Wednesday 29th January 2020
Frisian: Woansdei 29 Jannewaris 2020
23:52hrs: I transformed into semi-life status, and responded to the need for a wee-wee hastily, for it was an urgent need! Raising my wobbly, over-stomached body-mass from the second-hand, £300 recliner and taking the stick and few paces to the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with ease. I had an SFDBFF (Started-Firm-Determined-But-Faded-Fast) style evacuation. No demands for a Porcelain Throne came?
I got to the kitchen, cleaned and sanitised the bucket. Took the medications, and made a brew of Glengettie tea, to ease my brain hopefully, into some sort of mental action. It seemed to work! For after a good gulp of the deep-amber fluid, I remembered that the food delivery was coming early, twixt 07:00 > 08:00hrs. I decided to make sure I got the ablutions done sooner than usual as well! Then, as I hobbled carefully back to the computer dump room, I recalled that today was the Bank Manager’s visit appointment!
As I settled and got the computer on to update the blog, I noted how well things were going this morning, up to now anyway. The attentions of Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, and even Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun were all minimal! Only Saccades-Sandra and a few tremors and shakes from the peripheral neuralgia arm and shoulder were of any real worry-worthiness. Even the toothache seemed less painful? That’s something else; when I go to see the bank manageress, I must call at the dentists to make an appointment.
I felt almost semi-contented as booted up the computer. It didn’t last for much longer! First, I realised that the right-hand fingers Neurotransmitter nerves were bad, and knew this would mean difficulties in typing. But before I got a chance to find out properly, the famously pathetic and unreliable Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, let me down again!
I got some potatoes and mushroom in the slow-cooker for later. Just seasoned with salt this time. Ah, the internet was back on!
I struggled on with the blogging update. Which was one of the easiest for months, as I was stuck-indoors again yesterday, so only a few photographs to sort out, plus, I’d stayed up later than usual, so it was virtually finished when I started it – Does that make sense? Anyway, it kept going off so often, and I had to just press on until it returned on its own. What a palava! But I did get it finished and posted off, hours after starting it, though!
I needed to make a template for this post. The CorelDrawing bit was fine, but getting the template made up on WordPress was a grind-and-a-half with the internet failing so often, for periods of a minute, three minutes back on, and off again… Arghh!
I went on the TFZer Facebooking, that was a bind too. Thanks to Mr ‘I don’t-know-what-I’m-doing, but still, I get paid a fortune’ So I’m not bothered, Fries! Swine! Mafia minded bully and incompetent, mob-backed merchant! Probably not true, but how else does such an arrogant, unskilled pillock like that, keep his job?
I made a start on this blog but gave up. Too much like hard-work, thanks, Mr Fries! The farcical Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet came last month to do some upgrading, that made things worse than before. They are coming again on Feb 6th to try again. Phwert!
I put the handwashing in soak and went to get 
the stand-up ablutionalisationing done. Apart from around five shaving cuts, and about four dropsies, all went well. Even the Sock-Glide battle (I think I’m mastering the thing now!) Smug-Mode-Adopted!
Got smelly with sprays, dressed and went to get the handwashing. All done, rung and hung. That Amazon long sleeve t-shirt that was chocolate brown when I bought it, turned to green on the first wash, and is now a sort of olive-dark blue colour, Tsk!, has still got that stain on the front. I must have spilt some bleach on it. Humph!
So, no toe stubbings, no Dizzy Dennis’, Shaking Shaun was still about, but not so interested in me as he was earlier.
Still, there are no Porcelain Throne attentions called for? Mmm?
I went to the kitchen and decided to take a couple of photographicalisations from the unwanted, disliked, anti-photographer, and deaf people designed with wide ledges to stop me seeing what is below and taking a snap. Or, see if any emergency vehicles are on-site, due to me not hearing the Fire Alarm.
The sun kept trying to come out but went in and hid when it came to my picturing the view. Coming out the moment I’d put the camera away! Huh!
I sorted the black bags and took them to the waste chute. Then returnedReadies, black bags down to chute. Back to the flat, and dithered about, convinced that something had not been done yet. A general feeling of anaemia reigned.
It took me a long while trying to sort out what it was that was niggling at me. And then I didn’t find it! I had the Bank paperwork, card, bus-pass, hearing aids in the lug-holes, the right glasses on the head, alert bracelets on the wrists, Warfarin card in pocket, money, sourdough bread for the ILCs, medications taken, Calendar checked for appointment time at the bank (In fact they sent me text reminding me of the 10:00hr attendance and punctuality needed – Read later, a farce!), crossword book in the trolley… Oh, what the heck is it?
