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– – – Part Two – – –
This morning, I created an Ocado quasi-order,
Spent a few moments execrating Herr Starmer,
Lambasting, cursing, and trying some hexing,
That didn’t work; no news on TV of his dying,
So back to heartfelt detesting & loathing,
He’s so cantankerous, malicious and spiteful,
Hostile, averse, inimical, confoundable,
Not Prime Minister material, but he’s barristerial,
A trained liar, thus he can easily fiddle & embezzle,
Now my hex has failed, should I try alchemical?
I watched Parliament on TV. It looked adumbral,
I got a sense of phoney-baloney, agathokakological,
HMG members scowled across; matters balneal?
Some members grimaced, as if they had sat on a carbuncle,
Some, obviously bored, maybe missing their Zinfandel.
Occasionally, one stood up, to the toilet he’d wamble,
MP returned with cigar ash on his waistcoat, all casual,
Some nodded off, while the speaker soke wibble,
Taunts were made to encourage a squabble,
They woke up some MPs to join in the verbal battle,
One of them dropped his soother & rattle,
Overshouting each other, they continued to prattle…
The screamed words were largely unsubstantiable,
The shaking fists and sneers were not all discernible,
The odd one, Reform UK, I think, was not very subtle
But there are only four of them, so inappreciable,
Kemi’s failed party didn’t say a lot, understandably
After all, their total MPs are only 120, sadly!
Labour MPs outnumber them all, more sadly,
Jeremy Corbyn is setting up a new political party…
with Zarah Sultana, Left Wing, gladly…
Herr Starmer, Labour? He’s more Tory than any Tory!
Who can beat him? Electionally?
Many a voter would like to beat him physically,
For his lies, two-facedness and con-artistry,
On that list, to be fair, you can add me!
I’d love to grab him epiglottally,
For his back-hander taking, initially,
Stealing pensioners’ fuel allowance, that hurt Inchie,
Many decisions he’s taken, enacted, immorally,
Digressing, mind-changing, to save financially…
Not for the voters! But his term as PM of HMG,
On his mission to make his self more money,
More glory, more power, go down in history…
The erk who beat the Tories by becoming a Tory,
Labour’s Core Values? He shows such antipathy,
Remaining in power, claiming political diablerie,
Renationalise railways? Cut the cost of electricity?
He does not have the capacity for honesty,
From his Barrister days, you see?
Getting murderers off virtually scot-free,
He avoids the truth, purposefully…
When there’s a chance of profitability…
For himself, do you agree?
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Four visits to the
Produced only wind.
A lot of it, mind you.
I spelt Haemorrhoids wrong.
Early balcony shots through the glass.
Then the same with the kitchen.
End carpark chevron parkers
stii chevron parking. No rain again,
so no mudslide. Poor birds & squirrels
kept coming for a drink and bath,
but couldn’t get either.
Sherwood Vale.
Citrus Walk in front of the prison.
No, no, block of flats!
Flushing problem on the
third 
visit.
Gave it the best clean that I could manage.
Amazing how the stains hide. Hahaha!
Back to CorelDRAW.
Afternoon cuppa.
I obviously took this shot in error.
Possible as I was putting in or taking
out the SD card.
Community Nurse Rebecca called to tend to Lymphorrhoea Leslie’s leg wounds.
The original leak (on the left) had gone down well. But, Rebecca found a new one coming, and medicated it for me as well. (on the right). She said when the sin goes like mine, all leathery, cold men more are on the way. She will call next week to check on how they are. Bless her.
Sky Photos In, (I hope) in chronological order.
A smidge eerie so early in the afternoon.
Amazed at the new cloud types.
I Took two, thanks to 
not getting the messages to the brain that I want to let go of the ‘shoot’ button from the dying off 
and or, more likely, the brain not responding in a timely fashion; thanks to the attentions of what was Diabetic Dementia, then Cognitive Dementia, changed to Vascular Dementia, and now is 
.
