Odes

Inchcock Diary & Odes, Fri 27th May 2022

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

Diary & Odes

Blotchy-Faced?

INCHIES MORNING ODE

I looked in the mirror last night; a terrible sight!
It was as if I’d been battered in a fistfight,
Blotches, pale eyes, a depression, it did incite…
How do I get into this mentally-inspired plight?
The physical ailments, I’m coping with them alright…
Although some of them can at times be a fight…
Cataracts, neuropathy, deaf, etc. have ruined my rike,
I’ve no confidence left; I feel like a troglodyte!

Was my being born an accident or oversight?
Mother ran away, was the start of my many a fike…
In social interactions, at 76, I’m still a neophyte…
Which doesn’t explain why my eyes and skin are so white?
The red patches remind me of the pox and bryophyte…
But I’m going to stop worrying… well, I might…
Things come to me, ailments, fears and many a blight…
What future I’ve left is not looking too bright!

I need to do something, like mind-defragging,
Free the tension, keep the tongues from wagging,
Cause it’s no use hiding and camouflaging…
My failures, incompetency and my not belonging!
My faults in the future, I’ll be acknowledging,
I’ll start with cutting out the foul language and effing…
Cut down my time blogging and cybersurfing!
From overeating, I’ll start abstaining,
Why do all that, you may be asking?
I can’t remember now, and that’s alarming!

YOU CAN TELL HE IS CHEERING UP A BIT, CAN’T YOU

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Friday 27th May

04:30hrs: I woke with the usual jump but soon regained all possible control (Which was not a lot) of my brain. And responded niftily to the call from Bladder Blair for a wee-wee.

Washed and made a brew of Thompsons’ Signature tea. Got on the computer and started to get the photos on.

These on the right are from last evening after I’d got the nosh consumed and settled down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner.

But I kept getting up again to photograph the sky.

Resettled but dozed for half an hour and shot wide awake again. Humph!

And the glow from the sky was coming through the curtain. I just had to, and I did, get up yet again to take these three pictures on the left of the evening late sunsetting.

These were a lot more colourful than the earlier ones.

The first one I took and made was while making a brew of Glengettie tea. By the time I’d made the mug, the rain had stopped, and the whole sky had changed colour with some interesting orange-hued puffer clouds near the horizon.

Mother nature never seems to stop amazing me.

I started to update the Wednesday/Thursday blog. Then within minutes, I had to return to the wet room, in need of the Porcelain Throne. So, I did!

A messy Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation again, but not as bad as yesterday. Not one of my better ones! I opted to get the ablutions done while I was in there.

The teeth bled; I dropped the razor and banged my shoulder on the sink, bending down to retrieve it. Then proceeded to give me several cuts shaving, under the chin, the ear-hole, and…wait for this… my left index finger! Then as I looked in the shaving mirror as I was cleaning it, I saw the blotches all over my face! Worra state! And the eye sockets looked proper pink?

Carer Valerie arrived. She got the medications sorted out, and we managed a little natter between us. And Val took the laundry with her and the waste bag, saying as Arni did… “I’ll be back!” Hehe!

I went back onto the blog and got it finished and posted off. Pinterested some photos and got on Facebook catch-up.

Then the Amazon Morrison order arrived. A lovely foreign lady, polite and sociable gal, bless her cotton socks. Three items were out of stock. And the onion chips were substituted with curry chips. Not sure that I will be keen on them, but, you never know, they might taste alright for me. At least I got the red potato fritters and one of the three battered chips I wanted.

Then, I got the things sorted and stored. There didn’t seem much to go in the freezer, which was just as well cause there was no room in the drawers anyway. I did get a loaf of bread in.

The fridge didn’t look anywhere as near full as usual after a delivery? Was I getting good and ordering less?

Well, no, not really. Why the heck I ordered a packet of Thompson’s Signature tea bags? I don’t know. I’ve got six packages of Thompson’s Punjana, two of J Sainsbury Red label extra strong, and a box of Glengettie in stock already? Oh, and a bix of Co-op 99 as well!

I got the flower treats that should have been coming on Monday for today. My EQ told me to. There will be something occurring on Monday medically, mayhaps, he tells me? I rang Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell her they were here, and when she came later, she kindly took a bunch to Francis for me. I can’t recall their names, but there were two different types. She had a choice of whichever she fancied.

I returned to finish off the Facebooking and then comments on WordPress. I got a call from my precious Hristina, the Warfarin DVT blood nurse; she will be calling twixt 10-1200hrs on Monday for the following test sample. I added it to the Google calendar. Got the Blood Pressure figured out. A bit high this morning. But this does happen now and then; it may have been with me hearing Hristina’s voice?

The body temperature was low, but nowt to worry about.

Carer Valerie returned the laundry for me. Thanked her, and off she went. I visited the junk room to hang the clothes. I was disappointed in the state of the jammie bottoms, all creased up, one leg inside out. One long-sleeved tee shirt was the same with the arms. The trousers were crunched up and creased. I must try to get Meridian to stop doing the washing for me… and paying them!

The tap tapping and noises that sounded like something metal-like being dropped kicked off. Still, he’s been quiet up till now.

Made an order for Iceland next week. Then got the nosh sorted. Oh, Boy, were those curried potato chips tasty! Yes, they were! Buttered mushroom pate sarnies, gherkins, red and orange tomatoes. A banana to follow and a worthy 8.3/10 for taste! Lovely!

