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Possibly, just perhaps, well, at least in the last week, this morning was the oddest one yet. For a variety of reasons, which I will no doubt get mixed up and out of order. But I’ll do
my bestest to explain.
04:20hrs: First, I woke up with an unexplainable… well, Zest!
I found the nocturnal pouch of urine to be a lighter colour than of late. An urge for a mug of Glengettie came next, and off to the kitchen, I poddled to get the kettle on. Then, I took a snap
with Kodak-Tim of the morning view and realised it was only 05:00 hrs. I decided to have an early wash and shave, being as I was feeling almost chirpy. (I knew it couldn’t last, so I made the best of it.)
Then I noticed that the kettle was not working. I toyed with the connections and plug for a while, but it did no good. It wouldn’t have it! But on top of the cupboard was a kettle I bought about a year ago. The problem was, how do I get it down from there? I ended up using the long picker-upperer carefully, but I got it done safely enough. However, the base plate was still up there and at the back near the wall. My desire for the tea drove me on.Â
After a little thought, I fetched the 3-step ladder from the junk room. I could only manage two steps, thanks to
, in particular, the back of the knee emitting severe pains. But my determination to get a brew of Glengettie was strong!Â
I managed to reach the plate using the small picker-upperer. Finding that it and the kettle needed a good cleaning up before using it.Â
This is when the stubbing of the toe took place.
Undaunted, I got the dust of and out of everything and the
kettle on the boil.Â
Moments after taking a photo of the Jenny donated china mug on the left, is when I knocked it off of the counter with the dressing gown sleeve. I caught hold of the mug as it bounced off of my overly abundant belly. Thus, spilling some tea on the gown, me and the floor!
My previously rare morning zest was flattening down now, and the idea of making another mug of tea did not appeal to me. I felt a brooding coming on.
I got all the waste bags sorted and placed them near the door.
Then I decided a darn good wash and shave was called for. So, I took off my dressing gown and wobbled along to the wet room. The wobbling was caused by the catheter fitted yesterday, which has a thick, massive, long tube. The release valve tap was so low down it rested on my foot! It was not easy to reach down to empty it, which was my first task
as I got inside the wet room.Â
The favourite
was again in full control of the evacuation. Cleaning up was a heck of a job, and it was difficult with the long catheter on and using the walking stick.
Still, I freshened things up and cleaned my teeth. The bleeding soon stopped. There was a funny incident that I realised about much
later when I got around to uploading the photos. I dropped Kodak-Tim from the dressing gown pocket later, and while making sure nothing had broken, I took the selfie above, catching the image in that shaving mirror, Hahaha!
The shaving ended with a cut count of only two; oddly, one was on the ear lobe? Beats me too!Â
I get the body scrubbed up; it takes longer nowadays. What with the monumental girth I’ve acquired since I’ve become flat-bound, bending down is so difficult and painful. The Cartilage Girls
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don’t help. I suppose on the bright side, if I ever tumble forward, I’ll have a chance of bouncing back up. Hehehe!
Then, I decided to mop the kitchen. I used the Flash speed mop for the job—a mistake that was!
It appeared to look okay afterwards until I walked into the place. The soles of the slippers stuck to the tiles, and I could hear and almost feel them squelching as I walked on the floor.Â
Now, my mood was almost reversed to what it was earlier. I noticed many bits of something very small still stuck on the floor, and a Carer mopped it last
week. So, I had to get the mop and bucket brought into action. Gathering several leg bruises on the way from the walking stick as I mopped one-handed, then
found somewhere to lean again, to bend painfully down to hand wring the mophead. I even got Kodak-Tim out a few times to record my progress. Now, I was
worried about my sanity. But I was pretty happy with this second proper mopping job done.Â
As I went to clean and store the mop and bucket, I realised that I’d not done the morning medicationings for many regions of my story, plump, wobbly body. So I did.
I put on the Acne cream. Then, I applied barrier cream around the fungal lesion and barrier creamed the tops of the inner legs and the ever-growing stomach fold. Then, I Germoloided Harold’s Hemorrhoids. I put on a fresh dressing gown, made a fresh mix of spring water, put the old dressing gown in the laundry bag, and noticed the clock. It was 08:55 hrs.Â
I’d been so concentrated on and frustrated with the Whoopsies, cleaning, and farcical morning that I wondered if the Carer had been and if I’d forgotten about it. I checked the Carer’s log, and there was nothing on it for this morning. At least I didn’t have to worry about that.
Later, Carer Sam arrived. She listened to my tale of the morning’s woe; bless her. Finally, I made a belated start on finishing off yesterday’s blog. I was calming down nicely.


