Sherwood’s Sunset, daunting, yet so picturesque,
Almost like it was designed by an artist…
With the aid of an abstractionist?
Believe me, viewing it, I heard a clarinettist…
Playing Stranger on the Shore, perfectionist!
The scenes almost spoke to me,
My worries were replaced, temporarily,
I began to think, rather melancholily…
When I snuff it, I’ll miss these sunsets, sadly!
For all my worries and ailments, I feel lucky…
Though I may be writing circumlocutorily…
In bad odeing too, but that comes naturally,
It brings on a desire to be conciliatory!
And admiration seems so obligatory!.
At this moment of photographing…
I don’t want to visit Beijing,
Go skiing or backpacking…
Have sex, or go mountain scaling,
I made a spot of decision-making…
Enjoy nature; I find it so enthralling!.
Hello, the cold rains started drizzling,
The winds are getting up, more nature enabling?
This means other worries are expelling…
The thought of getting back to normality is dismaying!
Back to the day to day stuff means disentangling,
Pleasures of Mother nature at work, disengaging…
Making a brew, having a wee-wee – blood-curdling!
I think it’s time I went for some counselling?
At first, I thought I’d have a hamburger or fishburger,
Noe in: So I had chips & sausages and a shandy lager…
As meals go, this was a fair pallet-pleasing humdinger!
After three on the trot, each a taste-bud slaughterer!
Good heavens, the end car park showing activity!
Vehicles moving, I think I can see three,
Of course, there’s the red van parked clumsily,
Well, goodness, gracious me!
Another car coming in, do you see?
Much more of this, they may make a fee,
But it’s nice to be able to park for free!
I took more snaps, first one up the hill to the park,
Going up there once, I saw a woodlark!
Can’t get up the hill now, I have to remark…
Facts like this you have to get used to – although stark!
Later I took the one above, of the skies so azure.
It’s nice to live in sight of such nature,
And images, still be able to capture…
Natural beauty almost sends me into rapture!.
The later sunsets, beautiful!
17:00hrs: Sunset from the kitchen window.
17:12hrs: Sunset from the balcony.
17:20hrs: Sunset from the balcony.
Inchcock – Beyond help now? Hehe!
Amazingly quick changes, that I did see, Nature always seems to impress me… From the skies, animals and how often I have to wee! Sometimes from humanity… I wish somehow I could flee… Then someone’s so kind to me… I’m very confused, I think you’ll agree?
This semi-political Local News Snippets Report,
Is unsuitable for any laughter-unliking spoilsport,
But suitable for anyone liking jolly fun and rapport!
With comments that offer humour in their retort…
This way, cause Inchies taking Morphine and Ocu-Cort®,
With Prednisone® and Methylprednisolone in support…
I must remind him of his next visit to court!
Well, not good news to view,
Wearing a face mask… are you?
We’ve been told that we should do!
No? Well, then you bloody-well ought to!
New cases in Nottingham. The last 7 days is 1305!
How many of them in a week will still be alive?
Not wearing a mask? How many lives will you deprive?
By permitting the new Omicron bug to thrive?
Anti-maskers?… Time for firmer punishments to arrive!
Seems to me that Tories defunding the Constabulary, And increasing the pretend policemen auxiliary… Has increased the amounts of muggings and burglary, And their success in convictions has dropped, similarly, By their softly-softly approach and being conciliary, And poor Ethsham Ul Hag Ghafoor’s heartbroken family
Has owt gone more warped, diseased than Joe Public?
Shoplifting, driving with no insurance, licence, dogmatic?
More murders, stabbings, muggins, they go at it,
Youngsters mope around, cunningly looking apathetic,
More morons on, than off drugs, and antisemitic,
Yet ready to fight anyone else who’s anti-Islamic?
Gobby, and leery to the point of being semantic,
Yet they unhappily don’t stop acting demagogic?
No desires to learn and be semasiologic,
They take any drug they can steal, but just a tick…
They could get from, say, mushrooms a similar kick?
And get them free from the wood – the type that is magic!
I know I don’t get out much nowadays,
And when I do, I get the shakes and mind haze,
Or fall over and put me in a daze…
For months now, and this may amaze…
I’ve not seen a uniformed policeman in over 120 days!
The gal was just going for some milk & bread,
But she had to meet with this druggy instead!
Who bashed her about her head…
Threatened her with a knife, it’s been accredited…
Said he’d burn her face, that already bled…
He should be taken quietly to an allotment shed…
And hopefully, they’ll find his mangled body later – Dead!
I thought wearing a mask was to prevent you from passing it on?
But who knows with this new Corona strain, Omicron?
To me, it’s sensible to put a facemask on?
Has all compassion and caring now gone?
It matters not where it came from, China, Africa or Saigon…
Proof again, humans have less compassion than a Klingon!
This one (Statement) must have taken a lot of working out,
I imagined they would come up with some cringing words…
Two days it took the get it out…
This is what they said…
Shit, I can’t find it now! That wasn’t the statement, Hehehe!
Well, well, well!
Did you see that they used a photo of two Police Officers…
In Nottingham? Note he is wearing short sleeves? It must have been summer when they took this photograph. Cause, apart from when the Muslims, Black Lives Matter, Anti-Face maskers, National Front (UK), Student Demands, and any other protest group are protesting in Nottingham. I have not seen any officers for months now in the City Centre. Plenty of shoplifters, muggers, beggars, rough sleepers and the likes, though.
And I’ve got appointments not to be missed…
The Doctors, I mustn’t get a brain-fog, for the phlebotomist,
Then I’ve to go for my virus booster at the local chemist,
Got some forms to fill in with the Doctors receptionist…
Ah, and the scary, gonna hurt a lot visit to the Dentist!
Make an appointment about the Saccades at the optometrist,
January, the Deep Vein Thrombosis, and the cardiologist!…
This could happen to anyone…
Shaving and getting bloody kneed,
Peripheral Pete’s fault; Is that agreed?
Well, I dropped a razor, grabbed at it…
Never mind, you wouldn’t have believed…
The mess I got in, bloody indeed…
It’s a new body and brain that I need!
