Inchcock Diary & Ode to Putin, Tuesday 7th June 2022

Tuesday 7th June 2022

07:30hrs: Woke wanting a wee-wee. I thought it would never come; it must have been 15hrs without one. It was hardly worth it, a painful sprinkle or two. At least the bladder is working again, so fingers crossed!

I set, too, giving myself a medical MOT. And taking ‘As needed’ non-prescription medications. There is no need for ointmentating this morning, No Little Inchies fungal lesion or Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding whatsoever! Excellent results on the blood pressure machine, best for ages!

The only thing not so good was the body temperature. That was way down low again. Been under the NHS’s recommended 35°c for a few days now. I don’t feel poorly; I am a lot chirpier in myself this morning. Although I felt so cold when it obviously isn’t?

I took some under-tongue CBS oil. And a Hemp capsule too.

Got the ears well saturated with the Olive oil. Let it sink in, and then I filled up the canals with more. This never seems to help, but I’ve got into the habit of doing it each morning now.

Then took a Dioctyl to help skid up the darned Porcelain Throne evacuations. Messy. Gooey, watery! Eurgh!

I got a few Warfarin tablets ready, so the carers will have some available for the evening doses.

Then, had a bash at syringing both ears. Not only a total waste of time; I failed to remove any wax at all, but I made such a mess I had

to clean up the water that had sprayed out off or missed the ears! Hehe!

Got the kettle on and sorted the laundry, not forgetting that talk-a-lot Esther would give me some hassle if it wasn’t ready and sorted when she arrived later this morning! Not that she scares me an anything like that, of course. Ahem!

I took this snap of the lovely morning sky with its ever-changing hues. Mother Nature, again shows us her beauty! The beauty we have been destroying for years.

Got the computer on and started on the WordPress reader and commenting, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chime brought forth Carer Richard. I thought the lad was late coming; he’s had extra calls on again and was in a rush because he had a four-hour training session later when he finishes work with the Diabetes team to get through. No time for any good natterings today again. I think he felt guilty about it, so I tried to cheer him up, wished him all the best, and gave him a bag of treats. Then, I walked (well, hobbled) with Richard to the lift lobby and wished him well for the meeting.

Took this photo of the car park in front of Woodthorpe Court from the kitchenette window. Made a brew of Glengettie tea and was about to return to the computer with the nug of tea – but circumstances changed…

As usual with Neuropathy Pete, his timing caused the optimum amount of pain and hassle. An involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance made me drop the cup as I grabbed Metal-Micky and the side of the sink to keep from going over. Once more, it was over in seconds, but I still managed to clout my knee on the edge of a floor cupboard. Which awakened Cartilage Cathy in agony! Humph!

Sorted myself out and took an extra Codeine. And fond this photo of a meal from which I can’t work out? It was not a good photo in any way, shape or form, so it might be one that I meant to delete from the file?

Started on the Snippets blog, and the Iceland delivery arrived. I let him in through the intercom box in the hallway, and I cleared a path to put the bags into.

The driver took the bags through to the kitchen for me. Gave him a choice of plonk cans in thanks. He opted, I noticed, for the Rum and coke. Hehe! Good for him; I hope it cheered him up a smidge.

They sent the Rustlers for Richard, sugar snap peas, mushrooms and some new Pork & Pickle Bites. Three for a fiver, so they must be good. One for Josie, one for Richard and one for Esther. I got some small apples that, hopefully, my lesser-teethed mouth can manage to eat. Har-har! They had no small vine tomatoes in stock but have sent me a pack of large tomatoes, Dutch, that had a sell-by date for today. No charge!

The best thing they had sent was the No-Moo ice creams and No-Bull burgers. The best of any burgers I have tried! The ice cream is by far superior in taste to what one might call natural ice cream. Grrreat Flavour both! I’d have ordered more, but I dared not with Iceland’s record of crap unrelated substitutions!

I had another go at getting the Snippet Ode done. (I did get it finished, but not until I’d been grafting on it, on & off, for another nine hours!) Esther arrived and came talkingly into the room. She still wasn’t near enough for me to hear her, and I feared that she may have something vital as she went into the hall, front, and living rooms.

It’s not so bad when she’s face to face and not shouting at me rather than talking to me. Esther, bless her, has a habit of talking and carrying on. Esther keeps talking to me from the rear of my ear lobes as she turns away… the peace and quiet are nice. But there is always danger in this… She has a great memory and thinks because she’s told me something, I must have heard it and will remember it. (Both are impossible in my condition, Haha!)

Then, a week later, I get an ear-bashing from about 4 inches distance and am informed that “I told you that last week!” telling offs. Luckily I can rest assured that Esther will nip off into the other room to have a nosey around my boxes and occasionally iron a shirt… but talking to me all the time from the other room… still, I knew what to expect. Hehe! Obviously, I had forgotten something or not heard it. I’m glad I got the pork & pickle thingamabobs for her now. Giving her then assuaged her aggression. I joke, of course… Erm? She’s an angel, really.

I got the ready meal into the oven and had roughly 40 minutes before it was cooked. I must not fall asleep!

