Saturday 22nd February 2020
Welsh: Dydd Sadwrn 22ain Chwefror 2020
22:30hrs: I woke with my woolly nightcap underneath my spectacles, but this did not matter. I was burstingly in need of a wee-wee, fearing the uncontrollability of my situation could prove dodgy! Getting out of the £300 second-hand, c1968, grungy-beige coloured, clapped-out, threadbare, dilapidated, rickety recliner was done with more haste than was safe really! But the need for the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket), made me throw caution to the wind and I hobbled the few paces to the bucket without the walking stick… Foolish!
An embarrassing (thank heavens there was no one with me or any CCTV coverage) incident as I picked up the bucket, I lost my balance. I won’t go into too much detail, it was a bit gory! I clutched at the fireplace top as the bucket fell out of fingers, it clouted against Little Inchy and started the fungal-lesion bleeding straight away. And with perverseness, the wee-wee began of its own accord! So, there I was, knees on the fire hearth, a bruised elbow from the fall, Arthur Itis and Back-Pain-Brenda both kicking-off… and wee and blood flowing!
The first thing was to get up off of the floor. Sounds easy enough, doesn’t it? Humph! By the time I had managed to rise onto my feet, the night attire was wee’d and bled on! The photos, clock etc. from the shelf were scattered about the floor, the grey bucket lay in a spreading pool of liquid, the knee bleeding, and Duodenal Donald had joined in with the other ailments. Oy vey!
I set to, clearing and cleaning the room up. During which Anne Gyna started giving me some bother. I started with sorting out the carpet, then got the clothing off and into a bag for handwashing later. It took me about an hour to tidy things up. Then, my attentions were needed in the wet room. For medicational investigations, and bucket sanitising and damage limitational duties.
I grabbed the just charged up last night Nikon, and off to the wet room. Where it dawned on me that I had left the Bamboo socks on overnight again! What a schmuck!
I set to, having a good wash down with antiseptic-disinfected soapy water. I still felt I could smell the urine, and washed, well, scrubbed all over again.
The legs still bore the marks from my forgetting to take the long bamboo socks off for sleeping. The second night I’ve forgotten about them! I need to concentrate more now. Along with all the other ailments, I’m going to have to put up with the feeling that there are worms wriggling beneath the skin! Huh! Gruelling-Gromble-Garblisations!
I got things in a better condition, although the thought of all the extra handwashing didn’t exactly cheer me up. I could hear the horrible ‘Hum’ droning noise increasing as I spotted the delivery from last night on the floor near the door.I’ll get it opened and checked out after I’ve got the clothes in soak.
So, off to the kitchen, kettle on and clothing soaking in the bowl. Took the medications, and made the brew of Glenghettie tea.
I got the box from the hallway, and opened the carton up, to take some photographs. Unfortunately, I dropped the lens cover. As if to rub in my bad luck so far this morning, it rolled right underneath the book cabinet! Unbelievable! So very Agravannoying!
I had the torture of getting down on my knees, with the picker-upper that Jenny had given me, poke about and retrieve the cap. Getting back up again was painful, stressful and brought a Dizzy Dennis visit into the equation! What next? I’m proper fed-up!
I opened the box and took out the contents. Four pairs of extra-long Bamboo socks, and 20 hangers, with moveable hooks. They should make life easier for me… Huh, what am I saying!
At last, I got on the computer to start updating yesterdays blog. Which should have been a lot quicker than usual, with so few photographs and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters not playing up so much. But, with being held up with the Whoopsiedangleplop and Accifauxpas and sorting cleaning up after them, it was a very late start. Then, minutes into starting the post update, that sickening sensation a wet and warmth came from the lower region!
Yes, Little Inchies fungal Lesion was flowing again! Of to the wet room one more time, and it took me ages to stop the bleeding this time.
Then the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Boy, what agony that was! It was like a cement-torpedo! Took ages, moved at its own painful slow rate. And I feared the bowl might have cracked or been damaged when the ‘Thud’ was heard as it evacuated my innards. I was amazed to see only a few specks of blood, although, afterwards. I decided to take yet another Senna tablet straight away.
But, this got sidetracked when I felt the blood trickling down the leg. The fungal lesion was flowing again! The medicating was still hurtful, and my spirits sank even further! Surely this run of lamentable, abysmal lousy luck can’t continue for much longer? “Super-Depression Mode Adopted!” Well, I wasn’t too happy about the way things were going! Oy gevalt!
