And, why is the Inchcock News Snippets reporter there?
Who is Billum? He is the once unspotted, then much-spotted, lesser-spotted, and now spot-free, Humira-taking, emeritus professor of algebraic, arithmetical, numerical, and statistics.
He, and his assistant, the lovely Petal Lisa, are referred to as HRH (Her Royal Highness) locally, around Crowell Manor, their home. She is always there, and always ready to support Billum, on his inventioning-habit. Billum is a clever lad. In fact, at the interviews I’ve had with him, I gleaned little – I was spending so much time on the Thesaurus and Dictionary.
After my last interview, I picked my way through the unwritten, intelligently and clandestinely formulated sagacious words in his replies. This is still a job in progress!
The Short Interview: Scientist, Lecturer, PhD, Astrophysics Master-Technician was working in his cellar basement laboratory, a sort of manufacturing complex, with a nuclear fall-out shelter, DVDs of the entire Grimm series, and enough supplies of cat food for 6-months was working on a new invention at the time.
I inquired what it was he was working on:
Billum: After explaining to me about his work, everything bar what it was he was inventing, said; That mutually inconsistent theory must not be ignored completely. Unless you want to… but if you do, you may miss a vital link that could prove that spaghettification is a natural phenomenon that we will meet. Thus, accepting that this is part of the process needed to be understood before the creation of any viable, workable model can be achieved, naturally…
Thankfully, Angel Lisa arrived as Billum got on with something in the other lab room (by gum, he must be working on two inventions simultaneously? Clever chap, you know!), and I was given a mug of Glengettie tea.
When he returned, I had a wee-wee, washed and returned. The interview resumed: I tried to think of a way, without sounding too stupid or upsetting Mr Billum, that he had not yet told me what the invention was yet… I mumbled and hesitated a bit; you would when talking to a genius!
Inchcock: Would you mind mentioning what your project is, Sir?
Billum: Not at all, transtemporal travel.
Billum: No need to be sorry, my lad… A way is bound to be discovered; I intend to be the man to do it… I’m close now; the lad Alan and HRH are getting excited at the prospect…
Inchcock: Erm, I’m not sorry you are doing it, Sir; I’m just sorry I didn’t understand what transtemporal travel means.
Billum: Well, what do you think it might be?
Inchcock: Er…, transport, maybe a cheaper way to power trains or aeroplanes? No, perhaps an unpunctureable air balloon… or…
Billum: No, no, no… Time-Travel! It’s taken me two weeks to get this far, but I’m sure I shall have it cracked by the end of today!
Inchcock: Er, So, you think it will work and be controllable, Billum?
Billum: Right now, at the particular place you are sitting, at the time when you are sitting there, one of two things is true: Either there is a closed timelike curve passing through that point in spacetime, or there is not. And that situation will never change — no matter what clever engineers may do in the future if they create closed timelike curves, they cannot pass through events in spacetime through which closed timelike curves did not pass. Simple!
Inchcock: Er… Is it?
Billum: Oh, aye! A time-travel paradox is a paradox, an apparent contradiction, or a logical contradiction associated with the idea of time and time travel. Time travel is one of the most popular and most exciting topics in science fiction. In psychology, mental time travel is the capacity to mentally reconstruct personal events from the past. We all do that. The motivation for a character to travel in time, provided that it is intentional, is either to rectify events in the past or to explore the past or future. However, there seems to be a danger of causing a paradox in the timeline, especially when going to the past. The best-known dilemma occurs if the time traveller goes back something like 70 years to the past and inadvertently kills his grandfather before grandpa has met grandma. He is extinguishing his own existence at the very exact moment. If he will never exist in the future, there is no one to go back to the past to cause the change in the timeline in the first place. As a result, the timeline is ambiguous since that time was in the past, and the person exists and does not exist at the same time from a logical viewpoint, at least in one possible interpretation.
Billum: Oh, yes, easy-peasy! Time travel via speed, or the reverse… This is the easiest and most practical way to time travel into the far future – go really fast. According to Einstein’s theory of special relativity, when you travel at speeds approaching the speed of light, time slows down for you relative to the outside world…
Inchcock: So you’ve made an actual time machine then, Billum?
Billum: Of sorts, yes. The stronger the gravity you feel, the slower time moves. So my time bubble is super magnetic and will move at the slowest pace ever, so time travelling backwards is so easy! Which us what we will be doing.
Inchcock: Is it? Err, We?
Billum: Yes! Of course, it has to be large enough to carry food, water etc., for a good few years. And I was looking for someone who is not entirely with it. Preferably bald, so he’ll have no haircutting to worry about, will be needed; to be my first man to time travel in my bubble-magnet… Have another mug of Glengettie, mate…
Lock the doors, Alan!
Ode To The Outcome…
I enjoyed the tutoring for my journey… By HRH, a joyous beauty, You’ll have to see and agree… But facts and numbers only confuse me… Still, we had a cuddle and mug of Glengettie!
Time to go, lacking fear, and HRH was kissed… I went slowly into the ether, the space mist… I wrote of the nothing I saw and all I missed… In time, I became a pretty fair anecdotalist, Throughout, I kept at a level of my cheerfullest…
At no time did I become worried or distressed… With Bill’s magnet-time-machine, I was impressed, It was cold, and I was glad I wore my woolly vest… Although, with my pencil breaking, I was stressed… I’d a spare pencil stuck with a plaster on my chest. Inchcock at his cunning best!
