Tag: Political Ode

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Today is my annual 5-year medical check-up.
I hope she notices my barnacle…
No, I mean my carbuncle,
Will she look at things physical?
Show interest in my things mental,
Help me get sorted out dental?
Seizures, Dementia, my memory?
I got no help with Peripheral Neuropathy,
I was just told it’d get worse eventually,
She’s not mentioned it since 1993,
Cartilages, Arthur Itis in each knee,
Will there be help with the catheter?
Coprolalia? I’m cursing much more, sadly,
Glaucoma making things hard to see.
Meals get burnt, and much other new trouble.
Times & numbers are now easy to befuddle.
I’m tired out well before each crepuscle,
I find myself more gullible & coercible,
So many ailments, some seeming chimeral,
Readying things needs time & attention,
My operation cerebral, involving abscission,
Carer Joe is showing his altruism…
Deserving my admiration & appreciation,
His humour & help stop me from being anti-thalian,
That’s enough of this Ode’s aphorism!
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04:20hrs. Nocturnal pouch removed.
Computer on. Spent ages trying to get photos on, but no luck. Did the above graphics, which went on.
Photo card reader problems again. Couldn’t solve them. Annoyed, frustrated. Breathing became a smidge more of an effort. I did get some photos to go on, but not until Thursday morning (Now). Which means I am so far behind again. 
I finished and sent off the Tuesday blog. A good job I got up so early. Still had to prepare for the visit with Carer Joe to the Doctor.

Health Checks were done. Blood Oxygen level is still far too low. I must remember to mention this to the Doctor. (Not sure if I did).

Had a go at the crosswords while awaiting the evacuation movement to begin. It took a while to arrive and ages to complete the motion. No hearing aids in, but I still heard the clunk as the torpedo hit the water and the utter relief of it doing so.
What a pleasure that was! The medicationings went well.

Carer Ejaz arrived. Medications were issued, urine assessed, and as he departed with a “Tara”, I realised that I’d not asked him to replace the catheter day bag… Again! So self-annoying!

I checked and amended the list of things to mention to the Doctor. Then, I worked out what to wear for the trip. I risked putting on the trousers, which was interesting, as I struggled to keep my balance while getting them on. No socks. 
Unfortunately, I’d run out of clean long shirts to wear, hence, the trousers.

OCADO DELIVERY
I needed to rush a bit to put these foods away so I could check on the visit lists and ensure I wouldn’t miss anything. (Of course, I did all the same) But did take a few snaps. To give you an idea of my choice of foods for the week.
New drinkies.
Tomatoes.
Pickled mushroom. Bought
in bulk – On Special Offer!
Undoubtably, the tastiest cobs,
cheesy-topped ones. 🤎
Special Offer mini ice-cream suckers!

A rare cracking prolonged seizure!
Odd little, nearly recognisable memories floated about in my head. Something had happened or occurred that left me with a gut feeling representing embarrassment or shame?
So angry-making that I couldn’t get at it.

Carer Joe arrived as I was musing over matters after the giant seizure. It was amazing how quickly my head cleared. It usually takes me a lot longer to focus. Then again, I may have thought I’d clear my head but hadn’t? Life can get complicated.

Now, as I write this from memory, I have nothing on the pad for the trip. I believe I must have still been partly unaware of things.
From getting out of the door, using the stick only, and no walker, my memory is much better.
We went down in the lift, with Carer Joe carrying the laundry bag. Called into the laundry room, and Joe put it in a washer.
Then, out to the car, Joe helped me get in.
We were soon in Carrington, and Joe pulled into the surgery car park.
Joe helped me out of the car, and we went inside.
Logged in on the AI machine. And got seated in the waiting area. Within minutes, Dr Vindla came out with a big smiling welcome to greet me. She has a nice smile. We went into the surgery, and questions flowed in my direction. It was a darned good job that Carer Joe was with me. Even with my hearing aids in, I was struggling to hear what Dr Vinla was saying. Joe clarified most of what she asked me and supplied some answers himself. Those questions that I could not. I was to be referred to a Neurologist, but that doesn’t mean I will see one; it’s up to them.

