
Fanmarveloustic! Chinwags, From a Socially acceptable distance, of course! And great weather!
Well, Jenny, bless her, delivered the lemon bleach and yoghourts she’s ordered for me good and early. Left them near the doorstep. Thus, I had time to rush about, (this may be a slightly excessive description) and get ready for my much longed for, my first trip out on the bus into town, for months! Excitement flooded the brain!
I made a complete hash of getting ready. It’d been so long since I went out, many things confused my poor old stale, addled brain:
- I had to leave the socks off, cause they were too painful to wear!
- Thus, I had agony with the feet and toes. But no matter, I was in my seventh heaven, about to escape into the outside world again!
- Where were the unused for nine weeks flat keys? Found them quickly
- Where was the bus-pass card, unused for nine weeks? This took yonks to find!
- Where was the cash card? This took an aeon to find!
- Time was getting on, so I put on the coat I last went out in. The heavy one!
- Going to be interesting fun this, no hearing aid batteries!
I got the three-wheeled walker-guide, made sure some spare shopping bags were in it. And a few pressies in case I encounter any of the regular kind shop staff. And off I set!
Picture based record of the best day out for months. Well, it the first one!
Down in the elevator.

Checked on the electronic notice board, no rush after all. 12-minutes before the bus was due! A hobble down Chestnut Walk

Met several tenants, and had a chinwag or two, en route to the bus stop.
At the stop, people were mostly being sensible and keeping to the social distancing rules. I had a natter with Margaret, Christine and Steve. The bus arrived, and Christine seemed to be aware of my nervousness getting on the bus. On the short trip down the hill, she made me feel comfortable as we chinwagged.
I followed others who had got off the bus, down to the bus stop for a ride to town. Oh, dear, I was a tad confused getting on, but someone put me right. Each second side-saddle seat had been taped off and not in use. But there were not any available. Now there I was with my trolley, and in a pickle as to what to do. But a gentleman saw me in a ponder, and got up from a side-saddle, and moved to another seat, freeing it for me. Bless him!
We all got off at Victoria Centre, Christine had to remind I needed this stop. Haha! I chatted with her for a while, and she told me of the L9 bus being on a two hour Saturday timetable, and that I needed to get the bus back at 11:05hrs.
I felt so cared about, it was lovely.

I hobbled, (and the feet were giving my terrible gip) along Milton Street, and called into the old Poundstretcher shop. They, like the other shops, had set a new layout, and the in-door had been blocked off. I had a hunt around the grocery shelves, in search of some Pakistani potato cakes. But could not find any. But I still got to the checkout with; A can of Bonners BBQ sauce, Italian lemon cookies (Froletti Al Limone), Largeish bottle of Light Soy Sauce at £1.49. You’ll like this, a small packet of… ready for it; Asolo Dolce, Alla Marmellata di Arance! Which was Strudel with orange jam! Haha! And, All’Arancia Limone cookies. Finally, a face-mask, for a quid! I didn’t find out until I got home and could use the magnifying glass, it was made in Turkey.

I still found it hard to believe how few people were about. Milton Street, apparently the busiest in Nottingham City Centre, had six Nottinghamians, and so many closed stores!

As I crossed over Lower Parliament Street to get to the Poundland store, four cyclists came along the pavement, more or less at the same time. I struggled to get the camera out, by then there were only the two in the above picture left in view.
Into the shop, and they too had changed things around. I got a bit puddled trying to find the disinfectants, and I asked a lady assistant where they were; I followed her non-verbal finger that pointed towards the shop door, thanked her, and went to find them. The maze of aisles was challenging to manoeuvre around, with so many being blocked by the shelf fillers. Not that I blame them, they’ve got a job to do. With hopes high, I approached the fresh food fridge, almost tasting Pork Farms pie as got there. But, no, they didn’t have any. Which is a good thing really, I shouldn’t eat them anyway. But I did spot the tasty Frankfurters were in stock. I can’t work out why, but this brand, despite having less meat in than others are so filling and flavoursome. That’s tonight’s nosh sorted! Potatoes, peas, mushrooms, tomatoes and franks!
I did overspend, though!

