I’ve got arithmophobia, numbers leave my head in a haze,
No doubt, I’m an old gentleman, who is easy to faze,
Trying to understand and or appraise,
Easy, back in my earlier days,
Confusing now, my brain decays…
Facts and figures mixed, like mayonnaise!
This is clearer to me, a lot less bull,
+113.6%, well, that’s plainly plentiful!
Far too high for things to remain uneventful!
In fact, we must indeed all be very careful…
Or things can easily become more fatal!
I’m not sure why this was in the news at all?
This article is not likely to amuse or enthral?
Still, nice to see summat that’s not hard-ball,
I should welcome an item that’s not conflictual!
What is conditional bail?
Bed at a certain time?
Don’t stab anyone or impale?
Collect your dole on time?
Or eat only Wensleydale?
Don’t commit another crime?
Or is conditional bail, a dwale?
Here’s a right git who is rather unnice!
He’d drunk-driven before… Twice!
Nearly six years he got, very nice,
He was tried at Derby, didn’t apologise…
Better than the Nottingham Court guys…
They’d given him a month and free pork pies!
I can’t believe it, just two years… surely?
Our justice system is a tragi-comedy!
It defies logic and believability,
Saving money, with short sentences essentially,
Do we spend too much locking them up excessively?
Starve the gits! Forget about doing things humanely,
Or did the scumbag pretend to act demurely?
I find it hard to make a comment on this scum!
I’m sure she meant no harm at all,
By gum, she’s persistent, in for the long haul,
Though to be honest, it is only natural…
When the grandkids want drugs, avoid being conflictual,
Wanting to please young Elvis and Myrtle?
Brothers Jamil and Shakeel Amin spearheaded the group, who, in their twenties themselves, had a significant influence on young people in the city, who they were targeting since 2018. They were found to have long lists of clients, with frequent phone calls and texts relating to buying the likes of cocaine, MDMA and ketamine. Two members even bragged that they had so much money they could throw fivers ‘in the bin’, and the video of 29-year-old Shakeel Amin and 22-year-old Zain Mushtaq casting the notes aside was shown during the court case involving nine people as part of a drugs conspiracy.
I thought I’d end on a higher note, the top gang bullies got seven years each. It should have been a lot more, but with our justice magistrates and judges, it was a miracle they got seven!
Part of The Inchcock Local News Snippet Series – In Ode
So, who is worthy of the sarcastically Inchcock invented name of a Grobble Knumphchuckle?
A ‘Grobble Knumphchuckle’ title recipient has most of Anthony Charles Lynton Blair qualities and attributes. But the chosen few have the added ‘quality, ‘skill’, ‘trait’, ‘ability to have failed in their chosen sphere of financial skullduggery, hustling, or whatever position they have conned others out of to get employment and absolutely phenomenal salaries! (I’m not jealous at all).
The hated few, selected band of natural, proper, worthy candidates that have been granted the name by both Inchcock and his Alto-Ego Inchie! We start today with the current Top Dog himself…
Mike Fries (Left)
Distraught UK Customer on the right!
Grobble Knumphchuckle? Yes!
A most deserving case. He has all the traits required. Plus, I am dead-jealous of his salary during the Coronavirus he’s paid himself, of… wait for it… $1 million a week! According to the internet, difficult to be sure if this is true as Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet keeps going down several times a day… and ever upwards in cost!
No wonder he’s smiling! I Can’t blame him!
Chief Executive Officer of Liberty Global
Who acquired British cable group Virgin Media for $24 billion!
Virgin Media’s new owner faces a shareholder revolt for paying its boss $1 million a week during the pandemic. The American chief executive of London-based Liberty Global pocketed $52 million (£36.7 million) last year, even as the broadband and TV provider was hit with a deluge of customer complaints.
A number cruncher? Conman? Mafia-backed?
Who knows. He appears hubristic, conceited, self-assured, smug, arrogant, daredevil, self-asserting, shameless, procacious, scoffing, impervious to failure, and a moralless bloke?
Then again, if I was getting away with conning my bosses, shitting on my Nottingham customers, and an excellent number-cruncher and bean-counter as Fries: And getting away with it, paid a fortune to fail… and cunningly hiding the actual figures so cleverly, I might be the same as he is?
Which does nothing to help me get the over-priced, ever going off-line Virgin Liberty-Global Virgin Media internet to work?
You try to sign off and try another company! Huh!
Fries Virgin-O2 Deal?
O2 and Virgin Media have confirmed plans to create a new company through merging. The deal establishes a quad-play (broadband, TV, phone and mobile) company that will rival BT. The combined business will have up to 40 million commercial and residential customers and be worth over £31 billion.
However, several issues, including regulatory, will need to be worked out as the ‘deal’ progresses.
Quote From Fries
Mike Fries, Chief Executive Officer of Liberty Global, said: “We couldn’t be more excited about this combination. Virgin Media has redefined broadband and entertainment in the UK with lightning fast speeds and the most innovative video platform. And O2 is widely recognized as the most reliable and admired mobile operator in the UK, always putting the customer first.
Putting the customer first?
Oh, my mistake, I thought for a minute that Fries was claiming that was what Liberty-Global Virgin Media were doing… even he is not brave enough to make that claim… is he? He was talking about 02.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Dear Mr Fries:
The figures and statements I’ve found on the internet, maybe pre-juggled or crunched, appear better to the investors. This searching the web and creating this blog is not accessible when Liberty-Global Virgin Media here in Nottingham, England, keeps going down several times, every day! I find it confusing.
Hehe! I am what used to be called a Silver-Surfer, although I am bald. I struggle with disabilities, stroke, heart-surgery recovery, and vascular dementia. Not that this would bother you in any way! Empathy is obviously not in your dictionary. Knowing how to run an internet service that is even close to being semi-reliable is also beyond your capabilities, but hey… we’re only customers!
Liberty-Global businesses operate under some of the best-known consumer brands, including Virgin Media-O2 in the UK, VodafoneZiggo in The Netherlands, Telenet in Belgium, Sunrise UPC in Switzerland, Virgin Media in Ireland and UPC in Eastern Europe.
Is your internet none-reliability the same everywhere, Mike? Or do you have something against the proletariat pensioners of Nottingham, on the tiny island, UK?
