Inchcockski – Sunday 13th September 2020: Long, long day! But this phagomaniac made a decent meal for once!

TFZer Gal – Bootiful!

Sunday 13th September 2020

Spanish: Domingo 13 de Septiembre de 2020

13th September 1959: The first man-made Object (Luna 2) reaches the Moon!

About an hour after getting down to sleep, I woke to see the colourfulness and the brightness of the night coming through the thin, tatty, old, raggedy, multi-holed curtains. I could not resist fighting my way out of the recliner to take a photo of it. Lovely!

Around 00:50hrs, I woke again, in need of a wee-wee, and struggled to the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket), and struggled to pass what was maybe 2 or 3 fluid-ounces, over the next five minutes or so! Yes, another RSHH (Reluctant, Sprinkling-Half-Hearted) wee-wee! Hobbled to wash my hands, and then I got back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, non-operational, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery and unbalanced, positively-dangerous to use, rickety recliner, I soon nodded off again, which was pleasant and a change.

02:10hrs: I stirred into mock-life again, wanting another wee-wee. This time, catching my balance as I grabbed the stick, was a little more difficult, I’ve no idea why, but I got the bucket in time. It was an RSHH mode again, but with far less pain. The  Post-Micturition After Dribble lasted much longer than the main event did. Drip-drip, dribble, wait, sprinkle, drip… Tsk!

I could sense that things in the wee-weeing department were going to continue in the little-and-often style, so I emptied and sanitised the OGPEB, disinfected it and returned it to the computer room for later use. (And believe me, it saw plenty of action!). I’ll try to resist mentioning too many of them, it may sound too dull, but to me they were annoying. Each one was of deep luteous shade.

I remembered (Miracles do happen, then? Hahaha!) that the Falls-Team arranged delivery of a new walking frame was due to arrive today. So I got with doing the Health Checks sharpishly. The flipping SYS is still high!

The temperature, using the stick thermometer was the highest its been in many a month!

But that’s a good thing, I think anyway? I don’t think its too high at all.

I took a photo of the tablet trays, to show you how it is so easy to make a mistake in taking them. Although these pods were designed, to make it easier for we slightly more mature dodderers, and cut back on such errors. As you can see, the pills are all over the placed, many stuck under the covers, and others had moved into another compartment altogether! Many were stuck on the glue, others by the static electricity in the packaging. When they were first introduced, they told me they’d be fool-proof as well! Hah!

Obviously, they had forgotten about the well known locally ‘Special Skills’ of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up Mansfield Road, from the Lidl store.

I’d no idea what time of day the frame might come, so I got on with updating the Saturday post. Got it completed and Pinterested some snaps from it. Went on Facebook updating, then the same with the WordPress Reader. Emailed the link, and made a brew of Glengettie Gold.

I closed down Computer Cameron and got some hand-washing done, before doing the ablutions. The old oven grabbers were washed with the other stuff. I’ve still got the new gloves, but these although hard to clean, easy to dirty, and very old and tatty (a bit my me really, Hahaha!), they’re more effective and easier to hold onto when Shaking Shaun or Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters play up.

I had a bit of spontaneous breakfast after the washing was done, wrung and hung—cheese biscuits and a pot noodle, and off to the wet room for a scrubbing-up.

I needed a Porcelain Throne visit first. One of the easiest for a long time. Yee-Ha! Still painful, of course, but so much quicker than even yesterday’s was! A bit of blood, a smidge messy. Needed cleaning up before I took a shower, Haha!

But would the cistern clear things? No! I needed to hand-fill the tank a couple of times, and still, some bits were floating even then? Aggravannoying!

The ablutions were miraculously incident-free again! Not much bother from Toothache Terence, only one dropsy of the toothpaste tube! The shaving produced only two little nicks that did not bleed much at all. Doing the showering and only one mini-dizzy-spell, and three dropsies! Drying off went well, too!