But I had to accept defeat. Wrapped up warmly, and then the farcical double-checking started. To reassure myself and verifying that all in the apartment was left safely.
Out to ask Deana if the kitchen volunteers wanted the new extra-large crock-pot or not. No message has been sent back from anyone who had been received when I offered yesterday morning. I also had a treat for them, of the Polish sliced sourdough bread. They love it, and I love being able to treat them when I order anything from Ocado, who, as far as I know, is the only place that sells it. A little thank you.
I departed, still feeling uneasy, thinking about whatever it was I thought had not been done or taken with me. Humph!
When I got in the lift, I found a damp t-shit on the deck in the cage. Obviously, some poor soul had dropped it when returning from the laundry room. So, I pucked it up and shook off the bits from the floor attached to it, and hung it on the handrail. I hope they find it later. Just my sort of antics to get up to!
When I got to the Winwood Heights Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Wardens and Lap-Top Dancers Interrogation Office, but no one answers my knock.
So I went to the big social lounge and had a go at my crossword book for a bit. I got involved in the puzzle and nearly forgot the time, I had to rush a little to get to Winchester Courts lobby. Where some tenants were waiting in the warmth for the bus. I handed out some nibbles, and we nattered and laughed a little, as I accepted the put-downs and touches of sarcasm in good spirit.
A big crowd at the shelter this morning. Angela & Roy, Penny, Shirley, Mary, Margaret, Doris, Louie, Welsh William, the snotty bloke from Woodthorpe Court, and others. Note how I remembered so many names there? Smug Mode adopted.
I good chinwag with Margaret on the few bus-stops down Winchester Street, where I dropped off the bus with Angela and Roy. We all went into the bank. Angie and Roy got served first, and I waited my turn. The appointment time passed by. No signs of anyone interested in me. Angie and Roy may have had a query of some sort because they were escorted into the office where my meeting was supposed to have been.
I kept poddling about the place with the trolley-walker, to keep the knees from stiffening, for fifteen minutes or so. When the pair came out of the office and passed me on the way out, Angela said she was sorry for messing up my appointment and keeping me waiting, bless her. I replied, “Thank you, it just shows how lucky my life is!” She did laugh!
The Local Banker, Washeeda Hashmi, came to collect me. My EQ saw pound-signs on legs! Which proved to be right! As we walked to the office, she apologised for keeping me waiting. With a broad grin, I answered; Yes, I suppose they have bigger assets and investments than me?” She smiled, cocked her head to one side and said, “Well, yes” and her grin broadened. Ah, a sense of humour, I liked that!
First, the lady was advised by me of my medical situation, and I started by asking her about the second account, asking why the interest had been cut by 50%. I received what sounded like gobbledegook and ended up more confused than before I’d asked the question. But, she changed something or other, and the interest was, all 1.5%, was restored, but in a new different account? High finance, not my easiest of topics for me to get a grip on!
Then the sales pitch came. Did I want to increase my cover in the event of losing my money? How much do I pay for my current house-contents insurance? I was given her card to call or pop in to see her when the coverage is due to be renewed. Name, tel number, she works Mopn Tue Weds only, I must ring her, she might be able to offer a better deal. Is your funeral arranged yet? ‘Yes!’
Then I inquired about the new cashcard and what is needed to be done. She patiently explained things and even went out with me to the cash-point to ‘Enable’ or was it ‘Actuate’, the card for me. I asked if I could draw some cash, to be sure the card was now operational. “No problem,” she said. But the machine would not accept the card! She looked embarrassed, and I felt baffled! We went back inside, and the card was used at the counter, and it worked! Phew!
I thanked her and made my way out onto Mansfield Road, nonplussed, foggier-headed, and somewhat more perplexed than I did when I entered the bank.
Up the hill to the bus stop. Things worked out well timing-wise, two-minutes later, the L9 to Arnold arrived.
I had another bash at the crosswording en route. I got off on Front Street, right near the Asda store, and went in to have a look at their slow cookers on offer. I managed to avoid the dangerously driven mobility scooters and got into the shop. They had a range of small crock-pots on sale.
From which of course, making my mind up which one to buy, took a lengthy spell of ditherisationing. I ended up selecting the smallest on offer. Only £14, 1.5L size. They had several 1.8L ones that were even cheaper to buy. But this smaller one will suit my needs, I hope, anyway.