This often buggers-up my plans. It’s doing it more often now, either not letting go of something or letting go of something. Unfortunately, when I’m taking photos and this happens, I frequently fill the SD card to capacity. Then, the problem is often low memory on the computer, and you have to delete them one at a time… This causes me to have to use CCleaner repeatedly, as it consumes a significant amount of memory when deleting large files. But the worst thing this costs me is time. I don’t have much time left anyway, but I want to spend it on my beloved blogging, which is so frustrating!
Then, 
means I forget where I was, what I’d just done, why, and what was going to do in the first place. He’s also a bit of a git every time I write an Ode. I often start typing a word, and just go blank as I’m about to type it. That might be connected to my thinking of a word to use as a follow-up? Or not.
I’ll have to ask Mr Google for a word to describe it. My guess is: Word Blindness, Memory Lapse, or maybe Inchies Syndrome?
Sky Photos taken late on.
Beautiful!
And zoomed in a bit.
Cooking Time…
Result? Not too bad.
I may have overrated this one.
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Have a Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Day
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! I was feeling so slow-witted and tired suddenly. Everything is normal then!
Light-headed. heavy eye-lidded, and with a new (to me) style of viewpoint, I shall call it ‘Soddumall Sunday’, I pressed on with getting the Health Checks sorted… No wee-wee! No call to the Porcelain Throne, no Dizzy Dennis when I stood up from the computer; I’d been on for about six hours, none-stop… and; I genuinely felt I just wasn’t going to get all hot and bothered about anything! 
bruise as well… well, two!
figures had come down.
I poddled out into the balcony and was greeted by the wind and 
I heard the beeping noise when the text came in, but I just could not locate where it was. It had to be close for me to have heard it. I checked all my pockets and got down with the torch to look underneath the Hopewells 1966 broken, with doors hanging off dangerously cabinet, but it had not fallen underneath that.
and 
that was the cause of this. As the day progressed, I saw more and more areas of the carpet mainly, that looked like they had water running along them. Looked in the wet room, junk room and kitchen without any success. So I gave up. 
Into the kitchen to make another brew of tea, Thompson’s Punjana, this time. 
Cutting this short now. Just got to get some sleep; not feeling well at all.
The potatoes looked and tasted okay.
the scab off of the finger. put a plaster on.
looked okay. Been a grind getting it done today, but felt a smidge smug about my struggles and efforts.
ridden!
At last, sleep, peace, escape from the fretting and mental nitpicking and panicking… 
Kiya, I think, woke me up… it was a foggy memory in the morning; nothing scribbled on the notepad, and no recollectionings either?
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0600hrs: I was doing a bit of threshing about when I bounded back into consciousness this morning. But I’d had a bad night of jumping awakes, so was not surprised at this morning’s flapping about in the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, itch-producing, none-working recliner. 
Although it was a bit of a strain to force things out, surprisingly there was plenty of PMD (Post-Micturition-Dribbling)?
Of to get the 
seen to.
I got into the wet room with the togs to put on, and I commenced my morning cleaning-up routine. 
These went smoothly. Of course, I was out of eye drops, and thankfully, very thankfully 
, 
burst into tune. 
came in.
After mutual greetings were shared and Richard got the medications sorted out, he went into one of his Professional-Status! 
I got the Sunday blog finished and posted it to WordPress. Did some Pinteresting. Comments. Then started this template. Herbert above started banging and tapping away. I responded again by tapping on the top of the tall bookcase. But he didn’t do it for long, and within an hour of so, all was quiet again. Nice!
Had a glance out of the balcony from the computer chair, and the fog seemed to be lingering a little. 
phobic about this? And is phobic the right word? Hehehe!
Hello, he’s off again! 
Made a brew of Glengettie tea.
17:45: Thanked the chap and made a start to put the many things where they should go. And some in the spare junk room.
!
Came in. I was watching Heartbeat on the TV. Got the medications sorted and had a little laugh and natter (me mostly, of course). 
The next ‘Heartbeat episode was on, so I got down into the £300, used, second-hand shop-bought nine-years ago, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly Karki-beige coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner, to watch it.
I nodded off on the first set of adverts and woke up as the ending credits were rolling up the screen!
!