Back to doing the blog, I trudged. ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and I wearily (Mentally) went to the door. It was Josie, returning the tray and things for me from the Sunday meal. Bless her cotton socks; she enthused over the taste of this Sunday’s chilli stew! That cheered me up a bit! She even asked if I used to be a chef? Oh dearie me! My EQ was nervous at this. Naturally, I had no idea why at the time. A feeling of foreboding matured…

I got on with the Snippet blogging again! So deep in concentration… still making errors after cock-ups, though. Then it dawned on me that the food was in the oven!!!

Grade A: It looked like this after I’d burnt my fingers getting the tray out of the oven post haste! Not good, is it? But I was so tired and weary that I still used it and made a meal of sorts out of it.

I added some BBQ sauce to the tray. Got some slices of Milk Roll bread, tomatoes and sugar snap peas onto the tray.

I was part mad at myself, well darned annoyed with myself, and so tired and drained, I didn’t get too agitated. Yet I still laughed at myself as I tried to dismantle the encrusted burnt meal to get at some edible bits of food. It helped in having some bread and sauce to soak some resuscitated bits to eat.

By the time I’d finished burnt food mining, which was tasty, believe it or not, bits of burnt food had been scattered far and wide on my stomach folds, down the pants, on the tray, and on the floor and recliner cushion. The carpet took on a new design; there were many black, ash-like bits of residue on it. I faced a long task in getting things sorted… and the kitchen and oven needed cleaning attention as well.

I was all in by the time I got things semi-put right. I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea and ate a huge bowl full of veggie ice cream! I finished it and lay there as I dropped off to sleep – it was so good that I think I dreamed of sleeping…

♫Oh, Susana♫ Chimed out, and Carer Valerie came in. I’d been up and about for around 12 hours by then, and waking up after five minutes of sleeping was not what I wanted… Hehehe! I remembered to give Valerie her Pork & Pickle whatsits, though.

I felt awful but could not resist the urge to finish the blog. The internet went down… now I was getting annoyed!

I pressed on and got the Snippets blog finished at long last. It stayed that way; it was now gone midnight! I realised then that I had not done the ablutions today!

Humph!

ODE TO PUTIN

Is it true that hopes and expectancies are always there?
Putin’s are conspicuous, World Domination, I fear…
He’s somewhat of a Worldwide parcel courier?
Soon, bigger, dirtier packages will be sent, and nuclear…
Where will the scumball strike next? Europe and Asia, it’s unclear…
Anywhere, somewhere, possibly a country that’s weaker?

Is it true that he wears a lemon and pink brassier?
Shags Igor Sechin, his First Deputy Prime Minister?
He laughs at citizens dead or gathered for warmth around a brazier,
The man could not be any more selfish and crazier!

I insult the shithead cause there’s nothing else I can do…
But I would, if I could, send him a can of poisoned Irish stew,
I wonder if he likes it from his minions in his rear?
He’d like to make his competition dead or disappear?
What competition? He’s got more weapons & forces than we do…
He’s more soldiers in Moscow’s Red Square!

We cannot afford to send troops there…
We’ve not got enough, nor has anyone else, to be fair…
I wish we could send him Tony Blair…
Notice he’s not volunteered to do any damage repair?
Putin offers and hopes only for death and despair…
To the rest of the world, we can only die or forebear…
Unless you bribe him if you’re a financier?
Then he just might take a fancy to yer?

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock Photographs & Odes: Wed-Thur 26-27th May 2022

WEDNESDAY 26th MAY 2022

Well, the lower legs are looking betterer?

The blood taking hole is standing up well. Hehe!

BP is fine again.

♫ Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain… ♫
♫ Telling me just what a fool I’ve been… ♫

My bad luck, or lack of good fortune, continues!

A simple nosh made for a simpleton,
Who knows not what is a sextillion…
Who passes wind, and creates a septon,
Dementia has made his brain wanton…
Yet had a dream, a hope and a premonition…
One day he’ll write a daily newspaper’s feuilleton,
But he’s too old now, this bald, retarded Briton…
He still cooks, nowt fancy like venison or a wonton,

I’ve waffled again, then again, and so did Byron?
I’ll try summat daring – like eating a persimmon!
I’m mentally decaying, needing a psychosurgeon?
Desperate to be seen by a neurosurgeon…
To be honest, I’d take from any chirurgeon!
Even if it helped just as smidgeon…
To slow down my deteriorating condition!

Evening carer has been, all shattered, but mentally okay,
Of course, there was no chance of it staying this way…
Control of my grey-cells thinking seems so far away…
No matter what I try, the confusion’s here to stay…
Of course, I’ve tried for help; I often pray,
But there’s no chance of improvement, I daresay…
Just have to hope tomorrow is a better day…

Lost the plot on this Ode; I don’t need to be told,
My mind refuses to be controlled…
I’ve no virtues of being extolled…
I’m not feeling very bold…
Problems that need to be resolved?
Why has my good-luck gland never evolved?
Why have I never won a gold?
No wonder my hopes have dissolved!