Now, I was struggling a bit in getting around the store with the box and the three-wheel-walker-guide. I limped around and ended up at the check-out with; The crock-pot, pack on mini-Swiss rolls, some potatoes, and chopped leeks. Paid the helpful gal on the till, who also helped me load the bag, and even put it on the trolley handle for me. Thank you, petal!
Now, with the two bags on the walker-guide, one with the cooker in it, I poddled unsteadily out onto Front Street. The alarm went off as I left the store through the tag recognisers, from the cooker most likely. But no one came to check on me. It seemed eerily free of cyclists, pedestrians, beggars, and mobility scooters out there!
I pondered over my next move. There were about twenty-five minutes before the bus was due. So, I went down and over the road, to have a look in the Fultons Foods shop, to get some garden peas with the ring-pull openers if they had any in. I ambled stumblingly (the balancing of the bags was not easy, with the one with the cooker in it sticking out and catching things. Tsk!) to the crossing, and over the road to the shop. I came out with three for-a-pound tins of peas, Hills Shorties biscuits, and two pots of lemon cheesecakes.
I made my way to the bus stop, and Mary was sat sitting there in the shelter. There was still ten-minutes or so until the bus was due. We had a good nattering session, during which Mary showed an interest in having the gigantic slow-cooker. Well, being as no one had let me know it the Winwood Court kitchen could use it, I said she could have it.
No crosswording on the route back to the flats. There was no room with the two bags and trolley bag full, it took all my concentration to stop the useless brakes-applied guide from shooting off each the bus went around a corner or braked sharply. But Mary and I managed a tete-e-tete, though.
We got back to Winwood Heights, and I dropped the sourdough bread off in the warden’s office. No mention of the giant-crock-pot being needed, so I dropped off the loaf and told Mary she could have it straight away. We ambled to Woodthorpe Court and up in the lift, Maty getting off on the first floor, and saying she would be up for the cooker soon. No problem, I say’s, and I carried on up to the twelfth floor and got inside.
I had a bit of bother getting the bags in, but did it okay. Emptied out the trolley and carriers, and was setting up the new cooker, as Mary arrived. She took the cooker, asked how much, I said ‘Nowt’, she thanked me and shot off with it.
I put the fodder away. Then got the new pot set-up next to the other semi-new biggerer one.
Which, of course, meant I now have to find room to put all the stuff I had to move away off of the counter-top, to avoid them being near the heat of the crock-pots when in use!
I’ll have to keep an eye on the control settings being used. They are different from each other. Fingers crossed I don’t cock it up!
I got the pots and mushrooms out of the larger crock-pot and made up the evenings meal. Pork pie meat, a Natoora black Iberico tomato, beetroot, garden peas, chestnut mushrooms, new potatoes and a sliced Cox’s apple. A lemon curd yoghourt and drink of fresh orange juice with it. Rated at 8.2/10 for flavour. Even the tomatoes, which were meaty tasting, although they were Spanish. I enjoyed that!
The washing up was done. Cleaning the large slow-cooker took longer than everything else put together! Glad I’ve got the new smaller one for tomorrow, at last.
I put the computer on to add to the calendar, and the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet was working okay?
Put the TV on, and after an hour or so of nodding-offs and wakenings, I gave up and turned the telly set off.
Then, the brain-storming began! Fears, worries, past-faults, heebie-jeebies, psychasthenia, and insecurity all flowed and churned inwardly.
It was ages before I hibernated for the evening. Hey-ho!
Where a shock awaited me when I went to make a brew. I thought I’d fill-up the Glengettie tea-bag pot. After a long search, there was none to be found! So I did an Ocado order for some more. I got some Thompsons Punjana as well. 
I tended to the ablutions. Only a couple of dropsies this time. (Razor (2), flannel) It went well overall, and the Sock Glide was tamed!
But the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, was really crap today! Even for them! 
Sunshine, in the form of Nurse Christina, bucked me up as she arrived to take my blood. She let me take her photo, in the balcony, bless her. I wish I’d got a printer now! Humph! 
I came back to life. (Well, that was a bonus to start with, Hehehe!) Felt weary, looked at the clock, which indicated to me that it was 00:25hrs. The cal to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and almost started on its own, a bit of urgent buttock-clenching, helped me get out of the £300 second-hand recliner and to the wet room, barely in time. 
They are to be working again on the upgrading of the service, on Thursday 7th February. Well, last month when they did some work, they left the service more unreliable than it was before! Hey-Ho! 