Our global investment arm, Liberty Global Ventures, has investments in more than 75 companies and funds in the fields of content, technology and infrastructure, including strategic stakes in companies such as Plume, ITV, Lions Gate, Univision, the Formula E racing series and several regional sports networks.
Reads impressively; At least to anyone who isn’t cursed with your destruction of Virgin Media reliability. Are there any vestiges of mock customer service and Liberty Global’s constant, Nottinghamian internet failures? Several other unhappy old silver-surfers are using Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet (when it’s not gone down, of course) in these blocks of old folks flats that would like to know. Why am I asking you? Proof of my senility here!
Liberty Global total number of employees in 2020 was 23,000, a 13.86% increase from 2019.
Are the imitation customer services team, electronic or even the human variety occasionally gagged? Do they have scripts to read from? Have you told them never to mention Libert-Global when someone calls? That is if they can get through and the LG telephone is working. Thus, Mr Branson can be blamed for the abysmal service we are receiving?
Liberty Global is a cable company providing video, broadband internet, fixed-line telephony, mobile, and other communications services to residential customers and businesses.
I think you’ve missed a word out of the above Liberty Global statement… Should it read, Liberty Global is a cable company providing video, broadband internet, fixed-line telephony, mobile, and other communications services to UNFORTUNATE residential customers and businesses?
02:10hrs: I woke with two voices talking to me, both apparently, mine? One said “Sod-it, go back to sleep, soddum all!” the naughty me. The other, obviously a more conscientious me, said, “Don’t mess about, it takes you that long to get anything done nowadays, here is your chance to get caught up on your CorelDrawing, come on, gerrup!” The naughty me won this argument, and I drifted off back into slumberland!
05:00hrs: I’d been having a bad dream, where I was being chased by a gang of armed, vicious, blood-thirsty hoodlums again, through demolished offices, I sprang awake. Passed wind violently, and the innards started churning and rumbling, and a tummy-ache of Defcon Two proportions kicked in. My immediate thought, was, is this through those damned pork and leek sausages I ate last night? They looked almost white, the skin was three or four times the usual thickness for wienerwursts, I was a bit doubtful about eating them at the time. But I think not, cause they were very mild with a delicate taste of leeks, any pork flavour had done a bunk.
I had no option other than to get my still aching from cleaning up the flood mess body, dragged off of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, with some difficulty. Arthur Itis and Back-Pain-Brenda being the main culprits. Grabbed the stick, and wobbled to the wet room.
And to think that I thought yesterday’s last visit was a painful one! This was a painful one! I almost tired myself out with all the agonising force needed to get things through. But at least, the bleeding was no worse, and not a messy evacuation.
Washed, and off to make a brew and take the medications. Toothache Terence wasn’t too bad for once, so no extra painkillers were taken… of course, I’ll probably get a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, Dizzy Dennis spell, or Shaking Shaun attack and injure myself later, and end up taking one anyway. (Depressed? Lack of Confidence? Anxiety? Insecurity? Self-doubt?, Self-loathing? Nervousness? Defeatism? Negativity? Pessimism? Demoralised? Despondent? Melancholia? Me? Yes!)
I took a couple of snaps of the view outside. The mist was clearing, I just wish the fog of depression would go away from me.
On to the computer, and made a start on the updating of the Thursday post. It became a tad farcical, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were on and off, which meant it took me even longer than I expected. Saccades-Sandra kept making focussing difficult at times. But neither were consistent, they keep coming and going. This was getting to me today. Hours were lost in just correcting things done wrongly through the senseless fingers or Sandra’s blurring of vision. What with the floods that were my fault, the struggle to sort out food, not being considered at risk, so no food parcels, I fear that depression is coming over me again. Sickly, pathetic self-pity! Humph!
I made the comments on WordPress and then went on the Reader Section.
My usual heart and enthusiasm were not with me. I didn’t, couldn’t, seem to snap out of it this morning.
I checked the emails, I can’t work out if the virus situation is getting easier or not. Confirmed cases seem to be getting fewer. But, of course, there are millions of people who have not had any checks yet, so, if they check fewer patients, the figure will go down? And the deaths recorded are only those who died in a hospital. The hundreds who have died in care homes or their own home are not registered. According to the Guardian newspaper anyway.
Boy, I’m on a downer today!
I emailed the blog link and pressed on, stutteringly with this blog.
The landline tinkled and flashed. Sister Jane, who was out shopping, to get some eggs on Central Avenue in West Bridgford, rang me from the ‘Social Distance’ waiting queue! She said she was at number 18 on the list.
It really cheered me up a bundle, when I was informed that she and Pete had had there weekly freebie box of food delivered today. Fruits, canned goods, pasta, toilet rolls, vegetables, sauces, rice, cakes, bread etc., oh, I was pleased for them! I’m not complaining really (much!), I did get a loaf of bread and bottle of milk last week from the Nottingham City Council.
It seems I am not ill enough or do not have sufficient ailments for me to qualify as in need, for any food parcels. Nottingham County Council, give them out to fit people of the same age as me. Who are pools and lottery winners, have been left a fortune by unknown distant relatives, retired at 32, live in a mansion, on a tree-lined avenue, with a bus service at both ends of the road, car-owners as well! Luckily, this does not bother me. Hehehe!
Well, I might add something to the list of my ailments (Which are, Reflux Valve sticking, Mechanical Aorta Heart valve fitted, Duodenal ulcer, Hernia, Ever bleeding piles and awaiting a strangulation operation, Peripheral Neuropathy, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Ischemic stroke, given Clopidgrel in hospital and found to be allergic to it, but it’s in my bloodstream, and blotches, lumps on the ever-changing legs have to be contended with now. Dizzy spells every day, At risk for falls, Saccades, Thrombophlebitis, and Neurotransmitters dying(right side of my body) which makes walking and keeping balance very difficult. Deafness, Warfarin for life, Bladder cancer. And now Stuttering-Stephanie (along with the deafness) is making life and communicating a bloody nightmare at times!
But this list above is not enough to get a food parcel. I’ll see if I can catch something else to add to these and try again. Depressed? Me?
I went to make a start on prepping for the meal later. I got some canned potatoes in the saucepan, (Took them out of the can first, mind) and added some hoisin sauce and hickory.