This took me back to when I’d just been diagnosed as having Peripheral Neuropathy, then the stroke and was in the Care home recovering. Then the same thing happened; I was to be referred to a Neurologist, but that doesn’t mean I will see one; it’s up to them. I never heard anything more about it. That was back in 2018, and now, in 2025, I anticipate and expect the same thing will happen: nothing.

Joe drove us back to Woodthorpe Court prison… no, I mean Woodthorpe Court flats. Hehehe!
He then helped me out of the car, and we ventured into the Woodthorpe Court flats. Calling in the laundry room to move the washing into a drier. But Joe decided that, since there was so little washing, it came out a lot drier, and they decided to take it up with us and hang it to dry. Up in the lift, then the cell… no, flat, Haha!

Joe got the hangars and hung the dressing gowns up for me. I’ll have to handwash a nightshirt a day to keep up, as I’m out of clean ones. The Angel who usually does this handwashing for me did not turn up this week. Pound to a penny that she will have more problems and discomfort with her catheter again. Poor gal! I hope if this is the reason, she copes and can get it righted. 🤎

I seem to have lost memories of what happened then. I vaguely recall Joe leaving but nothing else. This would, I assume, just be caused by my bad at-the-time memory. Can’t remember any confusion caused by any seizures… but then I wouldn’t, would I?

Ejaz did the last call. Nocturnal bag fitted, and Peptac issued on request.

I loosely recall making the meal of the day. I cooked some potato nuggets; I think they were called. I’d also put this on the notepad reminder. Fresh peas were podded & added (My favourites!)! Some pickled beetroot was sliced (The cut finger was of no bother), and the last of the yellow and red mini salted tomatoes were great. A tasty, ready-cooked Polish sausage and cheesy-topped cobs rounded it of.
I remember I enjoyed this so much!

I fell asleep with the tray, food-emptied, of course, on my lap. Turning on the TV… at the fourth attempt, (Remember it is powered, after all, by the  Liberty-Global Oligarchs.) Then I drifted off within a minute, I think, into a deep bliss of sleep.
I woke up five hours later. The tray, dish, and crumbs on the floor, with titbits, including the knife, fork and spoon, spread over my body mass and onto the £300 second-hand shop-bought, 1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. Totally unbothered at the time and drifted off with Swett Morpheus yet again.
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TTFNski, & thanks to Carer Joe for his help!
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05:50hrs: I forced myself out of the bed.
Emptied the nocturnal pouch (6 on the NHS colour scale). I later noticed, after creating the graphic, that I’d put a 5½ on it. Tsk!
Off to the wet room.
Constipation Conrad had regained control of the evacuations. Still, it gave me a chance to catch up on the older crosswords that I had not yet completed, which is about 98% of them in that book. I did well, so I should have, too, the time I spent awaiting the torpedoes to evacuate.
The waste bags were sorted out.
I went to get the kettle on, and while making up (flavouring) a bottle of spring water, I noticed the tree copse looking even better, being blown about in the wind this morning. A deep green, beautiful.
I decided there and then… Yes, I gleaned a moment of determinationabilitly! I would try to get myself into the copse as soon as the first Carer has been and gone. I decided this would also be the topic for my Ode of the Day today.
Carer Ejaz arrived as I was making the water with flavourings. The lad had no socks to put on me, as my legs seemed so much easier this morning.
He played with the Hoover and issued the medications. I had a quick wash. I did not shave or put on fresh pants. As I got dressed, I began feeling almost excited at the prospect of getting into the tree copse again. 
After a lot of effort and struggle, as I was getting dressed and ready to go, I realised I could not get my shoes on. Because I can’t bend down to fasten them. So, I had to wear the toughest of the three pairs of slippers. They are often washed due to urinal leakages. I got a smidge nervous when it came to going out, and the dangers and risks involved came into my mind. I didn’t take the walker cause I knew that I would only get entangled in the undergrowth. I took the strongest of the wooden sticks with me.
I got as far as the corridor, and boy, did I get a wobble on! I’ve never instantly lost balance and got a Peripheral Pete leg dance at the same time before. 
Any thoughts as wonderful as how they felt a while ago of getting into the tree copse literally crumbled from my mind. Still, I did get as far as the flat door!
I got to sit down, and then I moved onto the bed.