I saw Spike Mulligan, Aneurin Bevan, Yes, Siree! I looked around to see if I could see Suzie… Then I sensed starting, a Thought Storm, spree… And then it all became vividly clear to me…
Huh, it was all a dream, Alto Ego laughed heartily… At his mocking, I did disagree, We had a verbal argy-bargy… I started the battle off with “Pardon me?”, We ended up drinking mugs of Glengettie tea…
I dragged my not-slept-much body from the clutches of the second-hand, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, £300, c1968, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner. Then went to make a brew of J Sainsbury Extra Strong tea and drank it pretty quickly cause the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived.
So, off to the wet room come WC I went. And the evacuation operation was positively under the influence of Constipation Conrad!
So, out came the crossword book. As I awaited some movement from the rear end, I studied the clues, determined to do better than yesterday’s solution-finding of only two! There was no rush, so I looked at the options for a good ten minutes. Then the activity started… and stopped a minute later – solidly refusing to recommence again! Which gave me another ten minutes or so of puzzle-solving. Well, that’s not strictly true… I didn’t get one answer! But I persevered, with an unnatural desire to succeed.
As you can see in the second photo, I made no, zilch progress. Which was annoying. Haha!
I went back to the kitchen and sorted out the spring water bottles. Opened the fridge door to find that I’d already done them last night. Dementia Doreen again!
The wee-weeing started and was pretty persistent again throughout the day. I made a brew and got the computer to update Monday’s blog.
Carer Richard arrived. He was looking a little better than yesterday; bless him. We had a good nattering session; things of old we had in common were the theme. I could see he was ready for his bed and appreciated the chinwag but cut it short to let him get home to his medicines and, above all, bed. Bade him farewell, and he took the waste bags to the chute for me. Hope he’s not coming down with anything. He’s got enough already.
By the time I got around to doing this post, I could see clearly the writing on the reminder pad – Consip victory! I’ve not got the foggiest of what it meant! Sad, innit? Hahaha!
I got on the computer again, finished updating, and sent the blog to WordPress.
This morning, jolly good figures from the sphygmomanometer, even though it was nearly midday by now. Gosh, the day is flashing by! Even the body temperature had risen again… bot by a lot, but that’s two days on the up. Things might be getting better? No, I am a fool!
I spent the next four hours on the computer, making mayhaps my biggest cock-up of the year!
I’d started doing a Local News Snippets one for tomorrow! Pillock! And had not finished and posted the Monday one yet!
Then, after updating and sending off the Monday post to WordPress…
Instead of starting this blog, I began doing an Ode blog!!!Gawd or Mighty, I’m Going Potty!
The mind was so puddled. I stopped and went to make a brew of Glengettie tea.
Filled the kettle but did not turn on the heat!!!Argh!
I took these two photographs of the evening sky. There is no sunsetting to speak of, but I still found them beautiful, Mother Nature at her finest. I appreciate There’s something special about the skies, not as much as a good natter. Hehe!
I’d made a start on two blogs now! Neither one finished. And had to get this one started then!Dumbo!
I had a call from Meridian saying the evening carer would be late. They already were. I told them no bother, not to worry. Which was true!
I put some potatoes in the oven and added a pastie later, peas in the pan.
I got on with starting this blog. The evening carer arrived later, apologising. But there was no need; I appreciated that she was in a rush but still found time for a bit of chinwag. 💙
I made some progress with this blog, but it was so late, and tiredness overcame me and my hunger.
I’ll have to finish this in the morning. I’ll get the jammies on and nosh served up now. TTFN.
Wednesday morning update:
I was up until gone midnight again.
Made a well-overcooked meal. But it went down nicely, all the same, despite fighting to keep awake while eating it. Tsk!
The darned Thought-Storms raged again when I washed the pots and got into the c1968 second-hand, E-plan recliner.
After trying out ballroom dancing at the Youth Social Centre and being told by one well built, highly desirable busty young lady: “Your dancing reminded me of a pregnant rhinoceros that, with three legs, suffered from an overindulgence of alcohol!” I stopped.
Then, off to the Youth Club, and tried my hand at Jiving. When! More my style, although I was a total failure and spent far too much time picking myself up from the floor and getting an elbow or fist in the face, I also had to give that up. After I was banned from the Youth Club for accidentally putting Sandra’s shoulder out.
Then, it arrived – The Twist!
The current girlfriend was not a fan of the twist at all. And became an un-girlfriend. Sob! But being a romantic, look-at-me-go type of young lad, I’d already had my eye on Margaret, a locally-bred gal, and love of the twist brought us together. She was a couple of years older than I, and the Locarno Dance Hall was the first to be holding a dedicated Twist only night. So we arranged to visit.
Expensive mind you; 2/6d (12½d) to get in. But, I was determined to show off my ‘Twisting skills’, So enthusiastically practised and honed, to what I thought was perfection, in my bedroom for many an hour into the night. This was my chance to impress!
Queuing Up To Get In
We whippersnappers queued early on in the night,
The mood was good; nobody wanted to fight,
No talking back then, of gigabyte, megabyte, or terabyte,
No mobile phones or headphones were in sight…
Time for the doors to be opened, I was uptight;
Margaret hadn’t turned up… still, my chance for the limelight?