I emptied the beef in onion into the pan with the potatoes. Unfortunately, Nocodemus’s nerve ends failed while I was pouring in the hickory, the whole lot tipped into the saucepan! I spent the next hour or so, keeping nipping in to extract some gravy and add boiling water, to weaken the juice. Boy, it was intense! Hehe! Another mess to clear up. Tsk!
The mist had cleared. I took a photo of towards Nottingham. Then zoomed right in to try and get a decent shot of the high-rise student flats right in the distance (Near the centre of the panorama photo).
A lady Vapour was taking her three doggies for a walk. I tried to catch all three dogs with her in one shot, but the younger one was very lively. Hahaha! I did manage to get one chance.
Well, I wanted to do some more graphics, but Saccades and Nicodemus decided I shouldn’t.
So I got the nosh sorted out. I had overdone it with spilling the hickory into the stew. I and to remove a lot of gravy and weaken it, before serving it up. But it was worth the effort, it tasted most delightful! The flavour rating was a worthy 8/10.
I got it all slowly masticated and digested, got the washing-up done (Slow job).
The door chime rang out, and I stumbled to the door. It was Robert. Our caretaker, he’d kindly brought me a bottle of bleach. I think I must have mentioned to him on Wednesday, about not being able to get any. Kind of him. I ignorantly did not offer to pay for the bleach, I was half-out of things with Dizzy Dennis having a go at me at the time. Sorry, Robert, and thanks. Saved the day for me there!
Settled to watch some TV, got my head down a bit earlier today, in hopes of getting some sleep in for a change. (Oy vey!) The self-derogatory thought-Storming started almost straight away! On, and on they flowed. Eventually, and thankfully, I nodded off…
The landline rang and flashed, I struggled to get to the phone in time. I was the nice lady from the NCC Support Team. But Stuttering Stephanie came online, and the worst visit ever, I could hardly get words out, and when I did, the poor lady could not decipher them. Then said, “You don’t sound too well, I’ll ring you back later another day.” I thanked her, but then again, I think I thanked her and seemed to find myself back down on the recliner, with a blank period in between talking and getting sat down.
Sleep had decided it would not return again, I’d upset it I think with keeping getting up.
I spent hours, musing, thinking, Thought-Storming, and passing wind!
05:20hrs: I finally stirred, after luxuriating in about three hours sleep. Which was tormented by dreams of a disturbing nature, of which I have only impressions, no real detail, other than it took place underground, and ghouls were in there somewhere?
Despite the scarceness of kip, I almost bounded out of the £300, second-hand rickety recliner, within minutes of my waking up? Clutched at the walking stick, and made my way dodderingly to the kitchen…
I got to the kitchen, took the medicines, applied the medications; Saccades-Sandra drops, olive-oiled the ear-holes, tincture of the tooth, creamed the Harold’s haemorrhoid’s, Phorpain gelled Arthur Itis’s knees, and made a brew, all without the need of a wee-wee or the Porcelain Throne! This was not natural?
Booted-up the computer to update the Friday post. And had to create a template for the day first! But it was a marathon job, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun all giving me a bashing. The worst, being Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter nerve ends, continually working and stopping, making typing almost impossible. I was continually making errors without realising it and having to make corrections. I have no doubt there will be many that I missed, which is disappointing and frustrating.
The knowledge that I will eventually have to stop doing these blogs, as it gets harder and takes me longer every day, and knowing they can do nothing to help, sometimes get me down. But while I can, I will. I love doing them. Trying to add a bit of humour to them, must help me, in a fashion. Hey-ho, moan, groan and whine, over!
Having, many hours later got the job nearly finished, and my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete called. Obviously, the lad hadn’t received the link yet, and he likes to read it early in the day with Jane. We had a natter, and I noticed that Stuttering Stephanie was with me again, getting more frequent lately. Anyway, he and Jane sounded in fair spirits.
They have had their big monthly parcel of food from Nottingham County Council delivered. Marvellous I thought. I quoted something along the lines of, A pool’s and big lottery winner, with a car and an electric bicycle, who live in a mansion, have been left a fortune in someone’s will, get their food hamper delivered. I’m told that because my aorta-valve replacement is not disabling enough, I don’t qualify. The peripheral neuropathy and dying nerve ends, the Stroke, using a stick or trolley-guide to walk, Dizzy Dennis, falling down or into something almost every day. Dropping things several times every day, Shaking Shaun and Shoulder-shuddering-Shirley, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger sticking, Hernia-Henry, being deaf, Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters dying, having Arthur Itis (Rheumatoid arthritis), don’t seem to matter to anyone else but me! It’s a good job I’m used to suffering and pain, innit! Pete did laugh! That cheered up.
I got the link sent off. Went on the WordPress Reader, and got this blog started. It took me 7 hours plus, to get this far. I fear the time is getting close to having to stop, this really gets to me. The very thought of it, brought on my depression, like never before. No point in fighting it. I stopped and went to make a brew and have a look outside, see if any of the dog walkers were out, so I could photograph them. Disappointingly, no one was about. But, I did find some photographs I’d missed off yesterday, of some doggies taking their humans for a walk:
I all but dropped the Nikon camera, coming back in from the window again! Darned good job I had the wrist-loop around my hand! Phew!
The rest will have to be in shorthand I’m afraid. The ailment was taking over, and everything took so long. Sorry. It’s hours past my normal head-down time already.
Posted off the ailment, and started a template for this blog. As I started to create it, the doorbell chimed out.
It was Amazon, with the Nasal spray and Clementine juice.
I opened the spray box and left the heavier juice one in the hallway.
Back to the computer, and all sort of problems developed! The landline rang and flashed. It was Jenny, bless her. Her Sainsbury’s order had arrived, and Frank was on his way down with the items I’d asked to be added for me.
I hurried to put them away. Jenny had kindly written a list for me. That’ll £26 plus £13 I owe her now. The shop had substituted some bits. Mini cheddars, which I’m not too keen on, and last week they did the same, a double size pack as well. I’ve got the pickle flavoured ones arriving tomorrow via Amazon as well. She’s got some lemon yoghourt though. Tomato juice, washing up liquid, cherry-scented? And a tub of salt. Bless her cotton socks!