Believe it or not, Inchcock created this depiction of his Sock-Glide from memories of a nightmare, that the poor old fart suffered two nights ago. It’s so sad!
Inchcock Reveals His Current Fears!
Reading further may cause harm to your sanity!
Yes, he was young once… he still is, mentally!
Born, and got myself double-pneumonia,
Thrown in the canal, I nearly drowned in 1954,
I got rescued, only scared, wet and sore,
The medics said the boss is going to warn yer,
The Doctor said “You’ll never get brawnier”,
Next, I got shot, then the Duodenal Ulcer,
Top of the charts was ♫24hrs from Tulsa♫,
Then the hernia, and bladder cancer.
Had to have the ticker transplanted, years ago,
It doesn’t bother me now, though,
Then I went and got shot again,
I knew my bad luck had to end, but when?
I stopped working in the Security industry, then!
I came off my motor-bike in the fog,
Out of hospital, had some police dialogue,
They fined me £20, speeding, I was agog!
Got a job driving a delivery van,
And became quite a Casanovan,
Got made redundant three times, lucky man!
Retired, well it was enforced of course,
But I had little remorse,
Got a part-time job, selling pickles and sauce,
When I reached 70, we had a discourse,
Then the Peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed,
Got the tablets mixed-up, and overdosed,
They said stay indoor, well, I wasn’t opposed!
Then along came the stroke, of the ischaemic type,
Saccades, as well, of dear, this medical hype,
But I wasn’t one to moan and gripe,
I recovered, but physically, I’m a load of tripe,
They discovered I had diabetes,
Life became full of abstrusities,
My ailments seem to grow complexities.
Next, I’m using a walking stick,
Unbalanced, falling-over, it made me sick,
No choices then, at home I have to stick,
I fell, and gave my neck a crick,
I’m no longer the witty, clever-dick,
But I somehow cope, and that was fantastic.
Then along came to visit us,
The Corona Virus,
Isolation, no going out walking or on a bus,
Every day new instructions, what a fuss,
But at least I got rid of furuncle’s puss!
Until disabilities meant I couldn’t bend down,
And the worst, that really gets me down…
It’s bad enough doing your own syringes,
Is the bloody Sock-Glide, frame,
I gave it a go, I was really game,
But it keeps taking lumps out of my fingers,
And I don’t like these whinges,
Using the Sock-Glide means many cringes,
It’s not just the pain – mentally you’ll find it unhinges!
This claptrap was ritrote, written by Inchcock, with dedication and stupidity in support of the Peterborough & District Failed Philharmonic Orchestra Players, collection fund for the Bankers & Investors Roadkill Hospice Advocacy Society.
On the computer, picking at my cold sore, I drew the curtains, above is what I saw, For beauty, one couldn’t ask for more, I was gobsmacked, as I looked in awe! Life wasn’t so complicated or obscure, There was hope yet, I was sure, I forgot all about my credit score!
My zoochosis meant nothing, against this delight, Magnificent colours and bending light, Some pale, transparent, others being superbright, I took in the gorgeousness, as well I might, I forgot the hassle of Monday and yesternight. I wanted to steal this inspiration, get the copyright!
How did the phenomenon occur, I lacked the insight,
It even beats the heavenly blue moonlight,
A plane flew by, lucky devils on that flight!
Not that I don’t love the days twilight,
What an incomparable, wonderful sight,
It’s even more desirable than toasted Marmite!
Rainbow, that’s an excellent euonym,
My self-control wandered, I felt grim,
Mind facts were substituted with skrim,
Dizzy Dennis was afoot, a thought-storm brewed!
For moments the brain froze, and logic stewed,
My head cleared, after a prayer and a hymn.
I no longer drink, or use tobacco,
Don’t play any instrument, no piano,
I do overeat and love a fresh tomato,
Eventually, semi logic I did re-bestow,
Thus ended this thought-storm fiasco!
No peace, no rest, from the unbalanced mind,
Sometimes from life’s hassle, I wish I could resign,
Oh, to find an existence that is gentle and kind,
Peacefulness, tranquillity, are so hard to find,
Even around here, with its lanes, tree-lined,
Why is life, so complicatedly designed?
Have I any right, to moan and whine?
The body and brain are both on the decline,
Red Dwarf’s on the box later, so never mind!
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.
I got my balance, grabbed the stick, and wobbled-limpingly to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket). I really was caught out with the ferocity of the action! But it was short-lived, and the shaking took ages to clear everything. There might be some bother in this department later on, methinks!
I went to wash the dandies, and move the drying handwashing around.
The brain caught up with the activities, and the needs of the day flowed into the grey-cells. Got to go to the Podiatrist at Sherwood Health Centre, on Elmswood Gardens for a 10:00hrs appointment.
I got the kettle on, and realised I had not taken last nights medications! So, I took them and hoped that I would remember to take this morning’s late on. All confusing innit? Haha!
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! Having now cleaned my hands twice in a few minutes, the hands looked paler than ever. The pins (legs) had done their daily morphing act again. Oddly, Arthur Itis’s knees looked less warped than of late, but the distortions were spread over a larger area. The difference in size (thickness) of the pins was more noticeable, too. How I feel sorry for ordinary folks. Arthur Itis’s knees were still painful, even if they didn’t look to be.
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 Deep vein arterial, spider veins and the superficial venous thrombosis (phlebitis). The displays of iliac, saphenous, tibial, and popliteal veins can be artistic at times. And usually, the various signs of the last tumble. The ever-changing fluid retention. The change in leg size, one day the left can be more significant, the next morning the right one! As for the colouration, marvellous variations, although usually, they are both on the pale, pallid anaemic side. So, I’m lucky, in this way. Hahaha!
I waffled on a bit there again, sorry.
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!”
So I made a brew, took this morning’s medications, and made a start on the Wednesday updating. (Better late than never?) Got it finished eventually! Went on WordPress reader. Then TFZer Facebooking. By then, it was time to get the ablutions done, I don’t want to be late at the Podiatrist’s appointment. The wet room session went with only three dropsies! No shaving cuts either! A smugness began to creep in as I dried myself off! I casually threw the towel over the stool in the shower and got the medicating and deodorant applied.