More medicationing and cleansing were done, and I went to make another brew. I took a photo from the unwanted new kitchen window, wit the thick-frames that reduce the light and view. I didn’t think it possible. Several blue-lights were flashing, in the distance, but somehow, I can’t see even one in the photo. Talk about my lousy luck continuing!
I took a Senna and back to the computer. Then finished off the Friday post. Then sent bits to Pinterest. A long session on the TFZer Facebooking. On the WordPress Reader section.
Graphic making on CorelDraw next. Many hours late, I gave up. Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley was at me again.
I got the handwashing done. Not as much as it should have been to do. I threw many items away instead of trying to clean and freshen them up. The new long bamboo socks are going to be fiddly to sort out, drying wise.
Then got the nosh started. Made more difficult with sodding Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley jerking me about. I had a few dodgy moments using the slicing knife on the mini-tomatoes, I shouldn’t have bothered really, they taste so bitter and foul.
I thought about writing to the Co-op, and asking them why they put them on Special Offer at £1.50, but it is obvious, so I didn’t! As their TV advertisement says: “It’s What We Do!” I wonder which pillock got paid for coming up with that inane slogan? If they want another one, that is not so inept, vague and pointless, they can get in touch with me, I’ve got a few ideas they can use! Oh, yes! Back to the nosh, I got carried away again there, sorry. The putrid Tunisian ‘Fairtrade’ tomatoes, pork pie meat, beetroot, and some selected* McCains oven chips.
Oh, and the medications, with another Senna added, 
to move things along easier! Haha!
*I use this word, as I had to pick out the chips that did not have black-spots, bruises, or fusarium! It took me a while, cause more did have a disease than didn’t! Still, the chosen ones were nice enough. Just how does that McCain slogan go? “Chip Perfection, with fluffiness and crispiness in every chip!”
Blow me, I got sidetracked again!
Anyroad up, it tasted good enough for me. Not counting the lousy, yucky, horrid, gross, fetid, acrid, rancid, bitterly sour, tomatoes from the Co-op. (It’s what they do, you know! Tsk!) And the dithering hassle of examining each chip for blight or black spots before stuffing it in my gob! But don’t think I hold any bitterness toward lying McCains (To deliver our ambitions, McCain Foods Limited (“McCain Foods”) is led by its Global Management Team, with oversight from the McCain Foods board and ultimate governance provided by the board of McCain Foods Group Inc. (The McCain family holding company). Or the Co-op. who supplied me the rancid tomatoes in Sherwood, a shop I was manager of in 1967!
But some of the fodder went down well, eventually. Haha! Taste-Worthiness: 2.5/10. Obviously, it was cold by the time got to checking beforehand and eating every chip, and of the tomatoes, distinctively feculent taste, both ensured an overall low score for flavour!
I got the pots washed, as the ‘Hum’ started to get so loud again, it drowned out the noise of the rain! So, I got the headphone on, the TV going and found some interesting stuff to watch.
I fell asleep during the first set of commercials. Woke up a few hours later, put the DVD on to watch some Rumpole of the Bailey DVD. Fell asleep within minutes, woke up after all three hour-long episodes had finished. At last, I thought this is no good, and remotely turned off everything and went to go to the wet room…
I attempted to rise from the £300, second-hand, c19687. none-working recliner. But I’d still got the headphones on! Humph! They were pulled off, then they hit and knocked off the bottle of spring water from the Ottoman, bounced onto the rickety recliner, and the extension cable came out and dropped between the two chairs! My discontentment level rose to Defcon Two! Hoping that they had not broke, and not looking forward to having to get myself down to find the cable under the chairs, which would no doubt need moving, I got the stick and poddled to the Porcelain Throne! (I believe some pugnacious language may have been silently muttered, en route).
I got settled on the Throne, feeling annoyed with myself, but moderately confident, that having taken three Senna tablets, things would be far less painful for this session.
Amazingly there was little pain at all. Cause nothing moved again! Proof of my negaholism being more than warranted, but guaranteed! Horrible-hateful-habitualnesses-hound, me! I waited so long and yet had a fear of a movement getting stuck part-way again, and needed painful input from me. And more bleeding and a form of agony that takes some matching. So, I chickened out, had a wash, and returned to the recliner.