Searching Out A Partner!
I got in, and was cool, as they played ‘Twist and Shout’,
Time to have a decker around and pick a girl out…
I found one; she was over six feet and rather stout…
But I went over to try my best lines out…
Her breath smelt of Vodka and brussels sprout,
But her bosom swelled as I got my wallet out…
We were soon on the dancefloor for a workout!
I was enjoying that…
The gal and I did jive, had a jolly good shakeout,
The bouncer came over, and said ‘It’s Twist night!’
I said, well, it doesn’t matter nowt!
He hit me and threw me out!
I was a bit disappointed…
I felt a proper fool; the gal stayed behind, sacre bleu!
I legged it home miserable and made a brew…
Had some leftover rabbit stew…
Two bottles of Guinness too…
Then I had to spew…
That was the end of Twisting debut…
Sometimes, one would like apanthropinisation,
The world is going crazy, every single nation!
I no longer have any paid occupation…
Of course, this does mean less oppression,
I’m coping with the still rampant tellurians aggression,
Muslim, Christians, Catholics, Jews and Caucasians!
Black Death, now the fearful Coronavirus infection…
My neighbours tell me it was sent by the Martians?
NASA say on Mars, there is not even any vegetation,
Can we please have some verification?
Why do not Scooters & Cyclists show no care or empathy?
With pedestrians who are disabled, wobbly and elderly?
I’ve had three of them, two scooters and a cyclist, run into me!
Leaving me shaken up. Once with bleeding arthritic knee!
All just carried on, after looking at me all bolshie!
Now, when I can get out, I’m worried and do it nervously!
Cars parked on pavements, I have to hobble into the road, you see…
Passing drivers shake their first, and get all honky!
The language they use is curse worded defamatorily!
Doctors to visit, booster too, I hope it’s not snowy and windy!
The state I get into, just taking a wee, bladder in contortion!
It either slowly builds up pressure, as if it wants an ovation?
Giving out pain is the bladders main occupation,
A trickle, sharp stabbing, then give Little Inchie some vilification,
Other times, things burst out, all at the bladders own volition!
Then, maybe it’ll start and die off, come again, utter vacillation,
The only thing guaranteed, is that I pee with great trepidation!
Ode Verse 4 – Hoping Sanity Returns
I make excuses for feeling depressed, like, I’m poorly & sick,
Too many ailments to cope with, that characteristic,
I may have a toothache, or feel a smidge asthmatic?
Always present, are the ailments that are arthritic,
And when Peripheral Neuropathy Pete goes ballistic,
Always a danger of a tumble, of them my fear is authentic,
When the memory goes, or things diabetic…
They are accepted easier, somehow not so dramatic?
Duodenal Donald, they tell me can be fatalistic,
What can’t? I’m going to stop being so idiotic…
Acting like a deranged lunatic… well I am, also nihilistic!
I’m not over-energetic, overenthusiastic, or over-optimistic,
Perhaps, I’m psychokinetic, psychoneurotic, even phlegmatic?
But I don’t know what they mean, me being simplistic…
Although the moments of semi-contentment are spasmodic,
So, being a foodaholic, into the fridge I’ll have a frolic!
I’d hoped that today would be something of a breakthrough… The end of two days of Accifauxpas & Whoopsidangeplops, too! Although the cock-ups today have been less, by a few, And my panics, worries, I have managed to subdue, The expectancy of more bother dwells in every sinew! And the Thought Storms still rage; it’s a mental stew!
The postman called, told me that £10.50 postage was due, A parcel from Amazon, underpaid, so it must be by you! Well, that’ll leave me with little monetary residue… It was only a jug of sauce too – Hickory smoked barbecue, It cost about a tenner, for Amazon’s revenue!… Now I’ve paid £20 quid plus for it, should I sue? I’ll get it wrong, whatever I try to do… Amazon, double the cost, so much for their value!
I sometimes wish that I was in Timbuktu, I wish I still had my beloved Justy, a Suburu, I wished I’d learnt how to play the didgeridoo, I’m glad I bought diabetic socks, made of bamboo,
I wish I had less bother when taking a poo-poo! I wish it wasn’t so painful when using the loo, Taking a leak so often is another issue… Haemorrhoids are bleeding, well, that’s what they do, Always with a mess to clean from the residue,
Still, I’ve got over my last tumble well, Phew! I like to think I’m a man of virtue, I should look up what it means, I ought to, Peripheral Neuropathy problems continue, As the Doctor said, ‘There’s nothing we can do!’
Enough of this self-pity and feeling blue! Time to cheer up… I know, I’ll put on my pink tutu? Make a mug of Glengettie, it’s made my Typhoo, No time left to be depressed at this venue… Contentment, hopes, laughter, I shall imbue, Next week, flue jab, dentist and Audio clinic too! I hope I get to them on time, when due… Note to self: depression you must discontinue!
How, you ask? Well, let’s have a review… Imagine you’re out in the sunshine at the bayou, If you were there, what’d you like to do? I told myself, have a bowl of jelly or Irish stew… Then have a pipe of Erinmore mixture, honeydew, I answered myself, that’s daft, baccy’s been barred for you! Jelly’s too sweet, and Irish stew is fattening for too!