I got settled to await the arrival of the evening carer, who was a smidge late, not that it mattered. I started to watch a Heartbeat episode, and every few minutes, I’d nod off for a couple of minutes, wake up, and off again. Most aggranoying, as I’d not seen this episode before. Tsk!

The evening carer arrived, medicated me, and asked if the laundry was ready to collect. I said that Valerie had done it this morning. A nibble and can of plonk were selected, and she took the waste bag with her.

Locked the door and got settled to watch the second episode of Heartbeat on the box. But, No! I kept nodding off again and shooting awake after a few minutes, only to drift off again and repeat the procedure?

Somehow I did manage to nod off, but it was hours later.

My much blotchy pot-marked face,
A sign of age, rotting and decays?
To be expected, I think nowadays…
Like wee-weeing in spurts and sprays.
Or losing memories that fade and stray…
Along with confusing, baffling thought waves…
Needing a kip each day, before midday…
Recalling when one was alive, in one’s heyday,
You’re looking towards the next pension day,
Coping with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley…
Deaf, cataracts, depression Monday to Sunday…

My excrescences, give me haute couture,
If that’s the word, I’m not really sure…
I wonder if the Tate would make a sculpture?
I’d like to be a giver, cheerer-upperer, enricher…
Or an MP, maybe even a frontbencher?
Perhaps best, if I stay as this demented old failure,
Although I’m sadly an incompetent botcher…
A harmless old fart who’s into pareidolia…
Awaiting St Peter’s greeting as he says, ‘Gotcha!’
Possibly, my brain may have caught paranoia?

Trying is the first step toward failure!

Inchcocks Thoughts – In Odes Issue 13â…“rd

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

In Odes, not good ones… but Odes!

The number of humans on this earth is 7.87 billion at this time…
On the global internet, the users add up to 4,321,740 and 9!
So your chance of your blog going viral is fine…
But don’t expect it, as I did, then found a steady decline!
I hope you do much betterer with thine!
My last one got two likes and comments; one was mine!

It’s Doreen Dementia and Liberty-Global I blame,
It’s fun to me, but it’s all money… a shame!
Their service is as much off as on, and it’s a game…
Farcically, ownership Liberty-Global disclaim!
Telling the call agents not to ever mention their name!

Liberty-Global owns Virgin; the boss should resign!
For Mr Fries knows not what he is doing…
Or though maybe he does, he makes money fine?
It’s overpaying mugs like me that he’s screwing…
His bosses think that everything is fine…
With Fries shadowy, manipulative money moving,
All on paper, mist and mirrors… this profit maker-divine!

A gorgeous gal wanted me in the early hours of this morning…
Of course, I knew that I was probably dreaming,
This very fact, I found a little perturbing…
She insisted on closer, passionate probing,
To my delight, she was acquiescing…
We were soon manipulating and bouncing,
She was ready and asked for another trouncing,
No problem for me, and I began eagerly disrobing,
But my performance, I think, was unconvincing…
Surely she should have been rejoicing?
And as her knickers, she was replacing…
I attempted some more romantic seducing…
I found it embarrassing what she was saying…
“I’ll not call again; there was no pain – Where’s this leading?
I’m just glad I was only dreaming!

–

I thought the visit before was on the wet side…
But this evacuation was even more undignified
I failed to get there on time, my aim was wide…
I cleaned things up, taking it all in my stride,
In doing this, I felt an iota of pride!

Cleaned, refreshed, but I went from Jekyll to Hyde,
As I started to get things all antisepticised…
I dropped the Germoloid after it had been applied…
And trod on it, swore, and boy, how I did self deride!
The contents squirted all over, and my frustration intensified!

But this Throne visit had yet another downside to it…
Leaving the wet room, I misjudged the width a little bit,
Missed hitting into the frame; I gave myself a little merit!
Stubbed my toe on the airer; fell, hitting under my armpit!
All this cause I urgently needed a flipping sh__!

Thought Storms Erupted

The Thought-Storms erupted, irking, they attacked,
Insults, fears, and failures were lurking and squirted…
Self-loathing, diffidence, vacillation were not appreciated
New worries, old ones, insecureness… amalgamated!
It’s Thought-Storms like this that are most hated!

The cause of the forebodings could not be authenticated,
For reasons, causes, I waited and waited, breath abated…
Nothing was solved, understood or elucidated…
The logic-testing thoughts, endlessly circumlocuted,
My mind was failing, nervous and bloviated!

My resistance was worn down, crumbling, it wilted…
My own thoughts could not be filtered…
However, slowly the tormenting mind vegetated,
Which was good; the brain needed to be rested…
Along came a new wave of dichotomies to be wherrited!

Inchcock Thought Storms – In Ode

Inchcocks Bungee-Jump – Where, How and Why?

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

Inchcocks Bungee-Jump

There was a damsel I wanted to impress,
She was chunky, and I’d heard, easy to undress…
She loved a laugh and smiled at my stupidness…
But she admired men who showed fearlessness…
What could this whimp do with his faintheartedness?

I pondered, deciding on using fictitiousness!
Told her I was going bungee jumping, most unchivalrous,
Where? she asked – ‘Darley Dale on the bus…’
I’ll come to see you, she said. Oh, excessiveness!
Now to face my acrophobia… but not be loveless?

,

I got the motorbike mended, off to Darley Dale,
Picking up en route, the bonny lass, called Abigail,
I arrived at the festival and put on a swagger, to no avail…
From inside, my stomach churned; I must’ve looked pale…
I was putting myself through hell for a desirable female!