, sod-it! The Google and Firefox thingies went down at the same time on me!
I could do nothing for an hour.
I tried all the usual stuff, but the mouse was working, not the keyboard.
I kept getting messages coming up that meant nothing to me. I was near to dismay.
Then I got Norton Messages telling me a series of numbers were safe; no action was needed! Was Google healing itself?
I gave up and turned off the whole shebang.
I was sitting feeling sorry for myself when the intercom
sounded. It was the delivery of Medical stuff from Vyne. Boy, did it take some sorting out?
Yes, it did. I had many things on my mind and worried about
the computer, too.
I didn’t know what all the things were for, but indeed, they must be connected with, for, or part of the dreaded and disliked
.
They look awfully complicated to me. But, then again, so do women, Putin, arithmetic, Judges, the Conservative Party, and Doreen Dementia.
Ah, I recognised the painkiller jet thingies that the nurses shoot down Little Inchie when they have to put new tubes into him. Oh, they are good! Haha!
When I returned, I turned on the computer with my fingers crossed. Well, I never did. Google was working again. I was nearly too stressed and tired to appreciate it at first, but a semi-imitation joy crept through my brain all the same.
Carer Christopher arrived. I gave him a cold drink and a bar of chocolate. I chatted away, but he missed most of what I was saying as his fingers belted away on his mobile phone. Hehehe!
I pressed on with starting this blog. It is now past 21:00 hrs. What a day! Where did it go? I’ll read this and find out later.
A caregiver is due on the last day, anytime now. So, I think I’ll put the vegan slices in the oven. Well, I’ll put the stove on, and it’s ready to heat up.
I finally had the meal of the day and enjoyed it, although the incident with prepping the potatoes slightly tempered my enjoyment.

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I’d got the instant mash into the bowl with some sea salt, basil and a large knob of No Butter, Butter. Then, I added a packet of grated
Leicester Cheese to the mix. I added some freshly boiled water and was about to set it to give it all a good mixing. Then I noticed some mould on the bits of cheese!Â
I’d discarded the good-dated packet and kept the just-out-of-date packet of cheese! Luckily, the unopened packet was retrieved from the waste bin after I chucked the bowl contents into a bin and re-cleaned the bowl. 
I had to start the potato prepping all over again. Which meant the veg pasties were tastier. I thought the cheesy mashed potatoes were Pareidolianiable. Can you see the chick or rabbit on them? No? It must be me, then. Hahaha!
At last, a photo to be proud of was taken. The blotches were all hidden in the dark night clouds. Is it like the surface of the moon with a volcano erupting? I may ask the Tate Art Gallery if they’d take this one. If not, I can always display house bricks on a wooden palette, 2024 style. I could spill blood on them, break them up for them. I could call it Putin’s Pallette, perhaps? Haha!
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Waste bags.
Morning view.
Zoomed horizon.
Whoopsie!
Templates had to be made. Took me hours and hours!
Ready-made smoked haddock meal tonight.