Then, the headphone and cables retrieval task lay ahead of me. But, my EQ told me to stop moaning and just get on with it, carefully! So, I did. problem. By the time I’d got all three rescued:
- I gained some scars on the lower arm from getting it trapped as I pulled out from between the chairs with a cable, then Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed! I dropped it!
- I got the picker-upperer and tackled the job from behind the chairs. Complete failure!
- I tried from the front, and to my surprise, got one cable and a connector saved!
- The others were further away. So I cunningly thought, the wooden walking stick might reach them – and got down again – this had a modicum of success, I retrieved another connector cable, leaving just the one left to get at! Stupidly, I adopted a smug mode!
- Then, the agonalistical getting back up off of the floor, left me with a bruise on the shoulder and leg, Arthur Itis, Back-Pain Brenda and Hernia Henry all giving me some hassle. It also took me no end of time to get up.
- Next, as got down for the last time, and inserted the longer wooden walking stick Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley shook! Hence I now have a shoulder, the chin and my left wrist having joined Arthur and the others in giving me some more discomfort!
- Eventually, after many failed tries, I gave up, deciding to try again tomorrow.
I decided, no matter how late it was and done-in I felt, a mug of tea and a painkiller was in order! I got up, with the aid of the four-pronged walking stick and the Ottoman; it was a painful exercise, but I was feeling a smidge proud of my efforts.
I got in the kitchen, and it dawned on me, that some blood was on my hands. A bit of a mystery at first where it was coming from. After investigating in the mirror, I found two options for this. I’d got blood coming from the nose, and a tiny scratch on the left wrist. So, I could take my choice. Hahaha!
I was not doing too badly really, apart from the pains. Even I had to laugh! Especially when I thought, why did I put myself through all that? The TV and DVD I can live without, I could have bought some new headphones! Mind you, they still had to got out from the protective clutched of the £300, c1968 second-hand recliner, and the £20 second-hand c1959 armchair, with it’s broken stump-legs!
I made the brew, and brought it with me, depositing it on the Ottoman.
I fell asleep without touching the tea.
But with so many aches and pains accrued in my battle with the chairs and headphone pieces had ensured I was woken up so often, I didn’t get to sleep properly for hours.
Every time and there were so many, that I woke up, the ‘Hum’ made sure I was not lonely.
Life can be so cruel at times. But, Hey-ho!
02:00hrs: This time, when I woke, there was no mind-storm, and the damned ‘Hum’ seemed to be so much more noticeable and loud! The innards abruptly started to churn and rumble. Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley and Shaking Shaun almost shook me out of the £300, second-hand recliner! That was the end of any thoughts of going back to kip again, although the body wanted to, the twisted-tormented mind decided it needed the body to rise up for a wee-wee. So I got up!
Not an easy task this morning, with Shirley and Shaun, shivering and shaking away with a high degree of determination. Using the walking stick was farcical, even comical, as I leapt all over the place. I nearly had myself over a few times, dropped the Four-Pronger and almost lost my balance. All within the few steps to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), where I had an SBTSDWS (Started-Blasting-out-Then-Stopped-Dead-Within-Seconds) wee-wee. T’was then I realised the time and remembered all the waking-ups, and scribbled some notes adding to the list of reminders.
About done in now. I went to the kitchen to get a brew of tea and sort out what medications I had missed or not. 
look good. (Haha!) The black tomatoes were really-good as I moved the tray to the recliner and got sat down, dish on the knees, and the moment I took the first mouthful, the intercom flashed and rang! 
I was doing the washing up, and the sharp serrated knife (thank you Nicodemus Neurotrammiter!) slipped from my grasp, hit the drainer and bounced towards the floor. I actually remember feeling a little chuffed with myself for getting out of the way rather nattily and avoiding the blade, I thought! But, could I find the mysteriously vanished knife to retrieve it? Nope! Well, not for ages. I actually moved this bin above several times in the search for the blade. I spot it, a long time later. Surprising, the knife fell in the optimum place to be camouflaged perfectly! Hahaha!
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. 
I hobbled to the kitchen, and became aware that Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna, Toothache Tim and Back-Pain-Brenda were all being good to me? Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and Shaking Shaun were, however making up for the absence in severity, of the others. 