Nervous? Me? Yes, I could hardly breathe or inhale!
Searching for an excuse, I was feeling foolish and frail…
Yet I was laughing along with my beloved Abigail,
I looked up at the cherrypicker platform I’ve to scale,
Fear of heights and cowardice… will I die at Darley Dale?

I found a resolution by fearing being mocked should I fail…
Idea! Thump a Policeman, then they’d take me to jail?
But no, I must do this heroic act to impress Abigail!
If I live through this, fall in love, I’d tell the tale…
Or should I run away and search for the Holy Grail?

They booked my jump for about 1400hrs…
I sneaked away to the Pretty Flowers…
A quaint pub on the road to Alton Towers…
I drank three ciders and four pints of Guinness!
Enough surely to get me out of this?
I’ll never get up the ladder, being so pissed!

Walking back to the fair, when I was getting near…
The fresh air must have taken away my fear…
But it may have been something to do with the beer?
I started whistling and greeted the gang; I was feeling queer!
I cheerfully got into the bungee-jump helmet and gear!

.In the jumpers tent, all the others, some in over-leathers…
Nervously talking and bragging, being sick the others!
“Who’s first up?” most of them dithering and nervous!
I called, “Me first, captain!” The others finished their reefers…
Momentarily I thought, Did I take my beta-blockers?

Too late now, and I felt like a performer in a circus!
Abigail cheered me as I ascended,
I slipped on the ladder, hit my midriff and got winded,
Not enough for my bungee jump to be rescinded!
No stopping me now that I’d ascended…

I pressed on out to the platform… was this all a dwale?
Got out to the edge… shirt off, like a Chippendale…
Everyone from below could see I was a male!
The wind… suddenly blew a gale!
Down onto the ice-cream pole, my body did impale!

A Red Cross man arrived first. “Here, take this aspirin, cock!”
The whole thing was a shock and schlock!
And, I’d laddered my new knee-length bamboo right sock!
Why worry about that… it’s poppycock?
Mayhaps I’d gone into PTSD or shellshock?
The police arrived and arrested me for TWOC!

Inchcocks Make Folk Laugh in Ode Series 77â…˜th

Advice For Whippersnappers – Part 26â…™th

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

Advice For Whippersnappers

Part 26â…™th

Oddities whippersnappers may encounter, like leprosy,
An honest politician (Joking!), or water on the knee,
Have ten children; some are yours, at most three!
Go to Scotland for the whisky and to find Nessie…
Soon realise your sanity is becoming an absentee!

Cuddle up to and grope a gal, all nice and cosey…
Sweet words are shared, things getting lovey-dovey!
Then find out her name is Arthur and not Rosie…
No need to feel embarrassed, daft, or dozy…
Fake an excuse, rush off, and send him a posey!

One day you may become an abductee!
The kidnapper demanding lots of money…
Before he’ll think of setting you free…
But no one will pay; you’re not famous, yer see?
He’ll likely keep you as an adoptee!

You’ll eat strange foods, & plain foods, like onion bhaji,
Liqueurs, cannabis cheesecake, and beetroot coffee?
Pickled walnuts, fingernails, and chocolate garibaldi…
Even if financially up a gumtree…
Try anything, as long as it’s free!

Will you be an owner, manager, or employee?
Mayhaps a hippy with long hair and a goatee?
Drugged up to eyeballs, living in a fantasy?
Marching against bombs and nuclear energy…
Just like your Mam and Dad did in 1953!

No need to use a snickersnee or machete…
Wounding or killing is plain bizarrerie…
It could be you’ll need a necropsy?
All through greed and your bellicosity,
Finish now, with hatred and animosity!

Keeping on the straight and narrow takes fortuity…
To hide your weaknesses and frangibility…
We’ve only one life each, not an eternity
Staying honest and non-aggressive shows dignity!
At St Peter’s gate, of wrongs, you’ll need deniability,
It’ll be no good pleading for mercy, circumstantially!

When it comes to things financially,
You must avoid showing credulity!
Moneylenders, Bank managers, show crudity…
But do it to start with using misleading civility!
Muggers and robbers take your cash with audacity!

As you get older, you’ll go much more often for a wee-wee!
With little warning, you’ll rush to the WC…
But, you won’t make it in time very often you see…
I know, cause every day this is happening to me!
It’ll dribble or torrent, with no controllability…

The protection pants offer little comfort to me…
But less protection, as I increase my bellies adiposity…
Struggling, Little Inchie gets stuck in the zip… agony!
I wet myself; wetter than if on a water-skiers jetty!
It bleeds, I cry… this is ageing – it’s not very pretty!

Inchcocks tries to Make Them Laugh in Odes Series

Inchcock Today: Decision-Making Ode

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

Decision-Making Ode

To give up and let whatever will be, be,
Inchcock needs help, an advisee…
His confidence is low, can’t hear nor see correctly,
Sorting timing and transport problems presently…
Memory and mind blanks are persistently…
Worryingly scary words, guilt at being so portly?
Can’t communicate… he’ll need help shortly…

He’d like assistance without condescension…
Problems with his hobbling obamulation,
Going out? His last two trips caused panic hortation,
He wee-weed himself, oh, vociferation!

Staying in now, he expects a call from the hospital,
Missing it could be fatal… to the depression, he’d hurtle!
His mind’s confused; it does justle and jostle …
Poor old sausage… he worries more than a little!

Before the stroke, he was no mathematician…
Now he needs the help of a physician…
What can he do? He struggles in making a decision!
Mind blanks and tumbling seem his new religion?

