Monday 20th April 2020
Hungarian: 2020. április 20., hétfő
From approximately midnight, I had Thought Storms aplenty. Broken by a precious few nod-offs, they were only a few minutes long, the instant I jumped awake, it was as if I had been searching in my slumber, for worries, concerns, and fears, building them up for when I woke, and the soul-destroying Brain-Storming recommenced!
04:30hrs: I woke for the umpteenth time, and all signs of mental aggravation had gone. I was no longer bedevilled! Not knowing why this suddenly occurred was a mystery, but of no interest to me, I was just so pleased that they had. In fact, it put little life into me as I cheered-up.
Getting out of the second-hand, £300, c1968, not-working-broken-down, most cringeworthily sickening beige-coloured, rickety recliner, has not been done with such ease for many a month. I should have known better than to let myself get carried away! Good fortune, for me, is transmundane.
As I gained some semi-balance and was reaching for the four-pronged walking stick, and Dizzy Dennis had a go at me. (He’s not attacked me so ferociously for a while, but he made up for it this time!) I floundered and fortuitously fell back in the chair, via hitting my bum and piles on the way down against the arm. By ‘ecky-thump, I felt that! It took me a few minutes to gather myself, get over the shock, and then I tried (successfully) again to get up on my plates (feet).
Off to the kitchen, a little slower than usual, cause I didn’t trust Dizzy Dennis an iota. He’s a most cunning ailment. He’s on a par with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters as top-dogs in the catching me out at the most optimum, dangerous timing, to cause me the greatest bother! The Swine!
I got the updating finished for the Sunday post and sent off. Nicodemus was particularly kind to me this morning. Then got the link Emailed. On to TFZer Facebooking, I always enjoy that. Spent an hour or three on it. Next, on the WordPress Reader section. Some great reads and photographs on there!
I had a quick check on the latest sad news from the virus.
The landline burst into sound and flashed. I thought it might be the Phlebotomy Nurse calling to say she would be in tomorrow and give me the time scale. It was Sister Jane calling, bless her.
During the socially-distanced chinwag, she told me to write clearly. I mentioned the problems that are stopping me doing so. She suggested I have plenty of time on my hands, and I should learn shorthand. Hehe!
She and Pete are waiting for their free food parcel to arrive. Jane is very disappointed with the last one. They gave her amongst the many freebies, instant coffee, they use filter coffee, mentioning with a smiling voice; ‘Of course, you don’t get a free parcel do you’ (Muffled laugh, suspiciously heard!).
She mentioned that she had been doing some cleaning. Pointing out she realises I don’t, and I should get more exercise done. After the conversation, I felt about as much use as a chocolate teapot. Hahaha!
The doorbell chimed, and I found a pot of butter on the carpet outside. Obviously the work of Angel Jenny again. Bless her cotton socks!
Some tip-tapping noises were keeping me company from somewhere, as I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and then made a start on this blog.
Within a few hours, I’d got as far as here, and the need for CorelDraw graphicalisationing grew more urgent, as I realised I was out of page-top, Thoughts and Day graphics all together! So, with the tap-tapping now accompanied by some clump-banging, I visited CorelDraw ad started what turned out be a marathon session. But only managed two of the six graphics I needed to do. Humph!
I went to make a brew of Glengettie and pictured a man and his dog.
The intercom rang forth, it was the Iceland delivery. It’ll or nothing innit? Haha!
I put a can of plonk in the hallway for the driver. He was very chuffed! Which pleased me, too.
I made a start on the problematic, complicated and time-consuming task of getting the stuff in the cupboards fridge and freezer.
The doorbells chimed out again. I was a little miffed at being disturbed in the middle of mess sorting out the groceries; but thought it might be the other pair of trousers they have not delivered yet, so my spirits raised just a tad.
It was Josie returning the tray and things from the nosh. She said she enjoyed it and was, at last, isolating herself. Both made me feel good for her.
Back in the kitchen, and crammed the stuff, after reorganising the things a little. Plenty of nosh in now. Bleach might be a problem, but not yet, I’ve now got a bottle and a half left, so things are not anywhere near desperate.
I got the oven warming up. Then pondered on what to have for the nosh, my choices were multitudinous. Hahaha!
I thought I’d have some of the oddly called ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’ from Iceland, chips. This will mean more room in the freezer. Some cooked meat of some sort; or sausages will make a little room in the fridge for me.