I felt so much easier when I woke up. I got the feeling that it might be well into the afternoon, but it worked out that the sleep had lasted about two hours.
It’s been a long time since I last had a .
The aches and pains it left me with all came back to my memory. I’d missed these always unexpected, uncontrollable, painful one-legged tangos. I can’t remember when I last had one?

But talk about being lucky; it couldn’t have burst into life at a safer time as far I was concerned. Being in the hallway when a , ,  , Lose-Balance-Barbara or an Instant-Seizure visit always results in less physical harm for yours truly. It’s the precious walls being so close, within reach, you see.

As I dismounted from the bed, that little rest did me good, I think. Also, I was genuinely lucky to get away with such little physical harm.
I stretched the limbs Back-Pain-Brenda twinged the instant I got stood upright, but nothing too bad.
I’ll try to continue the tale with the Ode.
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Today, the tree copse was to be visited,
Had I got there, I’d have bragged & boasted!
Over plans to get there safely, I ruminated,
As I reached the front door, my plans were terminated
Unexpectedly, a P.H. leg dance instantly activated…
My dream, desire and plan were abrogated!
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I resisted going over, tumbling, but only momentarily,
Then I slid down the wall, but not abrasively,
And I got up by myself, most amazingly!
So I didn’t get to my copse to talk to any tree,
The very idea was a little over-adventurously,
I stripped and got into bed, you see.
Getting up again went painfully…
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No bleeding, no bruising, apparently,
A fair bit of pain from each knee,
Arthur Itis, and Cartilage Chloe,
I got away with no serious injury!
Well, that’s good enough for me!
Did I have good luck? Absolutely!
Did I break something fallingly?
I went into the hallway to see…
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Attempting to carry on with this blog,
Virgin Media is a dog!
The internet went down, and my brain needed an antifog
No TV, telephone, alert alarm, mind in a fog,
Can’t take anymore, I may have a grog,
I feel cheated, failed, the underdog,
I need a full-time Carer or watchdog,
The depths of bad luck can’t be unclogged,
This is more than being pettifogged,
From finding some faith, I’m now feeling hangdog,
Can this be my current epilogue?
In my youth, I scrumped the odd apple & goosegog,
Never drank champagne, port or had an eggnog,
Always easy-going, now spew like a cholagogue,
It’s been ages since I socially chinwagged,
Mentally and physically challenged,
My failures and bad luck cannot be camouflaged,
My speck of good luck has boomeranged,
My plans and hopes have both been besieged, 
My end is in sight, has to be acknowledged,
But fear not, for now, I’m well-aged,
At the same time, I’m well-advantaged
Looking back at life, I wonder how I managed…
Fears, torments, ever feeling cursed.
I’m the one that’s deselected or repulsed,
Gullible one, overcharged, not reimbursed,
I once got caught speeding as I reversed!
My brain & Doreen’s Dementia are juxtaposed,
Yet I know I’m cursed; it obviously showed,
I’ve been sacked, falsely accused…
Shot twice, was childhood abused.
Thrown in a canal, education abused,
My growing up was bypassed…
We were very lowly-working-classed,
These memories of events in my past,
All in the same boat, I didn’t feel like ballast,
No signs of greenery or need for compost,
Coal or coke fires, not hot water, doors not locked,
Rag & bone men, milkmen, & bakers flocked…
When the police came, the door was knocked,
Outside toilets with newspaper & candled,
A chain to pull, flushers were not handled,
In the sky, in the bins, the pigeons fluttered,
It cost a penny for a jar of Coleman’s mustard,
The politicians that pamphleteered,
Scraggy little children & babies pawed,
A free lift to the pawn shop was assured,
We’ll mend your roof, they pretended,
It was our Untermensch life that we defended,
Why? We worked, slept, and quarrelled,
From my school days, I never recovered,
I expected them to be regimented…
The teachers showed a determined inattention,
I can’t even recall getting any detention,
I got the cane or strap, which was not validated,
We called it the War Zone, our playground,
A place for me to get beaten & pummeled…
A flood is coming, they rumourmongered,
Off to school the next day I tottered,
The caretaker said, “Yer shunt ‘ave bothered.”
Now, of course, I’m older and wrinkled,
A lifetime spent being miniature pinkled,
Corrective measures were never actioned,
Failures, losses, repeatedly vapulated,
Disabled, neglected, feeling isolated,
They are things that I’ve overlooked,
Meals now are so often burnt, overcooked,
Little Inchie getting smaller; I know; I looked,
For my luck to change, I’ve prayed, cadged & begged
At the end light, you’ll see I lunged…
Determined not to be whinged!
Smilingly, off to hell’s fire and get singed.
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Saturday’s nosh. (I think)
Sunday’s Nosh. (I think)