I got to the checkout. As I was struggling anyway to put the basket on the counter, guess what? Without any warning or twitches, Peripheral Pete’s right-legs did a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routine, and to make things more embarrassing, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley had a bash at me! The basket tipped off the counter, and I made things worse by grabbing at it and spilling everything out onto the floor! Grobognangles! A lady arrived to help me, I moved out of her way, and she calmly gathered the goods and put them back in the basket and onto the counter for me. I mumbled my apologies, and the Tut-tutting from those behind me grew louder! To make those waiting angrier and even more likely to belt me one in the kisser, I’d bought a bottle of disinfectant, that was two for the same price as one, a quid. The kind lady pointed this out to me and called for someone to get another bottle for me. This was not making me very popular at all!
Yet the understanding of the serving lady was so much appreciated. The leg was still twitching a bit, and I feared it might ‘Dance-off’ again. So I paid the lady, thanked her, and hobbled to the door. I swear a heard a ginormous ‘Sigh’ from behind me!

Getting out back on the pavement, I took a shot of Parliament Street traffic; or lack of it. It was a sad sight. Made worse by so many obstreperous, leary, ignorant, dangerous, uncaring pavement cyclists. Notably, the scruffy-haired, tattooed neck and ear tab young delinquent who almost ran into me while I was taking the photo above, from behind! While I had the camera out, I turned to my left and took a shot of the end of Milton Street, then got in one of the closed-down shops’ doorways and sorted the weight distribution of the things in the trolley-basket and two carrier bags.

I’d bought a bottle of Aquafresh mouthwash, the two disinfectants for a pound, Frankfurters, Cheeslets, cashew nuts, a concentrated Lemon & mint, and Lemon disinfectants, and a (Not joking) Lemon & Sherbert freshener!

As I was passing the end of Milton Street, I was nearly assaulted by two pavement cyclists, from either direction! I caught a snap of the younger of the two illegal, contemptible, parasitic, moronic, spit-worthy urchins in this picture above.

Now here’s a rare sight, Milton Street with no moving traffic on it!

I got along to, and down King Street. The whole thing seemed so, almost hallucinatory. All I could see down the hill were two people! Weird!

As I got towards the bottom of the road on my way to the Slab Square, it got crowded, (Hahaha!) The spunk-bubbling, repugnant, detestable, unlikeable, arrogant pavement cyclist put on a display here. Unfortunately, I only caught this one parasite coming up the hill with my trusty Canon lens.

A little further down, and sod me, another sycophantic, tellurian organism of a pavement cyclist appeared. But I contained my hatred, fear and desire to knock the froward, mordant, noxiously pestiferously whippersnapper-bugger off of his bike… mainly cause he’d only belt the hell out if afterwards. Hahaha!

A handful of Nottinghamians in the Slab-Square, the quietness was eerie, and Nottingham’s Fothergill Watson designed building opposite, showing a sharp contrast the newer erections in the background, and was a touch saddening.

I turned to make my way to the bus stop, and a smidge of concern suddenly came over me. “What happens if the Coronvirus makes a comeback? And how come, it hasn’t seen off many pavement cyclists? Makes you think, dunnit?

Ah, another PC (Pavement Cyclist) made an appearance, as I turned up Queen Street towards the L9 bus stop.
The mind wandered as I limped slowly up the hill, Brian Clough’s statue on my right, The old Prudential Buildings, more pavement cyclists, not a sign of a policeman all day, how come I’ve gone for nearly two days without needing the porcelain throne?

The sheer magnificence of Fothergill Watson’s architectural designs. How come, I’ve gone so long without wanting a wee-wee? I was really into the mind-straying and changing routine, as I got to the top of the hill. But it came to a sudden end.
When I caught my foot on the wheel of the trolley as I secured it, in the middle of the pelican crossing refuge, to take this photo of Parliament Street, in all its bleakness. The burning, throbbing pains from the toes and souls of the feet were excruciating, and that’s no exaggeration. It ended my day out, in a despicably nauseating style. But it wasn’t quite finished yet.

I waited for and caught the L9 bus. Having to sit with the trolley in front of me was a bit awkward and difficult. The brakes on the three-wheeler would not apply? Which meant I had to sit leant forward, holding onto the trolley, to stop it rolling away for the whole journey. This stopped my blood flow, and Shuddering Shirley and Colin Cramps accompanied me. However, once Christine got on the bus, I concentrated on her amusing and witty tales. We had a laugh or a few en route home. She kindly didn’t run off, but walked at my steady pace and chatted as we walked the length of Chestnut Walk back to our beloved Woodthorpe Court. We waited for the lift, and Chrissie went up as we said our farewells to each other. It felt like I’d been out for hours and hours, and the fatigue was dawning. But, when I took a snap of the electronic notice board, as I did when I departed, showed me that I’d only been out from 09:20 to 11:41hrs.