You may think this diary is so short on content and reckon I’d lost the reminder pad, and I spent hours searching for it and couldn’t find it anywhere? Panicked and faffed about, stubbing my toe and using naughty language as I built up my hatred for Vascular Dementia Doreen?

This guesstimate or thought would be Spot-On!

THURSDAY 26th MAY 2022

Cor blimey, and luv-a-duck! What a fantastic kip I had last night! I reckon I’d had about seven uninterrupted hours with Sweet Morpheus! I stirred back into pretending life around 0535hrs.

Of course, with not getting up repeatedly for a wee-wee, I was in a desperate need within seconds of waking up. The trip to the bucket was interrupted by a new requirement – the Porcelain Throne.

The lower back pain kicked off as I turned with metal Mickey in hand to divert to the wet room. In the hallway, dang it! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters came back online, and the leg flailed… straight into the edge of the doorframe, acquiring a rather nasty toe-stubbing to add to my slowly increasing collections of morning pains!

And what a messy session it turned out to be! Despite waiting many minutes for the motion to start and having a failed attempt at getting any clues answered on the crossword that I’ve now been doing on the throne for over a week, there were no indications of any progress. So, I started counting the new veins that had come upon the leg. Having worked out that only two new ones had come up and felt for sure at least five had gone down, I was considering going into a Smug-Mode…

Then, the… well, an explosion is the only word to describe it – the evacuated product burst out in some haste, and I could feel the splashes rebounding back up to my bottom and gentleman’s tackle storage area. What a mess the Throne and I ended up in! So, I set to cleaning and freshening things and me up in the wet room. I was caught out, right and proper, by Trotsky Terence’s reappearance after a few days. Humph!

All spick and span again, and feeling a smidgeon proud of how I handled the unfortunate evacuation, I departed the wet room on my way to treat myself to a mug of tea. And clouted my shoulder on the doorframe, setting Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off jigging all over the place in her effort to dislodge the shoulder bone, I think!

MedPhorpainNeedless to say, I was a little pee’d off now. I took a painkiller with the tea and rubbed some Phorpain Gel well into Shirley’s shoulder where I could reach. I felt sorry for myself, and I reflected on who was really to blame. Doreen’s Dementia, Nichodemuses Neurotransmitter, Neuropathy Pete, Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys, and me! So many options came to mind that I decided all of these were at fault or the causes of my morning’s dilemmas.

I took a snap of the view from the kitchen window. Although it may have been from yesterday now, I think of it. Dementia Doreen is not easy to live with.

I got on the computer to finalise and post the local News Snippets blog. I pressed on regardless, and I lost a lot of time changing the central Ode. Why? I forget why I thought it was a good idea. The original and one I ended posting were both crap, anyway! But then, I’m good at crap. Consistently, I reliably churn it out.

I went to make another brew, determined to get this one drunk! The red sky reminded me of the old saying, “Red Sky at Night, Shepherds delight!” By the time I’d taken the pictures, the red sky had gone.

When I checked the photos on the camera, I was not impressed at all. But of course, with Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades Sandra lingering, what would I know. Hehehe!

Ah, when I got these on later, they looked so different in the Preview window than on this editor that I’m using.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and in came two carers. They were not listening types; both were supervisory. It is my fault for talking to them when they sorted out the paperwork. I must stop doing that!

I went into the balcony, opened the end window, and took this shot of the Chestnut Way end car park… Trapping my finger in the spring lock as I close the window afterwards. Tsk!

I’d anticipated Richard coming today. My grasp on actuality had gone away. One of them had returned to the fold, and I was ready to listen to my tale of the potato husks that I’d left in the oven for eight hours overnight. I’d kept them to show to Richard, but they got a laugh out these gals when I showed them to them. Haha!

I got on with the updating and posted it to WordPress. Had a while on Facebook Catchup. Then made a start on the first Ode for this one.

Blimus! It was gone midday in no time!

I must get the WP comments to read and answer. Then I read the WordPress Reader new blogs and commented on them.

The Evening Carer will be due soon, Valerie, I hope. I’m going to get my wash and change into the night attire now, TTFNski. The ankles were a bit blotchy again? The INR being high?

A can of the veg chilli-con-carne, baked some chunked potatoes, last of the Milk Roll bread, and a pot of weak watery Morrison’s Honey flavoured yoghourt. I enjoyed it. Taste Rating: 7/10.

Arrived after I’d washed the pots up. Forget the Carer’s name again, nice gal.

I got down to kip, but the notable changes in the evening sky forced me to keep getting up to take photographs of the views. I’ll put them on Friday’s blog; hopefully, the SD reader will be working better then.

Sleep was a long time in coming. But that was my fault for me keeping getting up several times to photograph the changing sky.

Ode To Hope

Every time I think things may improve, I suffer a forfeiture,
For being foolish enough to be a self-deluder?
Of course, existence will just get crappier,
Anyway, if things went right, would I be happier?
Good fortune for me; it would be so unfamiliar…
No doubt it would make me feel guilty and peculiar?
I’d probably go into shock and have a stroke or seizure…
Not to worry, I’ll take my tablets and a gulp of tincture!