I set about my self-given tasks. 
back in its box. There were foam sheets etc. that would not go back in, as I expected. But it is now transportable, at least. I felt rather semi-pleased with myself! Smug-Mode-Adopted! 
I g
ot the newest slow-cooker out of its box using the steak-knife. Good job I was in the kitchen at the time, it gave me quick access to the cold-water tap, Germolene and finger-plasters from the medical drawer nearby. Humph! 
The ablutions had to be done, and with rushing now, the risk of an Accifauxpa was high, I kept telling myself not to take risks. (Do I listen?) 
Back to the flat, I got readied and made my way down, though the link-passage, and to the ILC’s Interrogation and Body-Searching Office in Winwood Court. Hehehe! 
I dropped of the bus near the old Palligh de Dance, and walked over the two sets of pelican crossing lights needed, to get to Glasshouse Street. 
I came out of the Poundland shop and decided I had the time to walk along, taking some more photographicalisations. This was taken down Clumber Street, I was getting some rum looks from the Nottinghamians, that indicated their disapproval of my actions. Oh, dear! 
So I took another, zoomed-in this time. 
I poddled along, quietly contented in my own fashion. I even tried to whistle, but the hole left by my last tooth abstraction made it hard work. Which shows how long it is since I decided to whistle blithely! Sad innit!
Other buses needing access had joined the queue by the time I got to the corner. Where it became plain what the problem was, the dreaded roadworks! 
At the top of Queen Street, the view with the sky perfect for photographicalisationing was an amazingly good opportunity for a moody photo to be taken. Thankfully it came out decent enough to use. I checked on the camera screen and spotted another traffic problem. 
Surprisingly, the L9 bus was on time? (Beats me how he did it, brilliant!) I was the sole passenger until two bus stops later. No Winwoodonians were picked up en route, but I got out the crossword book. I got a couple of old clues as well. Swank-Mode-Engaged!
I didn’t meet anyone on the trip through the Winchester link-passage, the New Winwood Social room, the Winwood Foyer, the Woodthorpe court link-passage, and into Woodthorpee’s lift foyer. 
Warmed the garden peas, got two cheesy cobs buttered, sliced an apple, put some mini pork and pickle pies cut in half on the plate. Got down and tucked into the meal, but I’d again overdone it. 
Bloody as well, but far less messy. You can’t win ’em all, Haha! 
As I left to go to the kitchen, the shaking started from the neurotransmitter transmissions failing. At least as of now, this is very often for a short time only. When I got in, I decided to get the handwashing done first thing. Thus giving me more time if needed, when getting Josies Sunday meal prepared in time. 
I got the meal all prepped, and onto the serving trolley. 
I went to make a brew and had to turn on the light in the kitchen. It had suddenly gone so dark, and the rain was starting to fall. I suppose this might mean the cooker is coming later than forecast. 
I made a start on the updating as soon as I’d had made a tasty cuppa of Glennghettie tea, wash and took the medications. 
Got the nosh sorted. The place looked like a battleground by the time I’d got it served up. Dropped saucepan, spilt over bowel, scattered garden peas, blood from cutting the finger, crumbs… Humph! 
Washed the pots and did the handwashing.
Then off to the kitchen, where the ‘Hum’ was distinctly louder. I took the medications and made a brew. Then snapped this shot from the light & view-blocking, finger trapping new window. No moon was showing this morning, and worryingly it was drizzling and windy out there today. Mmm! 
The sock-glide altercation was the most disturbing. I knocked it off of the seat, and it landed on the freshly stubbed on the metal support bar toe! Which left me in pain for the rest of the day. 
I got to the self-serve tills, and the lady put the things through for me, bless her. I was soon out and back on Upper Parliament Street. I tried the camera, and it took this picture first press of the button! It looks like what it was, dark, damp and depressing. Haha! 
I made my way to and down Clumber Street and arrived at the EE shop. But it was not open yet. So I hobbled, balancing the bag on the trolley with aplomb and style, I walked back up to the Victoria Centre (Mall), deciding to go to Tesco, to get some more treats for the Royal Family. And perhaps see if I can get a cheap camera that runs off of standard batteries. I made my way through the centre to Tesco and bought them some seaweed, puff pastry fingers and got myself some liquid soapflakes. Paid the lady, resorted the bags on the trolley, and walked back toward the top entrance. 