I got the lift, and with there still being no call for a wee-wee or the Porcelain Throne, I put the purchasers away and made a super-duper mug of Thompsons Punjana.
———————————————————————————
3.7 hours out in the fresh air,
I have to say the weather was fair,
Pavements Cyclist apart,
And the toe-stubbing on the cart,
It made the day for this worrywart,
I’m so glad to be back in my lair!

- Cheers, folks!




Off to wash the bucket and have a quick wash. The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, fortuitously, while I was in the wet room, a foot away from the bowl! One of the most comfortable sessions I’ve had for a long time, weeks possibly. The pain, as usual, was there, but not so acute. The evacuation was quicker and the mess minimal. I was pretty chuffed at that!
I dropped the jammie-bottoms and had a look at the pins (legs). Good heavens! They looked odder in size to each other, but both were carrying a lot of fluid retention—time for the Furesomide tablet to be taken for a few mornings methinks.
To the kitchen, got the kettle on, took a photographicalisation of the morning view, took the medications (with a Furesomide), then dosed the ear-holes with olive oil, and made the super-flavoursome Glenghettie tea.
An email from Iceland, telling me there had been changes made to my order. Humph! To the computer, and checked on the Iceland delivery email. As I anticipated, the ‘unavailable’ list was all toilet rolls and kitchen towels!
I got on with making some needed to continue blogging graphics, first. Then to the job of updating the Tuesday post diary. Which was very time-consuming. But I eventually got it finished. All done and posted off.
I then opened the Amazon box. Everything was there, the ear-blower ball, dropper bottles and the ear-wax remover tool. Soon as I get the time, I’ll try the de-waxer out. All three were made in China. No Coronavirus germs in with them, I hope? 
Time to get the ablutions done! And a good session this was too!
the seat either! Brilliant!
Did the ears with the new remover tool. Doing the right ear-hole, relied on Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters not playing up, first signs of this, and I’ll stop and try again later. It’s not worth making the hearing any worse. A fiddly, painstaking task, but I coped pretty
On the CorelDrawing for mere seconds, and the doorbell chimed out its ♫I only want to be with you♫ tune. It was the Iceland delivery man with only a few bags for me. (Someone had admitted him in through the foyer door) He dropped them in the hallway, I thanked him, and off he shot. As anticipated, the paper towels and toilet rolls were missing, out-of-stock! 
The trip to town was a battle-ridden to stay in the side-saddle seat job. But I managed to have a go at the crosswording all the same. The bus was diverted today, this did not please the driver.
Into the Poundland Store, in search of kitchen towels and/or toilet rolls. There were many empty shelves around the store. Panic-buying I imagine being the cause?
I did get some more of the Turkish-made and printed Woolite liquid though. And they were all low measure. But, at £1.99 from £2,99 seem fair value. I genuinely believe this ‘Black’ one does work well, and bring back the colours of dark clothing. A few more tins of the garden peas and a kitchen roll (No toilet rolls available).
Alighted back at the flats, and walked to the Winwood Court entrance, turning back to take this picture. It caught the bus I’d arrive on leaving, and the City Bound one arriving. The best thing about this shot, for me, was the lack of vehicles parked around the bus turning
island. I got inside and shouted a ‘Hello’ through the open door of the ILC’s Wardens Interrogation office. No response. They could not have heard me.
Along the link-passage back to the Woodthorpe Court lift lobby. Passing the al-fresco seating outside, I wondered if I’ll ever get the chance of going out there and sitting on one of the wooden benches, with the crossword book, a flask of
tea, and some sun-shining? Out of the lift, and to the flat. 
After a while of nodding and waking, I got up to make a brew of tea. The sky encouraged me to take a photograph of it.


01:58hrs: I woke several times during the night, but soon nodded off again. This time, I removed my cumbersomely over-stomached body from the £300, second-hand recliner almost straight away. I caught my balance and got the stick, and as I made my way to the kitchen, I stopped part-way… Where were my ailments? Was I still dreaming? Of the wide selection of issues available to me, only Saccades Sandra and Back-Pain-Brenda was of any bother? Duodenal Donald, Dizzy Dennis and the others seem to have abandoned me! Had I snuffed it during the night? I was confused, but oh, so pleased, even if it was only going to be a temporary situation, I took a weak wee-wee in the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and started to sing to myself as I got in the kitchen! 