It really is jam-packed in there now.
I nipped to have a wash, nothing serious, like an ablutions session, mind.
Crumps and botherations! I knocked the clock off of the toilet top, and guess where it fell?
I assume you’ve guessed right. Straight down into the water in the water in the WC. Grrr! So very-most annoying!
I got the chips in the oven and sorted out the nosh ingredients available to use. Then I made a start on one of the most flavourful noshes of the year so far! Inspired, I was. Mind you, I kept changing my mind of what meat to have, ending up with one of the turkey sausages.
A wholemeal cob, a bottle of spring water, a terribly crumbly tasteless apple (One bite was enough to convince me to bin it!), and a Skinny Bar nougat (Tasty) were the extras.
The main plateful was the best bit. ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’ I seasoned with black pepper and vinegar, the Netherlands-grown Piccalo tomatoes were fantastic considering how out of season they were, sea-salted. I used some of the frozen petit pois for the first time and added some demerara sugar. I was not too impressed with the peas, but everything else on the plate went down fine and flavoursome. A rating of 9.26/10!
I was so impressed with my effort, I took shots of it from different angles on the tray. Did you notice the last picture had something added for an extra treat? Hahaha!
I ate it all up (Well, not the crap apple) masticating so slowly and savouring it. Apart from the fruit being thrown away, I ate and enjoyed the lot. It was about the time I made a decent meal!
Into the kitchen to do the washing up. I spotted two youths on the bottom field, a skateboarder and a cyclist, so my hackles-lifted. I’m not sure if they were rolling spliffs, cigarettes, or taking crack, but I took this decentish shot of them. When I viewed it on the camera, I realised the Saccades Sandra as playing and jumping about my focussing, shame! I used this shot as a background and made a Thoughts graphic in the morning.
I was determined to get some sleep tonight. (Huh!)
Took the medications, and as I got settled into the £300, second-hand recliner, I soon realised I needed to use my hands to feel my way safely into the seat. (Luckily, Nicodemus’s Neortramsmitters’, and Shaking Shaun didn’t visit me st the time) Saccades Sandra was bad tonight, and I could not use the ploy of watching TV to help me get to sleep. Getting the focus right, too bothersome and headache encouraging. Then Toothache Tim kicked off. This was not going to be a peaceful night, methought. Sadly, I was right! I eventually got myself into a semi-comfortable position. Pulled the woolly hat over my eyes, and prayed that the Thought-Storms would not start.
The landline phone rang and flashed. I fumbled to get my spec’s on and get to the phone in time. It was my new Phlebotomy nurse. She will be calling in the morning between 0800hrs and 12:00hrs, to take the Warfarin Blood for testing. I thanked her, and returned to the chair, noticing that Saccades had eased off, and I could focus easier again. Which was good!
For some unknown, but pleasant reason, the Thought-Storms did not arrive. Which, on the face of it, was magnificently encouraging thing.
But the IBON (Inchcocks-Bundle-of-Nerves), anxiety and agitation attacks started the moment I got back down in the recliner! I really cannot recall how many times I struggled up, to go and check on something, taps (faucets) lights, oven, wet room sink, etc. over the next few hours. By the time I dropped of, the physical efforts and mental fatigue helped me nod-off.
At least I got a few hours in. Hey-Ho!
03:15hrs: I woke up, with the theme tune, “Life, is the name of the game, and I wanna play the game with you” ringing in my head? 
I shall not go into too much detail of the terrible, trying, tantamount to agony-ridden evacuation. But Constipation Conrad had the upper-hand in the battle. I was on the Throne for about 20-minutes. The crossword book as tackled. Blood flowed. And all with the one line of the ‘the Generation Game’ milling about in my head. Hehe! 
seemed to be working okay. 
Then, carrying the tea into the junk room, I dropped the mug! I was so low in spirits, it didn’t seem to bother me much. I just cleaned up the mess, thinking how lucky I was in not breaking the cup.
Much CorelDrawing, making graphics for the blog tomorrow. 
at me as if I’m an idiot. 
I got the nosh sorted out. Chicken breast, and tried the weirdly named Iceland fries, branded as ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’. They were okay. The chicken breasts were a bit rubbery. Some seaweed crispies and an apple on the side on another plate. Two mini-Vienesse lemon cakes. No, that’s what they are called. I went to look at the part empty box. Lemon Whirls. A can of the delightfully tangy Clementine drink, too.