I was getting fed up with myself; an argument was due… So, can I eat yoghourt or tofu, But I ignored myself and withdrew… Went off to the Porcelain Throne set-to… Now, if the end to this ode confuses you, It does me, too… am I missing a screw? Thank You!
Part Of The Inchcock Today Make-Em-Laugh Ode Series
01:20hrs: Blimus! I stirred back into imitation misery and life, and I realised I’d just had over five-hours in the nurturing arms of Sweet Morpheus! Gadzooks! Plus, I had a short nodding-off yesterday afternoon. Involuntarily, though! The need for a wee-wee developed, so I was out of the recliner and standing with my balance caught in no time?
I wandered over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). And worra shock, it was a wee-wee of the LPP (Long-Powerful-Persistent) type, and with no PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling.
Things seem to have altered in the wee-wee stakes suddenly? The NHS colour chart was consulted, and I was dehydrated again, but down to level four! Yippy! But the wee-weeing carried on all morning, repeatedly, and in the same mode. I got a little irritated at times with demanding needs, but the urge for a wee-wee cometh so often, and I have to goeth! Haha!
Then I got the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrive, so off I limped to the wet room. A pungent, Trotsky Terence dominated evacuation that needed a lot of cleaning up afterwards again. Of me and the Porcelain!
As you can see by the time on the travel clock om the cistern top, I’d only been up for about ten minutes, three wee-wees already.
Then, as I was asking, I needed yet another leak! Gotten Himmel!
To the front room, and I got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing, with the Boot’s BP machine. SYS 148. DIA 81 and PULSE showing as 83bpm. Which is better than many days have been the March up to now. Not too bad at all!
The dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer preferred a reading of 36.9°c – 96.9°f. Perhaps a smidge high, but maybe not. I asked Mr Google and got this answer: 97°F (36.1°C) to 99°F (37.2°C).
I updated the Excel NHS record log with the details. Looking much improved on a week ago. This is the third day that I’ve got access to Excel, and there was no Updating unavailable message coming on the screen.
I wonder if Microsoft’s owner is related to Mike Fries, the man who bought Virgin Media and renamed it as Liberty-Global Virgin Media, and then proceeded to dismantle any semblance of trust, ability or compassion that was left in the business?
You certainly have to admire his skill in running the crap internet service and spending a fortune on advertising lies about it being reliable, don’t you? Fair enough, he perhaps has no idea what he’s doing. But being educated in a Wesleyan Business School and now paid a $19m salary, plus expenses and compensation totalling: Fries’ cash compensation of $8.5 million, was not the highest on the list. Fries’ stocks and options awards — valued at $79.2 million in stock and $24.2 million in options — helped lift Fries to the top salary-wise. Fries also received a $5 million sign-on bonus…
So, it’s no surprise that with the crappiest service and a cunning system installed that blocks anyone from leaving their contract – have you ever heard of anyone who left them? It’s no wonder the overpaid, under-capable git who only makes any profit for Liberty-Gold on paper! And installs hatred in his customers for the intermittent failure of connection of the internet and his contempt shown for them. However, fair does; all the other suppliers are bad as well. I did manage to leave BT when I moved into the flats here, to Virgin, who were then bought out by Liberty-Global – My bad luck! I waffled a bit there, sorry!
I got the Tuesday blog updated, between wee-wees (they were getting longer and more fierce now!) And within four hours I’d got it finished. Flibbledonkackles! Pinterested some snaps, went on the WordPress Reader, not much on again today, but what was sent, was top quality. I read and replied to some comments, then did a couple of graphics on CorelDraw. Made a brew, had a wee-wee and was just about to start on this Diary, and I realised I had not done the ablutions yet.
Gulped down the tea, and off to the wet room. A decent session to start with, the usual dropsies, of course. Only two nicks. tiny ones, shaving, and the ankle and feet were looking fine as I got ready to go in the shower. The long toenails were a bit bothersome.
I really enjoyed the showering today and spent ages in there with the cloth and loofah. I used the mint & cucumber shower gel but was not too keen on the scent. Just as well that I dropped the bottle in lost it all down the drain when it shattered! Hehe!
Dried off, and did the medicationing without any hassle. No socks put on, I’m sure I heard a groan from Sock-Glide-Glenda (Hahaha!)
Got the kettle on, and back to the computer and rebooted it.
The landline rang. It was Sister Jane, telling me she hadn’t received the Inchcock Today diary link? I was sure I’d sent it – I mean; as if a man of my calibre and dedication would forget to! Huh! Ahem! I thanked her for worrying and I checked the Emails…
What a nitwit, dumbhead, pillock, schmuck, numskull, cretin, schlemiel, flibbertigibbet, dope and senile twit, I am! I rang Jane back to tell her I’d now sent it… I believe my red-face may have somehow seeped through the telephone cable. She was very very calm with me. Hahaha! Lovely of her to check on me though wasn’t it. ♥
Thought! I was born years too early yer know. If mankind survives a few more years, I can see people, not the commoners, mind, getting a memory transplant on the NHS… not that’s doomed innit? You’ll probably be able to get a decent second-hand one. Possibly, around the year 2065, you can get a taxi-drivers memory box, who died of Covid-1219, reconditioned and fitted for about £2.500m in a few years of paying back for Brexit? Hehe!