I got the kettle on and took the medications. Took a photo, then made the tea, and as my extraordinary experience of good luck has always been followed by going back to my usual jinxed-misfortunes, but worse ones, I fetched the milk from the fridge, and returned it, circumspectly, wearily and carefully! Thus avoiding any lachrymose moments. All went well! 
After the two previous difficult to move evacuations, this one started off the same, solid as a rock, nowt moving! I got on the crossword book puzzle. I was not expecting things to shoot out so easily and quickly. But, once it started, painfully, mind you, and of the innards own accord, it was a few seconds, and I heard the ‘Splosh’, all over! A fair bit of bleeding, but no messy attributes. I cleaned up and returned to the computer. 
unexpected late version and had a go at the crosswords. While loquaciously nattering away to myself. Nothing happened. Mmm! 
I went on the TFZer Facebooking. Then on the WordPress Reader.
they swallowed every day. That’s my view, and brew anyway! 
d. With the camera in my hands, and taking this photographicalisation of the tray? Yet, instantly, I took in the situation and could remember telling Dr Vindla of a similar incident I suffered a month or so ago, during my visit to see her last week
01:05hrs: I woke to the sounds of the blowing winds, rain hitting the windows. And I could still hear the flipping ‘Hum’ from the inside at the same time! Oy-oy-oy! A wee-wee was needed, and it was growing more urgent second by second. The battle to get out of the second-hand, £300, c1968 recliner, was a struggle. During which it came to light that Back-Pain-Brenda and Anne Gyna were both going to be a hassle today. But thankfully, Arthur Itis seemed a lot easier on the knees! The toothache appears to have eased off a tad? I’m not complaining about that! 
the cadaverousness-bloodlessness had returned. With a few extra lumps, clumps and blood-papule growths more prominent today. The legs were of a different size to each other. The worrying signs of cramps around the shin area… but why can I not recall having any pains during the night? I pondered on trying to understand the when what and why for’s. Why should I go through the cupboards and draw, leave the mall open, and get my head down again? My IQ interrupted, with a sort of; “Forget it, at least whatever happened, you got through it uninjured!” He rounded off his statement with snide-snigger! Which made sense to me. 
smitions were both being so kind to me! Yee-Ha! 
continuum. With illusion, delusion, & hallucination, rife! Hey-ho!
Then, the planned amble to the bus stop became another challenge to overcome. The nasty winds did their best to send me back to Woodthorpe Court for a time, then fell-off as quickly as they had started! By the time, a few minutes only, that I got to the bus stop, the winds returned. Then packed in again? 
I walked the periphery of the Square and crossed over South Parade on my way to the Poundland Shop. 
I had help from the same kind lady in putting them through for me. (I got a look from her when she put the ‘Man Perfume’ through the till, that said; Ah, bless him!) I gave her a can of Gin & Tonic in thanks. Then out back to the Slab Square. I took a zoomed-in shot of the flag pole on top of the Council House, that had been bent over in the high winds! Oh, dear! 
The winds seem to be dying down, but no! As I made my way up Queen Street to Parliament 
weaving between the crossing pedestrians! Terrible! 
he bus stop, to take the last photo in town for the day, the wind got up again and the sun did a runner, luckily I caught it just right! Or I thought I had.
I got to three hours past my usual head-down time. 
01:45hrs: I woke with Saint Inchcock and Sloth Inchcock arguing in my head. Saint insisted we all get up and make a start on the blog and much-needed graphicalisationing. Sloth was saying ‘Soddit’, I’m staying in the recliner! However, after a couple of minutes debating and arguing with myself, the need for an urgent wee-wee arrived, and we had no choice but to get up, out of the second-hand, £300, sickeningly beige coloured chair! 
It’s just as well I did! I grappled with getting up, and on my feet, Arthur Itis was still annoyed, just like yesterday. Tsk! The GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) had not been needed all night, but, boy oh boy, was it used this time! I had to give this one a new name; a TTSLTATO (Torrential-Throughout-Stopped-Like-Turning -A-Tap-Off) mode! Blimey, it’s flaming lucky I didn’t take a water tablet (Furesomide) last night! It also stopped abruptly, this was a new style for me! I almost felt tired by the time it had finished. Still, there was no bleeding or pain with it. Haha!