Appointment with the can’t test him yet, optician,
Cataract ops first to correct his vision.
Same with his local dentician…
Good job, he hasn’t got a cosmetician! (Haha!)

Small print from the NHS and bank in unison…
This means letters and texts have little comprehension,
Causing the lad even more worry and tension,
He really needs looking at by a diagnostician!

He drew his fretting to the attention of the warden,
Feeling embarrassed, to him begging, is alien…
Warden Deana arrived for a helping me out session,
Who arranged transport for me? My thanks and veneration!.

Then, he felt cared for and cheerier, no question!
So, time to fret over other things, like his fundoplication,
shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Little Inchies Fungal lesion…
And the Cataracts forthcoming double operation…
Hid new rear-end boils, a painful conglomeration…
Also, Inchcock’s ear-holes blockage and tintinnabulation…
Worry about his glaucoma and banks documentation,
Not to mention his bank accounts dwindling emancipation!

Deana was his Carpathia, saving lives on the Titanic,
Although Inchie still looks like he’s going brassic…
Her help today was something of a tonic…
His life no longer seemed so chronic!

He even started whistling, although not acoustic,
It’s never been his most vital attribute, singing…
Then again, he’s always been gently altruistic,
Soft and daft as a brush from a yearling…

Inchcock’s Educationing

He missed out on schooling and educationing.
He’s never grasped algebra, geometry or arithmetic,
Yet he’s always had a yearning, desire for learning…
As a lad, he’d double pneumonia, constantly sick…
I don’t know how he ever made a living?
He was well-known as a bit of a schmendrick!
Always getting beaten up or something…
Mother ever being taken down to local nick…
He was spotty, with the littlest ever ding-a-ling…
He took a lot of verbal and physical stick,
So it didn’t bother him that he couldn’t sing.

He coped with thumps and insults from many a bully?
He was a whimp who never answered aggressively…
He plodded on, hiding from being treated abusively…
There was little he ever achieved, ruefully…
Scared of water, he played hooky every Thursday…

That was the swimming lesson day, nobody noticed…
For two years of playing hooky, he was not missed,
Dad took him to the fair and visited a hypnotist…
I think it should have been to a psychiatrist,
The 11-plus, Mummy was on the run, so that he missed,
In meaningless employment, he languished,
But he grew up the shabbiest; he became a motorcyclist!
When old enough, he became an alcoholic, always pissed!
Oddly enough, it’s similar now… he’s still not missed,
He wears protection pants; he’s pissed at always pissing!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Aha, got some photos uploaded!

I believe this was Wednesday’s nosh. Of microwave veggie sausages, disappointing Icelands crispy chips (That weren’t), and red and orange tomatoes. Not too bad a plateful. Taste: 6.6/10.

Wednesday’s sunset. I’m finding it hard to stay up for the later evenings now the clocks have been forwarded (I’ve even got all on mine done now… Haha!) Variations on a theme, I’m calling it.

Thursday morning rising.

Wen to make a brew of Glengettie. And I spotted from the kitchenette window the rather heavy rain that was raining down,

I took this shot through the narrow bottom pane of glass, camera up against the window. Gave it a different aspect… which reminded me of Grizelda (Slight movement in the lower regions).

Took the last two a few hours later on Thursday.

Incidentally, at this point, I took my eleventh wee-wee of the morning. Cor, blimey!

Three more wee-wees and an hour or so later, I went to mash the second mug (Thompsons’ Punjana this time) of tea. I snapped this one of the houses in front of the tower block.

I must say, it came out reasonably well. An accurate representation of the local dwelling at the front of Woodthorpe Court flats.

The rain was a lot lighter at last, as it shimmers on the roadway of what I think is Elmswood Gardens… a sort of modern-day Coronation Street… perhaps not!

Afternoon Chestnut Way ends car park investigation. The parkers, the red-van-man, continued with his fear of white guidelines for parking between, then I went to the kitchenette to assess the choice of vehicle colours.

The evening Carer arrived, treats were offered. Got ready to get my head down and took what I guesstimate as my 24th wee-wee of the day. Hope things calm down soon!

TTFN.

Inchcock’s Local New Snippets – Issue 11â…˜ths

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

At this time of web-searching for Nottingham Crimes & News, things seem slow. I apologise for the scarcity of murders, muggings, shoplifting, wife/partner beatings, pickpocketing, and attacks on police officers in this Issue of Inchcocks Local News Snippets. Later I had one more go…

14 months for dangerous driving,
4 months for driving while disqualified,
Four months for theft… sentencing softening?
Licence endorsed, driving without insurance, denied!
14 months for aggravated vehicle taking…
From driving for 33 months, driving disqualified,
Alongside 22-month sentencing…

Of which he will serve half in custody?
This convoluted sentencing confuses me?
Just when will he actually be set free?
Was this adjudicator just a big softy?

Mental Health! This shows how complex the job is for professionals to get right – each sufferer, possibly everyone, will have different lapses and ailments, not easy! There were no sarkies on this one after I looked up what the Priory Hospital was all about…

New Covid cases confirmed this last seven days…
For Nottingham and UK, leave me in a haze,
We are over the worst, getting better; an expert says…
Another said Nottingham cases are peaking on Monday!
You just can’t trust what they say nowadays!

Will Mr Wallace get locked away?
The Law is an Ass, just to paraphrase,
In prison now, they can order takeaways!
Mayhaps a Pizza, and hold the mayonnaise?
The police caught him, so they deserve some praise…

I, too, find loud music making neighbours annoying!
While the guests are drug and alcohol refuelling!
Partying, singing, drunk and revelling…
They think their noise is nothing but trifling…
They’ll be too intoxicated for any canoodling,
Then they may start fighting and brawling…
But working neighbours’ patience has a ceiling…
And revenge will have no curtailing!