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock Today: Diary & Ode, Sunday 22nd May 2022

Ah, the future of mankind, or an individual punter…
I’m not bothered about myself neverthemore…
My only claim for fame is being an ambidexter!
What prospects are there for the uneducated poor?
They can’t get a job as lamplighter…
They’ve even closed HMP Dartmoor?
Today’s youth will become even boozier,

Price rises will stir more violence and rancour,
The future for proletariat ankle snappers is unsure,
Innocents will be scared to leave their own front door,
Putin, of course, can make a life but a blur…
The Government’ll be worried about expenditure…
It won’t matter if you’re an unclever, underachiever,
In the shelter under No.10, they can still party and decanter?

Hospitals, police gone, what the hell can the poor sods do?
How many have died could be Boris’s main issue…
But it won’t be, I can assure you,
The Stock Market they’ll review,
Sell, sell, sell, or whatever they do…
Claiming insurance on MPs destroyed homes, too…
Scared stiff MPs… what will the stock market do?

Weapon selling will get very little revenue…
Gunrunners flooded the market; it’s all ambrew!
In nuclear fall-out, we’ll all be sodden through,
Fear not of no toilet paper; worry about no loo!
In need of help? There’ll be no one to go to…
But no need to fret; I’m not trying to scare you…
Bur, what if there is no nuclear pas-de-deux?
Oh… I’ve just got a papercut in my pirclicue…

If Putin takes war off of the Moscow maniac’s to-do list…
The proletariats could go back to getting pissed…
Cause it’d be better not to die and go see a traumatologist,
Train for a job in music? What about as a bassoonist?
Or join a drug gang, and you could become the rowdiest?
If you get caught, tell the Police all, get it off yer chest!
Best spend drug money made on a barrister, honest!

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

Sunday, 22nd May 2022

05:454hrs: I woke up and passed the wind. Then I thought about having a wee-wee, but the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived suddenly. I had to gather my thoughts on getting out of the recliner and getting the balance exercises done in time to get to the wet room.

Which I managed without skipping any of the sequences of moves. Damned good session for once.

Then, I needed an extra weewee after the main event was over. Oh, dear, I rushed about to get back in and went a little heavy-handedly on getting to Little Inchie, and I started off the Fungal Lesion bleeding. I cleared and washed things after the leak and had the job of applying the ointment. All I can say is,

I was sorting out waste bags and making a brew when Valerie arrived. After she gave me the medications and went through some questions.

Instant panic overcame me: “Had I left the hot water tap running?” The short answer is ‘YES, I had!

Not only that, in my lunge at the faucet to turn it off, I knocked the cold mug of tea over… one would have expected it to go into the sink… but, oh, no… This is me we are talking about, remember. The luckiest man in Nottingham. The mug bounced in the tap flow onto the edge of the sink, pouring the contents left in it down the front of my pyjamas; I had to clean the cupboard door, sink, floor and my rotund body with cold water! Luckily I now have an ever-increasing mass of flesh all around my midriff, which I pushed up against the sink to stop the mug from falling further – Which meant my protection pants and jammies got the worst water!

Despite my lousy language and wailing, Carer Valerie was oblivious to what had happened. After cleaning things up, she came into the kitchen (She’s not daft!) Off she trotted, taking the waste bag with her for me.

The tap water is now running cold, and it will do so until the heating comes back early tonight! No shaving or owt until then. Humph! I do hate myself at times! Doreen Dementia does it. If ever I get interrupted doing anything, there is always a high risk of a Faux pas, and I forget what the other thing I was doing was… Grunglenagwaggles! I think?

I double-checked the taps, lights, etc., and got the potatoes into the crockpot. There was another Throne visit and two more weewees, and I started prepping things for Josie’s meal.

I got the pork out and added it to the bowl with the sliced onions, mushrooms and leeks. And spotted some string within the edges of the rind of the meat? So, as if I’d not lost enough time already, I had to check over all the meat to see if there was any more string. Good job that I checked it; I found another small piece. (Photo)

It took me ages with cataracts, and I found closing the right eye gave me a slightly better view… But of course, it warped the peripheral view, and I knocked the boning knife off of the counter. It now has its pointed end dented around into a sharp point. What are the odds of another Accifauxpas?

I was washing a basin I’d used, and the landline chimed out. I had to get the basin safe and rushed to get to the phone in time; it took a while. It was Sister Jane. She was in line at the City Ground to collect her ticket for the play-off final for Forest.

Now, this is proof, if the Doctor wants any, that I have Vascular Dementia Doreen: I suddenly thought I might have left the tap running (Cold Water) and excused myself to go and check. I had to, no choice. I grabbed metal Micky and off to the kitchen… The tap was dribbling, and for some reason, I thought it was the hot water tap, and also totally forgot about my leaving the hot water one on earlier, and thought… well, I’m not sure, but I think I told Jane, when I got back to the landline, the hot water tap has run cold? Every time something takes my attention away from what I’m doing, there is a possibility of such farces happening!