02:10hrs: I woke with two voices talking to me, both apparently, mine? One said “Sod-it, go back to sleep, soddum all!” the naughty me. The other, obviously a more conscientious me, said, “Don’t mess about, it takes you that long to get anything done nowadays, here is your chance to get caught up on your CorelDrawing, come on, gerrup!” 
I made the comments on WordPress and then went on the Reader Section. 
But this list above is not enough to get a food parcel. I’ll see if I can catch something else to add to these and try again. 
I went to make a start on prepping for the meal later. I got some canned potatoes in the saucepan, (Took them out of the can first, mind) and added some hoisin sauce and hickory.
I emptied the beef in onion into the pan with the potatoes. Unfortunately, Nocodemus’s nerve ends failed while I was pouring in the hickory, the whole lot tipped into the saucepan! I spent the next hour or so, keeping nipping in to extract some gravy and add boiling water, to weaken the juice. Boy, it was intense! Hehe! Another mess to clear up. Tsk! 
So I got the nosh sorted out. I had overdone it with spilling the hickory into the stew. I and to remove a lot of gravy and weaken it, before serving it up. But it was worth the effort, it tasted most delightful! The flavour rating was a worthy 8/10. 
Sleep had decided it would not return again, I’d upset it I think with keeping getting up. 
03:30hrs: I came back to imitation life, with my body sat on, as opposed to laying on the £300, second-hand, sickeningly beige-coloured rickety recliner, that my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete broke when he was flat raiding and stealing my valuables while I was in the hospital. (I must remember to ask him for them back, but I might as well talk to the wall) My feet rested on the serving tray on the floor. Crumbs and bits of bread were stuck to my feet, trapped in the folds of my pharaonically-sized stomach folds, and I even fund some in my right ear-hole! What the deuce had I been doing overnight? What a moyshe kapoyer I am! 
I had a look up at the latest figures for the pandemic on Google. They are here on the right-hand side. They make bleak reading. 
being able to get this worked out. I worked my way through the fear, and at one time, in Tesco in Duckworth Square in Derby, where I was cashing up 24 tills, and dealing with the Green Shield Stamps issue, without a problem. Then the stroke arrived, and since then, I have been struggling back with the phobia! Humph!
♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the pressed door buzzers. Aha! It was an Amazon delivery. I now have stocks of the wonderful Gengettie and Thompsons Punjana tea, Marmite individual pots, pots of porridge, and the bitter-tasty San Benedetto Clementine juice, to last me hopefully all through the rest of the lockdown (I hope). 
Got the Clobetasone Butyrate cream, and went to the wet room to clean up Little Inchies fungal lesion and applied the cream (I usually do this in the WC room, cause my screams of agony cannot be heard and disturb my neighbours with the door shut). This is the second most painful of my medicalisationing sessions.
Of course, it did nothing to help me get to sleep! I carefully made my way back to the imagined grinning at me now, recliner. I put the TV on, and to my greatest pleasure, Red Dwarf was just starting! Then I found out another episode was following. No problem with staying awake tonight. Old seen-before ones, of course, but I so enjoyed watching them. 
04:00hrs (The latest getting up time for months): I stirred and waited for the brain to catch me up. Which it failed to do in time apparently. Cause as I began to manipulate my grossly overweight-stomached body from the recliner, ‘Thud-thud’, I ended up on my knees! Fell off of the c1968, rickety recliner, knocking the swivel chair over to the cabinet as I did so. Which sent the nibble pots off of the arm and rolling all over the floor. 
When I got in the kitchen, I spotted the moon was out again. But, being so much later than yesterday, it was more distant and further to my left. 
My first job was to make up the template for today’s blog, which took a long time. Thanks to Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters going off and on-line at will. Got it done, and checked online for the virus figures. Not very good. 
But I still felt in a perky mood! I dried off and got dressed, all bar the socks, and went to get the handwashing done, wrung and hung. 
I got the black bags sorted, replaced the bags in the waste-baskets (4), and took the full ones to the waste chute. 
There are plenty of aircraft/jets out today. How do they keep to social-spacing in them, then? 