I tried to get the computer to take the photographs but ended up having to do it in a long-winded fashion, which cost me even more time.
I rang Jane and Pete to get my mobile number, cause I needed it to get back on the photo site. But I was too late, and it timed-out. So now, I don’t know where the heck I stand with it all.
Rang Jenny back, I was gasping a bit and Stuttering Stephanie was on form! I thanked her and told her I was going to go to the bank on Monday to get some money to pay her what I owe her with. She kindly said it was Bank Holiday on Monday, so I can’t get it then! Tsk! We nattered a bit, and we decided I’d go on Wednesday. She generously said she would write a note for me to give the taxi driver on Wednesday, asking him or her to wait while I go ion the bank, and bring me back afterwards.
Then I did some updating on this blog, but not for long. I need rest and sleep badly now.
I stopped and decided to get something for a meal. The easiest will be bacon in the oven, and a tin of tomatoes, I can use the last of the bread up with it.
Not feeling so good now. I hope to be back in the morning, to finish things off. TTFN.
Sunday Morning: 0545hrs: Updating.
I got the meal, I had a can of tomatoes, added some vinegar and hickory to it. The bacon, I cut of some of the fat and did it in the oven. Got it served with the medications. For once a good tasty one. Flavour rating: 7.5/10.
Got the dish in soaking, and had a go at the computer problem again.
I had more bother with the computer. Had to supply a password that was my mobile number, but I couldn’t find what it was! I rang Sister Jane at the Bratton Towers, and she and Pete eventually found it for me. But by the time I got to put it on it had timed-out! So, no progress there. Tsk!
The TV on, but of no interest, however, the need and desire for sleep were being ignored by my body and mind.
The landline burst forth and flashed. Sister Jane, concerned about the computer locking me out. Thought it might be hackers. I told her about the lack of sleep problem, saying how it doesn’t matter now about being woken up, as I can’t get to sleep in the first place. I think she might have been upset a smidge, and rang off, thinking I was moaning about being woken, which didn’t matter at all in fact.
This irked me, and I range her back, but no answer.
Switched to another programme and there was an interesting documentary on an underground city in France, and how the military had used it over the years. I thought my xyrophobia-suffering, chaetophorous, anti-epilation Brother-in-Law Pete might be interested in it. I rang again and got through this time.
There I was enjoying a great natter and chinwag with Jane, and I thought I heard a beeping noise. This was annoying me, I told Jane, and I went with the mobile in hand to have a look around. I was giving a running commentary as I investigated, but, could not find the source! Then a bleep-bleep, and I lost the connection.
I got back in the rickety recliner, and tried to ring back ‘This number is unavailable’. Huh!
Then I actually fell asleep!
Coronavirus, pavement cyclists, wars and insanity! It’s a funny old world, innit?
03:30hrs: I came back to imitation life, with my body sat on, as opposed to laying on the £300, second-hand, sickeningly beige-coloured rickety recliner, that my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete broke when he was flat raiding and stealing my valuables while I was in the hospital. (I must remember to ask him for them back, but I might as well talk to the wall) My feet rested on the serving tray on the floor. Crumbs and bits of bread were stuck to my feet, trapped in the folds of my pharaonically-sized stomach folds, and I even fund some in my right ear-hole! What the deuce had I been doing overnight? What a moyshe kapoyer I am!
As some focus, brain usage and limited concentration came back on-line, memories were triggered. I recollected eating the meal and falling asleep with the tray on my knee last night with the prospect of the much-absent sleep dawning, I drifted off… But by gum, I needed it! I got five hours in. Mind you, how long I spent nocturnally wandering and rearranging things in the room, I don’t know.
I took a rather surprisingly ferocious wee-wee. Then off to the wet room with the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) to be emptied and cleaned and disinfected. I was caught-out again when I needed to use the Porcelain Throne, having been twice yesterday, and needing another. A painful session, and so bloody! So, more cleaning and sanitising were required.
I decided to leave the cleaning up of the bread crumbs until later, when I could use the hoover, without disturbing any neighbours sleep. To the kitchen.
Notwithstanding Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failing a few times, I took the medications, pain gelled poor old Arthur Itis’s knees and Shaking Shoulder Shirley’s scapular. Olive-oiled, the ear holes, sprayed Saccades eyes. The over-the-counter Haemorrhoid cream was used. The nasal spray used, and the Vaseline was applied to my cracked lips. Then, with gritted teeth; I grabbed and squeezed a clump of my sizeable, flabby dominated stomach area, and stuck the Enoxaparin filled hypo. Pushing in the warm, tingling mixture of Enoxaparin – Formula (C26H40N2O36S5)n: Which is metabolised in the liver into low molecular weight species by either or both desulfation and depolymerisation. I wanted to sound clever here and copied this off of the leaflet that was in the box. Of course, I knew all of this before… Hahaha!
Then made a brew of my beloved Thompson Punjana tea. A warm glow came over me, as I remembered getting the new stock, along with some Glengettie in from Amazon yesterday and now have enough to last me for a good while. A gratifying, and almost exhilarating feeling!
I did try to use the Pill-Splitter again on the large 80 mg Atorvastatin boulder… I mean tablet. But just as when I have tried before, the ‘Splitter’ could not cut it, the blade got bent and distorted when I tried to use it. Most disappointing, I had to imbibe the crushed bits of tablet and powder left, by licking my licking and dabbing my finger to get it. Hahaha! So, I now have a tablet-crusher instead of splitter! Hey-ho!
I got on the computer and soon had the Thursday Inchcock Today updated and finished. Thanks, mainly to Nicodemus, Shirley and Shaun all being so remarkably calm?
I made up a template for this post. And went to make a brew and get some caramelised biscuits to nibble and dunk in the Glengettie tea filled mug. I took the pictures below from the unwanted, thick-framed, light & view-blocking, anti-photographer designed new windows that let the rain in.
This mist lingered on for a few more hours. Then as I got back with the brew, I thought I’d do a search for the Coronavirus updates on the web.
I got an odd feeling as I did so, Sister Janet was coughing? I don’t know where this came from, but it concerned me, and it is too early to call her yet. She is not an early bird. I’m getting the shpilkes about this!