I leant across to turn the shower off, and pressed the start button! The towel and dressing gown beneath it, copped on an excellent dousing, as did I! Luckily, I’d only got the new PP’s and 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’d been doing so well, as well!
I made up some bags for the waste chute and took them out across the lift lobby to the rubbish room. Opposite the flat hallway, the uncleaned, ornamental, decorative, aesthetically pleasing, quaint, but depressingly dull, picturesque windows caught my eye. I don’t know why I said that?
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 erecting yesterday? It looks like a complicated job they have taken on. And of course, it has to be done on all fifteen floors.
The state of the lobby carpet, we will have to put up with. The task at hand is, by nature, a messy job. So I don’t think there is much point in cleaning anything up yet… is there?
Back to the flat and got things ready for the Podiatrist visit. Set off out, through to Windood Court, and handed nibbles out to the Untersturmfhreress ILC Warden-Guards. I met Christine and an unknown-to-me lady tenant in the link passage. Again they left me in their wake. Gawd, they’re quick! I got to the Winchester Court lobby, and Angela told me that Roy had another fall and was taken into the fall-team at the Hospital. They were there for ages, it was all busy and hustle. He’s home now, but not very well. Poor old Roy, he keeps bouncing back, and long may he do so.
Out to the bus stop, a very quiet gang this morning. Malcolm giving his daily news report to the others. Haha!
A chinwagging session on the way down the hill. I think we all got off in Sherwood. I walked up to the crossing and over the road up the hill to right down to the Sherwood Health Centre, on Elmswood Gardens.
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!
Humiliation, embarrassment, disgrace, self-hatred, shame, impecuniosity, ignominy and mortification, were a few of the sensations I felt at the time! I wish I asked the Doctor yesterday about how to fight-off senility! Humble-pie replaced what mini-modicum of pride I had left! I stood humbly near the door waiting to be either forgiven, lambasted or refused treatment.
It was most likely only ten minutes or so later, that the podiatrist came to me, (but it seemed so much longer) proffering a look that said out loud; “You Clot!” My pathetic apologies and genuine excuses were listened to with surprising understanding. A warmth came over me, as she told me to follow her, adding, “Don’t Worry!” She may never know how comforting and easing that was to me! ♥ Or maybe she did, and that’s why she said the words, with a smile as well! I think she understands my addlepatedness. ♥ She soon did the feet, in record time I reckon. I gave her a can of Gin & Tonic in thanks.
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.
When I arrived at the bus shelter, the rain began to trickle down. I’d hoped some Winwoodonians might be there to catch the L9, as usual. Then I realised I was a little early. Sure enough, they started to arrive. Christine and Welsh William from the Coral bookies, then Penny and Shirley came to join us. A couple of the 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.
I took a blind shot of Chestnut Walk, as I got the nosh prepared. I took me a long time for several reasons:
The cheesy potatoes I’d decided on, needed so much work to mix and mash!
The cheesy potatoes were put in the oven to brown off, I checked on them later, and then I decided to turn the oven on!
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 Why meatless? I forgot to put the pork & pickle pies on the plate. Realising this after I’d got down in the second-hand, £300, c1968 recliner and had started eating it. And was just too tired to bother.
The cheesy potatoes, (I thought I’d made to much) was eaten with the rest of the meal, with great delight and much savouring of the great flavour. A Taste Rating in 8.8/10.
I put the emptied-with-pleasure tray on the other chair. And turned on the TV. Adverts were on at the time, as I waited for ‘The Interceptors’ program to start. Zzzz!
I woke with a start, hours later. Sure, that noise had woken me up. I put the hearing aids in and listened. Well, I had to take the dinner things to get washed, and I was not confident whether I’d taken the evening medications or not, so I had to get up anyway, and could have a look around for any signs of what made the noise at the same time. Did you note that? Logicality of thought from Inchcock – and, when he’d just woken up?
I was taking the tray with me, and the four-pronged walking stick to the kitchen. When I got a bit of a wobbled on. Resulting in my giving myself a toe-stubbing against the Ottoman. I grimaced, uttered a few silent, well-chosen oaths, and carried on, almost knocking over the corner stand of bric-a-brac and knick-knackery.
Luckily, my arm only went through the second shelf, knocking over some photographs, and I stopped myself falling onto it by using the corner of the wall, handily placed for me to use! Hahaha!
Thank heavens it didn’t go over! I’d have still been clearing it up now! So, a bit of bad (painful), then good fortune almost at the same time?
I could not find anything that might have caused the sound that woke me up, but it must have been loud to stir me from sleep with no hearing aids in, and the headphones on?
I washed the pots, then took a snap of the evening sky. The sun seemed out a little late?
I returned to 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, with its bits of radicchio in the creases still being found after last weeks Whooopsiedangleplop of my dropping of the salad plate.
Settled again, to try and watch some TV, but the mind-storming began. Eventually ~I nodded-off, and into a dream of mix-up mystifications.
01:15hrs: I woke with the mind doing ut own thing again, and I genuinely feared the worst. Yet, within a few minutes, I was battling out of the £300 second-hand recliner, had urged and forced my misshaped, wobbly mass of a body onto its feet, and did few moves, bends and wriggles to test out the ailments, and was in recent form, I thought, anyway.
Arthur Itis and Saccades-Sandra apart. All the other indispositions, discombobulations ailments and infirmities, were friendly and calm with me. Naturally, this did not last for too long. AS I moved towards the kitchen, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. (Back to normal, which is not a bad thing). So, I diverted, and within about ten paces, I was in the wet room. Bearing in mind yesterdays farcical Whoopsiedangleplop, I made sure that the stick was not left anywhere I trip over it, this time.
The evacuation almost had me cheering! It was that good! Not too big, not painful at all! And hardly any effort needed. No getting half-way and needing painful encouragement. And not messy! As I stood to do the necessary ‘paperwork’, I found there was no bleeding from the rear either!
