekbone…
Oh, dearie, he’s got toothache; but he doesn’t moan,
Just stands there, fascinated, looking out at a drone!

Health Checks Time

Well, the BP SYS is a little high,
As is the Pulse, he wonders why?

Temperature is at 34.2°centigrade, not too high,
He’s unconcerned, and I think I know why…
He’s been in the fridge, reading instructions on his beef pie!
Then checked the cooking times on his chips… Oh, my!
Then went on CorelDraw, to make a graph, that’s why!

I heard him talking from the other room; he was going at it,
He does a lot of chinwagging to himself…
But I’m not worried about his mental health a bit,
Although his finances are losing wealth…
He was happily talking to his pet, Rabbit Rupert…
All the others as well, he did look a little hurt…
When I called his brown bear, Burt…
He grabbed me by the shirt…
Even though he’s only a little squirt…
And I always thought he was an introvert?

I soon discovered why he was being so short with me,
His favourite nurse did not arrive…
I laughed; he threatened to kick me in the knee!
But Arthur Itis and Dizzy Dennis made him fall over, you see,
I’ve never seen him so active…
Till he tumbled over, now he’s definitely inactive…
But he did get back up; it took him a long time to rise…
I laughed at him again. He was very reactive…
To the point of being so argumentative…
I told him, I’m not real, you do realise?
That’s why kicking me was very unwise!.

Inchie sulked a while, took some more painkillers, and skulked off to prepare a meal. I’m worried about him…

Hehehe!

TTFNski, all!

♥ Have a betterer 2022 year! ♥

36 Graphics of this year – Wot Inchcock done for the TFZers

36 of this year’s Graphics – done for the TFZers

I’d like to start with one done earlier – for Sandie Lentz. It was Sandie that started the TFZ (Troll Free Zone). Initially, with only former members of Yahoo Questions Site, which was getting overly trolled.

We all loved and miss Sandie. Her other hobby and fascination was the American Civil War history. When I made this graphic a few years ago, she said she loved it, so it goes on first for the TFZ and our former First Lady. With Love.

♥ Sandie Lentz ♥

Here are a few from earlier this year. As they came from the file.

Pattie, Janet, Marie, Gladys Lona & Jillie. ♥

Pattie ♥ & Meritt

Jillie, in the sea! ♥.

Keith nibbling.

Nancy, gorrit organised! ♥

Janet & Me

Mary – Well done! ♥

Jillie & Mary ♥

Nancy, Marie, Pattie, Betty, Meritt, Wayne, Me

Keith. Hehehe!

Pattie & Serge (Hubby) ♥

Janet A, Heather, Keith & me ♥

Pattie – Cor! ♥

TFZers Tribute Trio Consisting of Julie, Lillie and Linda

Janet A, me, and Keith nosing at us. Hehe!.

Marie ♥ – Had enough of the entertainment?

Marie, Keith and me. (Bacon lovers)

Lona, Patricia, Julie, Nancy, Janet, Heather, Jillie, Meritt, Keith and the two Thomas’s.

Kitchen again – We like our food! Mary, Gladys, Jillie and Nancy

Janet cooking! Is that absinthe?

Meritt organising the TFZer transport.

Gladys (Many members favourite – mine too)

Julie doing what she does best! Haha!

Another Winner for Shirley! ♥

Mary dining! Free drink?

Part-Time Astronaut Julie!

Full-time Cook, Marie, Cook for me any day!

Actress Nancy – getting paid… for what? Haha!

Mary with Keith lurking?

Heather serves the ale – Thomas & Andy interested.

All the lads ogling Gladys! I don’t blame them!

Marie and Thomas S

Pattie, with guess who thumbed a lift?

Lona – Not to be messed, this gal!

Lillie, attracting the attention of the ship cleaner?

Hello, Lona’s back – on stage with Thomas G!

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