Ah, well, the medicationalisation didn’t go as smoothly, I’m afraid. I thought that the rear-end furuncle was clearing up yesterday, I was wrong, and applied the ointment a little too roughly, and the blood flowed! So had to apply some Dakacort cream to get it to stop! I cunningly did this in the shower area and then sprayed-away the resulting blood flow mess using the shower-head. (Smart, eh? Smug-Mode-Adopted!) Harold’s Haemorrhoid’s done with the Germoloid cream, and Arthur Itis’s knees and hands with the Phorpain Gel. I felt rather good about how I coped these problems!

The leg ulcer, or Clopidogrel allergy markings, had spread-out but got fainter, and some new ones appeared on top of the right foot, below the base of the toes. The fresh ones looked like freckles. Ah, well, it stops me getting bored, Hehehe! 

I got the new PPs on, a pair of trousers, and the maroon zip-up shirt. The Sock-glide was given a sneer of contempt, as I left the wet-room.

Because I was not wearing any socks, and the vicious, finger bruising and crushing monstrosity, was again, not going to be used, and my digits and legs put at risk of injury once more! Not that it scares me, of course! Oh, no!

Then, I set-too making up some black waste bags, and put the Floor-Voting paper on them, so as not to forget to take them with me on the way out with the bags, to the Rubbish chute, and take the voting paper down to the lobby.

I got a face-mask on, and the items were carried by hand, using only the wooden walking -stick. For some unknown reason, at that time, I felt in a rather panurgic, ready-for-anything mood? Yes, it confused and baffled me as, why as well!

By the time I’d got out, and to the chute-room, unfortunately, things had changed quickly. I was all over the place with the walking stick, and must have appeared drunk to anyone who might have seen me? The old balance had gone to pot again. I got the bags in the chute alright though.

Then clouted my right elbow against the door frame, on the way out of the room!  A spot of turbidity in the brain as I waited for the lift down to the ground-floor lobby. By the time I’d got down to the ground floor, and into the main hall, my balance was a lot better, and the foggy-brain seemed to be clearing. What’s going on here?

I posted the floor colouring preferences sheet into the ballot box.

And again, with a renewed physical and mentally settled state, I got the lift back up to the flat.

Where, perversely, the semiobscurity returned to the brain and vagueness, a lack of concentration came over me. My memories of getting Josie’s meal prepared is a bit sketchy. I discovered later on that I’d forgotten to photograph it, yet everything from when I wheeled it to Josie’s door, is crystal-clear? We chatted a short while, and I returned to the flat’s kitchen to get the cleaning up done.

I was doing well again, and then almost flaked out. My body and mind told me to get down in the chair, and stay there; I checked that I had on Medical Alert Alarm wristlet, which I did. And I immediately nodded of fitfully. I kept on waking up with the sunshine coming through the thin, decrepit, holed, curtains. But, nodded back off almost straight away each time. I suddenly jumped awake, and felt a different person, back to my old self? I’ll put this on the questionnaire when it comes from the hospital.

But I was feeling fine, and got up to check on the potatoes in the slow-cooker, made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and got the computer back on to update this blog. And Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), were both being good to me! I couldn’t understand what had happened, but I was so happy that things had returned to semi-normal. Obviously, now a scepticism and uncertainty remained, a sort of fear that it might happen all over again. Whatever the heck it was?

The door chimes rang out. It was an NHS chappie, delivering the new narrower walker for me. He was in a rush, my EQ picked up on that. I remembered what Nurse Caroline had told me about not doing anything with it when it is delivered until she calls again on Wednesday. So I put it with the spare three-wheeler on the balcony. I never thought I’d use one of these! It was wider than I expected, and I didn’t cope very well with it, putting it on the veranda, at all.

Updated this blog again, and it is now hours beyond my usual head-down time.

But the need for some Diary TFZer top graphics is urgent, so I moved onto CorelDraw.

Decided to make another brew first, straight Glengettie this time.

Then took a snap of the sunshine, and returned to CorelDrawing at last.

I only got one graphic done, (Tsk!), and made the template for tomorrows, and the got the fodder sorted out. Better late than never!

Battered fish strips, slow-cooked potatoes halved, and a bit of butter and onion-salt sprinkled on them. Garden peas, and some of the delightful baby Piccalo tomatoes. A pot of raspberry ripple mousse from the freezer, thawed out as I as the meal, nicely!