Then I saw the drips of blood on the floor. I knew straight away, it had to be from Little Inchies fungal lesion, and it was. Heck of a state to medicate and clean.
To the kitchen and took some Moon photos.
I made some tea and took the medications. Then got the updating of the blog done. The saving was failing a few times, but this time, I thought it might be a WordPress problem? The updating took ages, mostly through having to keep stopping for Saccases-Sandra to clear. Many hours after starting, I got it finished. Phew!
08:00hrs, I went on the WordPress Reader. Then on the TFZer Facebooking. Time is my most significant bother nowadays. It takes so long to get anything done, my lack of mobility, the Neurotransmitters dying, the brain struggles to hold information, and physical activity takes so much time and is painful sometimes. The mind and body are reaching my capability and copeability level methinks.
After which, I spent many more hours on graphicationalising. Everything was taking so long to get done, with Sandra playing up, but at least the Fungal lesion didn’t open up again.
Eventually, I got started on this post. The time flew by. I went to see Josie, to check with her that she would like the Tuna with Coronation mayonnaise. But she was not in. I did some more graphicalisationing.
I ought to get the ablutions done, it’ so late now, head-down time is due.
I’d been doing the bit of cooking needed in-between computer work while Sandra was in a bad mood with me. The day has magically almost gone?
I turned everything off and got the ablutions tended to. I called on Josie again first, while I’d got clothes on. No answer again.
The legs looked a bit different again, but not bad at all. I decided to stop and get the handwashing done first, then I can Josie again before getting the ablutions done. The washing completed, and off to the wet room. Called on Josie, no luck.
The ablutions produced many dropsies. No proper Whoopsies, though. Another call on Josie, no luck. I checked on the Special tomatoes. I shan’t be eating them today.
Then got another silly idea, I could order some saucepans from Amazon. So I did. Coming tomorrow. So, another day indoors.
Got the nosh prepared and served up. I got settled in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, got the TV on.
As I was taking the first fork of food, the phone flashed into life. Unbelievable, the times this happens!
It was the Haemostasis, TV (Thread Vein) and DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) Warfarin Anticoagulation Clinic at the Nottingham City Hospital. A very kind lady, asking about my problems, questioning me on various things, in an effort to understand why Warfarin levels were so unsteady. It was lovely to have someone to talk to about medical issues. Especially being as pleasant and patient with me as this lady was. The conversation kept getting broken up by my having to ask her to repeat things I didn’t pick-up, again she was alright and unbothered by this. Bless Her! She will send me an Email with her address on, so I have it and can message her with the results of the Doctors meeting and any changes of importance. I felt honoured and well cared for.
Back to the stone-cold meal, not that there was much to harm. Only the mushrooms, garden peas and potatoes were heated anyway.
Although cold, I still enjoyed it. Smashing! A taste rating of 8/10. Perhaps the joy of speaking to someone who understood and sympathised had put me on a high? But sleep was again late in coming, although the Thought-Storms kept off.
01:00hrs: Woke, with memories of a dream I’d had floating about in the grey-cells. But they soon left, and all I knew was, the nocturnal mind-wanderings were of a likeable nature, but not the foggiest of any details, remained. Tsk!
Moments later, summoning from the inwards, advised me to hasten to the Porcelain Throne. So, I did. Which proved to be and up and down visitation. The evacuation went well enough, not too painful or messy, but it took a while and some effort.
During this, I had a go at the crossword book. And dropped it when the neurotransmitters failed in the finger-ends. I used the picker-upper to retrieve the book. I creased the pages in doing so. When I got it in my hand, a page with some of my scribble on it was on top. I’d written something about my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete; I think I wrote it when I was in the Acorn home, recovering from the stroke, so out of interest, I read it. It related to Pete visiting me there. And suddenly it dawned… I’d missed his birthday! Well, I can expect him to raid the flat again now! Hehe! He might even arm one of his drones and send it over! I must apologise to the lad. Sorry, Pete, me old mate, catch you later, I hope, Sir. I do feel a right schlemiel! I blame my doing that housework yesterday. (Red-face and shame growing!)
I took a rinse and wiped the contact surfaces, and off to the kitchen to make a brew. I took the medications.
Then got on with updating the Thursday blog.
But it was a nightmare with the amazingly crap service provided by the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, making things take several times longer than it should have. And yet yesterday, it was reasonably decent? In fact, it was to start with for the first fifteen minutes?
After about half-an-hour at it, the wee-weeing started, and it’s not stopped yet! Each and everyone was of the SSPAOQ (Short-Sharp-Painless-All-Over-Quickly) variety. But most frequent. I reckon that I must have dished the beta-blocker, in error for the Furesomide tablet! Thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for letting me down and failing to remove the Furesomide from the blister-packs in my prescriptions, as Nurse Leoni had asked you to do, and you said you would, but didn’t! She asked you again last week, and another prospectively worthless promise was received that you would on the next allocation. I hope you do get it right this time, bearing in mind you are classed amongst the top three Chemists in Nottingham by the Yell.co company. It’s only after talking with other old folks in the flats where I live about the problem that many have told me of their complaints about Boots, Llyods, and the Late Night Chemists in Sherwood. You all seem unreliable. So, how come you are in the top three? You used to be so caring, efficient, and reliable, too. Shame, a shame I can’t leave and use another pharmacist. And Boots and Lloyds are about to charge £10 per delivery.
I really went off the plot there, didn’t I? Sorry, but the annoyance of Mr Fries Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, and the suffering that Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA have put me through, gets to me sometimes, mainly when they both cause problems for me at the same time!
Now, my Grammarly keeps changing to US English, and I am so pissed-off!
As I gave up on the web and closed everything down, the landline rang out. It was Sister Jane to tell me I had forgotten Pete’s birthday. Oh, dear! ‘Trouble ‘t Mill!” I didn’t mention that I forgot my own last year! After all the help, the lad’s given me over the stroke, too. Oh, ecky thump!