However, I didn’t realise this at the time, and we had a chinwag about footy, family etc., for a good while. Colin Cramps was kicking off in the left hand, the bent arm holding the phone for so long; Jane had the same problem, Fatal! Hehehe! Fatal! I foolishly took a swig of nearly cold tea using my right.

Listening to Jane talk, I grabbed some kitchen towels to try to wipe things up. I spilt some tea on the desktop and memory notepad. What the hell next? A little later, Jane rang off as her cramps were getting painful. Bless her.

I cleared up the mess that left some indecipherable scribble on the pad; oh, dear! At long last, I got around to getting the Health Checks done.

At least these results were outstanding all around. SIS 132, DIA 62, Pulse at 79. And the body temperature was the highest it’s been all year. Not that my mind appreciated it at the time. All I could think of was getting yesterday’s blog updated and sent off, let alone thinking of getting this one started! I took some snaps of the car park on Chestnut Way. No RVM? (Red Van Man) I had a look around…

Aha, I found RVM. Parked in the front section. And… parked legally and properly too!

Down below on the right end, I spotted the regularly good parkers, having snuggled their vehicle in nice and tidily!

I updated the Saturday post and got it posted off, much belatedly than planned. Even I didn’t expect so much hassle, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplop to emerge, even for a Sunday! Surely things have got to calm down? Fingers crossed.

Deciding to treat myself to a non-alcoholic, not a Cocktail, but Mocktail. I enjoyed it… until I remembered that it had pineapple in it. What a pillock! Hopefully, it will not affect the Warfarin INR level too much. I looked at the NHS DVT site about fruits to avoid when on Warfarin. In order of the highest in Vitamin K ones: Dates, Plantains, Kiwifruit, Rhubarb, Cranberries, Pineapple, Avocados, Blueberries, and Blackberries. They added; Certain drinks: Cranberry juice, and Alcohol, can increase the effect of Warfarin, leading to bleeding problems. Avoid or consume only teensy-weensy amounts of Cranberry juice and Alcohol. These drinks, when taking Warfarin, can prove fatal in the event of a bleed. Fair enough, I was aware of all of these.

Da-Daa! I hope she likes it again and that there are no more bits of string in the meat! I got Josie’s meal presented and delivered with a few treats and nibbles.

On the computer, WordPress Reader first. Then Facebooking. Finally, WP Comments. Then remembered to check on Amazon to see when the plates were due to arrive. The Amazon site said they were expected to arrive twixt 16:00 and 1800hrs. Fair enough!

They were: 25 Pcs Disposable Palm Leaf Plates – Organic Wooden Plates Biodegradable and Compostable Natural Eco-Friendly Square Party Plates 15×15 cm. I can’t say why I ordered them, but it seemed a good idea at the time. I think there was some specific use I had in mind? But with the mind being under the influence of Doreen’s Dementia, I don’t recall. Not that that is anything unusual. I like the idea of them being eco-friendly?

I pressed on with making this template, then got to record some actual facts and words. For the more discerning blogger to peruse, of course. Both of them! Hehe! The card reader accepted the photos taken today.

Then the plates arrived from Mr Amazon. By gum, they are so light! They have unevenness across the base. Which may cause me problems when moving or using them and the Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, Shuddering Shoulder-Shirley, or Dizzy Dennis kick-off when I’m eating off them? I wish I could remember what it was about them; they must have sounded attractive when I ordered them?

I’m so behind with this blog now; the Evening Carer will be here soon. I was obviously not going to get a shower today or a meal until very late. But despite the hassle, I do love creating my Inchcock Today… Ah, that reminds me, I’d better go and check on the state of the fungal lesion. Back in a bit…

Carer Sarah arrived. Got me sorted, and we had a laugh and natter for a couple of minutes, which I enjoyed.

Worked on the blog, but I was so far behind. Weariness won the battle, and I got down to get some kip. It was late, about midnight, and I was doing my health, mental and eyes no good staying up this late.

At least when I got down, I was soon in the arms of Sweet Morpheus. But had a weird dream; that seemed to go on and on all night?

Inchcock Today: Inchcock Today Diary – Tuesday 29th March 2022

Inchcock Today: Diary Tuesday 29th March

05:35hrs: Woke to pea-souper fog.

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.

Gragnangles!

Inchcock Today – Thursday 6th August 2020: This diary contains an Ablutionalisationing Injury Communiqué, Not for those of a nervous disposition!

TFZer Cool-It-Cabin get-together!

Thursday 6th August 2020

Welsh: Dydd Iau 6ed Awst 2020

02:45hrs: I woke up with an astronomical vagueness all around me. It took me a long time to gather my distant, reluctant thoughts into some form of semi-logicality. Suffice to start arranging and forging some kind of recognisable sense out of them! 

The distractedness of last night had not fully cleared away yet. The fuzziness began to clear, and be replaced with the worries, needs, and plan-making for today.

I realised that the new window cleaner was coming today, also that I had planned yesterday to get the kitchen cleared to give him access to the windows, and I had not done so! Fertummelt! This task became my priority.