I had a look up at the latest figures for the pandemic on Google. They are here on the right-hand side. They make bleak reading.
The fact that the USA has a population of 328.2 million, and the UK a total of 66.27 million, shows that we are being hit a lot worse?
I am well known for my mathematical incompetence, suffering from Athrithobia and numerophobia (although I am not affected by hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia), and am having difficulty in working this out. I’ll have a go at the calculator.
No, it’s just not there. The mind blanks arrive when I try to figure things out numerically. Humph! Back in my school days, I’d have got the cane, several clouts around the head, or both for not being able to get this worked out. I worked my way through the fear, and at one time, in Tesco in Duckworth Square in Derby, where I was cashing up 24 tills, and dealing with the Green Shield Stamps issue, without a problem. Then the stroke arrived, and since then, I have been struggling back with the phobia! Humph!
I waffled on there again, sorry!
I went on the WordPress reader. Then on CorelDraw, but got a lot of bother with the workings of the programme, and gave up. Did some TFZer Facebooking.
♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the pressed door buzzers. Aha! It was an Amazon delivery. I now have stocks of the wonderful Gengettie and Thompsons Punjana tea, Marmite individual pots, pots of porridge, and the bitter-tasty San Benedetto Clementine juice, to last me hopefully all through the rest of the lockdown (I hope).
I’m getting short of places to store things again in the kitchen. The unused bedroom (Junkroom), is getting over-filled again. But I have teabags, some bleach, toilet rolls, bamboo socks, kitchen towels and preciously, a load of PPs (thanks to my mate Michael) in there now! Only the medications need serious attention now. Jenny helped me again with some antiseptic and corticosteroid cream.
I got on the computer again, CorelDraw is really causing me problems, never mind Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters dying-off, bother me as well! Grumph! Had to give up again.
The current situation with Amazon outstanding orders are, I think:
Friday: Nasal and eye spray.
Saturday: Another box of 24 Benedetto Clementine drinks might come as well. I looked up Benedetto, expecting it to be an area of Italy. It came out as Blessed, or Saint Benedict of Nursia (480–547), often called the founder of Western Christian monasticism. I don’t know why I bothered telling you that?
Thursday 16th -20th: Trousers. Both of the last two pairs bought from the market have holes in the pockets, the linings have split open or both! I don’t want to go out after such a long time and get accused of flashing. Hehehe!
I received a call from a pleasant-sounding lady from Direct something or other. NCC, as was the man who called yesterday. I was finding it difficult to hear all of the words spoken. And remembering everything is not easy. I thought I’m written something down about it, but cannot find any note? Reflux Roger, and Stuttering Stephanie, along with Deno deafness, all made things difficult for me.
But the lady was very kind and patient. And I’m sure I did much more of the talking than she did. It was so lovely to talk to someone who listened. I told her my life story almost, in between stuttering, gasping for breath and hiccuping. Hahaha! This was the highlight of the day for me. I gave her my blog name, and she said she’d have a look. No actionable help was needed at the moment with the shopping, I thanked her for calling.
Much more verbiage was bantered and shared, but with the state of my memory, it’s not easy to recall. The most annoying thing is there may have been something important to record. Making me more agravannoyed with myself for losing the note I wrote!
I got the meal sorted out. Nothing like I thought it was going to be earlier on. Algerian tomatoes (Crap!), McCains oven chips (Horrible!), Baxter’s beetroots (Bland!), a cheese lump (lousy, insipid), Buttered bread and smoked ham Dry, tasted aged, the butter was greasy?), A shame, I thought I just might be coming down with a cold, and that has affected my taste-buds? Even the apple was crumbly and floury! Saving grace? The apple pies and the can of the tangy, bitter-tasting clementine juice, I liked them! Flavour rating; 4/0. I didn’t eat anywhere near all of it.
I got washing-up done and fleetingly thought of the possibility of my doing the handwashing. (I didn’t!)
Got settled down in the £300, c1968, sickenly beige-coloured, second-hand, not-working, Broken by my xyrophobia-suffering, chaetophorous, anti-epilation Brother-in-Law Pete. At the same time, he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and stealing all my valuables). With a bottle of spring water, some yoghourt covered cashew nuts, and the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) disinfected and nearby in readiness for later use.
It really was heaven, as the eyelids drooped, with the promise of the rare and resistant sleep, was on its way. But no! I’d forgotten to take the evening medications! Reluctantly, I clambered out of the chair, grabbed the four-pronged stick and hobbled to the medical drawers and got out the medicines. Took the tablets, then, medicines. (No Enoxaparin injections due again now until further notice). Got earholes olive-oiled. Sprayed Saccades-Sandra’s eyes. Nasal sprayed the nose and throat. Phorpain gelled Arthur Itis’s knees. Had a gargle of TCP for the sore throat.
Got the Clobetasone Butyrate cream, and went to the wet room to clean up Little Inchies fungal lesion and applied the cream (I usually do this in the WC room, cause my screams of agony cannot be heard and disturb my neighbours with the door shut). This is the second most painful of my medicalisationing sessions.
Occasionally, the Sock-Glide battles can be just as bad. I don’t know who designed these, but obviously, they did not give a thought to anyone with the shakes or dizzy ailments and might be averse to losing finger ends, blood blisters, stubbed toes, and to having lumps of flesh torn from their legs! It may have been Jack the Ripper, or Dr Harold Shipman?
I freshened up and returned to the uncomfortable old recliner, and settled again.
As per regular nightly, the Thought-Storms began, and during this session. I wondered if I left the tap on in the bathroom or even the sink? It was ghost-like, weary, frustrated Inchcock, who somehow or other, forced his elephantine stomached body up on its feet again and limped to check on the taps, lights, stove etc. top make sure all was safe. I don’t think this is an Obsessive-compulsive disorder OCD. It seems to be from my lack-of-confidence base? There must be a word for it. Anyway, all was okay. I got another bottle of spring water and returned to the, that by now, seems to be laughing at me, recliner. Hahaha!
The lighter nights, crap on the TV, and my unsettled state of mind were all preventing my nodding off! I lay for hours, I even considered counting sheep!
All the tossing about and moving trying to get in a comfortable position to encourage sweet Morpheus to take over my body and mind; must have cracked open Little Inchies fungal lesion! For I felt the warm wet trickle from the lower regions. Again, crying was an option, but anger was a stronger emotion! Why me?