I got the ablutions sorted out. The legs looked mighty fine! Dropsies that I can remember; Shaving Razors (4) Shaving cream. Teeth; toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash bottle. Showering: Showerhead, soap (3), sponge, and back-brush. Then another toe-stubbing against seat raiser. The sock-glide battle; that I had been mastering of late. Left me with a piece of the nail removed on the thumb, and a bruise on the knuckles. Also, I clouted my elbow on the sink edge, getting my trousers on! Now that’s more like me!
I felt almost happy about it! Sad, I know, but that happens to be how I think, good luck is unusual but pleasant. However, not as reliable or frequent as a good dose of my injurious calamities and failures are!
I tended to the handwashing next. A few bits needed doing, and I made a right mess of the kitchen in doing so. I was a smidge irked by having to clean the flipping floor again after doing it yesterday. A few quiet mutterings of a curseful nature were uttered. But overall, I remained in a decent enough mood with myself and the world.
When I’d got the clothes done, rung and hung, then the beep-beep hook on the coathanger with the jammie-bottoms hanging on it suddenly detached itself! And again water found its way onto the floor I’d just cleaned again! More foul language was silently-voiced, with one word coming out aloud, beginning with F!
I took a snap of the view from the unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking new kitchen windows. It looked like some rain is on the way. Pretty in a way, though. No, that’s not the word to describe it! More like, erm… I don’t know now, the name just departed my brain and off into the ether? Humph!
I got dressed and all ready for a bus ride to Sherwood. After double, treble checking things, especially the potatoes in the new small cooker, lights taps, etc. I departed. I rang Josie’s bell on the way out, but no answer.
Down and along the link-passage to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators), Wardens to us, Holding Cell office. A quick nip in and handed the nibbles out. All done in thirty-seconds, and off into the Winwood Court Social Lounge. Only one person in there, a Nottingham City Homes agent. There was a lot of them arrived today. Including the Nottingham City Homes Generalfeldmarschalless Housing Patch Manager/Catwalk Model, Angela Gould.
I got the crosswording tackled for fifteen minutes or so, did well today. Then forced the reluctant Arthur Itis’s knees to let me stand up again, and off to the Winchester Court foyer. Had a natter with Margaret, Mary, and some other tenants, then, out to the bus stop.
Got the L9 down to Mansfield Road, took a photo to the right, then the left.
I limped down to the left, to the Azam store, the one with the lime window shades, to search for some fruit and veg. But, oh, what a selection of old food at top prices they had on offer! I turned around and back up the hill and tried the Co-op shop. They had some Cox’s apples, not cheap, but they looked okay, a bag of small potatoes, a wholemeal bread thins, and some mushrooms.
I paid at the self-serve tills without any problems. Then out and crossed over at the traffic light, to go to Abdul’s shop with the Post Office in it, to get some Puff Pastry fingers.
The shop that was a Bingo and entertainment establishment had been graffitied. But not by good skilfull ones.
As I took this photo, a young Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist came by, and gave the evil eye and said something, but I could not hear what it was he said. Then casually plodded on up the hill, with his hands in his pockets, not on the handlebars.
I got to Abdul’s and got a packet of the fingers and a pack of jam tarts, £1 each. I met Welsh William at the check out ahead of me. He held the door open for me as I followed him out. We had a chat on my way to the bus stop, and he diverted into the bookies. That’s William in the light blue jacket shooting off for a flutter on the gee-gees, I imagine.
I carried on to the bus shelter, just as the rain came down heavier. Good timing! Some tenants of the flats, unknown to me by name and I had a chinwag for a while, as the bus came a little late today. But it wasn’t cold with it like it has been these last couple of days. The rain seems to have scattered the local populace.
Back at the flats, I was off the bus last as usual, to avoid banging into anyone or getting hit about. One of them waited to hold the door open for me, bless the gentleman! I did my best to catch up with them for a natter, but they were already at the end of the passage near the swipe door, by the time I entered the corridor. William was leading the charge.
I got the few things purchased put away and began to formulate what to have for today’s nosh with the new potatoes. Which incidentally were ready to go now, in the crock-pot. So I moved them in with the garden peas in the saucepan.
Then, I got the computer on and downloaded the photos to Coreldraw for resising. Then, with a certain nervousness, I restarted the Libert-Global internet and made a mug of tea, while I waited to restart hopefully.
It was just the same as before, no change. It seems to be cutting out every few minutes, but only for a few seconds, then coming back on? But, it seems, only on WordPress this time? Unless its just the timing?
I went on Facebook to test that out on the TFZers page. Got loads of photos on. But some moving pictures set Saccades-Sandra off, and now the Dizzies are back. So I’ll get the nosh made and settle down to try and rest a while.
Head cleared now, and I nodded-off (beyond my usual head-down time now) for a few minutes, I woke and went to sort the meal out.
Oh, flippin’ ‘eck! The potatoes were slightly burnt! The leeks had disappeared altogether! Thank heavens I warmed the garden peas in another pan! The saucepan had to be put down. I said a few words over it as I washed it and put it in its final resting place, the rubbish bag. A sad event, cause this saucepan had lasted longer than any other in the depths of the Whoopsiedangleplops, and the cursed Accifauxpas mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court kitchen. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! It was a veteran; it lasted the course without any damage for four months! Frogglemoths! I managed to clean the lid and kept it, in memory of the devoted pans loyalty, he’s not had an easy life, something I could empathise with.
However, I still ate the potatoes, not the black bits, mind. The feast was enjoyed, with a tinge of sadness for the saucepan. Hehehe!
Pork & mushroom pate, the lucky-not-go-the-same-way as the potatoes garden peas, an apple, a black tomato, beetroot, and the well-tasty potatoes! Lemon curd yoghourt for afters, with a bottle of fresh orange juice. A flavour-rating of 7/10.
Then, I went to get the pots washed. I returned to the junk room mark 2, got settled in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, yucky-grungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.
I got the TV on and noted that channel 81 on Freeview, a film, Crooks in Cloister was about to start. It rang a distant bell in my mind, so I decided to watch it… I nodded-off into slumberland as it was beginning. Not only that, but I slept for about 5½ hours uninterrupted!