Tired-out now, but I stayed alert enough to enjoy this feast. Deserving of a Flavour-Rating of 8/10.

Went to get the meal things soaking in washing up bowl, and took this photograph of the evening’s view.

Having been up for over 20 hours or so, and in a state of weariness that was high, even for me, I felt so sure that I’d nod-off within minutes of getting my head down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, puke-making beige coloured recliner. It was not to be!

Sweet Morpheous did eventually arrive, but it was gone midnight by then! At least I got around four hours of deep-sleep in, before waking up in urgent need of a wee-wee and the Porcelain Throne. Ah, well, TTFN!

The tale in bad rhyme, of Inchies Escape from isolation, to Nottingham City Centre!

Monday, 7th September 2020, Inchcock escapes from captivity and cunningly flees his Woodthorpe Court. To investigate the Coronavirus affects in the City Centre, buy stuff he doesn’t need, cripple his poor feet, and a failed search for a chinwag!

Plans were laid,

For his escapade,

The Escape bid was made,

He was feeling fraught and afraid!

Arriving on Upper Parliament Street,

Alighted the bus, hobbles to Poundland,

Already pains from Relux Roger and his feet,

He spent on superfluous stuff, like crabmeat,

Then to the Bargain shop, wishing he could find a seat!

He bought three things, none of them needed,

His enthusiasm for his escape, now, receeded,

Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding, succeeded,

His finances, he had further bleeded!

He hobbled along Milton Street then,

Down Clumber Street, he was saddened, when,

He saw the closed shop, there were over ten,

Including his camera shop, he nearly cried then!

Sadly, he made his way to the end,

Feeling lonely and down a bit,

What Coronavirus has created, can we mend?

Oh, dear, a penny he needed to spend!

The urge he had to suspend!

To the corner of Long Row, he did wend!

A photo of Pelham Street he did take,

Then one a shot backwards up Clinton he did make,

Long Row, too, where he took some more,

Off towards his bus stop in the Slab Square,

Paramedics, Security Guards, were there,

The people looked so full of despair!

The rain came down, he took shelter from it,

Under the shop eaves, but it didn’t last long,

He took this photo, he quite liked the resulting effect,

His bladder was full, to the bus stop direct!

En route, Slab Square was photographed,

He tripped on the wheeled trolley walker,

He even managed a little laughter,

When he passed wind and hiccoughed! 

He caught the bus back, a painful drive home,

Got off on Chestnut Walk, glad he finished his roam,

Damn it, he’d forgot to get his shaving foam!

He sheltered from the sudden rain,

Under the cover, and gloom was falling again,

He belched, it smelt like aminomethane,

He hobbled toward home; it was a strain!

He got in his flat,

He untangled his hearing aids from his mask,

It was a fiddley, difficult task!

Made himself a meal that,

Was too big, but not too much fat,

He fell asleep, and that was that!

Not a very good ode this time, uncertainty and confusion were visiting me. Sorry.

Evening Skies, from Inchcock’s Kitchen Window – Part of the The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe series

Evening Skies, from Inchcock’s Kitchen Window

2Tue26

Views that started Inchcock’s brain rambling off, thinking, pondering over and worrying about everything. Frustrated that he can do nothing about anything nor even comprehend, understand or communicate with his own mind!

2Tue07b

The sky tonight: It’s polymorphous really did impress me,

The dying sun, struggling through the darkness, expressly,

Should have inspired a song, probably from Elvis Presley,

Magnificence flowed, from apex to apogee,

The above line is wrong, I couldn’t find another word to rhyme, you see!

2Tue08a

Ah, the joys of living up high up in the clouds, primarily,

Where I can feel abandoned, sometimes get a bit dizzy,

Seek happiness… but that’s another story,

Viewing this landscape installs much inner psychoactivity,

I had to break off a while, I’d had too much curry,

So off to the Porcelain Throne in a hurry.

2Tue09

As to the reason for the natures ostentatiousness, I’m not privy,

Why mankind’s existence? Finding out is no tantivy,

No point in searching, so close to my logging out of life’s activity,

I blame my failure, on my brains under-activity,

Also on my abundant  impecunity,

My lack of faith and the absence of any divinity!