I noticed that the pins (legs) were almost in the same condition as yesterday. A rarity indeed, although they had gained some colour. But that would most likely be from the evacuation farce? Then I spotted, on the lower part of the right leg, a new odd mark coming up. I thought at first it would be something that would wash off, but no! Maybe a scuff mark from yesterdays tumbles, no pain at all with it.
I got the mushrooms in the slow-cooker on low. Then made a brew, took another wee-wee, they were all of the same modes, up until no
I’d only got three done. 
The intercom flashed as I was passing it on the way to the wet room. It was the Amazon socks arriving, so I let him in and delayed the Porcelain Throne usage. He was soon up and at the door with socks for me. 
Washed the dandies, and off to the kitchen. I got the boil-in-the-bag beef and onion gravy going. Moved the mushrooms into the saucepan with the garden peas, and flavoured it with onion salt, and (unsure if this will work or not, fingers crossed) I added a jar of Korean BBQ sauce and mixed it all in well. 
I put some chips (fries) in the oven, and then got the handwashing done, rung and hung. Only a long-sleeved t-shirt and pair of socks, but I’d put a tad too much liquid soap flakes in the bowl, and needed to rinse it several times. Very agrannoing! Tsk! Surely even I can’t have a run of bad luck as long as this? But it got worse! 
02:05hrs: I stirred, glad to be free of the nightmare I was having, it was all ackamarackus. For a few moments, the brains thoughts were fissiparous, and it took a while to gather them into a semi-coherent order. There was no thought-storm as such, just that I had difficulty in controlling the little wandering demurral 
Got the kettle on, (I very nearly had an Accifauxpas when the neurotransmitters failed while I was filling the pot), took the medications and made a brew. The knees were most bothersome this morning, so I nipped to the wet room and gave them a good massaging with the Phorpain Gel. 
I was miffed with myself when I realised that I had done a stupid thing! Even after so many warnings from the clinic staff, I had fallen asleep with the Bamboo diabetic socks on! 
Ablutions to do, so off I trotted off to the wet room. 
The story of this session really deserves a blog of its own! After the showering, even I found it hard to believe the things that had all gone awry! 
I called into the ILC’s Holding Cell and Interrogation Office, dropped off the weekend treats. Through the Social area and in the link-route to Winchester Court. I spotted this through the window, and thought of a funny! 
I got into the lobby and sat down to read the Nottingham City Homes monthly magazine while I waited for the bus to arrive. I went out to the bus shelter. Arthur Itis was not pleased with having to get up again. Hehe! 
Malcolm. Most folks got off in Sherwood, I stayed on until Daybrook, where Malcolm also got off. We both went to the Sainsbury’s store. He left for dead as he shot off. Well, he’s younger, fitter, more prosperous, more intelligent and better looking than wot I am. Gawd, I hate him! Not really, only joking. 
I checked the time as I left. I’d just missed the L9 bus. So I hobbled into Arnold, intent on checking if Iceland had any tins of potatoes back in stock. (Although I had just bought some from Sansbury’s, I expected Iceland would not have any – I was wrong!), then call at the Mobility Store to see if they had got any of the extended foldable picker-uppers in stock yet. I thought I might call in a shop on Front Street, to see if he had any dark brown throws in, however. All planned out, it shook me as well. Har-har! 
I plodded on towards Iceland. I spotted these ‘Yankee Candles’ in a shop window. I put the photo on here, to show my beloved Troll Free Zone cyber friends, and hope they can tell me about them. 
while on special offer. I bought six cans, aware that getting home safely carrying them may prove fatal. Hahaha! 
optimum balancing act, so I could get them home. 
I made my way with some haste, such as was available with the over-burdened trolley full and bags hanging on the handles of the three-wheeler. Which wasn’t too keen on going up or downhill, without wanting to topple over! 
Back home at last! I got off of the bus after the others, only two of them this time. No one to chase after for a chinwag. I turned back and took a picture of the L9 at the stop. The cars parked all around half on the pavement. But this problem will not go away until the poor devils get more parking spaces, but there is no room to put any? One day someone will get their vehicle hit by a bus, fire-engine or another car. Maybe someone will get knocked 
over because of having to go in the roadway to get around the vehicles with the trolleys, disable scooter or shopping trolley. It’s a problem! 