Yet again, I got up, trying to keep calm and not have a tumble or bang into any furniture or door frames, off I poddled, chin-low, bottom lip wobbling and feeling sorry for myself! I got in the wet room and went through the usual dreaded medicationalisationing procedure. The pain didn’t seem so bad this time, that was because the leaf had not had time to harden, I assume. This actually took my Fed-Up-Defcon from2, down top Defcon3! Hehe!
Now, as I was going into the hall, I think I had a bit of good luck! (Yes, it can happen, it did in 1952 as I recall). I caught the right middle toe, stubbed against the bar of the clothes airer – and felt nothing! Obviously, this may be part of the reason that the cleaning and medication of the lesion, was far less painful, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were obviously not working! And this warned me to take extra care when touching anything solid or hard, and not rely on getting any sensation or feedback! Thus, I was going to make a brew of tea, but I stopped my plans. Who knows for sure, nobody, but it may have stopped me getting scolded!
Of course, it did nothing to help me get to sleep! I carefully made my way back to the imagined grinning at me now, recliner. I put the TV on, and to my greatest pleasure, Red Dwarf was just starting! Then I found out another episode was following. No problem with staying awake tonight. Old seen-before ones, of course, but I so enjoyed watching them.
It must have been around 02:00hrs when I had to get up to use the wee-bucket. Accident-free, I got back in the chair and fell asleep! And had a dream-ridden kip for three-hours or so. Every little help’s! It was well-gone 0500hrs by then.
04:00hrs (The latest getting up time for months): I stirred and waited for the brain to catch me up. Which it failed to do in time apparently. Cause as I began to manipulate my grossly overweight-stomached body from the recliner, ‘Thud-thud’, I ended up on my knees! Fell off of the c1968, rickety recliner, knocking the swivel chair over to the cabinet as I did so. Which sent the nibble pots off of the arm and rolling all over the floor. The knees were stinging, caught my head against the other chair arm as I twisted in a vain effort to stop myself going down, and a few selected naughty words were silently muttered! (I hope they were silent, anyway) I crawled on all fours to gather the nibble-pots, the yoghourt coated cashew nuts thankfully, didn’t burst open! Phew!
I tackled the job of struggling to get back up, in an almost nonchalantly, blasé, laid-back manner, and I was seated back in the recliner again within a minute or two! Yes, I know, it surprised and shook me too!) I stayed there to receive a brain-storm for a few moments. Not the usual self-recrimination, hatred, and confusion this time. I merely accepted the incident, felt thankful that it was not worse, and got the taste for a mug of tea! (Honestly!)
When I got in the kitchen, I spotted the moon was out again. But, being so much later than yesterday, it was more distant and further to my left.
I tried my best to get the lights below in the shot I took. I took me about five efforts, this was the only decent one out of them all!
I found a certain degree of, well, almost confidence creeping in this morning as I made the brew. I was singing to myself and whistling in between? I’d coped with the earlier Whoopsiedangleplop and Accifauxpas with no bother. I was feeling upbeat, and this worried me a tad!
My EQ told me that things were going to get hectic. No reasons or outcomes. Just things were going to get frantic, and soon! A shudder went through my body, and I foolishly ignored this warning and carried on singing to myself, as I took the medications, and took the tea with me to the computer. I did feel what must have been close to contentment and relaxed with it! This is not natural for me!
My first job was to make up the template for today’s blog, which took a long time. Thanks to Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters going off and on-line at will. Got it done, and checked online for the virus figures. Not very good.
Then looked at the Emails, and sure enough, an Iceland order was arriving today, twixt 15>1700hrs!
I decided to get the ablutions done next, as with my getting to a semi-live state, so late, it was now gone eight! (No charge for the poetry. Hehe!). I put a long-sleeved t-shirt and pair of socks to soak while I got the shave and stand-up wash. Off to the wet room.
As I got in the doorway, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, it couldn’t have come at a better time! But it was again a start-stop operation.
Which let me have another go at the crossword puzzle solving. I got a few as well!
When things started moving again, just like yesterday, it was ‘Klunk’ and all over and done with. Apart from the cleaning up, of course. No medicating, not with me about to have the stand-up wash and shave. The doing of the teeth, ave just one dropsy, the toothpaste. No cut gums this morning. The shaving was a little more accident-prone, though. Dropsies included: Shaving foam can (2), razors (6), and the after-shave bottle that I was using to stop the (3) cuts bleeding. However, no toe stubbings, and the sock-glide, I laughed at! (I didn’t put any socks on, Hehehe!) Most of the dropsies were caused me Nicodemus’s failing nerve ends.
Medicated the areas in need, olive-oiled the ear holes, Saccades sprayed the eyes, got the Brute and deodorant applied. One blessing here was that Little Inchies fungal lesion had only bled a tiny bit. Ah, nice!
But I still felt in a perky mood! I dried off and got dressed, all bar the socks, and went to get the handwashing done, wrung and hung. For some reason, the ones I did yesterday still needed more drying time?
You can see in this photograph, the diamond strengthed leakage from the air-vent, that the Nottingham City Homes maintenance man left me with on the wall years ago now. And it ran down and hardened all over the electrical socket! It still pees me off when I see it every day.
I got the black bags sorted, replaced the bags in the waste-baskets (4), and took the full ones to the waste chute.
I spotted the new to me, but it would be, my not having been out for so long, a sign asking for only one person in the lift cage at any time.
When I returned to the apartment, I thought I make another brew, and try to drink it this time. I took another Co-codamol that a mystery resident had so kindly given me, to counter the toothache I felt coming on again.
There are plenty of aircraft/jets out today. How do they keep to social-spacing in them, then?
Back to the computer, I’ll get the thing started eventually, Humph!
♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out again. Looks like my EQ was right, doesn’t it?
It was Riechsfhúreress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana. She was handing out Easter Eggs from the Nottingham City Homes, for everyone. Bless em!
I got back to the computer, and sat a moment, wondering if using it would bring another interruption. Just as the now even more familiar, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out again. It was caretaker Robert, with a big bottle of milk and a loaf of bread for me! I thanked him muchly for the loaf and explained that I have plenty of milk in at the moment. Slipped him a G & T in thanks.