2Tue10

I’m aware my brain has an impaired cognitivity,

My physical condition deteriorated, no longer of its high-quality,

Ailments abound, and the midriff is a superabundant mass, too much quantity,

My life’s actions have had little bioactivity on others, that’s a sad pity,

Relationship-wise, there’s been a paucity!

2Tue10a

Fellow workers seemed to be more successful, with greater superiority,

They had confidence; that bosses mistook for ability!

Too late for me now, as I approach my senility,

Now I’m classed as having a disability,

I mean apart from my natural stupidity!

2Tue11

Porcelain Throne evacuations, now show great fluidity,

This occurs now with a pungent consistency,

The monthly medications increasing, remind one of mortality,

The brain wakes in the morning with even more veracity,

Often with thoughts lacking in reality,

But I do my best to keep my humour and morality!

2Tue12

I try to keep my medical appointments with accuracy,

I do my bestest, to avoid any turpitude and degeneracy,

Keeping my perambulations regular and ambling, not sprightly,

Sometimes I forget to take my medicines nightly,

When I do miss them, I accept the pains, quite quietly,

For it was me who caused them by acting deficiently!

2Tue12a

I wrote these words in a mood, benignantly,

I dream of helping others to have a laugh, but not confidently,

For I fear that humour’s now being received with severity,

Not with a smile, merriment, or joviality,

Still, the photographicalisations came out chromolithographic.

 

I blame folks worrying, over the UK’s Brexitaliticalisationing!

Bank Holiday Weekend – Inchcock doesn’t like em!

Worrisit abarght Bank Holidays that upset the Old Git?

Days without any buses to get him anywhere,

Spends too much time sat in his computer chair,

Days stuck communicating with the blogosphere,

GF1704

Tormenting his haemorrhoids in his recliner chair,

Global-Virgin will fail again, but this is not rare!

He thinks back to 1962, when he had an affair,

He eats, no one to talk to, he gets chubbier,

Ever increasing weight, makes him feel even barmier!

GF1704

His neighbour residents go off but to where?

To visit friends and families, kids or maybe an heir?

They go to  the Bahamas, New York or Guinea-Bissau, 

He can’t afford a holiday away, that’s not fair!

GF1704

Leaving the sad repugnant Gerry, lonely and in despair,

No buses, can’t get to see his Sister Jane to eat one any donair,

Then pass wind and get thrown out, with Janes usual flair.

GF1709

Wondering why he is short, fat and has no hair,

No social skills, not distinguished or debonair,

His body and mind in a state of disrepair.

July8c

Feeling down, he sometimes gets out of the chair,

In search of biscuits, cheese curls or a chocolate eclair,

If his breasts get any bigger, he’ll need a brassiere!

How will he cope this weekend?

Will his depression ever mend?

I fear he may do something that might hyperextend…

His sanity, health and his stomach may well distend!

When will his eating ever end?

No, hang on, he might yet kick this depressing trend…

Red Dwarf’s on TV later – but he’ll never stay awake to the end!

GF1704

The reason for this pathetic rhyme not making much sense, and the gammaticalerrors, are put down to Inchcock’s lack of education, his being stupid, his losing the battle against the Pestering Ironclad black biting mini-beetles/weevils and their being no buses for him to use.

GF1704

 

 

Inchcock Today – Thursday 22nd March 2018

Thursday 22nd March 2018

Cebuano: Huwebes Marso 22, 2018

0300hrs: I instantly stirred into imitation life of sorts. The brain caught up, and I mused over the day required actions. Get up and crack on with finishing the two-part Wednesday blog. Morrison delivery is due twixt 0630>0730hrs. Dentist appointment at 0930hrs. This was enough to fully engage the available grey-cells for the moment. Looking around at the mess from the upgrade work, prevented me from welcoming the day.

An ethereality lingered and tormented me. A feeling of certainty of the absence of any afflatus’ or creative impulses or ideas, ensured my characteristics and attitude would start off as one of diffidence and floccinaucinihilipilification. (I knew one day this word would fit the bill to use one of my blogs, Hehe!).