Back up to my flat, didn’t anyone out in the building at all going either way. It felt so eerie, and reminded me of my recurrent dream of being chased and shot at in a crumbling building, by gangs of unpleasant persons.
outside. 
I ended up making Halloumi cheese sticks and bacon in the same oven tray. I made up bacon sandwiches, caramelised chutney, an apple and some lemon Vienna cakes. And a can of the delightfully tangy Clementine juice. 
00:35hrs: I felt overjoyed, satiated, contented, proud, confident, pleased, and so happy, I thought I was going to burst! Then I woke up! Tsk! The dream I was having is best not gone into in detail. Suffice to say, I was young, in the company of certain young ladies I knew, way back in the 1960s and had got a sweat on! Nuff Said! The disappointment on realising it was not real, was shattering to my confidence and morale! 
As per usual it started with my just getting there in time, but things needed some input from me to get moving… “Eurgh! Argh! Oooh! I got things flowing, and it did the stopping again part-way, and needing even more painful pushing to finish it off. 
Got on the computer and got the updating finished for the Monday post. And with little hassle from Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley or Dizzy Dennis! So I got the job done in a reasonable time. Posted it off and sent Emails. 
I make two more waste black-bags up, and took them with the others to the chute and deposited them all down the shaft. No signs of anyone about. 
Well, off to the wet room, to do the ablutions and have another fight with the sock-glide. 
The latest UK Coronavirus update looked bleak. There is a larger number in Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire. Oh, dear!
One piece of mail was a load of can-we-sell-you bumph, the other confirmation of my rent being paid at the new increased rate. 
Also, as well as, I took something of a rarity today; a wee-wee! But it as a good one, of the TTSLTATO (Torrential-Throughout-Stopped-Like-Turning -A-Tap-Off) mode.
Finished of this blog up to here, but let the beans burn and chips over-cooked! Humph! But this did not stop the pleasure in the deglutition of the meal. The pork knuckle was so delicious tasting! The beans seasoned just right! The chips were crispy! And the mini-tomatoes, donated by a kind lady resident tomatoes were excellent! The Jenny-supplied apple rounded off a treat of a feast. Flavour-rating: 9.25/10!
Feeling much better now, life was returning to the brain, and physically I was doing well. Mmm, apart from the Neurotransmitters failing a few times, I was lucky not to drop the tea-caddy, then the kettle. This is going to be a problem when I start typing on the computer. But no complaints, qualms or expostulations from me. After yesterdays horrendous events, I just appreciated being here, and the absence of so many ‘usual’ ailments. Yee-ha! 
I went to move the tomato-slicer from the tea-brewing area, and soon found how bad Nicodemus-neurotransmitter was today, and the slicer slipped from my grasp. I automatically and foolishly made a grasp for it to stop it hitting the deck. I caught it. The serrated edges of the blades drew blood. A good job I have a stock of plasters in the medical drawer, Tsk! Klutz!
I added some bits to Pinterest, then spend an age on the TFZer Facebooking. But I enjoyed it. Mr Fries Virgin Media started and stayed playing up again. Spitworthy-Splurging-Sparrowhawks! Then went to make another brew of tea, gingerly, carefully and cautiously I might add. (Ha-ha!) 
Phlebotomy nurse vampire, the super-beautiful and highly desirable Christina arrived, a little earlier than expected. So, I might be able to catch the 10:30hrs bus to go and get some saucepans to replace those I’ve burned! Haha! She took the blood in her usual professional way, no bleeding from the vein, as usual (Oh she is good, and pulchritudinously, alluring, angelic, appealing, beauteous, charming, bewitching, and gorgeously pretty with it). She warned me of the oh, so cold weather outside. If only I was fifty-odd years younger, fitter, had hair, no ailments… Dream on Inchcock! Hahaha! Christina departed, sadly in her usual rush, bless her.
Caught the bus with about twelve other tenants, who all got off in Sherwood. I decided in route, to go to Sainsbury’s in Daybrook to look for saucepans and get some nosh in. As I got off of the bus, Dizzy Dennis came on, but not badly, but it slowed me up and did my concentration no good. A few hazy bits in my memory of the visit. I do remember getting a cling-film wrapped set of three saucepans, all ready-made up (handles and lids not loose). Which was glad-making for me. It was the last on the shelves, too! I recall struggling to get around carrying it and coping with the walker-guide and getting things off of the shelves to buy.