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NIL DESPARADUM (CARER JOE SAID)
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Found this on the SD Card. Wonder how old it is?
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What’s missing today brings one misery,
There’ll be about twenty-thousand and three,
My Sister emigrated to Brisbane,
The furthest I got, Scotland, Balloch & Haldane,
Oh, and a week’s angling in Lockerbie,
I acted in a school play once as Moriarty,
Changes have created a dangerous medley,
Off fear, concern, anguish, & soon rioting…
I see the growth of greed, jealousy and hating,
Mostly from Trump, Putin & Starmer,
Anger from every pensioner and family farmer,
Where do you see understanding and compassion?
We have peace & generosity all on ration,
Depression, frustration, it’s not surprising,
Heating costs and food prices, ever-rising,
Violence facing it’s own final curtain,
We no longer fear the visit to the mortuary,
Political actions draw only disdain,
Wars, threats of it, again & again,
The world’s now an Oligarchs paradise…
Ammunition, rockets, deaths on the rise,
Oligarchs, with their financial acrobatics,
Oligarchs; ethically bare, the awfullest,
Weapons sold to any antagonist,
Atheists, antifascists, or apologists?
False regrets and lies, but no affidavits,
Oligarchs, the financial-alchemists,
Keir plods on, unknowingly muddleheadedly,
He lies so well, for a barrister he used to be,
Bending facts & figures to fit so easily…
With his plans to rule singularly,
But I’ve digressed again, as you can see,
When will humankind be war-free?
When we all die, suicidally!
Ah, well, I’ll make a mug of tea.
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03:50hrs, Catheter pouch sorted. Trotsky Terence Porcelain Throne visit. Took an early morning view. Ablutions and Health Checks were done.
Porcelain Throne second visits.
07:10hrs, Carer Ejaz arrived.

Made a brew.
Terrible photo.

Liberty-Global owned
TV took 12 attempts to start, all of which failed.
The 13th try, and I got it!

The internet froze, but worse of all, the computer stopped allowing me to import any photographs.

Carer Joe got the card reader to work, but the next time I tried, it had stopped working again. I spent hours trying to get it to work, but it looks like the end of importing photos again.

The computer suddenly went into full-screen mode. With being uptight, the hands and fingers were a bit shaky, so it might have been me pressing something wrongly on the keyboard? Two more hours searching for the action needed to escape the full screen.
Angry and frustrated again. After trying various combinations and failing, I accidentally right-clicked on the screen, and in the options, I found one to escape full screen! (F12).
I spent more time today patching and addressing problems related to Oligarchal Liberty Global, which owns Virgin Media, including issues with the computer, internet, and TV. Unreal, angering and depressing! Pissed-offedness Ruled!.

Tried saving everything and closing all programs to try to recover the photos.

Two shots of the clouds were taken earlier.
The computer allowed me to gain access after Car Joe’s second attempt to resolve the problem. Thanks, Joe. It won’t last, I’m sure, but great!
To the left.
To the right of the kitchen window.
Catching some of the balcony.

This issue arose while I was working on the Ode.

Carer Joe was a saviour again for me. Joe did the teatime visit. And I realised I’d got it all wrong about the Doctor coming to see me tomorrow! It’s me, thanks to Joe’s help in taking me to the surgery and coming in with me to help with any questions I may have which I struggle to answer. He knows my problems and can relate to them better than I can nowadays. Thus, tomorrow, the blog may be missing again. I reckon Wednesday is gonna be another busy day for the old fart.

Made a quick snack; I wasn’t up to getting a meal made, and turned on the Liberty-Global Oligarchs TV… Always with prayer and crossed fingers. It usually goes through a loading process and goes to programme listings. (That’s providing it starts at all, anyway). But not this time.
It went straight to a full screenshot.
I appreciate that I get easily baffled. And thus I was.
For a few moments, confused. I pressed the up channel button to see what would happen, but nothing. Then pushed the knob for listings, and it came up. It seems the channel I was on was one of those ‘Unwind with ITV’ programmes, with supposedly a peaceful scene and gentle music.
Well, now I know.