I unwillingly coerced and disencumbered my aged-body from the £300 second-hand recliner, and to the kitchen to do the Health Checks and take the medications. Quite how the dust from the window upgrading had gotten into the tablet compartments with closed lids and placed in a drawer, will have to remain a conundrum for now.

Huh! Now I have to dust the tablets, capsules and pills before I can take them!

I managed to get the camera out of the crack in the window to take a shot down below. But the new ledge outside is far too broad and long for me to be able to get a clear shot.

04Thur04Off to the Porcelain Throne. A little less bleeding this morning from the front end, but the usual for the last two days. Then the flood from the rear end from Harold’s Haemorrhoids.

Got the computer on. It’s Lynda Lores Birthday today, I must make time to do a Happy Birthday graphic and hope the Facebook lets me work, for the lass.

Made a start on the first part of the Wednesday double post. Got it finished and then did the second part. Posted them both off.

Did the second Health Checks

The Morrison delivery arrived. No substitutions. Showed the driver the state of the flat. Got some sympathy from him, bless his cotton socks.

04Thur050810hrs: All readied, and I set off for the Dentists.

Over the road, and up the gravel hill, passing the tree copse on the way.

A lot of dogs taking their owners for a walk. One of them allowed me to fuss their terrier when it came to me. I have to say I enjoyed doing this and seeing her little tail wagging.

04Thur07Down the park path onto Mansfield Road, up over the crest and down to the dentists.

A confusion, come maze of plastic fencing greeted me. Some roadworks were in operation.

Luckily they had left just enough room for me to follow the fencing to the dentist front door.

I only got up the steps and two paces further, and I found myself at the end of the queue of patients in line, waiting to record their presence with the receptionists. As this column slowly got shorter, a nurse came down the stair and called out a ladies name, to go up with her to one of the surgeries. A woman behind me answered: “I’m here, still waiting to sign in!” Hehe! It doesn’t seem to matter where I go, mayhem is there!

After a while, I got to the desk and discovered that these receptionist are nearly in the same class as the Lidl and Audio Centre staff. Not as down-putting as the Lidl ones are, and they do not have similar quality sneers as the Audio ones, pretty snotty and they have a decent “Don’t bother me ‘unspoken’ stare” that is pretty intimidating. Also, their Smirks and Sideways Glances were excellent. After she told me I was too early and gave me some forms to fill-in, feeling penitential and ashamed of myself, I sat down and got on with doing a crossword.

A threatening looking dentist assistant with tattoos on both arms approached me and instructed me to follow her. When she saw I was struggling a bit with my efforts to stand and walk, she offered to carry my bag upstairs for me.

In the surgery, the male dentist Dr Vitesh Patel greeted me with all the false-enthusiasm of Jeremy Clarkson when not being fed! He quickly got me on the chair and leaning backwards and checked the teggies. As last time six months earlier, he carried out his fetish on the same tooth with the same words, as he did his best to break through with one of his metal probes. On about his fifth stab at it: “There is a tiny hole in this tooth, it might need a filling” I replied: “I’m not surprised, if you don’t stop sticking that thing into it, it’ll be a big hole!” He was not impressed and lost interest. Just like the last visit, he took some X-rays of the same teeth as on that visit. He looked at the gap in the missing tooth at the front and said. Does this bother you? No, I replied. “Okay I’ll leave it then” he responded. Telling me things are okay and assisted me out of the chair.

After ten minutes, if that, I was back downstairs paying the Oberleutnantess receptionist £20.60 for the pleasure. I asked if they could make the appointment for 12 months instead of six. “Not without the Dentists instructions and permission I can’t” Backed-up with a look of incredulousness mingled with a hint of scepticalness. I lied outright and said he did say so! Eventually, after much pondering, she made it for nine months.

I said my farewells and made my way limpingly out into the daylight. Yesterday’s marathon was beginning to make the plates-of-meat really tender and painful now. I dawdled slowly along back the way I came. To the park, and up the footpath. Another dog approached me for some fuss. A long-haired black terrier of some sort. He got plenty from me, and the lady owner said thank you to me as I moved on? Truly amazing, that’s three unknown to me dogs in a few days that have sought me out for some fuss?