01:15hrs: I woke up, feeling so tired still, why, I know not. But there you go! I got my cumbersome short-plump, wobbly body up, caught my balance, and without to much bother, as well! The absence of Dizzy Dennis almost made me give out a “Yee-Haa!” No wee-wee, no Porcelain Throne needs either!
Off to the kitchen, where I got the kettle on. The innards began to suddenly and importunately rumble and grumble. I hastened to the wet room and got seated on the Porcelain Throne. It was a reluctant evacuation, but nae bother, the crossword book was utilised, the pain was of a minimum, and it was not messy. Mmm, disconcerting!
Not only, but as well as and besides them, the pins (legs) were looking even better. On the verge of normalisticalistion! Well, apart from what I think might be one of the coming and going blotches, due to the Clopidogrel Clive. Even, Varicose-Veins-Victor had calmed down! I think I’ll upgrade my previous exclamation from disconcerting to worrying!
Had I woken up in another world? I clambered out of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner so easily! No dizzies, an almost routine Throne visit? Plus, Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna were giving me no hassle at all. Little-Inchies Fungal Lesion and Harolds Haemorrhoids were not bleeding! Worrying, in a way! Most incomprehensible! But, let’s give them time.
I put some leeks and mushrooms in the small crock-pot, seasoned with onion salt. Then made another mug of tea, and belatedly took the medications.
I got on the computer to update the diary, for I knew it was going to be a long haul, with my going out yesterday and the bank meeting to add. Going to be another long one, but I hope interesting for once.
The going with the updating was riddled with contretemps, ever correcting. It took hours before the internet settled into its usual slow-mode status. That, I could live with.
After a couple of hours, I went to check on the potatoes and leeks that were in the new cooker. The lid was rattling with the pressure, so I turned it down to the low setting. I poked a potato with a plastic fork, and it burst open! Blimey, that cooked quick! So I took out the spuds and used them for nibbles during the morning. I think with them being very tiny in size, is the cause of this contretemps?
Mr Fries internet was getting more reliable. But for God sakes don’t let him know, the price will go up again!
07:26hrs: 7.5 hours after starting, I finally got the post finished. Fed-up? Me!
I emailed the link. Then went on Pinterest and posted some pictures. Then onto the WordPress reader. Next, the TFZer Facebooking.
At 0945hrs, I started this blog off.
I kept checking on the crock-pot, there were not many leeks left, most had turned to liquid! Humph! A right mess from the slow-cooker fiasco in the kitchen needed sorting out. Oh dearie me, yes! Decision time again! I didn’t want to turn off the computer and go off itself again. But I wanted to clear the mess up. But I had to get the ablutions done first, so I looked semi-respectable if I met anyone. The black bags needed sorting and getting rid off. The kitchen floor needed a good mopping up. So much to get done… but excuses, I can’t see myself feeling as fit as this again. The head was spinning a bit now, with unbelievability.
So, I closed all the programs apart from the internet itself. WordPress, Coreldraw, Hippo, and Word. And put the machine in sleep mode. Then got the ablutions done, I need the Porcelain Throne again anyway. The ablutionalisationing session went well. Any more good luck, and I may have another stroke or heart attack, this is all unnatural). Fair enough, the dropsies were frequent, there was no bleeding, dizzies, toe-stubbing, or knocking over anything. The sock-glide battle as an injury-less draw. There were a few mini-knicks when shaving, though. To be expected.
Got the togs to wear ready, and visited the wet room. I should be back in a few hours, providing I don’t do anything silly, like sit down and fall asleep (which is already tempting me, so as I can avoid the cleaning and mopping up. Haha!), or snuff-it. TTFN.
(Well, I didn’t make it back until I woke up Friday at 01:00hrs. Humph!)
Having been refreshed,
I got myself dressed.
Work needed doing, there’s no rest,
Sorted the filled box’s, tied em with string,
Sweep the kitchen the next thing,
Then mopping to do, Arthur Itis started to sting,
Left it, for now, good thinking!
So, I stacked the box’s, on the trolley thing,
Out to the lobby, the lift did arrive and ping,
I got into the cage, no box’s tipping,
To the lobby, and to the caretaker’s den,
I wouldn’t like to have to do this again!
Robert, (or is it Steven? Oh, the brain!) helped me unload the things and we had a little natter. I told him of my crock-pot disasters, and he told me of some he’s had. Nice to talk!
Back up to the flat, and tackled the mopping up of the filthy kitchen floor. I had to change the water in the bucket twice!
I clouted my ankle a few times, and at one point, all the signs of the peripheral neuropathy right-leg were building up for a Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dance showed. The almost intangible tremors around the right knee and the hip shakes are usually reliable indicators. But not this time, thankfully. Which with me mopping, a dance now, could have been dangerous. Another spot of good luck for me. This out of the ordinary, idiosyncratic run of uncustomarily good fortune, to be honest, scares the living daylights out of me. It’s just doesn’t happen to me?
But the floor didn’t look bad after I’d got it done. It was worth annoying Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna a bit. (Liar!)
While the floor dried, I went down to the Hauptsturmfuhreresses Holding Cell and Office, with the last of the Easter treats. They were busy, and my EQ told me I was annoying them. But, pole-dancer and Warden Deana, did pose for me to take a snap of her. I thought she looked just like my Sister Jane did, fifty years ago! A quick natter and I returned to the flat.
I went outside on Chestnut Walk, back to the flat, so I could take some photographs of the buildings. Not received any for a while now, with all those days being stuck indoors over the month. Thanks mainly to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for being late with my prescriptions and leaving me without painkillers and beta-blockers for five, no, six days! Just thought I’d mention it! I wonder if the next months will arrive on time? The Medicine Management lady, Leoni, who I complained to, told me to ring them when I get to my last weeks blister-pack and remind them. Very helpful, professional and useful! Especially as she knows I am almost deaf! I wandered-off the plot there, sorry.