Carer Elaz did the last two calls. I forgot to tell him both times that the catheter day pouch and muslin bag needed to be changed. I hope I remember in the morning. So I don’t go to the Doctor for the examination stinky-phooing!

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I’m Flipping Frustrated!
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He’s a cross between Thatcher & Starmer,
Neither was classed exactly as a charmer,
Kier is more Conservative than Labour,
MP’s fall asleep at his symposia,
Backhanders, concerts; a bit of a wassailer?
Opposition Parties are quite, whichever,
The Tory party’s still at the repairer,
Lib-Dems, maybe the only other gainer,
Their objections are even weaker,
Labour seems to have a non-talking speaker,
The SDP, with 122 candidates in the country,
SDP? Thats the Social Democratic Party,
The WP, Workers Party, candidates, 23,
41 standing for The Heritage Party,
Trade Unionist and Socialist Coalition, TUSC,
How many candidates is a mystery,
10 standing for the Hampshire Independents Party,
The Climate Party, Animal Welfare Party, three,
The Official Monster Raving Loony Party,
And the Peace Party, which sounds good to me,
Only one candidate; they should ask Inchy,
That would show some authenticity,
I could, maybe, form a big enough party…
I’ll ask my WP friends to join me,
Tim, Paul, Timothy, Doug, with Andy?
I’ll get back to reality,
And, wish Keir’d hasten to his sepulture,
As every pensioner & family farmer,
Carer Joe left after reading this, gigglingly,
Sorry…
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It is now 19:15hrs.
And as far as I’m aware, I’ve only had 2 seizures throughout the day. Short ones. Good!

Throughout the day, Oligarchs’ Liberty Global-owned faux internet, telephone, mobile , and TV supplier Virgin Media experienced issues or stopped working. The TV stopped four times, the internet twice, cut off my panic alarm, and stopped both outgoing and incoming calls. Incidentally, Liberty-Global boss, CEO Mike Fries: His earnings have been a topic of public interest, particularly in 2021 when his total compensation reached $62 million. However, in 2020, his pay decreased to $44.9 million. In 2019, a significant portion of his compensation was front-loaded due to a multi-year contract, resulting in a total package of $123.2 million. His recurring compensation in 2019 was $44.7 million. No mention of the previous open-ended expense account.
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Photographs. Not many, but still, blame the CEO of Oligarchs at Liberty-Global for that. Thanks. Grrr!

First shot of the sky.

Morning nocturnal pouch.

Clouds to the left…
Clouds to the right.
Both Bootiful nature?

Morning vacuuming.
A bad photographic effort. Tsk!

Beef in pea stew (olive oil).
I added a pot of Kung Po.
Added some water chestnuts.
Pickled mushrooms.
Not bad at all.
A sourdough baguette.

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I turned on the news. Turned it off.
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I know we have done wrong to be in prison
in the first place – but we are still human
beings. Those are the damning words of
an inmate at HMP Nottingham. He says,
the reality of living in this faculty.
The prisoner, who wished to remain
anonymous, sent a handwritten letter
to Nottinghamshire Live to make people
aware of what he alleges is happening
daily within He says the prison. He and
his fellow are stuck in their cells
almost daily.
“Drug addicts have ‘spice-attacks’, there
are prisoners who are mentally ill and walk
around, taking scraps out of the bins, and
eating them while wing staff watch & laugh. According to the prisoner, officers in each
wing must do a head count of all inmates
in cells before morning and afternoon.
Association times when they are allowed
out of their cells. Responding to the claims
of a lack of support. Inmates struggling with
their mental health & alleged knife fights.
The MoJ spokesperson added: “All those
continue to have full access to NHS
healthcare, and much quicker than most
of their victims & pensioners can.
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STARMER BASHING AGAIN
Starmer’s shower seems to act qabalistically,
A new word to me means secretively,
They’ve quantity but no quality,
Living in hopes but with little reality,
Come think of it, it sounds like me!
The elections coming quadrennially,
Doing Keir’s wishes, all unpanicky!
Prices rise, fuel & food drastically,
Working on things quantificationally,
Keir’s chin sits squarely, quadratically,
On his head, doing owt he does fancy…
No MP’s object, question, or query…
Getting away with lies & puerility,
Confidently and with stunted quippery,
Voters, the King, all given piosity,
I’ve not seen any MP acting querulously!
Hiding his true aims with great perplexity,
He spits untruths without any penalty,
Changes rules & laws to suit his suitability,
Compassion? Well-insufficient, with exiguity,
Can’t even see Labour’s coming fissiparity,
I’m uneducated, but I see it with clarity,
I’d welcome back the Tory Party!
After Keirs gave the disabled, frailty.
Pensioner robbed, fears, and all financially!
Now, the voters must protest, & rally,
What’s the future for this Labour HMG?
Which other party can win convincingly?
I don’t fret too much, for this country,
It’s Armageddon that worries me!
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ANOTHER SHORT BLOG
I’ve been in and out of the extremes of moods!