Dennis tomorrow!
The lads who had been working on the 12th-floor lobby were either on their lunch break or on strike! Hehehe! 
I was so glad to get back, it’s been a frustrating trip out. I found myself singing when I got inside?
finished it, I was all-in! Weary, and ready for something to eat. So, I was going to get the meal sorted out. 
A reet-feast was made. Smoked Haddock, whiting in batter, cheap new canned potatoes, garden peas, tomatoes, a Marmite and Baby-Bell cheese disc. Wholemeal bread flaps. And fresh orange juice and Lemon Curd yoghourt to follow. I ate it all up, thought it worth a taste-rating of 7/10. 
Off to wash the pots, thought about doing the handwashing, but chicken-out. Took a photo of the sky. 
00:40hrs: I was dreaming about something or other, not the foggiest what it was: and in the world of fantasy, I realised I had to wake up for a wee-wee. A sort of twilight world for a few seconds, I was dreaming, but aware that it had to stop and I’d have to get up for a wee-wee? Which I did, much to the displeasure of Anne Gyna and in particular, Arthur Itis. 
d wobbled-limpingly to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket). I really was caught out with the ferocity of the action! But it
Then, in an instant, I needed to go to the Porcelain Throne, and only made it to the wet room with seconds to spare! Phew! What a messy affair it was! Lots of cleaning up to do afterwards, Phwert! 
Normal-kneed persons: They miss the pleasure of diurnal searching for changes. The unpredictable Clopidogrel lumps, blisters, thrombophlebitis. The blood-papsules, weals, scars, bulges, spots, bruises, welts, contusions, blemishes, dapples, maculations, and assorted findings. Not to mention the artistic 
I got on the computer, and did a graphic, and started on this blog, getting up to here, and it dawned on me; “You #@‡⊗%, Klutz! You’ve not finished yesterdays post off yet!” 
my socks on by then. I put the socks and towel on the flat airer to try and dry them off over the day. I dried myself again, on the other sheet, put some other socks on, wiped the shower chair and almost cried! 
I assumed this on the left, is the new fire alarm on the ceiling, no wires attached yet, but perhaps they are above the new false roof they had been 
Where I fear I discovered I had made a cock-up with the timing! The receptionist frowned, and asked me what time my appointment was for? I replied full of confidence, “Ten o’clock!” As she perused her listing, it all came back to me! It should have been 08:30hrs! How the hell I got this wrong is beyond even me! The receptionist rang the podiatrist to see if she could fit me in. Then directed me to wait in a hidden corner passage chair until they found out if I could be accommodated, or not!
I thanked the receptionist on the way out, and I decided I had been lucky in the way they had treated my obliviating. 
My spirits rose a tad, as made my way to the bus stop, to hibernate away in the flat, and get some blogging and graphics done, or at least try to. 
new Woodthorpe Court tenants were there, no, one of them. She seemed a lively sort of gal. Quick-witted. As I took this snap from the bus stop, I realised that the Booze Shop on the corner of Hall Street had closed down. Another Sherwood shop kicks the bucket. Oh, dear!
Our bus arrived early, and we all climbed on board and were soon back at the flats. I got off last, to avoid catching anyone with my wheels, and Panny and the new gal were shooting off, I tried to catch them, but they were too fast for me. So I shouted out, “Oy! Zola Budds, hang on!” To my utter amazement, they did! But getting between two chatting women is a scary thing! Hahaha! They soon got ahead of me again. But Penny waited and opened the swipe door for me, bless her! ♥ After the other lady got off, Peny spoke to me for the 35 seconds it took to get to my floor. We said our farewells, and I got back to the apartment. 
Made a mug of tea, and took the afternoon medications. Then on the computer to sort the photos and update this blog. It took me a few hours, then I tried to get some graphics done. But the weariness befell on me. 
Washing up, I dropped the mixing bowl, Humph! Clearing the mess up I’d made took a while!
However, despite my hindrances and faffing about, my meatless meal went down a right treat 
I washed the pots, then took a snap of the evening sky. The sun seemed out a little late?
(Tue) 21:50hrs: Earlier in the day, I had a tumble, and got my head down early, hence the odd waking time. I felt much better after four hours uninterrupted kip. I was pleased to remember that I had the Doctors appointment coming up, and decided to go through the notes I had written to remind myself for the visit to see Dr Vindla, in the morning at 10:00hrs. 