My mind wandered on to my epicurean-gastronomical fancies. (Food!) So much fodder to feed on at the moment. I dithered, dillied and dallied, changed my mind a good few times… Went for a wee-wee, washed and returned, and started musing over the available foods in the fridge, and there were many to pick from, all I had to do, was decide which one to have… Mmm!
Decisiveness, emphaticalness and obdurateness used to be my strong points in the old days when I was alive, you know. Not now, though! So many different permutations of the meal to make, came to mind; then left it, pretty blank as well! Humph!
Ah. I’ve just remembered, the writing pads should be arriving today, from Amazon. Of course, I only said that for effect, as if I would forget anything, Hahahahaha! Ahem! I reckon my guess is going to be a long way off! I’ll no made anything to eat until delivery has arrived, whenever that is. I tried to ignore the hunger. Oh, I am good… what for, is another question!
I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana and took the evening medications.
The landline rang out, it was a recorded message, obviously a con-job, telling me that Amazon Prime will be taking £79 from my account, and if I wanted to cancel, I had to ring this number… I rang off. Maybe another Nigerian scam? I opened the YourArea Emagazine for Sherwood, I must do something to avoid falling asleep and miss the Amazon package.
A bit of good news on the Covid-19 front! The figures for new cases in Nottingham are down by 22.5% on the previous seven day period!
Blow me, the next article telling of a school in the Sherwood area, where six children and thee members of staff have tested positive!.
Good heavens, what next will I come across?
Now new variants of Covid from the Pillillines have been found in Nottingham!
I made a brew of Glengettie, then I took the afternoon medications.
Checked the Amazon tracker, it was in the same place on the graph. Oh dearie me! But never mind, eh?
So tired now, done in mentally not physically… yet. Hehehe!
My ETA guesses at the arrival for the notepad order from Amazon, (16:00hrs) is fast approaching.
I got some mini-Dagwood sarnies made up, in the bowl covered it with foil, but there was no room for it to go in the fridge until the parcel arrives. I didn’t work or think that out, did I? Had a look at the tracker on Amazon. New ETA on it now.
I’m so tired and so hungry. Must stay awake! Aha, the delivery arrived at 17:50hrs.
Got the nosh sorted.
No idea what I’m doing now (Thurday morning) WorPredd have changed things around, and I’m f’ing lost! Sod this!
Can’t edit photos as before, edit and view modes different – Blocks appearing
Ho do I add… never mind, this is my last diary – Thank You WordPress! I’ll try once again, but I’m terribly confused Too much to take in, so I leaving.
023:30hrs: I woke with a dang urgent need of a wee-wee! Argh! Panic ensued as I forced my grossly overweight bellied-body from the recliner, with visions and a sensation of the surging PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling), building-up, getting stronger. Caught my balance and hobbled swiftly over to unused overnight NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket).
I had to give this liquid evacuation a new name. I gave it, SWROP (Slow-Weak-Resistant-Oversprinkly-Painful) title. Uncomfortable perhaps rather than painful, though. Many of these followed during the day. I’ll try not to mention them too often.
I took the medications for the evening that I’d missed taken. Humph! Then I got the Health Checks done.
The BP readings from the Sphygmomanometer showed much better results today.
Used the easy-to-use Chinese, made in Hong Kong, contactless thermometer, this result was pleasing too, at 37.2°c – 98.9°f. Not bad at all, methinks.
Microsoft Office allowed me access to Excel (that’s three days now that it’s worked, they are getting better – or are they planning for a more extensive freeze or calamity later?), and updated the log for the Cardiac Unit and DVT Warfarin Clinic. I’ve not been there for two years now, but they did say they will reschedule the cancelled appointment sometime in the future.
I inputted the figures for the blood-pressure onto the NHS site and got this graph up on the right. Which works out a bit better than yesterdays’ did. But still in the High Blood Pressure status, but I’ve been on that for months now. I’ve reported it to the nurse, who tells me that she doesn’t trust my BP machine. I mentioned the failure to get through to register my after-effects of the Covid-19 vaccination and can’t get through to the Doctors surgery. “Yes, they are swamped”, was the answer.
It’s a great feeling that gives one a warm glow in the heart when you are so well cared for: Well, so others tell me!
I poddled onto the balcony with the Kodak camera and put the Canon on a charge.
Maybe today I can learn enough to use this Kodak camera properly? Or not!
The first one, an accidental one as I struggled to open the window, would have been great if it was intended!
The two of the outside were possibly a couple of my worst ever efforts.
I tried to take a photo of the car park on Chesnut Walk, through the window. As you can, it was another disaster! And here I am now, having to use the Kodak for a few hours until the Canon charges-up. I don’t suppose it will worry David Bailey? Hahaha!
I got the updating of the Monday post finished. It cost me a few hours and several, well, many, wee-wees. Pinterested, a few snaps from it, then Emailed the links off.
Between SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters going down, I suffered an inordinately long time getting rattled and making so many errors!
Made a brew, had a wee-wee, passed wind, sneezed and then returned to the computer, with SSS having calmed down a lot now. So recommenced on the computing.
I stopped, having remembered (Having remembered? – I don’t say that very often! Haha!), to take the morning medications.