As I ambled along in the cold sunshine, I took these pictures along the way.
I got back to the apartment and remembered to take the original crock-pot to the waste-chute room, as told to by Stephen (or Robert?) earlier, for him to kindly collect and dispose of for me.
Weariness and fatigue dawned early again. I locked the flat door for once so that I would not be disturbed by anyone coming in, for I felt the need for sleep to be needed, more than usual.
I got the meal prepared and served up. Those wicked, unhealthy Frikadellens, done it the oven, and caramelised onion chutney slathered liberally on top of them (Evil-chuckle), garden peas, much-overcooked but still tasty leeks, a sliced black Natoori tomato, and four mushrooms done with balsamic vinegar, and a few mini new potatoes. With a luxurious lemon-curd yoghourt for afters, with a bottle of fresh orange juice! Bu gum, I relished that! Flavour rating of 9/10 given! But, I must resist the temptation to have Frikadellens again for a few months, cause despite the fantastic taste, they are really not healthy at all!
I got the pots washed, thought about doing the handwashing, but didn’t, and got my head down, turning the telly on. I had one programme I wanted to watch, then I could nod-off.
But while watching the alien documentary, I sensed a flashing light coming from the hallway? I whipped off the headphones, and could hear a squeaking, whiny noise?
As I fought my way out of the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, and made way, hobblingly and hanging onto the walking stick, to the hall. I still managed to give myself a sickeningly-sharp toe-stubbing against the Ottoman! I found the smoke alarm going off on the kitchen ceiling. There was a recorded message, that was the squeaking, whiny noise I heard I assumed. It repeated a few time before stopping. I caught a few words of the recording, ‘No action is needed’, I hope. So, I reckon it was an alarm test. Indeed, no smoke or fire around anyway.
I got back to the recliner, limping a little more painfully now the middle toe had had another bashing from the stubbing!
This palaver made getting to sleep again, harder. Humph!
21:55hrs: Woke with only getting up and the urgent need for a wee-wee in mind. It was nothing short of a miracle that I there on time! I struggled free from 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, hobbled to the wet room.
I fumbled to find Little Inchy (it was cold this morning, so much so, I put the wall heater on in the wet room!), and spent a few minutes painfully releasing the long, drawn-out trickle! At last, it decided to stop! What’s going on here then? The entire wee-wee would have only filled a teacup if that! Yet, the sensation felt was one that things were going to burst forth like fireman’s hose. Ah, well!
Off to the kitchen, I limped, feeling out the ailments various moods as I hobbled along. Saccades-Sandra was not too bad at all. Arthur Itis, okay. Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, Hernia Henry and Shaking Shaun all on holiday, I think. Haha! Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was a little threatening, with the odd twinge and signs of wanting a Neuropathic Dance now and then… I had to stop my diagsasticalisationing here. Caused by a tiny involuntary escapage of wind from the rear-end, followed by an urgent need for the Porcelain Throne!
I scurried back to the wet-room! Not a smooth evacuation at all. Painfull, elongated and bloody! Willing enough, but resistant to stopping! Cor blimey, I get the feeling that it’s going to be a bit of a non-compos-mentis-like, confusing sort of Monday for me! I could be wrong, the EQ was not communicating with me yet. He could be on holiday with Arthur, Henry Roger and Shaun?
I got everything cleaned and medicated, checked out the legs. They had undoubtedly lost a lot of colour and were getting back to their usual ‘Am-I-alive’ thought-prompting paleness. One leg, the left, seemed even whiter than the right one? The lumps, blotches, blood papules etc. had dissipated somewhat? Still, it makes for a bit of interest, doesn’t it?
I made for the kitchen again. Arghh!I left the hot water tap running!The ‘Feel-a-right-pratt’ mode was instantaneously adopted! Yes, this could be one-of-those days! I took the medications, made a brew, and made for the computer to begin updating the Sunday post. A decent few photographicalisations to sort out and get on the diary, caused me to get it finished a lot later than average.
I made up a photo, to show how I must have looked after I somehow or other, got the wet dressing gown to fall on me off of the coat-hangar it was drying on! I used it in the Sunday blog, but I show it again. During which, the damned annoying ‘Hum’ grew louder, and various odd creaks, taps and clicks were heard, where from, Gawd knows? These things delayed me even further in finishing the blog.
I did get done finally. Posted some pictures to Pinterest and made a start on this post. I got up to here, and then went on the WordPress reader. Then onto the TFZer Facebook page.
Had to have a nibble and brew. I’ll have a hunt around, see worra can find…
A smoked haddock and cheese risotto thingy, some of the leaves and mini tomatoes and one-and-a-half buttered wholemeal cobs, how I came to find one-and-a-half cobs, well?
Off to do the ablutionisationing. A stand-up job, too early to use the shower, and I want to be ready, in case the maintenance plumber arrives. The dropsies count was opposite of yesterday’s, where Sunday had the least ever, today might have been the most ever! As far as I can recall, the flannel, shower-head and Sock-Glide were just about the only things that didn’t slip, jump or bounce from my grip! But no injuries, so nae bother. The medicationalisationing ent well, and the body-aromatising too.
I got the handwashing done. Then made the waste-bags and took them to the chute.
Made a brew, and got on the computer, to make some graphics up to use later. The plumber and mate arrived before I could start.
I had a wobbly as I opened the door, the plumber and his mate helped me keep on my feet. (Bit of good look there!)
Kindly after I mentioned and pointed out the slow filling WC tank, and blocked sink in the wetroom, he got me sat down. He got the sink taps working without any leaks, unblocked the hand-sink, and the WC now fills up quicker! Bless them! All in about 15 minutes, too! Came to me at the computer and told me what had been done. I thanked them, and he told me to stay in my seat, they’d find there way out. Caring chap, a rarity that needs emboldening in others.
After the farewells and they had gone, and my balance had returned, I went to have a look at the work they’d done for me.