Responded to WordPress comments (2), t
On to graphicalisationing now for a while, before getting the wash & brush-up done. 
I alighted the bus last as usual to avoid the stampede for the door, and stood a moment or two, to search for my shopping list. I knew I was only going to Tesco to get fresh fruit & veg, then the Bargain shop. But there were other items that I could not recall. No luck in finding it anywhere, searched every pocket and the trolley bag?
I hobbled on a few yards and stopped for another search of the jacket and trolley bag. I was getting slightly annoyed with myself again. I was sure I’d put the list in my coat pocket earlier on.
As I paid and left, then walked down and out onto Milton Street, I had a rest, as Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley had joined in with Back-Pain-Brenda, in giving me some stick.
As I started moving again, with little bother from Arthur Itis I might add, I spotted this chap across the road? 

Now, in Depression Defcon Two, I was in a right morbid mood. I moved down the hill, to catch the next 40 bus (15 minutes to wait for it) – already dreading the walk from the 40 bus stop on Mapperley Rise back to the flats. I think I might have still been muttering insults at myself? Cholericalisations!

I walked through the Winwood Court entrance and along the link-passage to the Woodthorpe Court lift lobby. Not a soul in sight.
I fumbled about a bit getting into the flat with the trolley-guide. Much to the displeasure of Back-Pain-Brenda. She’s not been in a good mood with me at all, today. 
Mushrooms, sugar snap, leeks and peas in the saucepan. Parsnips, turnips, carrots and sweet potatoes in the oven, sprayed with olive oil and roasting.
I added some of the seaweed nibbles to the plate of so many different vegetables and sausage. I must say it tasted marvellous! A Taste-Rating of 8.8/10! 




















To the kitchen, got the kettle on, and had another unfruitful search for the Rice Cooker instruction booklet. I opened the unwanted, light & view-blocking, cannot reach to clean, thick-framed, letting rain-in window, to take a photograph of the morning lights and dark sky. I pondered for a short while, on the mass of Nottinghamians out there. Desperate illegal immigrants, freed from prison murderers, sleep-sleepers, scum drug gangs, muggers, shoplifters, pavement cyclists, pickpockets… I had to stop thinking about it, I was depressing myself! Hehe!
I made a start on this blog but had to stop, to get the ablutions done. Now, this might be another challenge?
The pins (legs) were looking super-good this morning! I took a shot of them before, and after the losing Sock-Glide battle.
week from Amazon, I threw them away, not worth washing anyway. They fall down all the time, Tsk! The first time I washed them, and they wouldn’t stay up at all! Unless perhaps on someone with dirty-great massive tree-trunk legs. Hehe!


Lower down the road, I got the front wheel stuck in a rut in the pavement. Just thought I’d mention it! Tsk!
I walked up to the bus stop, the drizzling had stopped altogether, now. 
The light dimmed as I got to Queen Street to catch a 40 bus back to the flats. Not many Nottinghamians about for a Friday, I thought. Then I realised it was Thursday. The heavens opened! But I was alright under the bus shelter by then. (Smug-Mode-Adopted!)
I did nip out from the cover to take a couple of pictures of the street art on view, on Queen Street, near the Reds True B-B-Q eatery. Well, Red’s True Barbecue, it’s called.
Mind you, this route takes far less time to get to Sherwood, than the L9 does. (When it’ s running that is!) But the bad thing is, it doesn’t call at the flats! It drops off on Sherwood Rise, one the steepest roads in Nottinghamshire. Just beyond in this picture, the road drops and a sharp bend is out of sight. Dodgy for crossing, even for
someone not handicapped. But I got over the road safely this time, and the rain started coming heavier now.
I got back to the flats as the rain increased, just timed it nicely. As I got into the link passage, the precipitation was positively pelting down! I got through to Woodthorpe Court lobby, and I met with Cyndy also getting into the lift. Nice to have a chinwag and laugh. ♥
As I got out of the elevator, I realised there was no floor sign in the wall, Cyndy laughed telling me all the floor signs had been taken down, new ones on the way? I laughed.
paint. So I turned around and took this photo. 

confused, but my EQ talks, and I listen. 





To the computer, and set to updating the Wednesday post. Nicodemus Neurotransmitters were not playing up much at all. That was a pleasant divergence from the norm, which I took advantage of, and had got the whole thing finished of (not many photos) in record time before they kicked off again. Also, I struggled to read my own writing. Fleeting Satisfied Mode! 

floor-cupboard. Sigh!