I went on Facebooking. Then onto the WP comments responding, and visited the WordPress Reader section. Not much seems to be coming through today? Then…
Had a wee-wee (Hardly worth the bother, a dribble!) and made a mug of tea. Then started this Diary off. The attentions of Nicodemus’s Neurotramsmitter’s failing continued to irk me a little, but I just have to get uses to it; nothing can mend nerve-ends dying. It’s not going to get any better, so I made the best of it and calmed down.
The thoughts of the two food deliveries coming together made me wonder why I’d arranged for that – Pillock! I’d better get the ablutions done, then.
No showering, of course, far too early for that and the risk of disturbing my neighbours. The session was a mixed bag of ailments, Accifauxas and goof fortune!
As I got into the wet room, Porcelain Throne’s need arrived – and what a messy affair that was! Semi-soft, messy, stinking, sticky, brown and red gunk! Yet is went away in two flushes but left a lot of mess that needed cleaning up. The TP was not up to the job alone. Dettol and hot water and a thick, strong cloth were utilised, and this took me ages! The bowl was then cleaned and sanitised, and I start to get the nasal clearing done. Put the ear drops in. Then started cleaning the teeth…
So many dropsies, I made my fingers sore with using the picker-upper so often! Haha! The shaving was problematical due to the drain not clearing the water away. I used the last of the f=drain-clearer and a lot of bleach, but it was not very successful! Glibblebonks! But still, only two tiny nicks in shaving, but one of the many dropped razors broke, and the foam spray can no longer work after the drop on the floor via the sink and my left knee! It broke after that was dropsied!
No other problems, as I didn’t put any socks on. Thus cunningly avoiding a battle with SSG Sock-Glide-Glenda.
I’m going to do any handwashing today, but I did move the thick quilted coat from above the sink to above the wall heater, as it had already-morphed into a damp-only mode.
I had a wee-wee, for what it was worth, and made a brew of Glengettie Gold. A text message came in from Iceland… wait for it… It said at the end of the wording, ‘You have no missing items! Well, that’s another first! Of course, being an experienced Iceland shopper, I knew they would have none of the split brown rolls in stock, so I ordered some bread thins and got them both! And little room in the freezer to use! Serves me, right!
I checked on Gmail to see what subs or not available were coming today on the Sainsbury order. Well, that is fortunate, no sourdough bread, but they had none last week either. And, no french cream horns, well, that’s assuaged my guilt at ordering them in the first place. Thank Lord Sainsbury!
Most, fortunately, I went to find the facemask for when the Iceland lad arrives, and the intercom flashed as I passed by it. Otherwise, I would not have known about it; either the sound from the box too low, or my ears were playing up; genuine good fortune that was!
I admitted him and was soon up at the door handing me the bags, which I put in the hallway.
The man was sociable with it. I handed the lad a choice of plonk, and off he shot, wishing me well!
I took the bags through to the kitchenette. I knew that I hadn’t ordered any kitchen towels, bleach etc., but there seemed many bags there?
All became apparent when emptied and sorted the contents of the carriers.
How, or why had I ordered two packs of the misshaped cooked ham? How or why had I got a dirty-great container of orange juice?
Why I ordered all the packets of chill chicken in different sizes?
The lean diced beef I knew was for making the chilli later on. The cucumber for making pickled cucumber arrived. I put the overordering down to Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters letting down so often.
When the Sainsbury order arrives, I really hope I’ve not done it on their order as well; I’ll not have from in the fridge or freezer! Tsk!
I updated this post up to here and prayed I could hear the intercom when Mr Sainsbury arrives; hello, he’s here, and I did hear the intercom, just! The chap put the loose delivered goods in the box and carrier for me at the door, accepted a can of Vodka & lime mix, in thanks, and departed.
As I was putting the things into the kitchen to sort them out. Struggling to find room moire than ever in the fridge and freezer, the intercom rang out.
The chap returned cause he’s found a box of Cornettos he’s missed in his van for me. That was nice of him!
I’d bought a lot of fresh foods. Tomatoes x2, leeks, Limoncello (for Josie), lemon desserts, Coz’s apples (they were dry, bruised and not very good tasting). Bread thins, garden peas shelled, beef chunks, crispy smoked bacon, more cooked meats (Tsk!), milk roll loaf etc.
Somehow or other, I got the stuff put away, and then thoughts of food, eating, my leaning towards eating, nouvelle cuisine, and epicureanism abounded in my mind… What to have for my nosh! I was certainly spoilt for choice! After only a few seconds (fast for me!), I’d opted to get the beef chunks in the crockpot, add oodles of chopped leeks, and the garden peas to be added later.
I got the beef and leeks in and added some seasonings: Sea salt, black pepper, Oxo and Best Bisto gravy granules, burnt chilli powder, basil, and a drop of balsamic vinegar that had been delivered. I forgot all about the tomato passata, though, Humph!
Cleaned up and kept stirring the mixtures as I did the cleaning and sorting the bag of treats for the lovely folk on floor nine. After the water in the pot was bubbling, I turned it down and added the shelled garden peas, stirring regularly but quickly so as not to let the contents cool down. I had a taste, and in response, I added a splash of the Squid vinegar to it.
I spent a good while making up some waste bags and sorting them into the box on the walker-trolley in the hall.