I struggled out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner, grabbed the stick, caught my balance, and limped to the kitchenette. The most urgent thing was to get the window ledge cleared. Not an easy task, Dizzy Dennis was on the attack! For much of the time, I needed to use the four-pronged metal walking stick, which made progress slow down to a pathetic level. Then, thankfully Dennis calmed down.

I was annoyed with myself when I saw the recycling bottles that I’d forgotten to take down with me yesterday! Clunk-head!

I took a snap of the window afterwards and tried to catch my reflection in the picture. Hehe! The bald head and the bulging flabby stomach tend to stick out a bit. I’ve just noticed when putting the photo in, how much the man breasts tend to protrude, too! Hahaha!

The summoning from the innards for my attentions being suddenly needed at the Porcelain Throne arrived. I wasted no time and beat a path (although a slightly wobbly one) to the wet room. Oh, what an improved, less painful session it was! It still hurt, of course, but compared to the last couple, it was heavenly! Also much quicker and not messy at all! Mind you, it left a pong that was not very pleasant. Ah-well!

Back to the kitchen, and got the Health Checks sorted.

Oh, ‘eck! The SYS had shot up again? The body temperature showed as just, ‘Low’. I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana.

Got the computer on, and had to make a head-top graphic, due to failure to make one yesterday! Humph!

I updated the Wednesday post and sent off the email link. Then made another brew, of Glengettie tea. (a thirst on me this morning!)

I took two shots of the morning view, the first in Aperture Priority, the second in Auto mode. I think the Auto one wins for more accurate colour?

Got caught up with WP comments, and then Facebooking.

I had a look on Amazon to see if they still had the cheaper offer on the Dettol lavender disinfectant. They had, but it said, ‘Only one left in stock, and unsure if any more will be available’. So muggins here, the favourite retailers type of shopper, ordered it. Then had a desperate last search for brown trousers available in my size. And bought some. I noticed an offer on Domestos. And bought some! Is there such a disease or illness called AGI, Amazon-Gullible-Idiot, I wonder?

Had a go at the WordPress Reader, then off to get the ablutions done.

: What a palava! After the two reasonable, indeed, good, last two sessions. It was back to the regular ablutioning experiences, with the Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxparing this morning.

Ablutionalisationing Injury Communique

  • The teeth cleaning set Toothache Thomas on the rampage! Then I stabbed myself in the gum with the toothpick!
  • I broke a razor! (Gawd knows how, but there you are!)
  • Dropped the foam spray, razors (4), and cut me near my earhole shaving. (See below, it was a most artistic of bleeds. Beautiful original job!)
  • Trying to make sure I didn’t stub the toe when moving the shower chair, I banged my poor old, already multiple-bruised right arm again! Gramshackles!
  • I tooketh the shower, and clouted my right arm on the shower box, when I had mini-dizzy, seconds later, I hit my left arm on the grab bar! (Now I was getting so annoyed with myself, and using naughty language!)
  • It had to happen I suppose, with me being so wound-up, I stubbed the toe against the shower seat legs as I moved it back after taking the shower! The language was getting a tad bluer, now!
  • I dried off without any problems. (There, I got something right. Hehehe!)
  • I dropped the Cortisone tube, and during the medicating, Little Inchies fungal lesion began bleeding! Humph! It took a bit of stopping!
  • The rear end furuncle became inflamed at I applied the Germoloid cream to Harold’s Haemorrhoids! I had quite a few tender areas stinging at the same time now! It wasn’t pleasant. Hahaha!
  • Leaving the room, I had a ‘drift-to-the-right’ episode, and clouted my right arm on the doorframe, yet Again!

No doubt about it, I was pleased to get out of there, and for the incidents to be over! Most annoying, especially as the previous couple of ablution efforts, had gone so well!

The right arm has taken a bashing lately. I just don’t seem able to judge distances accurately anymore. Peripheral Neuropathy?

But, I was pleased I’d got a photograph of the artistic bleeding during the shaving nick bother. Do you think I might stand a chance of getting an offer from the Tate Gallery? Hehe! How the blood ran the route it did, I found surprising. Hey-ho!

A mug of tea, and back on the computing. 09:10hrs and no show from the window cleaner yet. Of course, this started me of twittering, fretting and almost convinced I must have got the day or timing wrong. (I’ve no confidence lately either) The chap arrived ten minutes later.

Did a quick,  efficient job, and charged me £15 quid for the windows and sliding balcony. Did a fair good job. Booked me in again for a month’s, September the third at the same time, I think he said.

Herbert above was doing some tap-tapping and knocking again. I wonder if he is making a wardrobe from scratch? As long as he’s happy. Which is saying something for a laconic taciturnist like John (Herbert) is, compared to an argle-bargle, deipnosophist type bloke, like wot I am! Hehehe!

I made up an order for Iceland and then did a search for a word that I cannot remember. It means someone who is not talkative or revealing. I wanted it to put in the paragraph above, but can’t find it. Gribbledukes! I might not, well, I do not know what the word, but feel confident I’ll know it when I see it. Tsk!