04Thur08Up to the top of the hill, and near the tree copse, I stopped on the bottom of the gravel path to take this photograph of the hoist and workers on my floor of the apartments.

The feet were even worse now, really stinging.

But it’s my own fault for walking so far yesterday, innit? Hehe!

I got to the flat, and picked up the raffle prizes and box of nibbles, and back out to the Obergruppenfurheress Wardens Temporary Shed, for the Winwood Tenants Social Hour. Jenny was looking particularly pretty this morning. Cindy was in good form. Cath was too. Everyone there, apart from Big John, seemed in better spirits than of late. I had a chinwag with each of them in turn. (Well, not Big John!). Handed the raffle prize in, and took the nibble-box around, having a laugh here and there as I did so. Got some raffle tickets and handed them out to others. Stayed beyond the hour this time. Enjoyed it.

Back to the flat, had a wee-wee, did the Health Checks.

04Thur11

Got the food in the oven tray ready to cook later, turned the oven on to warm up. A ready-made vegetarian moussaka. I added tons of extra grated cheese and some sliced tomatoes on top of it. Some battered onions ready to add later. Got a few red onion slices on the plate.

P1270930Started to do this blog. After a few hours the door chime rang-out. It was young bloke from Willmot-Brown. Came to measure the gap left at the bottom of the balcony door.

I let him in and started telling him about the curtain not being replaced and how I could not manage it on the steps. This made no impression, other than he asked which team did the window. I didn’t know, did I.

He finished measuring and said he would be back tomorrow to fill in the holes in the floor and apply the plastic board on top.

I updated the calendar and diary with the dates for the next dentist visit, Wednesdays INR blood test and the Morrison delivery.

Did the Health Checks etc.

Back to updating this diary.

Went to the WordPress reader page. Then did some commenting.

Facebook no letting me import to photo albums. Going too slow and sticking. Grr! Poor Lynda Lore! Well, I can wish her love and happiness for her Special Day, with a cyber cuddle and gentle non-intrusive massage too! XXX ♥♥♥

Got the oven on.

Nosh – Nice but far too many courgettes and aubergines, especially with the INR Warfarin level being so low.

I picked a lot of them out of the meal, to be on the safe side.

I bought these, cause they were on offer at 3 for £6. I’ll have to give the other two away if we have any vegetarians in the block.

Utterly shattered and tired out, I fell asleep after eating the meal. Woke and got up around 0200hrs!

I Expect I Have Been Ostracised By What Ashes Remain of My Sanity

Nightmares visit, every single night,

Often lurking on throughout the day, it’s a saneness-losing fight,

Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas; a terrible sight,

The ailments leave me in a painful plight,

Everything attacks me, neighbours, strangers even the dust mite,

Worse, the loss of control of the brain, as the grey-cells take flight,

 Often for the whole day, and overnight,

Can’t remember what’s happened, and I have no foresight,

Life is deteriorating, the future does not look bright,

Time for the Grim Reaper to come, well he might!

Free me from the anguish; that will be alright,

I’m ready now, depressed, lost, but I’ve run out of spite,

I accept this feeling, and am not being trite,

Death, being my only Birthright,

Departing the pain and hassle would be a delight,

I’ll do it now, plenty of medicines with, to ensure I get it right,

No, hang on… not yet, ’cause to my delight…

They’re showing Red Dwarf on the box tonight!

Hehehe!

TFZer Food Related Funny Graphics

TFZer Food Related Funny Graphics – Wot I dun

The first 2 are of TFZers who ar poorly and need our best wishes.

The next 20 or so are new, just completed. The other are old ones to view again and hopefully raise a smile or two for me and you! Hehe!

♥- – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – -♥

New Ones

       

  

Older Ones to smile over (I hope)

 

 

 

 

Inchcock Today – Wednesday 22nd November 2017

Wednesday 22nd November 2017

Maori: Rā Apa 22 Whiringa-ā-Rangi 2017

0105hrs: I stirred in the £300 second-hand recliner. Slowly the brain engaged and I saw the dinner plate with 75% of the cold congealed food still on it. Signs of nocturnal nibbling surrounded me. I got the shpilkes as I noted the empty cheese nibble bag, the open and much less full now chocolate nuts tub with its lid off. The crumbs laying on my over-ample stomach, and for a few moments, I tried to understand why this sitomania is so sporadic.