Back to the computer, I typed maybe five words, and the landline flashed and rang-out! It was a chap, this time from the Ingeus Diabetic course runners. He went through all what the lady did yesterday. Nothing really sank in, the line was that bad and with my hearing, Tsk!
At last, I made a start on this blog. For about five minutes, and the landline flashed again!!! It was the man from Direct Help. I explained that is was a fortnight ago when I spoke with the lady, and things have improved since. As I have got through for an Iceland order delivered since! With the help of Jenny, I have some stuff arriving Sunday, I think, that will hopefully fill the fridge and freezer up. So there is no requirement for help now, there was three weeks ago, but no one called as expected. So, I should be fine for a while. I told him of my five-week wait for the Morrison order, that’s due a week on Sunday! He told me to ring him back in a fortnight if I needed any help with shopping then. I asked him for the telephone number. He seemed surprised that I didn’t have it on my phone. He gave it to me, anyway.
On the computer, once more. And the intercom flashed! It was the Iceland delivery that I can’t remember ordering!
Now, my friendly, warm, upbeat mood was changing.
I got yesterday’s blog sent off, and made yet another attempt as doing this update. Guess what? The landline lit up and sounded again!
It was the cat-walk model and Warden Oberstgruppenfhúreress Deana. She had some questions that needed answering for Nottingham City Homes. I don’t know how the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) are managing with all the extra duties and hassle they have to put up with, Bless em all! I got myself very confused, and being so tired again, things weren’t sinking in, well they were, but not staying in the memory bank!
I got back to the computing, and the dreaded, feared, damp, and warm sensation spreading about in the lower regions was sensed! Botherations and blasticulisations! Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding! So, off to the wet room again, for cleaning and medicationalising.
The task was more manageable and less painful than I expected, for it had not dried on, much less hassle! I had a wash afterwards and noticed that the old ankle scar looked like it wanted to return again. (Dangwangling, Dangwangles!)
I gave the hands another really weep clean. So much so, the yare getting all wrinkly again. Tsk!
And, how can I get some more carbolic soap? It was hard enough to get before the lock-down and self-imprisonment! (Gribbledockends!)
I went to make a brew, and I noticed a man and his dog down on the bottom field. It was different, and funny this time!
The man threw something, a ball I imagine, but this dog was not having it at all! The hound plopped itself down on the grass, with no intention of moving! Hahaha! The chap could not get the animal to move at all. He got his mobile out and made a call. I wondered if he was walking the dog for someone, and calling for advice? A few possible funny scenarios went through my head.
Then, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the door, again. Unbelievable! It was a delivery man, I didn’t see him of course. But there was mail been delivered, and a box on the floor.
The reading of a letter, pretend signed, by Boris, while the poor bloke is suffering in the intensive-care ward, was a strange thing. To me, anyway. Good and bad news from the blood results. Good, in that with it being Bank Holiday, they always leave the next test for longer. This time, it is not until the 21st of April. Which means, my Blood Vampire Angels will not be seen until then! Sob, Ululations, & Woe is me!
Finally, I got this post done as far as here. It only took me fourteen hours, as well. Humph!
At last, I got the Iceland order looked at properly. Their offer of two boxes of Gold corn flakes at £1 off for two, I had apparently taken advantage off. I vaguely recall thinking that if Jenny didn’t want them, she would know of someone who would, Nora perhaps? I gathered the things and bagged them, then called Jenny, to tell her I would drop the bag off at her apartment, in a few minutes. Which I did. It felt odd, after such a long time, to use the lift again, almost scary! Haha! If Jenny does not want anything in the bag at all, it won’t matter, cause I know she’ll soon have some worthy person to give the milk, Cereals etc. to, who deserves a bit of help.
Back up to my flat, didn’t anyone out in the building at all going either way. It felt so eerie, and reminded me of my recurrent dream of being chased and shot at in a crumbling building, by gangs of unpleasant persons.
I took a picture of a panorama shot of the scene outside.
A man and his dog, sensibly kept their distance from the two young girls in the bottom field, as it looked like they were asking for directions.
I’m feeling weary now, but the toothache is no worse, the coughing has eased, and my mood was getting back to a good one.
Fodder decision time now. I chose to have bacon sarnies. Mainly to use some of the crap, watery, tasteless bacon I’d got! Tsk! I might have a tin of tomatoes with it instead, then use the bread to dunk with. Or something else? Hahaha!
I’ll be back in the morning to finish this blog off, I hope.
I ended up making Halloumi cheese sticks and bacon in the same oven tray. I made up bacon sandwiches, caramelised chutney, an apple and some lemon Vienna cakes. And a can of the delightfully tangy Clementine juice.
The halloumi was okay, and the bacon was much better than yesterday’s offering. This is because I took Tim Price’s advice and poured the hickory over the bacon as it cooked, and as a result, it tasted a lot better. Flavour rating: 7/10.
I didn’t even get to do the washing up, I fell asleep with the tray on my knee. I woke hours later, with the tray on the floor and my humungous body half out of the recliner.
I thought about picking up the dish, plate and crumbs… Zzzz!
01:30hrs: The Saccades-Sandra affected eyes opened, the body teased and tested for signs of which other ailments might be bothersome this morning, and I awaited the brain to join me. It slowly engaged gear, and the Thought Storm that came with it, had me fretting, worrying and trying to make sense of the emotions, mainly taciturnity, self-hate and criticisms. Then, I had a few moments of uhtceare fretting, over just about everything that it was possible to vex about. They were soon lost to the ether, as the sudden urgent need for a wee-wee joined in the mind-confusion.
I struggled and grappled my way free of the £300, second-hand, c1968, broken-down, rickety recliner, and up onto my plates-of-meat. So quickly, I caught my balance, then limped to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket). There I stood, without the stick, thinking things were about to burst forth… but no! Things were resistant to flow! Had I been nearer the bookshelves, I think I could have read War and Peace all the way through, before anything activity in the wee-wee stakes had started!
If Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis or Shoulder-Shaking-Sandra had attacked at this time, I could have been in a right mess! One hand against the wall, the other holding the bucket, imagine the pickle I would have been in if an involuntary right-leg Schuhplattler Dance routine had come on!