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05:15hrs: I stumbled out of the bed, which I couldn’t recall getting into, and was on the bottom of the fall bar. I laughed it off.
first. This is when I began to lose what I was talking about.
It was in the same mode as the earlier one. I had a wash and got the medicationalisational needs tended to
little delicate when I lifted the leg or genuflected that knee.Â
getting the mature, expensive nappies on. I mean, Protection Pants on. Haha!
The food order arrived.
No shortage of feed now. Cornish Pastie, Lamb & Beef patties. Turkish beef, potato rostis, potato hash browns, Vegetarian sausages, Surimi chunks, whole milk, spring water, medical plasters (I shan’t be eating these!), cans for treats, and a few pots of baking powder. Oh, and pork pies.
I struggled with blogging all afternoon.Â
on preparing and presenting the meal.
I was still looking. Haha!
I Kodak Tim’d a final horizon shot of the ribbon of unique colours on view from the kitchen.
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At first, I was worried about the urine being so dark, but I realised it must have been the kerfuffle when I fell in the wet room yesterday, so I’ll not fret yet.
The NCC electrician called. She was a friendly gal who quickly replaced the socket. In appreciation for her help, I was given a nibble and drink. I’ll have to get a new lampshade.
The plaster on a mammoth, massive 2mm wound on my head was showing a little blood, but not a lot, as Paul Daniels used to say. Hehe! The Carer
took these photographs using Kodak Tim. The redeye looked to be well-receeded. Did I spell that right? Changed it.
Took a snap of the lovely streaky clouds on view.
I gave the new cheapo camera to Carer Chris. It is no good keeping it. The handle allows two fingers to go through it. The battery cover is loose and very delicate. I shall continue with Kodak Tim despite the occasional blotches that appear in the pictures. And the USB connector it very stiff to get in and out of the camera. And there is no lens cover on it, with fiddly tiny
buttons. I think maybe I bought a child camera. Still, that suits Chris. His missus can have it. He likes it too! Good for him.Â
I pressed on with the Ode, not even started on the blog yet.
Note that the smudge or blotch is back on the screen and photos again. A smidge disappointing cause I thought that these two photographs
came out okay; otherwise.
Wonderful Cloud Formations.
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I hobbled to the wet room to empty the nocturnal catheter pouch in the WC. It was not a good colour again this morning, and my blood pressure
high.
sausages don’t fit well with my innards?
I started shaving, and things seemed to be going pretty well.
for some unknown reason, I’d spread others around the toilet seat? Still, it let me take a snap of them, Hehe! Then, I found the blood-soaked plaster on the top of my head. The box of plasters was in the kitchen, so I cleaned it up; it was still bleeding, so I put two thick plasters on it after trying to see if the Brute would work this time. What had happened was a bit foggy in my mind.Â
I cleaned what must have been the most minor cut ever and put another plaster on. Then I
The few minutes on the balcony, like yesterday with the police incidents, were just as interesting. First, I saw about six magpies in the car park mudslide having a bath together… Seconds late, about ten crows appeared and saw off the magpies in no time.
The chips in the oven were nowhere near cooked, so I took what was meant to be one snap of the interesting getting dark night view of the sky. My habit of pareidoliaising was put into practice with these. Can you see the eyes of the creature? The dog’s head? I must get my eyes done again.
I got the meal served up. It was not one of my better ones, to say the least. The chips were not good. They were so bad I later threw away the rest of the bag from the freezer. Tsk!
Pareidoliaising, on the last Kodak of the day.
Even I found them, although it did take me a bit longer than the estimated 10 seconds.
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Well-blooded urine this morning.
End car park in the rain.
Iceland order.
Plenty of sausages?
A mixed bag of treats, bread & cleaners.
Joy! Lemon Tartlets!.
This shot clearly shows the mess made in the wall breather. They told me they were coming back to sort it out, but that was in September 1989. I think I let them done by living so long. Hehehe!
Another visit!
medications I was on may affect things, such as the Finasteride tablets that the so-called specialist recommended that the Doctor puts me on for a month, that may reduce the size of my prostate and allow me to manually pee again. She’s still got me taking them now, a year later? Not that I will ever find out, cause since starting, the Community Nurses were to take out the whole contraption and give it overnight to see if I can pass on my own so’s to put it. They’ve only done this twice in over a year. Looks like I’ll never know?
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Sorry, but this will have to be rushed. I’m so far behind with everything after the £290 CorelDraw 2004 programme I just installed a few days ago crashed four times. As usual, a message came up after reloading each time, wanting my email and an explanation of what I was doing when it crashed, and I lost everything I’d done! Then I had more bother when the Control+I, and E did not work. The trouble is, if I do find a way around it, I forget how I did it the next time it happens.
Pouch.
Urgh!
Yet it took ages to get started?
Hoovered the hallway.
Balcony sky view.
The first mug of Glengettie.
Drinkies, some for the treat shelf, vinegar and seasoning.
As the evening approached, the sky looked good.
Pigged the meal down.
Took this shot from the kitchen window.
I got the chalk, Hehe!
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of my prostate coming out. Cause when the Specialist Doctor put me on the Finasteride tablets for a month.
So the month’s course is now a year-long one, and still, they ply me with more Prostate (RIP)-killing capsules?
A better colour this morning.
The sun was creeping up from the rear left of the blocks of prison cells—no, no, flats! It gave this shot a specific flavour, but I forgot what word I was going to use.
It’s safe to say that the oven burn scar will soon start to crumble off of the hand. It’s not easy taking photos with one hand.
Out came the new cordless hoover with its headlights on when in use. I think I’ll name it Vacuum Victor.

I caught my hand on the rack as I grabbed the toilet roll, and bits of a green-looking scar dropped off. It has taken eleven days to heal. I’d better not pick at it, though.Â
Afternoon and evening sky snaps.
Pareidolia’s Delight.
Faces, bird heads, a human head…
A taser, a beast with an open jaw, and a bird with an open beak—it’s incredible how many things I spotted today.
This is the last of the sky shots I took. I took some later ones without the SD card being inserted into Kodak Tim. Tsk! It could happen to anyone, (he
16:20hrs: Carer Ali arrived as I sat down to have the meal.
& Tangy!
extension that slightly made me jump. I knocked the overbed mini-table over, followed it onto the floor, and tripped again over the walking stick that had been knocked over as well. I wish this was being recorded in something other than my memory! It was worthy of being a Brian Rix-type Farce!Â
Porcelain Throne arose! I was extra heedful and got to the wet room without further hindrances. The flow started as my bottom hit the plastic lid. It came and came… and came! It was a Kharki, almost liquid type of evacuation. You know, the kind that leaves an uncomfortable sensation in your innards… well, my innards!
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Varer Christopher took some sky photos for me last night on his previous two visits that I can use. My eyes were not up to photographing much, but I took a couple before the effects got to me, which is another belated side effect.
Chris’s first efforts here.
From the balcony window.
Nice.
A double shot, methinks?
His second visit snaps.
Local residences.
Local residences.
I took this one earlier when trying to sleep in the chair.
Chris took this shot for me.
Also, this is one of the burn scars. It seems to be drying up now; the crust is beginning to break up. I burned my hand on the oven rack eight days ago! It’s a persistent little thing. Hehe!
Took this watching the TV in the hope of falling asleep.

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Sky.
Sky later.
Sky laterer…
Chips in’t oven.
Sausages ready.
Sliced a brown baguette.
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