I spent £18.60 in total, paid at the self-serve tills. Then, as I was going for the bus home, it dawned on me, I had not got the saucepans! I stopped near the exit doors and checked the receipt… no, I hadn’t paid for them anyway! What I had done with them remains a mystery. 
Over the next few hours, I took these pictures on the right of the page, of the sky from the unwanted, unneeded, unpopular, light and view-blocking, unable to get at to clean, photographers nightmare kitchen window.
The things that sometimes permeate through and hassle my brain; I don’t mean the usual brain-storms, but these odd moments of pointless reflections, can be entertaining, but not until after they’ve been tackled or considered.
The nosh was prepared and served up. Chicken and vine tomato Dagwood-Style sarnies, new potatoes, mushrooms, garden peas and beetroot. A lemon curd yoghourt and drink of orange cordial flavoured spring water for afters. I ate the whole lot of it! Not a scrap left on the plate! 
02:20hrs: As I came back to artificial life, from my nightmare filled sleep, I could clearly hear what I thought was a steam press. Somehow I thought I was still out of it and dreaming, cause the dream was about me being stuck in a giant steam press, with people fighting over who should activate the controls? But it soon became apparent that the noise was the World of Science baffling, ‘Hum’! 
I got the medications sorted, and returned to the main room and got the computer going. The tea had gone cold, so I went to make another, and decided to open the window again, to take a picture of the housing on view outside. Many lights were on in the dwelling, that caught me out for a second. I didn’t realise the time had flown so fast. I went back to the front room, forgetting to make a mug of tea!
But no more toe-stubbing at least! It’s been that long since I needed them, I had to think which of the tubes and tubs were for what ailment. Hahaha! The legs were looking somewhat paler than for a long time, but the Clopodogrel lumps and blotches were still absent, so my full-rate of bad luck hasn’t all come back yet. 
I got the nosh prepped. I’ve still not fully returned to my usual vacuous, yet tortured unrelenting state of mind. It feels all odd not fretting and panicking about anything. The return of Whoopsiedangleplopalising seems to have helped, in a distorted sort of way. 
During this, I had a go at the crossword book. And dropped it when the neurotransmitters failed in the finger-ends. I used the picker-upper to retrieve the book. I creased the pages in doing so. When I got it in my hand, a page with some of my scribble on it was on top. I’d written something about my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete; I think I wrote it when I was in the Acorn home, recovering from the stroke, so out of interest, I read it. It related to Pete visiting me there. And suddenly it dawned… I’d missed his birthday! Well, I can expect him to raid the flat again now! Hehe! He might even arm one of his drones and send it over! I must apologise to the lad. Sorry, Pete, me old mate, catch you later, I hope, Sir. I do feel a right schlemiel! I blame my doing that housework yesterday. (Red-face and shame growing!)
I got the ablutions sorted out. The legs looked mighty fine! Dropsies that I can remember; Shaving Razors (4) Shaving cream. Teeth; toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash bottle. Showering: Showerhead, soap (3), sponge, and back-brush. Then another toe-stubbing against seat raiser. The sock-glide battle; that I had been mastering of late. Left me with a piece of the nail removed on the thumb, and a bruise on the knuckles. Also, I clouted my elbow on the sink edge, getting my trousers on! Now that’s more like me! 
I tended to the handwashing next. A few bits needed doing, and I made a right mess of the kitchen in doing so. I was a smidge irked by having to clean the flipping floor again after doing it yesterday. A few quiet mutterings of a curseful nature were uttered. But overall, I remained in a decent enough mood with myself and the world. 
When I’d got the clothes done, rung and hung, then the beep-beep hook on the coathanger with the jammie-bottoms hanging on it suddenly detached itself! And again water found its way onto the floor I’d just cleaned again! More foul language was silently-voiced, with one word coming out aloud, beginning with F! 
the view from the unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking new kitchen windows. It looked like some rain is on the way. Pretty in a way, though. No, that’s not the word to describe it! More like, erm… I don’t know now, the name just departed my brain and off into the ether? Humph!
Down and along the link-passage to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators), Wardens to us, Holding Cell office. A quick nip in and handed the nibbles out. All done in thirty-seconds, and off into the Winwood Court Social Lounge. Only one person in there, a Nottingham City Homes agent. There was a lot of them arrived today. Including the Nottingham City Homes Generalfeldmarschalless Housing Patch Manager/Catwalk Model, Angela Gould. 