The Highnesses seemed happy enough to allow my standing up during the visit. Well, it saved any germs or dirt getting on the chair from my trousers! 
Now, the 40 bus was 25 minutes to wait for. I hobbled down Queen Street to the slab square. I took a snap of the Council House, showing the clock above Little John’s bell. Amazed that the battery let me make the picture, and it came out decent? I’m confused about this, I hope the camera is not going wrong.
brakes. I got off on Winchester Street, a kind chap monitored me getting off, in case any help was needed. 
The walk up to the flats had never been more uncomfortable. Just the feet and Arthur Itis’s knees were bothering me but on a grand scale! Hehe! The mysteries of the camera! The dead battery, according to the message on the screen, it still let me take two more photographs on Chestnut Walk? The colouring was nothing like what it was to the naked eye, though. 
The meal was enjoyable, despite
23:50hrs: I semi woke up. Had a mental battle to regain control of my mind, passed a vast, blasting burst of wind. Combed my hair with a pink lawn rake, and the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Like a young whipper-snapper, I almost bounded out of the recliner, jumped up, and skipped my way to the wet-room without using a stick and singing Wayward Wind aloud and proud… and started to wash my well-toned muscular young, lithe body in a bath of Guinness, and lit my pipe…
Blimey, it took, me over three hours just to get a few Thought graphics done. The concentration is not good at all. Confusion reigning in the brain-box.
I turned as the expected Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something, and flail about dance’, (as Tim Hancock had Christened it, Hehe!) burst into action. I was in the hallway, so avoided going over, with the help of the handily placed close-to-hand walls. You’ve got to laugh! Although Mick was taken aback a bit, he’d not seen me have an unplanned imitation of a cross between the Hokey Cokey and the Twist before.
Then I realised after getting it served up and on the tray, I had the chips in the oven as well! What a plonker! So I got the other dish and put the fries onto that.
Taking off my jammy bottoms, was a little akin to a Bull-in-China-shop! Humph! I knocked the following, although it might have been more, but, I can recall that two cans of body spray, the kitchen towel, my scissors, the Germoloid and the Clobetasone cream, and the crossword book and pen, all tumbled off onto the floor. The pen went down the back of the cabinet, so will probably be found after I have snuffed it. I managed to retrieve the other stuff, much to the annoyance of Anne Gyna and Arthur Itis! Tsk! 
did the teeth, only dropping the brush and toothpaste once each. Then the nasal spray. Moved on to shaving, and the foam can went twice, and the razors repeatedly, so much so, that I decided to do flannel wash first, hoping the Peripheral Neuropathy would have calmed down a bit, and the nerve-end would be working a bit better by then. The flannel went a couple of times out of my grip, as did the carbolic soap. 
got back to shaving, I have to say I felt a bit a Smug and Clever Mode come over me. For the dropsies had reduced tremendously as the nerve-ends were getting the message to the brain at last! I moved up to a Sycophantic-Smarmy-Mode
went to get the handwashing finished. I got it done and wrung, but a problem when I started to get it hung! The flaming hangar that I use for the jammie-bottoms, shattered into pieces! 
Shortly afterwards, the Iceland man cameth. I mentioned the substitutes and he told me, nothing to do with me, you should have an email, sort it with them, not me! I signed for the goods and he shot off like Mr Bolt, only quicker! Haha! It was plain to me, that Iceland was forever letting folk down, and some customers were blaming the delivery men?
nt through from the warmth of Windwood Court into the bitterly cold Woodthorpe, a ladies voice called asking if I was alright, it was Chrissie (I think), with some bad news. Mo in the hospital had passed away. This put me in a right bad frame of mind, and I nearly had a cry for Mo, she was a right character, we all liked her so. 
I decided to get the things ready for the meal later. The first thing was to get the mushrooms in the slow cooker. I added some sea salt and a splash of the Sukang Puti vinegar. This Malaysian made brewed vinegar is so tangy. 
Mmm! 
I reached up into the cupboard above the kettle to get the plastic jar of demerara sugar to add some to the peas and spuds! 
I got the oven warming and when it heated enough, I put some smoked haddock and a battered whiting fillet in and watched over it cooking. I dare not keep an eye one it, after today’s series of mishaps. I carefully got the plate filled with feast-like foods, and when I got around to taking a photographicalisation of it, Shaking Shaun shunted into this Saturday’s shenanigans.