He’d stay for a few minutes. Then…
would swap control of the brain for a while. During the morning, this swapping Agony-to-Joy was the routine they decided upon. These, being all short stays, were bearable.
In the afternoon, Duncan came on, and initially, it didn’t bother me too much, as I was convinced that he would soon be gone and replaced by Horis.
Oh, no! On this visit, Duncan was with me for about five hours solid! I felt awful! I was swearing and annoyed at every little thing that went wrong. I was lucky that no Carers arrived while I was feeling such emotions. (Well, Horis was nae bother, Hehe!) The next was, and still is, back to the swapping Agony-to-Joy routine. Thankfully, it returned to short episodes with more time between them calling. I was and am all over the place. Balance, Dizzies, and lousy Concentration. Made all the worse by the return of – .

At least the morning bore fruit with notes and photographs being available.
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Thanks to Grammarly, not too many cock-ups. Of course, there were plenty, but Grammarly kept picking them up for me. I hope.
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The blood was not in the urine.
It came from the wounds on the leg
when I was emptying the bag.

Huh!

I tried the same squares again. No win. I kept my average score of Zero for the week! Hehe!.

Carer Ejaz did the first call of the day.
Medications given. Diabetic socks fitted.
He also barrier-creamed the catheter tube and strap wounds on the right leg. Bless him.

Left leg on the left.
I think?
Right leg on the right.
I think?
They could have been the other way around, of course. A brief seizure while Ejaz was working on me. Come think of it, the photos might be of the same leg after all. Carer Ejaz took the clear one after seeing my bad effort; I may have accidentally deleted the good one of the other leg. I think.

The tree copse.
In the bottom field. Two boys and two girls were spread out, lying down and getting up to youngsters’ habits at 05:30hrs. I waited until later when they had gone. Jealousy!

I added some pickled lemons to the vegetable stew. The usual pickled onions, red onions, and chopped water chestnuts were added with a jar of Kung Po sauce. I grated part of the rind of a pickled lemon and added it to the mixture. I put it all in the biggest microwave bowl and fridge for later use. It was used 10 hours later.

The blood monitor was delivered. The instructions lettering was the smallest I’ve ever seen… like a row of dots. Must get help in reading them so I set it up correctly on the first try.

The longest-ever, deepest, and most massive,
,
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Anne Gyna joined in, and I lost five hours of the day.
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Carer Joe had made a call. We spoke about his going on holiday and that he should be back a week on Wednesday. What else we spoke of faded.

I recall thinking about having some alcoholic beverage drinks. No empties in the bins, so I must have been a good boy.

Carer Mizra came. And I was so confused at the time.
I may have shown her the blood monitor machine.
I was nearly confused when I thought she was doing the teatime call. It’s a good job I came around. So she took the diabetic socks off for me. I had dissolvable paracetamols and some Peptac.

Where did the day go? It was now nearly ten o’clock!
I got on with this blog ASAP. Had to rush it.

Then, I got the nosh sorted out and served it up.
Settled to watch the Match of the Day on BBC1 in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner.
Cheesey-chopped bread rolls dunked in the tasty Hung Po sauce. I could sense the tiny bit of pickled lemon skin in the background. Nice!

Returned as I was dining while watching the football.
Zzz!
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TTFNski!
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