Spoilt Brat!

I hate violence of any kind, especially against someone or thing weaker than the attacker. Whatever this dog did to annoy its owner, what he did is disgusting! The poor frightened thing! I hope the RSPCA can catch and convict the scumbag!

When sentenced, they said his smile was wide!
Well, it’ll be easier for him to get drugs inside…
His time in nick will make life simplified,
No need to go on the run; his worries have died…
Cheap drugs via visitors… sarcasm implied…
They’ll supply free meals, salads, pizzas and fried…
Doctor, dentist, I find to be undignified…
I can’t get my cataracts done outside…
Should I commit a crime and lose my pride?
Then I’ll be able to see things, with my eyes open wide!!!

Ah! Now I’m getting to the nitty-gritty crime!

I read some rubbish from a criminologist,
Who should have been a craniologist…
We should put fewer people away, they insist!
Studying criminals? Pointless, they should desist!
They’d learn more helpful stuff being an acarologist!
Then, have themselves tested by a psychophysiologist!

Can’t find what he was sentenced to, other than breaching a restraining order? I’ll do another search… Nope, can’t find owt? M<maybe he was already in the nick?

And to end…

Evening all!

Inchcock Today: Belated Photos, Comments quips and an Ode or two

/ Inchie / 16 Comments

Goodeth Morningski!

A nosh from earlier in’t week…

Odd sunsetting photographs.

Van Parking Expert!

White Van man’s excellent Parking!
Within the white lines marking!
No exit-ingress blocking!
No chance of any grid-locking,
Straight as a die, amazing…!
Very RVM (red-van-man) irking!

Blood pressure reading was more controlled,
Sys 150, Dia 71… But the pulse at 90, high-fold?
I’ll check on the web… NHS say 90 is Gold!
So today, BP returns deserve to be extolled!

The body temperature was not so good…
34.4°c, not as high as it should…
Little Inchies fungal-lesion is losing blood!
But things may get better; yes, they should…
But of that, there’s little likelihood!

Blood-Taking Dressing Removed

I thought the drops of blood on the cotton wool had created a humorous face pattern. I took this snap of it. Hehehe! There is rarely any bleeding after the magnificent, caring Nurse Hristina comes to do the blood-taking job, bless her. 💖

This is something that I look forward to!

I’m Beginning to Master the Whistling Kettle!

This morning, I even heard it!

I’ve located the inside of the fill-level marking…
Changing to reading glasses first…
If I use a torch, so I can see the etching…
So underfill it, so I can quench my thirst,
Then it gets louder… the whistling!
Trapping the finger closing the lid is worst!

Tuesday Evenings Meal

.

A treat of healthy foods tickled many a tastebud!
Fishcakes and cheesy potato cakes went down a treat!
Smoked haddock in some, cheese too, t’was alreet!
Mushy pea topping in the cakes…
Fishless fish-sticks to complete…
But I didn’t have a pud!
The meal I ate and felt replete!

Changing the bag in the kitchen bin,
Gawd strewth… what was I seeing?
Argh! An Evil Ironclad boll weevil biting beetle?
Have they returned again – bringing their teeth so evil?

I went into a Sherlockian mode, sort of preautopsy…
I got the beast out of the bin, then had a wee-wee…
So glad it was all black, due to my achromatopsy,
It was a biting boll weevil – Whoopsiedangleplopski
Seeing just the one, enough to bring on catalepsy!
A good search around, I could see no more – Whoopee!

Evening Sunset Today

The sky went from grey to this colour within a couple of minutes.

But stayed that hue for only ten minutes?

Finally, a further tribute…

Puckin Chairing a Meeting

This photo really scares me! They’re his advisors too!

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – With Odeing

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

Crime in Nottingham, enough to send you demented…
Oh, Dementia Doreen already has my mind fragmented,
Price rises on everything; I’m genuinely wherrited!
Compassion, empathy and caring have been disrupted…
No, better words are demolished and corrupted!

Police Assault Increase

Different targets, to beat-up… it’s the truth…
This will please the thirteen-year-old youths,
Who attacked and knocked out a coppers’ tooth!
Or the twelve-year-old, driving a car into a flatfoot…
A sixteen-year-old stabbed and kicked an officer, to boot!

From giving adequate sentencing, the law is abstaining…
A murderer arrested gave the officer a bludgeoning…
However, the criminal is not complaining…
He got his early release after campaigning…
Our legal system needs condemning!

Another murder?
This doesn’t inspire…
Things are getting direr…
Death by ed by fire?
Killed by a burglar?
Mayhaps a genocider?
Emotions and fear, a quagmire!
Crime, accident? I’ll hangfire

Arson?

A requirement to do two thirds?
Gawd, our judges, are soft turds!

Huh!

Top report on Covid, +22,8% new cases over the last fortnight,
Another peak will put us all in a plight…
Bottom report 40% increase… we are in the kite?
Anti-maskers again ready to fight!.

More policemen injured working,
Courts still spanking wrists, befuddling!
Got bail, free, to attack again – backpedalling?
For the police, this must be very galling!

Words fail me!

Violence is rampant now…
Take that, thump, kick kapow!
Instead of having a pow-wow,
From Newcastle to Hounslow…
Guns, knives, and fist blow…
Last week, burglars used a bow & arrow!