While doing this task, the weariness dawned on me, and I realised that either a blank-period or mind-fatigued withdrawal from awareness was on the way. I just knew. Unfortunately!
So, I decided to get the bags to the chute and nip down with Doris, Jenny, and Frank’s bag. The hobble to the chute-room and depositing of the bags went without any hassle… well, there was a block outside the hallway door to the lobby, who doing some electrical work, and was not too pleased to have to get down from his step ladder to let me out. Hehehe!
I went down to the ninth in the elevator, dropped the carrier at Jen’s flat door, and back up to the 12th-floor. If I recall correctly, I had a marathon wait as the cages kept passing by, going up and down and not showing much interest in stopping for me? Come think of it, it may well have been muggings here, or to be precise, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, that did not sense my pressing the button, or failed to pass on the message to the brain, or Memory Mike, who had no idea what was going on at all? Hahaha! Yes, the weariness was coming… Boulderclumps!
I got back to my floor, and the poor electrician was upon his ladder again working next to the lobby door I needed. I waited patiently until he’s finished what he was doing. The lips visibly moved under his facemask. Not sure what it was he was saying, but the eyes looked rather keenly at me. Hehehe!
As I titivated the crockpot contents and had a little nibble to test things, the landline burst forth. It was Jenny, updating me on the situation with the lack of ILC’s. Holiday (vacationing) time. Well, they deserve them, having to put up with us old antediluvian fogies! Hahaha! Jenny and I had a little natter, which is always welcome. ♥
I got the nosh done, not that it needed much doing now. An expensive meal this one was. But worth it! Flavour Rating 9/10! I got the gravy mix and chilli-level right for once. And the lemon dessert went down well, too! This was one of my better efforts. Although the bank manager may disagree!
Weary-William had joined me, and the only thing I could do was to give in to him. I did manage to wash the pots before collapsing in the c1968 recliner. I seem to recall watching a ‘Parking Wars’ episode on the goggle-box; well, I started to anyway. Drifted off in minutes, but only for an hour or so, I sprang awake with Thought-Stormsrattling away in my head, so persistently.
Got up, and I took the belated evening medications. I got a drink of orange juice from the fridge and took a photo of the evening view. I looked much more vivid than it appears in this sad picture on the right here.
Back to the recliner and climbed into it. The Thought-Storms had gone, and Sweet Morpheus soon took over… Fantabulous!
23:05hrs: I woke-up, requiring a wee-wee. Thus, I fought my sadly overly-stomached, jelly-like bellied body out of the recliner, wobbled onto my painful feet (*with the painful over-long, toe-nails), and caught my balance and grabbed Metal Mickey.
I limped to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), expected a liquid surge to blast out, but only got a WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) outpouring.
Went to empty and sanitise the bucket and needed another wee-wee while washing my hands from the first one! A WDFL mode (Weak-Sprinkling-Fountain-Like) evacuation! Rewashed the hands, and changed PP’s, then off to the kitchen to get the kettle on. I took this picture of the cloudy night sky from the window.
I noticed how I had still got the watch on and also how red the skin was looking?
Made the brew, had another wee-wee (Tsk!) and got the Health Checks sorted out. Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd), had the SYS 148, DIA 77, and the Pulse a little higher at 93bpm.
The reliable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer gave a 37.2°c – 98.96°f, which was not too bad at all!
I went on the NHS site and but the program’s BP results and got this resulting graphic. Which I copied and pasted. The BP was rated as a little better than yesterdays.
But not to get too excited, it’s still in the High Blood Pressure level. Tsk!
Microsoft Excel allowed me access, and I updated the Health log. The pulse showed up as in the amber, but that’s better than the red ones earlier in the week.
I had to have yet another wee-wee! But this time, I checked the colour against the NHS Healthy Wee card.
I’d come right down from Level Six yesterday, Very Dehydrated; To level four – just dehydrated! So that was hopeful!
I made another brew of Glengettie tea, and I took yet another weak wee-wee, then got the photographs uploaded and tweaked for yesterdays and this diary.
I concentrated on updating the Sunday post. It took me a few hours, but I got it finished and posted it off to WordPress. Emailed the link and Pinterested some snaps.
I went on Facebook catching up (three wee-wees!) A big job this morning; I’d missed some things off yesterday, Humph! Then the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, off to the wet room, I limped, with the toes really playing up and stinging now?
The Throne session was not a good one at all!
Luckily, I didn’t delay getting to the Throne, and as I sat myself down, the flow began!
Then it stopped sharply. I got the pen and crossword book.
A minute later, it started again.
I could tell by the feel of things that it was a Trotsky Terence dominated affair!
I rose to look at the damage and was shocked by the amount of almost liquid evacuated red and black coloured stuff in the bowl!
This, of course, did not clear on the first flush. Not even the second and third either.’
Many manual tank refills by jug from the sink were needed, at least four, I reckon! I’m getting fed-up with having to do this!
As I was putting the lid back on and replacing the removed items, a sudden pain underfoot arrived?
I’d trodden on the pen! Smashed it, naturally!
Hurt the foot, goes without saying really, sorry.
I replaced the none-working radio and clock, toilet rolls, and kitchen towels. I’m getting fed-up with having to do this hemerine every morning! Still, I mustn’t complain, things could be worse, and they have been regularly! Humph!
Had a final wash, checked the taps (faucets) were not running, and back to the computer.