I found this tap-part in the kitchen sink? Both taps were working well. The hot and cold water taps working with a little less pressure, which will help me not to splash myself so often. Hehe! Well, they came early and were quick at doing the repairs, and helped me out with the Shaking Shaun episode. So thank you both, much appreciated! ☺
I got ready for the trip into town to the Poundland store. Gathered the needs, then spent ages, checking and rechecking the flat for anything left undone, not done, lights, stove, windows, taps etc. repeatedly tested! Not for unacceptable Taboo Thoughts and Mental Rituals, though. My newly discovered OCD involves anxiety disorder and domestic concerns. (I think?)
So, having satisfied myself as much as is possible, that nothing had been left that is dangerous, and I had everything needed for the bus ride, I set off. With my yonderly tendencies, and athymia at a minimum, for once. Why I even found myself humming away in the lift going down! (Still no contact from the EQ – perhaps he’s deceased?)
I walked through the link-passage into Windwood Court, and there was Big Bill, doing a jigsaw puzzle. I had a natter, well, I spoke to him, and found a photo on the SD card of Sister Jane, supposedly putting the last piece in the giant jigsaw she was doing when I visited her last, to show him. The lack of interest was thunderous.
I said my farewells, wished him all the best, told him to take care, and went on to the bus shelter. A gang of Winwoodonians were in the Winchester Court foyer, Angela, Margaret, Doris amongst others. The ribaldry, put-downs, sarcasm and laughter flowed. Gawd, there are rare times like this that I love the place so much! And feeling rather upbeat now, I went out to the shelter, started to accept some well-intended light-hearted depreciative comments, when the City-bound bus arrived. Only one other unknown to me resident got on the bus with me, leaving a large gathering of Winwoodonian’s in the shelter, for me to wave to as the bus pulled off. The only response I saw, was a two-fingers sign, from Roy, but with a cheeky laugh with it! Hehehe!
I did well with the crosswording rechecking session en route to town. I even finished one of off, without any help! Number 83 in the book, the first one I’ve ever completed! I wanted to shout it out and brag a bit, Me! A first-time success! But there was no one the bus I knew! Hah-hah! Tsk!
I got off the bus at the terminus on Queen Street. Still feeling a bit high in spirits. (Yes, it worried me as well!)
The cold, low, intense, often blinding sunlight, in the dark morning promised some photographicalisationing problems for me. I took the first shot in town as I crossed over the Slab Square to Wheeler Gate and the Poundland shop. Where I had no difficulty in spending £13.75!
I amassed a selection of purchases that included, A packet of Tofiffees Naughty and stupid considering I have toothache coming on, Pillock!) Pork Farms mini pork pies, (Silly, with my weight problems!). A 75p kitchen roll. Banal fool! I must have about ten or more rolls at home! Sliced wholemeal rolls Fair enough, I needed these! Kelloggs Corn Flakes At least these will be eaten, they are a tiny size, handy for me). Dettol lavender antiseptic disinfectant. (to go with the six bottles I already have in stock!) Body spray (Huh, I must have ten or more in the flat! Idiot!) Fabric softener (Fair does, it’s cheap and smells super!) Some nibbles for the hand-out bag. A pack of six individual low-calorie pots of jelly. (Good thinking, if I can resist buying the Lemon Curd yoghourts) Finally, a BLT sarnie. (That can be had for today’s meal) So, how many things did the old codger buy that he needed, and the total of those not required? I’ll not go into that now. (Coy-abashed-Mode engaged!)
I paid at the self-serve tills. They were busy for a Monday, and the ‘Impatient stares’, Tut-tutting and grinding teeth from those behind me in the queue could be sensed, as I fumbled a bit.
A lady assistant came to me in the end and whipped the last things through for me. Out and had a walk on the Slab Square. This gathering flock of pigeons. I could not see any food on the ground around them, though? The white ones could hardly be identified with the sunshine glinting on the settled rainwater.
I caught so trams, at the bottom of Market Street as they passed each other, one on the way out and the other inbound. I observed as I stood a moment just watching the Nottinghamians, that there was little smiling!
I hobbled down and up Exchange Walk, and back up to the Slab Square. There were no street artists, Big Issue sellers or any of the terrible, so-called musicians damaging any ear-holes this morning.
I walked through the Exchange Arcade through to Long Row, stopping for a moment’s reflection and take this photo of the sad shopping arcade.
Many years ago, most of these units were part of Burtons of Nottingham Food Stores. I remember them being very busy, classy and high-prices. These old photographs show how things were then. The first one, all Burton’s! The second was their famous Fish Counter, nothing you could not buy there, including octopus, shark and whale meat! The third one, (They stole my name? Hehe!) a typical window display on the Long Row side. Ryvita at 1/1d – 5p in new money. Nowadays it cost £1.25!
I got distracted there again, sorry about that.
I limped back to the Old Market Square, Long Row, and took this shot of the unsmiling Nottinghamians with their pretty pink and white… trainer shoes.
I made my way up Queen Street, showing the long shadows of the citizenry in this snap.
Up to the L9 bus stop. I was the only person to get on until we reached the Victoria Shopping centre, where the bus filled up, Margaret, Penny and Betty were amongst them. I greeted them as they got on, but they didn’t hear me. They sat too far away for a conversation, just as well, cause the three of them nattered happily between themselves all the way back to the flats. I had a go at the crossword book again, but not much success this time.
We were soon back at the flats, and I walked with Penny back through the link-passage to Woodthorpe Court, having a little chinwag en route.
I got in the flat and sorted out the purchases. Feeling tired already.
Got the meal planned, then I shifted the Morrison bananas from last week, from the cool spot to a warmer one. For they were still green!
I got some chips into the oven, the last of the Kentucky coated ones.
Then moved some things back into the cupboard under the sink. Got the plate laid out ready for the chips. And moved the hand-washed t-shirt onto the airer.
Then got the meal served up. The BLT Poundland sarnie and cut up a mini pork pie and added caramelised onion chutney, beetroots and some BBQ thingies on cocktail sticks.
Flavour rating: 6.5/10. I ate most of it this time.
I did the pot washing after the feasting. Then I settled to watch some TV. And didn’t fall asleep for over an hour, then bliss!