Was this caused by sleeping with the wrong fellow?
Or did too much-shoplifted alcohol freely flow?
Did someone not return a borrowed wheelbarrow?
A dispute over unshared winnings at Bingo?
Did one think it right to whistleblow?
Did one pass on a disease, like, impetigo?
Mayhaps one stood on the others’ hammertoe?
But I really don’t want to know…
Far too much violence and aggro!

Yep!

Inchcock Today: Diary with Odes

/ Inchie / 3 Comments

General Ode To The Day

Today, when good luck and success ran away,
Making me want to cry, die, and even pray!
It’s this horrendously-heinous Wednesday!
Very little humour, fun or flimflammery!

Problems of intense magnitude and stupidity…
Errors, Whoopsiedangleplops, and I got all forgettery…
Accifauxpas, mind-blanks, bonkerness and pettifoggery,
So much so my mind requires mental surgery!

I ended up nervous yet showing frustrated badassery!
The brain crumbled, the body tumbled…
Nothing this day was of the slightest bit ordinary,
Then the innards painfully rumbled…
My last bit of willpower crumbled!

Self-hatred, for myself, and a vile loathing…
So many failures, one in my underclothing!
But that, I’m too ashamed to be describing,
It had some occasions that were nice, touching…
But they were scarce, and so many were scathing!

Computers I should know would mock and beat me…
I thought I’d get the problem sorted, very foolishly!
I’d never have mended it if I tried until next January…
As I should have known, I just made things worse,
I sobbed, got depressed, and voiced many a curse…

I thought at one time, I was growing insanity…
Why am plagued by this unknown, unlucky entity?
It started at birth… and has grown nasty, by plenty!
In my previous life, was I a murderer, a scoundrel? Maybe…

When I’m burnt to ashes by the Brothers Baguley…
I want my mourners to know, there’s no need for sorrow,
At the moment, I’d be content, no, glad to go…
Life’s always been a battle against the flow…
I may miss cheesy potatoes, and bread, buttered sourdough,
Carers like Julia and Jilly both leave me with an afterglow. ♥

Not enough to make me stay here, though!
Life to me has been like at the Alamo…
Surrounded, outnumbered and nowhere to go,
Failings, errors, fretting, my life’s been so!
I’d hoped things would improve, but no, oh, no!

Reincarnation? That would be hard to swallow,
I might return as a soaring eagle or a brave buffalo?
Or most likely a stickleback, mousse or minnow!
See, that’s depression; I’m feeling so low…

And what’s to come later… death, maybe, yes or no,
I’ll continue as a failed saddo and fatso…
I’ll snuff-it, not bothered how maybe tomorrow?
I’ll die never having had a cup of cappuccino!
It’s been forty-odd years since I’ve been on a beano!
My friends and family will gather to say cheerio…
But there’s only three of them, so I don’t know…

They’ll search for my money, and they’ll be very thorough,
Cupboards, drawers, clothes and behind the big photo…
I don’t blame ’em; that’s how it will go…
I can’t take it with me… I don’t mean to crow…

That’s summat else, why did I live life in a constant imbroglio?
Calling things electrical, mechanical, complicated, a gizmo?
Cause the Vascular Dementia Doreen said so?
I had problems; I became an alcoholic, not wino…
Which at the time for me, was no problemo!

I danced like a three-legged drunken rhino…
The gal who said that was named Clio,
Ailments, being shot, being made redundant did follow…
Didn’t matter too much; life was already shallow…
But I’ve always been that way, uneducated and callow…

With quips and replies, I’ve been sharp, never slow,
I once nearly bought a second-hand Volvo…
What that’s got to go with this Ode, I don’t know?
I’m trying to live an inoffensive life, but whereunto?
I’ve lost the plot now. Shall I make a cuppa? Righteo!

It took me that long to formulate this Ode, so many errors, mistakes, and Mind-Blanks! The time is running out for me to get the Diary bit done. So, it will be in condensed form, sorry!

———————————————————————-

WEDNESDAY 23rd FEBRUARY 2022

A great sleep once I managed to get off. Which was at about 02:00hrs. But, I was well pleased with only jump-waking up three times. On the third, it was already 06:10hrs! So, over four hours, not bad, that. I think the Hemp seems to be working.

As I fought my way out of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner, two things dawned on me. This morning is the Ocado food delivery twixt 6-7:00hrs, and Cartilage Cathy was still as bad as yesterday. So, I took a Codeine and checked that I had not missed any calls on the intercom – I feared I would not have heard it if he had come early while I was sleeping. No missed calls on the list, so that cheered me a little.

I got the medical checks sorted straight away. The body temperature was still too low. But what should I do? It might be the machine? They tell me to ring 999 if it is below 45°c? But it’s not far off this time.

There was no hassle about the Blood Pressure, though, all looking pretty good, with SIA 152. DIA 74. and Pulse at 80. This seemed fair to me. Glad the BP machine was working after my dropping it yesterday.

Into the kitchenette to put the kettle on, and I trod on something small and challenging – I guessed right, it was an escaped garden pea gone rock hard. Hehe! Made me jump a bit! I also found a tablet?

The intercom rang at 06:30hrs, and the Ocado driver brought the bags up to the flat. Nice chap.

Got the bags into the kitchen; there seemed a lot of them today?