I went to take the morning medications, swallowing a Numark Anti-Diahorrea tablet with the others, and pressed-on with perusing and commenting on the new posts folks had posted. Next, I read and replied to some WP comments that had come in.
Then I needed another wee-wee! I mean, why? I’m only passing dribbles, but very often. With bother of intermittent PMDing (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling)! Oh, my, the whipper-snappers don’t know what’s coming to them in later life, poor things! Well, poor me, too! Hahaha!
After a few more spelling and grammar errors, it was time for the ablutions to be tackled. As seems usual lately, I got side-tracked and wandered of to wash the thick quilted jacket. I left it soaking in fabric softener and got to the wet-room for a jolly good. Much needed, cleaning up session.
Which went amazingly well! It was as if SSS and Nicodemus had turned themselves off, out of pity, to dissimulate their real intentions or to have me over on the floor later, I’m not sure, yet. Hahaha!
Sure, there were a good few dropsies, but nothing harmful, dangerous, overly painful, or even irking! It was as if an angel had got my back! It went so smoothly, I started to feel worried at the sheer unnaturalness of it. The drying-off was easy-peasy, no falls, no bangs! Even the medicationalisation was done without hassle or Accifauxpas! But, I chickened-out at putting any socks on, no point in pushing my luck too far; I felt sure I could hear a disappointed sigh from Sock-Glide-Glenda?.
I poked the new mark on the right foot, no pain at all, no itching either. I put some cream on it, but it turned a mustard colour, and it was a clear gel? But again, painless! Things can’t go on like this!
I got the handwashing rinsed and fabric-softened, wrung, hung and all done, hung them on coat hangers above the sink. The thick quilt shirt come jacket is going to take some drying. It should be ready to wear by the end of November, I think. Hehe!
My next task was getting the waste bags sorted out and made-up, and getting them in the box on the walker-guide trolley. Not an easy task! Bt the time I’d sorting myself out, there were two more bags to be added!
Trying to escape with the walker from the flat, I had a bit of bother. The box fell off, but I was in good spirits, if nervous, with the good luck… well, absence of bad-luck I’d had this morning. I soon got them back in the box and on the trolley walker.
I poddled along the length of the lift lobby and got into the room with, again, relative ease. Got all the bags down the chute, without any trapped fingers, dizzy’s, falls, trips, bangs, or knocks either!
Then, I bravely went down in the lift, on my way to visit the ICL, wardens interrogation room to advise them of the arrival of the Easter Eggs coming tomorrow. Well, that’s if Iceland and Sainsbury’s don’t substitute anything like pickled walnuts or toothpaste for them! Hahaha! But my main aim was to get some photographs of the Winwood Heights complex and get a natter in with somebody.
Which, after getting no answer to my phone call and no one in the office, I did on my walk back to the block of flats. The glass must be busy.
The top photo I took as I hobbled to the office, the regular bus out trippers were there on there way to the bus stop. Christine and Roy, and Angela were there, but I got no response to my greetings. Chance are they didn’t hear me, and I didn’t them. Hehehe! Old age, eh?
On the way back to Woodthorpe, I took a Winchester Court shot on the other side of the Walk, then Winwood Court, then my beloved Woodthorpe Court from the car park area. I’ll try ringing Deana, or whoever is in, later; I need to find out when the subsequent prescriptions are due and if I have an appointment for when the foot lady starts working again, tomorrow or not. The toenails are getting a bit painful now.
I got in the flat, having actually talked with no one, failed again!), and made an Iceland order up.
I found an easy method on the web of making pickled vinegar. Then, I added some bits to Sainsbury’s order. I put on some distilled pickling, wine and balsamic vinegar. I hope I can use dried dill in it, but I’ll give it a go. I’ve never had pickled vinegar and look forward to trying to make some. I’ll have all needed, I think, to give it a go. The vinegar, salt, sugar, black pepper, and a screw lid jar, but no fresh dill, just dried. Slicing the cucumber might be a bit risky, cut-finger-wise, though. Haha! I’ll ask the ailments to be incredibly kind to me when I make it.
Then I pondered over what I was going to have for today’s meal. After a bit of oohing and aahing, I decided to use up the last of the garden peas in a Chilli con carnie, and add passata with basil, to it. I took a packet of whole bread thins from the freezer to defrost on the window’s shelve.
Went on Gmail to see if owt had come in, and Jenny had sent one. Bless her, I replied, thanking her. Then I had a look for any WordPress comments, and I responded to it. Much time was spent trying to master the Kodak camera, far too long, without any progress being made. But, in the morning, I plan to use Kodak again – I’m determined to mast it! But don’t really expect to!
Then I went into mind-changing, Dithering mode again! I redecided over the meal. The peas, tomatoes and cooked meat, potato salad, roast onions, Marmite cheese, caramelised red onion chutney, wholemeal bread thins, chestnuts, and a custard & jelly dessert instead.
And by golly, it went down well! It took me some getting through, but I gave it a deserved flavour rating of 7/10. Ate it all bar the last slice of wholemeal bread thins!
Miraculously, the wee-wee I had after washing the pots was the last one of the day!
I reckon I settled down and had an uninterrupted straight five hours of heavenly bliss with Sweet Morpheus. Waking up, desperate for a wee-wee…