Dismounting the recliner in response to a demand for utilisationing of the Porcelain Throne, an escaped teaspoon gave me a shock as it fell down the inside of my pyjama legs and clunked on my foot, then I trod on it. Not too bad a session.

Into the kitchen and took this photographicalisation out through the window.

Caught the reflection of the open door, making it appear like an ET transporter or something like that. Might try to use this later to make something amusing.

Took the medications and did the Health Checks.

The computer on and finished off the Tuesday post then started on this one.

Oh, dear, back to the Porcelain Throne again. Painful, but not much bleeding from Haemorrhoid Harold. Very sore, though. It seems the past couple of days unexpected but very welcome better health with far less hassle has come to an end. Because Duodenal Donald started kicking off as well. Tsk!

WordPress Reader, lots of great stuff on today.

Then on to Facebooking. Martin Shuttlecock posted about a little quiz on your phycological age profile.

This is how mine came out. Hehe!

Spent three-and-a-half hours on doing a TFZer graphic of the lads.

Going to have to think up a funny caption for this one before I post it off. Really hope that the TFZers like it and it gets some responses this time.

I wondered what the noise was when I went to make a cuppa. T’was the wind along with the occasional drizzle.

A little grim looking outside, but I do not intend to venture out today, as I  am not feeling up to much now, I decided against it.

Duodenal Donald, Trotsky Terence and a rare until a yesterday headache, were the predominant reasons. Oh, and toothache.

As for the penarious plans, I’m going to do a steak pie and remove the crusty top. Or, indeed tops, plural. I have two small ones in the fridge, both with a termination date of today. I may make some gravy to soften it further and not bother with anything else, apart from the last remaining soft cob to dip into the juices.

Made the washing things readied in the bag with the laundry for the morning. I’ll not get them all in one wash, so I’ll do one in the AM and another on Friday morning. All being well and the brain is functioning alright. Haha!

Got making up some humour tops for the diaries and setting up a couple of days worth of templates.

I took time out to do another TFZer humorous graphic. This is Pattie from Canada. ♥

Got it posted to the site, and then back on the Headers creating.

Finished the page-top headers.

Getting tired now, Duodenal Donald is not letting up on me, Tsk!

I was going to put the beef pies in an oven-tray, but could I find the tray I was sure I’d used last night? No! So I got a new one out, foiled it and went to put them on the stove. Then realised I’d left the tray in the oven with the potato-waffle-sticks in… They were very burnt. Whatta Plonka!

Back on updating this post, set the timer for 15 minutes so I can try to add the last of the waffles to it, in the hope they get cooked at the same time. I put the chip things in when the alarm went off.

Done that now. Turned off the computer so I don’t get carried away and forget about the nosh.

The meal turned out very tooth-friendly as it happens.

One of the least painful repasts in a long while. I had not made a good job of the gravy, but it did soften everything for me anyway.

Washed the pots and settled into the recliner, and the phone rang. I struggled out of the chair expecting it to be a Pizza delivery bloke again, but I heard nothing on the other end of the line. I assumed whoever it was had rang off as I lifted the receiver.

Back into the chair, and started to watch a ‘Law & Order’ episode. Got to the first commercial break, nodded off and woke an hour or so later. Could not get back to sleep, the mind started one of its ‘Doing what it wanted, when it wanted, how it wanted, totally illogical wandering sessions’!

Inchcock Today – Sunday 8th October 2017

Sunday 8th October 2017

0040hrs: After a lousy few hours waking and nodding off, I eventually found the will-power to extract myself from the £300 second-hand recliner and trundle to the Porcelain Throne. Where things in the lower regions seemed to have altered yet again – back to the winds emitting without solids, innards churning and my sneezing regularly once more. My toothache was far worse than of late, this I put down to the substantially rocklike nature of the batter on last nights fish fingers in the meal

I assembled the washing and accoutrements in the bag, and poddled down in the lift and got the washing machine going.