Sorted out what’s what and where they are to go. The frozen Heinz Beanz Burgers went in the freezer, along with the battered cod bites and fishcakes with mushy peas in them. Natoora black tomatoes, yellow tomatoes, steak pie into the fridge, with some difficulty… Cartilage Cathy was in a right rotten mood with me when I bent to get the bottom tray filled. Cor, blimey, was she! But the bending to pick up the peas and pill might have contributed to Cartilage Cathy’s annoyance. Hehe!

Then I moved on to the third or fourth bag. The black box held 12 mini-pots of M&S fruit and jelly. Which I read when ordering to be strawberry flavoured. They had actual fruit in the jelly, but one of them was the forbidden for me pineapples. On a closer look, they also had seeds in them, which will most likely cause me a toothache. They’ll have to go! I know how to live! I made a bottle of spring water up with some of the lemon and lime cordial for later.

I got some fresh garden peas and lemon and lime yoghourts too. Two favourites there!

Just after getting them stored away and returning to the computer, Everything went wrong computer-wise. The icons had shrunk, the screen had gone darker, and Norton came up[ with things that needed attention. Crapwranglers! It was all too much for me, and I ended up changing things, uncertain if I was doing right or wrong. After changing things, it was far worse. I could have cried!

I stopped making changes too late and could not work out how to correct things. I went for a break and made a brew of Glengettie, taking this photograph of the morning view, in which I caught some crows on their way to a tree-top murder in the park. Then around 08:15hrs, the landline rang out. It was the gorgeous Nurse Hristina to tell me she was coming in the morning to do a Warfarin blood test, and I’ll be back on the Enoxaparin injections.

Then it rang again, it was Nicola from Meridian, Carer Richard who was sue to do me and stay with a poorly patient. They have arranged for Carer Julie to come and do me, she’ll be here as soon as possible. Bless her! Thanked her for letting me know.

Doing the updating of the blog for yesterday and got deeper into a mess of confusion with the computer for an hour or so, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang out.

Julie got the medications sorted; she had been called in to cover. She was as sweet as ever and helped me with the computer. ♥

After Carer Julie had left, Norton flashed up again. I’d no idea what was what. Humph! Now I cannot access my dropbox or save anything to it!!! The pointer keeps changing size? Oh dearie me! I may have changed something when I had a Norton defrag? I just can’t remember what I changed…

MedPhorpainI carried on with this blog. The top Ode taking me yonks to get done. I gave Cartilage Cathy another good rubbing with the Phorpain again. This is the second day of Cathy’s hassle. Never had two days’ worth before.

I stopped computing on the blog to take a look at the food situation and catch up on what, if anything else, is due. I think I’ve ordered a Sainsbury’s order for next Sunday, but Dementia Doreen is determined; I’ll not remember. I’ll check the calendar first. I must get the ablutions done soon.

Yes, JS on Sunday. I’ll do an Iceland one for midweek. All done!

Now back on with this blog.

17:15hrs Ode

The day stopped, as frustration grew, abysmally,
But memories remained of this morning’s jollity.
Although it was just for microscopical scintillae…
I felt my depression wanting to go away…
But would it? Well, maybe one day it may…

Yet I no longer felt the self-hatred, not acidulously,
The evening Carer should soon be coming to see me…
Will they be contented, happy? Or rather grumpy?
Or a chinwagger? Who entertains me wryly?
I hope no one considers a natter avoidably!

Hopefully, one that looks after me, assiduously,
Who doesn’t mind a laugh and is not over assertively…
Carers who really care, I greet applaudingly…
And consider them to be admiringly adorably,
Like Jillie and Julie, compassionate, addictively!

I’ve got the oven on to heat up, to do the chips later, fresh garden peas and a pastie methinks tonight. But I must try not to make too much this time. Ah, it’s 18:00 now; the approx. ETA is twixt 18:00>19:00hrs for the evening carers.

I made a brew and took some photographs of the evening sun setting. Computed a little, took the mug to be washed, and took three more pictures. The ones on the left earlier ones, the right the later ones, but only by about 15 minutes. Mother Nature – absolutely Bootiful!

1848hrs: Carer Kiya came into the room. Having failed again to use the door chime… three times now. I had to ask her again, explaining that I could have been using the grey bucket… It made little difference. But she’s a confident little thing and witty with it. She let us chat for a couple of minutes, chose her nibbles and drink, took the waste bags with her without me asking, of off she went, happily.

I managed to encourage the picture ap to recognise the photo of the end car park at last. I took it this morning around 08:00hrs or thereabouts. Only just got it on the computer. I’m having all sorts of problems with it now –  a case of last legs, methinks? (Me too, Haha!)

No red van, man. Well, he might be in court; you never know. Har-har! Plenty of vehicles compared to normal in there this morning.

Got the chips in the oven, then changed my mind and pulled them straight out again. (I know, I know!) I realised just how late it was now, and I still had to finish this blog. Otherwise, they’d have been cooked to a frazzled by the time I got the blog completed, posted, the Facebooking catch-up done, and photo albums updated. Then I’ve the WordPress Reader reading and commentating to do. The read and answer to the blog comments… Good heavens, I’d better get on with it!…

TTFN.

Inchcocks Local News Snippets in Odes – Issue 4â…œ

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

Nor Human Traffickers!

Local News Snippets in Odes – Issue 4â…œ

What do you think has caused this stabbing?
The first thing that comes to mind involves drug taking,
Perhaps it could be protection racketeering?
Lot’s of affluent students in Nottingham educating?
Of course, with kids, there’ll be sex rampaging,
And students getting drunk, meths drinking?
Which is more interesting than wordsmithing!
No doubt greed, jealousy, drugs or loathing!