Cox’s apples, not cheap, but they looked okay, a bag of small potatoes, a wholemeal bread thins, and some mushrooms. 
Office in it, to get some Puff Pastry fingers. 
As I took this photo, a young Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist came by, and gave the evil eye and said something, but I could not hear what it was he said. Then casually plodded on up the hill, with his hands in his pockets, not on the handlebars. 
got to Abdul’s and got a packet of the fingers and a pack of jam tarts, £1 each. I met Welsh William at the check out ahead of me. He held the door open for me as I followed him out. We had a chat on my way to the bus stop, and he diverted into the bookies. That’s William in the light blue jacket shooting off for a flutter on the gee-gees, I imagine. 
I carried on to the bus shelter, just as the rain came down heavier. Good timing! Some tenants of the flats, unknown to me by name and I had a chinwag for a while, as the bus came a little late today. But it wasn’t cold with it like it has been these last couple of days. The rain seems to have scattered the local populace.
Back at the flats, I was off the bus last as usual, to avoid banging into anyone or getting hit about. One of them waited to hold the door open for me, bless the gentleman! I did my best to catch up with them for a natter, but they were already at the end of the passage near the swipe door, by the time I entered the corridor. William was leading the charge. 
I got the few things purchased put away and began to formulate what to have for today’s nosh with the new potatoes. Which incidentally were ready to go now, in the crock-pot. So I moved them in with the garden peas in the saucepan. 
However, I still ate the potatoes, not the black bits, mind. 
Not only, but as well as and besides them, the pins (legs) were looking even better. On the verge of normalisticalistion! Well, apart from what I think might be one of the coming and going blotches, due to the Clopidogrel Clive. Even, Varicose-Veins-Victor had calmed down! I think I’ll upgrade my previous exclamation from disconcerting to worrying!
Had I woken up in another world? I clambered out of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner so easily! No dizzies, an almost routine Throne visit? Plus, Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna were giving me no hassle at all. Little-Inchies Fungal Lesion and Harolds Haemorrhoids 
I put some leeks and mushrooms in the small crock-pot, seasoned with onion salt. Then made another mug of tea, and belatedly took the medications. 
Then… Eurgh! 
(Well, I didn’t make it back until I woke up Friday at 01:00hrs. Humph!) 
Back up to the flat, and tackled the mopping up of the filthy kitchen floor. I had to change the water in the bucket twice! 
While the floor dried, I went down to the Hauptsturmfuhreresses Holding Cell and Office, with the last of the Easter treats. They were busy, and my EQ told me I was annoying them. But, pole-dancer and Warden Deana, did pose for me to take a snap of her. 
I went outside on Chestnut Walk, back to the flat, so I could take some photographs of the buildings. Not received any for a while now, with all those days being stuck indoors over the month. Thanks mainly to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for being late with my prescriptions and leaving me without painkillers and beta-blockers for five, no, six days! Just thought I’d mention it! I wonder if the next months will arrive on time? The Medicine Management lady, Leoni, who I complained to, told me to ring them when I get to my last weeks blister-pack and remind them. Very helpful, professional and useful! Especially as she knows I am almost deaf! I wandered-off the plot there, sorry.
I got the meal prepared and served up. Those wicked, unhealthy Frikadellens, done it the oven, and caramelised onion chutney slathered liberally on top of them (Evil-chuckle), garden peas, much-overcooked but still tasty leeks, a sliced black Natoori tomato, and four mushrooms done with balsamic vinegar, and a few mini new potatoes. With a luxurious lemon-curd yoghourt for afters, with a bottle of fresh orange juice! Bu gum, I relished that! Flavour rating of 9/10 given! But, I must resist the temptation to have Frikadellens again for a few months, cause despite the fantastic taste, they are really not healthy at all! 
As I fought my way out of the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, and made way, hobblingly and hanging onto the walking stick, to the hall. I still managed to give myself a sickeningly-sharp toe-stubbing against the Ottoman! I found the smoke alarm going off on the kitchen ceiling. There was a recorded message, that was the squeaking, whiny noise I heard I assumed. It repeated a few time before stopping. I caught a few words of the recording, ‘No action is needed’, I hope. So, I reckon it was an alarm test. Indeed, no smoke or fire around anyway.