I pressed on with this blog, and the door chimes rang out. It was the postman, delivering my last pack of 6 long, lambswool socks (for winter, if I make it) I stupidly ordered from Amazon. They have soft diabetic top grippers. Now I will be alright for socks, anyway. I’ve probably got more than enough pairs to see myself out. So in the event of my croaking out, I’ve put them in the airing cupboard, for anyone who fancies them.

Got the oven on and put the smoked haddock flavoured fishcakes, in. I must remember to add the fries in ten-minutes. Then hopefully, they will both be ready at the same time, but, ‘best laid-plans’ and all that!

I got the latest figures for Covid-19.

Then I tended to the nosh making duties. The sky was looking good, well, I mean the clods. Even if they were a tad on the dark side.

The fatigue arrived, a little late than usual, and I gave up on computerisationing and got the meal prepared.

And what the festival of a feast it was, too! The smoked haddock filled fish cakes were so moreish! The last of the truffle fries were used (Iceland no longer stock them, Boo!). The surimi stick enjoyed, The Piccolo tomatoes excellent, as was the egg mayonnaise! A well-worthy 8.5/10 for flavour-rating!

I got te pots washed, and settled down in the £300, c1968, unkempt, rusty, rickety, not operational, sickenly beige-coloured, uncomfortable, harmful to haemorrhoids, grotty recliner. Turned of the TV, and chose something to watch, and drifted off into the land of bliss within minutes!

I woke in a bit of the panic, the need for the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) was indeed urgent! The diabetes PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) tinkled away well before I got the bucket! The SSPO (Short-Sharp-Painful-Orange) variety release was soon over, and off I went to the wet room to clean up, disinfect the bucket, and change the PPs. Walking into the doorframe as I went in. This right arm is going to have more bruises than ever! It’s already tender, just putting a coat or jacket on hurts. Hey-ho!

As I got back to the recliner to sit down, the right leg burst forth with an involuntary right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, ending up on my bum on the floor, banging the right arm on the way down, and in agony from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and the leg just kept on kicking out for a minute or so. I stubbed a toe against the metal leg of the swivel chair! 

Not one of my easier Accifauxpas. Claggknackles!

Miraculously, no severe damage, just pain and frustration, oh, and the long-winded challenge of getting my humungously-large flabby-bellied body, up and into the seat!

I was sure the grey-cells would start chewing things over, and Thought Storms would arrive. I was so wrong! No joking… I nodded off, as Sweet Morpheus came, and slept for… wait for it… Seven-hours! Unbroken at that!

Inchcockski – Tue 4th Aug 2020: Ended up with an involuntary Neuropthic leg dance, that had me in a heap on the floor! Tsk!

TFZer, dancing at the Cool-It-Cabin!

Tuesday 4th August 2020

Croatian: Utorak, 4 Kolovoza 2020. Godine

00:05hrs: I made a template for tomorrow, then started this blog off for the day.

The piles were still very tender from the earlier mammoth, excruciating Porcelain Throne visit! That will stay with me until the end of my days! Argh! So bad was their stinging, that I stopped computerisationing, and went and got some Germoloid onto Harold’s Haemorrhoids, gave them another clean-up, and a good creaming. Ahh, that’s a bit better, no, much betterer. Haha! 

I sent the Email link off for yesterday’s post. Then went on the WordPress Reader.

I was making the tea, again, when the OPorcelaio… Porcelain Throne Alarm arrived. (Sorry about that, Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters and Suddering-Shoulder-Shirley clandestinely decided on a sudden joint attack), the innard’s Throne-Alarm arrived. So, off to the wet room.

Trying to find a one-word description of this session was easy today. AGONY! What the hell caused this imitation blackened hazelnuts-like evacuation to give me such pain, I don’t know. But poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids, are in even more discomfort now! It was a slow, no-control-over grind! I just don’t know if taking Macrogol, will help or hinder the situation?

My being a well known, much-mocked and laughed at tergiversator, procrastinator, and a well-intentioned, senility-seeking old fart, but lacking commitment, who over-worries, and at times, is scared to opt for, make a choice or decision, I despair about this! Never used to like it?

Belatedly, I meandered to the kitchen to get the medications and Health-Checks done.

During the ten or fifteen minutes I was in the kitchen, I took some shots of roughly the same view, they made up an interesting little montage, showing how quickly the morning was breaking, really early as well!

I went to the medical cupboard to get the blood pressure machine, and was it there? No!

No panicking, but plenty of confusion milled-about in the brain. I am sure that I put it back in the third drawer down, as I always do, yesterday. I was pretty confident I had, cause I can remember trapping my finger as I pushed the drawer to close it? I even had a look at the finger knuckle, and it was still a little marked?

I ferreted around in cupboards, shelving and the other drawers, but couldn’t find it yet! I took a moment or two and really had a good ponder over what I could remember of the incident. Then stared blankly out of the window, hoping for inspiration in recalling where I should, could, would, ought or might have put it.