They say it’s the twelfth fire on this estate…
The third in two months, a dodgy state,
Most on sites involving freight…
Or waste, recycling bases, what does this connotate?
I’ll let you know if I find out owt at a later date…

The gal had been taking drugs into prison, for hubby,
Well, they are not married; they met at a drugs orgy,
Making the prisoner an awful lot of money…
Well, for highs, they both have an affinity…
The Judge showed a lot of affability…
‘Go home and give your children a big kiss?
That sounds a bit naughty and cheeky?
From a Judge? What the hell is this?
I don’t want to sound finicky…
Does he want her to supply him cocaine or a kiss?
Mayhaps on the day the Judge was tipsy?

Just to show you how I’m keeping up with my usual luck in the gambling stakes. Humph!

Well, another Constabulary mystery?
Whatever has occurred? Was it unsightly?
Something vicious, frighteningly?
Eight police vehicles attended… Getaway!
Murder, terrorists or? What unpleasantry?

Bank robbers hiding? A car with no MOT?
Folks signing into their own homes to have a brew of tea?
One more police car, and there’ll be none free!
Trouble at Mill here, I can see!

I read these figures apprehensively…
I sense a Government con here; we’ll see…
Corona Virus, all about money, money…
They’ve upped tax, food prices, and to me…
That’s what they wanted to do, disagreeably!
Help kill off the NHS… do you agree?
There are more folks with the virus around me…
Grenfell, why’s no one been punished, Lordy Me!
Tories get voted in again! They get off scot-free?
Disgusting! Absobloodylutely!

Her killer doesn’t want to be involved in the inquest of his wife, who he murdered? But you would like to know the outcome?

And he’ll be Freed to Kill Again. I guarantee it! Knowing our Parole Board pillocks!

Scumballs!

I think that Lucifer is winning.

What’s the plan, God? Got any?

Pathetic PC sentencing here, methinks?
The legal system, I believe, stinks!
Scared to death of sentencing Muslims?
I can understand that; I come from the slums…
The future scares me…
From terrorism, gangs and every bent MP,
Today’s youngsters will never be free!

At least he only threatened to kill!

That’s the spirit, Judge. Lock ’em up! Seven years equates to about three methinks. With good behaviour?

A Cruel Tax!

I am so delighted to report on this sentence.

A jury of six men and six women took two-and-a-half hours to return a unanimous guilty verdict of manslaughter on Lawson Byrd, who deliberately caused the death of 19-year-old Gianne Obafial.
But they cleared him of the more severe charge of murder. During a two-week trial, Crown Court heard how the defendant, also 19, drove at and then over Mr Obafial in Mercian Way and headed off up Abbey Street.
Giving evidence, Byrd claimed he had no intention of causing the fatal injuries his victim received. Instead, he told a jury he “panicked” after seeing ” a glimmer of metal” in the waistband of Mr Obafial’s trousers and thought it was a knife.

BOLLOCKS! If that had been true, he could have got back in his murder weapon and driven off! Judge Shaun Smith QC said: “Mr Byrd, you have been found guilty and criminally responsible for the death of Mr Obafial, but they have decided you did not intend to kill him or cause him really serious injury. The bullying toss-ball was sentenced to jail for 12 years for manslaughter.

Convicted murderers have got less. I’m tickled pink!

See what I meant above?

Spotted this on Facebook

Interestingly, I spotted the Meridian logo on his uniform. The same company that Nottingham Council uses and tend to my needs. There’s no getting bored with them. In the two months that I’ve been using them, they have failed to turn up six times. Twice coming after midday, which meant it was too late for me to take my medications… in case the evening Carer came. Hehehe! 

On two occasions, they came late but early enough to allow me to take the prescriptions. My trouble… one of many, is having Vascular Dementia, and some days, I don’t realise if they are late, and my mind wanders off. Sad, but true! If someone was to contact me and let me know what’s going off, it would help. The other two times, no one came for the morning visit at all. I often wonder if I am being charged for it? However, and notwithstanding…

The Caring Industry is like the Security Guarding was when I worked for them. Under-staffed, underpaid, and so hectic you wouldn’t believe it! So, I can relate to the branch managers and the staffs’ frustrations. People not turning up and informing you ten minutes before their shift starts, and not showing at all! The good Carers are precious but have to cover all the time for a few. Just the same with the Guards. I have some really caring Carers who call on me, so patient and understanding. The industries are so competitive, with so many available, but none can be 100% reliable. What can they do? Charging more, thus paying higher wages, is a no-no for growth. Sacking bad time-keepers would be a pleasure for some managers, I know… but things would be worse then!

So, I have empathy and understanding of these problems. But that does not offer a solution, does it? Shame!

Luckily, I no longer have to struggle with those problems… nowadays I work to walk, do the ablutions, control my dementia, the eyesight failing with glaucoma, cataracts, and saccades all to be treated with a prospective up to 43 weeks to wait for the first

cataract to be done, the wait again for the other eye to be done. Hopefully, they will be using the Phacoemulsification method. I pray they might do both eyes lens replacements at the same time.

Then, glaucoma in both eyes as well needs to be sorted. (Eye drops only, I think?) Then the saccades in the right eye.

I’ll be getting my telegram from the Queen or King by the time I get around to having all these done and get to have an eye test done to get new lenses from the optician!

You can bet the dentist, DVT, or Cardiac appointments will come when I’m having the eyes done. That happened when I had the stroke; I went back to the bottom of the list. Hehehe!

I’ll just press blindly on!

The Nottingham Lads News Snippets in Ode