23:00hrs: I woke, almost disappointed in not wanting to use the Porcelain Throne, but a demand for a wee-wee arrived, that forced me to reluctantly for once, remove my bulbous, wobbly-short plump-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner. Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna were both giving me a break. I hobbled to the wet room, and found myself quietly singing on the way?
The release was of a totally new mode, to me. It started so promisingly as well! An FDBFF (Firm-Determined-But-Faded-Fast) style. (Which all the others, so-many, that followed were of the same fashion- I shan’t bother recording them, there were countless, and irritated Little Inchies fungal lesion as well! It’ll save on ink and time. Haha!) 
Then, I olive-oiled the ear-holes. The right one was bleeding for some unknown reason, just a smidge. 
I made a brew and moved the handwashing onto the airer.
Summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived from the innards, and off I trotted to the wet room. The amount evacuated was again ginormous, yet the system coped with it, well almost. There were some unrecognised bits still floating in the water after flushing. What it was, I know not, but it was a little concerning all the same.
I was about to put the camera away after taking the shot of the WC above. But, could I find the lens cover to put back on it? No! 
time its happened this new year, already! 
I went on the WordPress reader. Then went on my beloved TFZer Facebooking site. Taking a lot of time to get the photographs on, with these also needing new albums creating. 
Got the nosh prepped. Beef in the pan with caramelised gravy, rosemary and basil, tomatoes and puree, balsamic vinegar, black beans, carrots, onions, gungo beans and all on the simmer for yonks. 
Then got it served on the tray, took it and sat in the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, and ate it while watching the TV version of Quatermass 2 on a DVD. All six episodes, and without nodding off, well, maybe the odd one. A lemon mousse for afters. I was most delighted with the flavour and gave it a rating of 8/10. 
23:45hrs: Ah, I woke up with the immediate needs of old this morning. Nothing mattered more than getting to the Porcelain Throne in time! So much so, that I nearly fell out of the £300 second-hand recliner, dropped the walking stick, and passed-wind all the way to the wet room, and barely made it in time. The evacuation started of its own accord, but soon needed some painful encouragement from me to complete things. 
But it left the tummy aching a bit. Not surprising, with having gone so long without the pleasure of an evacuation, Hehe! 
Washed and cleared up and back to make the brew! 
As I made a start on this post: Guess What? 
carbolic soap slipped away a few times (5). 
When I started to clean the wet room shower floor after the session, I came across this, whatever it is near the floor drain? 
I was spraying some of the Poundland Store’s eau de toilette for men on my treble-chinned neck, and the top came off, leaving me smelling pungently-strong of the perfume rather! Oh, dearie me! 
I applied the Phorpain Gel, Germaloid cream, Clobetasone cream, Corticosteroid cream, Daktacort lotion, Capsaicin and Clopidogrel ketoconazole. Olive-oiled the ear-holes. Salved the cracked lips. Savlon cream on the injured toe. Got the hearing aids, checked the batteries were working and put them in. Put the correct spectacles on. Then got myself dressed up warmly, got the three-wheel-walker-guide, and took the black bags with me dropping them down the waste chute, en route to the bus stop. (There’s no nipping out quickly when you get old, yer know. Hehe!) I was worn out before I left the flat! 
I popped into the Obergruppenführeresses holding-cell office. Handed some nibbles out, wished the ma great new year and thanked them for being there, and meandered into t the big Social Area room, and sateth me down, and got out the crossword book. Fifteen minutes later, (one answer got), I moved out to the bus stop.
We arrived in the City Centre and parted after getting off of the bus. I meandered into the Poundland Store. The knees made progress slow and painful, but there was no rush. A lot of the shelves were looking a little threadbare, as to be expected at this time of year. I got to the self-serve tills, they were not busy at all. A lady put my things through for me in no time and put them in the carrier bag for me. Thank you, Madam! I left the store and redistributed the goods, so I could cope with them betterer. Putting the more substantial items in the trolley bag, and the lighter in the carrier, to hang it over the handlebars. I’d got in them: Pork Farms pork pies (2), pea snacks, and walnuts. Some screwdrivers with different heads on them (2 packs of 4). A chunky orange Kit-Kat, Orange flavoured chocolate digestives (A weakness, I know!), cashew nuts and a Dettol lemon-scented antiseptic disinfectant spray. 
I split and buttered the cobs, leaving the oven chips to brown off a bit more. Then added the fries to the chopped pork pie and beetroots on the plate. Added the fresh orange juice and lemon yoghourt to the dish. Along with the medications, and got down in the recliner to feast. Flavour-rating, a worthy 8/10!