I maintained my sanity, just. The EQ was telling me to forget it, “You’re bound to come across it later, there’s no rush, nobody is going to call to see you, you’ve nowt on order to come today, pull yersen together, make a brew and gerron wiv the blogging!” (My EQ and I, both speak with the same Nottingham accent, you know!) But moments later, the niggling botheration departed, as I had to, to the wet-room for another Porcelain Throne session! Argh!

As I hobbled on my way, caught my toes against the four-pronged metal walking stick and I cursed a smidge.  But no time for sulking, the Throne had to be used! At least all the signs told me so, but No!

I got in and on the Throne and minutes later, I reached for the crossword book. My poor confused-more-than-usual brain was still concerned with where I’d left the flipping hemadynamometer, and a grand total of nil, zilch clues were answered! I think the walnut-like lumps of evacuation material, must have gelled in the gut together like cement, for as hard as the innards and I tried there was moving it along! In some discomfort, I gave up and had a clean and freshening session. Hey,-ho! No bleeding though!

As I was leaving the wet room, it dawned on me I may not have turned the taps off properly (♫ It’s not unusual… ♫) and went back in to check them…

Oh dearie me, indeed! There on the shower chair, was the BP machine! Of course, then it all came back to me, Humph! I’d got a tiny cut on the knuckle when I closed the medical drawer, a wee-dram of blood had gone on the camera lens. And got the need for a wee-wee at the same time, and off I went to the wet room, to clean the camera and take a wee-wee. It’s all gin-clear now! I recall it in detail! Plonk-a-Whatta!

I got the ablutions tackled. And compared to yesterday, it was a great deal betterer! The dropsies were a lot worse mind, but no shaving cuts and medicalisationing went just fine.

The photo on the right is a bit of a mystery! It looks to me, like it was taken in the front room or kitchen, not the wet room? (All a part of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Lucifer, mission, “We must annoy, scare and piss-off the energumenist Inchcock, at all costs!’ mission?”

Then, off to get the much-belated sphygmomanometerisationing readings were done. The SYS was down ten points the Dia 12 points, and the Pulse down 6 points. 

Great readings this morning. Or is it afternoon now? Hahhaha!

I then got around to drying off, a bit of burlesque ensued, I’m afraid, here. 

I knocked so many items off of the floor cabinet with the first waft of the towel around my back! What a mess I did make! I spent ages getting in back into the same disorder it was all in before my Towel-Attack!

Got the new bigger Enoxaprin 100ml filled hypodermic, and it was soon injected and all done. A longer needle on these ones, but a piece of cake to inject. (That reminds me, I hope Iceland have some more of the apple pies in stock) for Friday, Haha!

I got the kettle on, and realised I’d been drinking tea on and off all morning? Why? ‘No idea!’ Fair enuf!

I got some vegetables prepped and into the crock-pot for later. Red onions, leeks and I can add a tin of peas later. 

Then I remembered I have the mushrooms in the fridge, so went to fetch them to, wash, slice and get them in the pot with the other veggies.

Opened the fridge door, and there the mushrooms weren’t! I had a dig around in the fridge, but nope, they were AWOL? I looked just about everywhere for them, silly places as well, without any luck.  I’ve bamboozled myself now! Twittle-Prone-Pillock!

I took three photographs of the view from the kitchen’s thick-framed, designed by someone who hates old people and photographers. Are impossible to get to for cleaning, without risking life & limb, climbing up the stepladders and down again. That’s obviously, only if you don’t fall off of steps, due to old age, Rheumatoid Arthur Itis, Cramps, Dizzy Dennis, Shuddering Shoulder-Shirley, Diabetes Insipidus, collapsing, Vertigo,  Saccades Sandra, Nicodemus’s neurotransmitter failure, or you get an involuntary Stroke affected right leg’s Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routine kick-off, and topple you off the ladder, and break your neck..Where was I? Oh, yes, the photos!

I took the first picture in Auto mode, the second in Landscape, the last one was taken using the Aperture Priority setting. Do you think one of them, is better than the other two? Thank you. 

Oh, ‘ecky thump! A triple ailment onslaught nearly had me over! Shaking Shaun, Saccades, and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley amalgamated to put the wind up me! They did a good job, too. This put end to any computerising, and I got the nosh sorted straight away; because I feared a bad spell coming.

The concentration and focus failed, and I had to do my best to concentrate. I got my meal served up alright. But what a mess I was leaving in the kitchen. Got down to eat the repast, no taste rating, because I felt only half-with it. I didn’t eat it all.

I managed to do the pot washing, amidst a messy maze of cooking residues, that my mind didn’t seem to want to know anything about? (I now know I didn’t take any medications).

I can’t even recall getting down in the recliner? But woke up later, with a persistent panicky niggle, that I’d left the tap running? I stupidly got up and went to check, without the stick… the mind full of ackamarackus.

As I was going through the kitchenette door, a sudden short sharp (catching me by surprise) involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance had me over, landing against the counters doors, arm outstretched to ease the inevitable effects of the tumble. (Photoed later)

I remember the fall and collision as my overweight body banged into the cupboard handle and sliding down to make contact with the floor! But nothing else until I woke up to find myself half-in-out of the c1968 recliner?

As endings to a day go, I could have done without this one. Hahaha!