Huh! Could I find them? No! I went to search in the three-wheeler guider trolley, in case I’d put the notes in it, so I wouldn’t forget to take them. I got distracted when I found a letter and leaflet from Nottingham City Homes, had been put through the door.
I couldn’t help but see the funny side of one bit of advice. Know your escape routes in case you need them in an emergency – and make sure everyone who lives in your home knows how to escape! (All sensible stuff!) 
In the envelope were a Newsletter and a Notice of ‘Variation of the terms of your tenancy’. I was not up to reading it all, though. Some jiggling and rewording had been done. Sadly, some additions, covering rent payment, Knives and weapons, electrical supply meddling, door closers, gas canisters, failure to allow access to contractors, safety checks. For sprinklers, alarms, carbon monoxide checks, and Do not block any ventilation or extraction fittings. The Nottinghamian tenants sound a dangerous bunch, Haha! 
Put the handwashing to soak in the bowl for after the shower and shave. 
I hobbled up the hill and down into Carrington. The famously snarled up traffic was going on later than usual? 
young ignorant son of moron came so close to hitting me from behind as he belted by me! Still, it didn’t bother me… much! 
Unfortunately, as is usual when I start to get confidence or contented, something puts me back. In this case, I wobbled a bit going out of the car park and clouted my already Rheumatoid Arthur Itis suffering right knee against the brick wall, as I stopped myself 
going over. But hey, I wasn’t too bothered, its only pain! Hahaha! My gay-abandonment was only dented temporarily! I turned left, and, more limpingly than normal, made my way to the 
Lidl store down the road. 
close call with a Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist! 
I went up in the next free list with Betty. We enjoyed a natter, mind. 
overshopping, I thought.
Then sorted the nosh. Bit of a feast, but I made too much of it for the stomach to cope with. (Again!) The waste bin took care of the uneaten stuff. Regarding the potato and cheese croquettes from Iceland, don’t bother trying them, folks! 
I did the washing up and took a snap from the unwanted, light & view-blocking, photography hatingly designed with wide sticking out ledges so one cannot see below, thick-framed new kitchen windows. I 
00:05hrs: I woke, with a picture of phlebotomy Nurse Christina in my mind. She is due to call today, I think, I’ll have to check later. No demands for any bodily releases? I was moving freer this morning, I was out of the £300, second-hand, unpleasantly, grubby beige-coloured recliner, up on pegs, stick in hand, and moving to the kitchen, within three or four minutes. Smarmy-Swank-Mode engaged! 
Back to the kitchen, made the tea, and took the ever-dwindling supply of medications. I must ask the Nurse to ring the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for me. To find out if the prescriptions (that are late again this month) are coming. Or, do I have to go to Carrington to collect them. This thought made me check on what time Christina is coming. I went to check the diary. Oh, Grumpworthiness! She is not coming this week, it’s next Tuesday! Grrr! 
The moo0nb was lingering on well this morning, I thought. So, I took some photographs from the heart-rendering hated kitchen window. Two of them have the low, late moon on view.
I came out of the wet room, all refreshed and feeling betterer in temperament than I did earlier. So, 
a brew. Why I even remembered to pick up the paper when the tiles had dried. Oh, Yes! Smug-Mode-Assumed!
Off to the wet room again. When I got in, the heat hit me, and the thought of ‘What the ‘eck are you doing, Inchcock? This flaming convector heater in the wet room is costing a fortune, and here you are drying your thin dressing gown with it! So, I moved it onto the flat airer, and put the t-shirt in the airing cupboard! A rare moment of logicalness there!
Back to the wet room, to check for any bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion. All was clear, I also inspected Harold’s Haemorrhoids. No leaking there either. The warm wet feeling baffled me? While there, I had a decker at the pins (legs). Amazing! They were still pale, a few more lumps courtesy of Clopidogrel, but the surprising thing was, the blood papules had all but gone, and they only appeared yesterday! I think? 
Had a Dizzy, tumbled, cracked head, not good. Must get rest, made Dagwood type sarnies, sat down and ate them. Must feel alright for visiting the Doctor in the morning. 
Put the things in the bowl to soak, and took a snap of the impressive clouds.