They were all made-up. so that was nice! I put the new frying pan in the trolley-guide bag, I’d decided to give it to the volunteers at the Social Kitchen to use. Got wrapped up warmly, and ventured out. Down in the elevator, through the link-passage, into Winwood Court, I met Angie and Roy at the foyer door, they were buying some stuff early from the bread and veg man, then catching a taxi.
Then into the big social lounge, where some residents were finishing off their Friday breakfasts. I was in a bit of a rush in case the bus came early, so I went straight to the kitchen opening window, cause they do not like my three-wheeler near the food, a lady came behind me and told me not to stand there, cause she’s trying to serve people! Fair enough, I shoved the brand new pan in her hand and told her “Here, you can have this!” The good feeling of my doing something to help, drained from me. I walked out through the Winwood foyer door and made my way to the bus shelter.
I caught the bus back, and Bill (William on Sundays) got on further along the route. With us both being hard-of-hearing, the conversation was strained. Haha!
re I knew it, the time was gone 17:00hrs!
down next. I turned off the computer, and in a state of ultra-weariness, battled to keep my concentration as I prepared the stew.
I got the pots in the washing-up bowl to soak. Took another shot of the evening sky, and had a wee-wee. Settled in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.


Clumber Street, I rested, the knees were stinging and tight,
.
Long Row, above the Yorkshire bank,
Long Row businesses, failing so so much now,
Ah, another pavement cyclist, for short, PC, I’ll call them,
A gathering of Nottinghamians resting,
City Centre, Long Row, and, the Slab Square,
Queen Street, I nearly got hit by yet another PC,



It was time to get the ablutions done. I had to get them done earlier than usual, in case the Angel nurse Christina came again, I pray she does. Off to the wet room, then. 



Got in the apartment and got the things out of the bag and carrier.
The earlier handwashing was not ready, not dry enough yet to move over the radiator. Especially the jammie bottoms.
things I fancied viewing. 

A proper feast this meal was. Beef pastie, tomatoes, beetroot and a portion of McCain’s blight removed chips. With caramelised onion chutney, wholemeal bread thins and some German smoked Bavarian ham that was just out of date, but tasted fine. Some fresh orange juice for afters. Flavour Rating: 8.4/10, super! 





I don’t like getting mail, it’s very rarely good nows, if ever! One letter was from Severn Trent, informing me of there working on the water supply again, from 6th to the 16th of January. The second letter, from Nottingham City Homes. Telling me; Your requested maintenance work to be carried out at your home. We will be coming to carry out repairs on 20th January 2020, between 08:00 > 12:30hrs.
Now, being as they have not mentioned what repairs they are coming to do, I’m not sure if they are coming to look at the blocked WC, the leaking hot water tap, or the deadly (finger-tearing and bruising) metal spring lock on the unwanted and unliked balcony? So, I’d better get the removal men in and empty the kitchen, wet room and front room… well, the apartment, so the things don’t get in their way? Could be expensive, this! I put them in the Google Calendar – in hopes that Liberty-Global Virgin Media boss, Mike (I’m paid over $17m salary, so sod internet users) Fries, lets me get access to it.
Ablutions tackled. Now here this… only three dropsies! Yee-Ha!
and took the waste bags to the chute, before venturing down to Windwood Court and the Obersturmbannfhreress Warden’s holding cell. On the way through the link passage, the weather looked ominous – Rain, rain and rain! Tsk! 
I was almost reluctant to get up after a few minutes. But the missing the bus would have been the result, had I stayed any longer, in the warmth and comfort of Winwood Court.
Out to the crowded bus shelter, to join the others. You can see the ‘Bookies Nightmare’ and my neighbour Malcolm, entertaining the females. He does is so well, and is a much admired and thought of bloke. Makes yer sick! Just cause he’s younger than me, more prosperous, better looking. Tsk! Hehehe! He’s a great character really and of a helpful nature. Christine, Penny and Mary Jean amongst others.



Back at the flats, Mary and I got off last with of wheelers and went into the building through Winchester Court, to get out of the rain quicker. Through the link passages back to the cold Woodthorpe Court.
Having the ready-made BLT sandwich, roast onions, pork pie, tomatoes, beetroot, things on sticks (can’t remember the name now), and sliced apple. A Limoncello dessert, and fresh orange juice. By Jiminy, it was good! A flavour rating of 9/10 for this one. It went down a treat. Mind you, I’d been up for about fifteen hours
by then, so hunger must have played a part in my enjoying it so much. Haha! 
The overcharging food stalls, cooking their repast,
The Nottingham Slab Square, 
I entered the premises, soaking wet,
Paid-up, and out into the rain again,
On to South Parade,
I took a photo, down Exchange Walk,
I crossed to the other side of Long Row,
I was well wet, and a little cold,
T’was bleak on Queen Street, waiting for the L9,
And the hands didn’t look very fine!
The bus arrived, and it brought on a smile, 