0106hrs: To the apartment and got the medications taken and the new doses pots for next week sorted.

0135hrs: Down again to the laundry and moved the clothing from the washer into the dryer.

I popped out through the foyer doors to take a look around outside. No signs of the predicted meteor shower as far as I could see, anyway.

I noticed that the bottle recycling bin that was emptied on Thursday was overfilled again. Every one of the glass containers was of alcoholic related liquids. Seems we must have an above average number of  Three sheets to the wind artists and well-lubricated old boozers in our block then? I’m jealous that they can afford to.

0150hrs: When I got to the lifts to go back up, number one was on the 3rd floor, number two on the 6th floor. I pressed the call button, and number one went up to the 8th floor, number two up to the 11th floor? Then elevator one came down to the ground floor – how this can occur, I can’t comprehend, understand or know. Tsk!

Getting into the lift, I examined the still there on the floor after three weeks, ‘Wachileno’ amoeboid (Alien Blob).

The worm-like birth in the centre has moved, and it looks like a new growth is taking place. See the fresh light brown patch above left of the original whatever platyhelminth like creature it is? I wonder which planet the Alieness that laid this came from? Hahaha!

0233hrs: Back to the laundry room.

I took some cleaners with me so I could titivate the mess left on top of the first washer.

Then I took the cleaned washing out of the dryer, cleaned the drum casing and filter.

Retrieved the clobber and folded it and loaded it in the bag.

0258hrs: Up and got the clothes stored away and refilled the cleaning gear pots ready for the next visit to the Laundry Room.

Made a mug of tea and got on with updating yesterday’s diary.

Did Email checks. Then started this post off.

WordPress reading next.

TFZing, but it was hard with the Virgin Internet going so slow and losing it regularly.

Facebook then. But the internet connection from Virgin Media had got so slow I had to give up on it.

Got the fodder ready early.

As Tim Price would say, it was very tooth-friendly.

The canned mackerel in BBQ sauce very tasty. A shame the banana was over-ripe and had gon furry inside, though.

I tried the Idahoan Cheddar Mash today. Greatly disappointed with it. There was something in it that tasted like it should not be there. Checked the label and found that it was coconut?

I’ll put the other packets up for a raffle prize, if I remember, I’ll offer Jenny some as a little thank you for caring for us.

That will teach me not to buy things, well, so many of them, without trying them out first!

They were very expensive as well. Back to the own-label cheaper ones next time. Tsk!

I got the google-box on ready to watch the England football match, then started to do the washing up, when Sister Jane telephoned me.

While I was listening to her tales and enjoying it, the thought that I had left the hot water tap on came to me – I explained to Jane, who understood and went to check it out. Yes, I’d left the hot-water faucet running. Luckily, only very slowly.

As I went back to Jane on the landline, that dreaded wet & warm sensation from the rear-end was sensed. I told Jane, and again she understood. Off to the wet room and started to check things out. Oh dear, the blood! Harold’s Haemorrhoids had and were almost spitting the blood out. This told me that at least only the external ones were bleeding. Heck of a job to stop them this time.

Cleansing, creaming, medicating and the use of almost a full kitchen towel was needed, along with a lot of patience. They were stinging someone afterwards, so I took an extra painkiller with the evening Health Checks and medications.

Dizzy Dennis had a go at me as I settled to watch the football game. I was getting a little despondent with things now. Huh!

I was even lower in spirits after the match. England’s campaign ended in victory – but mediocrity!

Still, apart from Hamorrhoid Harold and the odd twinge from Anne Gyna, the ailments had settled along with me to get some sleep.

A Photographic Visit to see Old pussies Fooey, Albert, Sister Jane and Hubby Pete (Jane’s hubby, not mine! Hehe!)

Fooey consuming his fodder

Fooey having consumed his nosh!

Fooey with that “Anymore please” look. Bless him!

Jane and Pete trying to get Fooey to pose!

Jane, looking good, picking her figs, drink in hand!

Albert, unimpressed with being a photographic model!

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Albert threatening the birds – and Humans! Hehe!

Wish someone had told me the hen was a fake. Hehe!

The old pensioner caught Tree-Hugging again!