As for the actual wee-weeing, after waiting so long for some sort of activity, it was of the discomforting WUP (Weak-Unwilling-Painful) mode. By the time it had decided to stop dripping, I was almost ready to get back down in the recliner for a rest, to recover! Hehehe! This did nothing to encourage me to get going.
Still, things had to be done. I hope I explain this bit clearly, cause my silly actions even made me smile.
I got the four-prong walking stick and decided to get the emergency bucket cleaned and refreshed, straight away. I went to the wet room to carry out this task – and realised I had not taken the bucket with me. Back to the front room, and picked up the bucket, but had a Nicodemus Neurotransmitters failure, so waited a few moments for it to die down before trying to carry the bucket, for apparent reasons. I carefully turned on the computer while waiting, which convinced me that the nerve-ends were working again, so back to the wet room… Huh! I’d left the bucket behind still! I’d actually taken the waste bin back with me! Oofta! What a meshugener, I am!
I got it right on the third attempt. Tsk! Then, in between several more slow hurtful WUP wee-wees, I took my medications, made a brew, and took some pictures of the moon smiling at me, from the dark sky.
Next, back to the computer. Where I had to create a template for this blog first and then started updating yesterday’s post.
By gad, that cost me a lot of time, several hours. Five wee-wees, that have now transubstantiated into an SSD (Short-Sensationless-Dribbling) style. At least the pain had dissipated.
Then off to the Porcelain Throne. The easiest and least painful for weeks it was! Bleeding yes, but the main concern was having to tip jug after jug of water down after flushing, as the system was not coping with it.
I returned to the computer, with a new mug of Morrison’s Extra Strong Assam tea, made en route. I put some bits on Pinterest. Then a long time on the TFZer Facebooking page. The WordPress Reader was caught up with.
I put the washing to soak in the bowl. Then it was time for the ablution battle. (Well, the sock-glide battle) For today, with having (prospectively anyway), some visitors from the Golden Volunteers calling, and if they do call, I wanted to look half-decent for them. Who knows, there might be a lady who falls for me, and desires my… Steady Inchcock! You’re losing it again!
I put the computer in sleep-mode, gathered the items and clothing needed, and off to the wetroom.
I’m back, and you might not believe it, but the ablutions dropsies count, was two! Amazing! Nothing walked into or banged, no shelves cleared. Extraordinary! No Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun, or Shoulder-Shuddering -Shirley. Phenomenal!
Sadly, the same cannot be said of the parlous, fraught with danger, high-risk, terrorising, suicidal, blood-covered, finger-bruising. black-spot, blood-blister giving, losing confrontation with Sock-Glide! Eventually, I got the first sock on. But, I was so battered, I had to give up, and tried putting on the right sock in the traditional way… Huh!
Over I went, and now I have a twisted right patella and a new bruise on the left elbow. To make things really teeth-grinding and extra-vexing, I had to do battle with the Sock-Glide again! This time, I got the second sock on! Cleaned up and medicated the injuries. Applied the pile cream, oiled the ear-holes, cream Little Inchies lesion, and got the PPs on, and used the sprays to freshen up. I left the wet room with a tick in my eye, and a nervous twitch on my lips!
And I was so proud of getting the ablutions done with so few Accifauxpas and dropsies, too! If by chance, the Golden Volunteers do not call today, and I’ve gone through all this for no reason, I might cry!
Black bags (8) taken to the waste chute. I got in a fumble getting into the chute room with all the bags and stick, but did it injury-free!
Back to the flat, and got the handwashing done, wrung and hung. Only the jammie-bottoms, I did the shirt last night.
I went to get this post updated. But the picture gallery would not open for me? Woe is me! Alas, alack, and Sigh! If it was Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet going slow or down again, or the impossible unfunctional WordPress playing up, I don’t know, but I was pee’d off with it! I had to give up and I tried to get some urgently needed graphics done on CorelDraw. But the computer was very slow, and I had to give up.
I got the mushrooms in the saucepan. Put a can (in date) of cheapo Asda chilli-con-carne and the last of the Piccalo tomatoes in there, too. The hickory is almost gone, so I just added a drop, and a can of tomato puree, that Jenny had kindly given me. I washed the crock-pot and did some imitation cleaning of the kitchen for a while, then as I was going to check on the saucepan of chilli, the landline rang.
My hearing ion this connection was not good, but I think I caught the drift alright. It was a volunteer Golden lady, about the help. I told her the prescriptions were sorted by Deana. Also, I would manage over the weekend with the nosh Jenny has got for me and explained that I still need money so I can pay the lady for her help. She suggested that I call 0155 960 209 Thompson Bro. store, not cheap, and limited choice, but they can deliver. I explained about my hearing problem, she knew that, by the number of times I had to ask her to repeat things, I reckon, bless her. She asked if anyone can phone for me, but a negative answer had to be given. She said she’ll ring them, to ask if they can take my card because I’m broke for cash. I told her of my owing money for the first time as I can remember, and asked if she had any ideas. She’ll ring back. I thanked her, and then…
Then a touch of panic hit me… Argh!the saucepan! I hastened to the kitchen, honestly expecting the worst, but all was okay! I’d not turned the stove on at the plug! That got me going for a few moments, I can tell yer!
Take your choice, am I a dimwit, fool, idiot, blunder-brain or plain pillock? No, don’t answer that! Tsk!
The kind lady rang back, she could not get through to the shop. She confirmed that I would be alright until Monday, when someone else will ring me, regarding a possible food parcel being arranged, and shopping advice. I think that was it anyway. Stuttering Stephanie paid a visit for both calls on the phone! So, I had made the shopping list as commanded to, but it was redundant. I did make her laugh though when I told her I was getting withdrawal symptoms for my smoked bacon! Hehehe!
I’m more confused than ever now, and poor Jenny is out of pocket for helping me out!
I put the computer back on to record these facts while I thought about it with a modicum of certainty. Well, a minimal degree of certainty.
Tired and well on the way to going brain-dead now. I’ll get the nosh done.I checked the saucepan and thought the contents needed a little longer, as the mushrooms were not fully cooked.
I spotted another tellurian and his dog down on the bottom field outside. I took two snaps of them, well five or six really, but only these below were any good to use.
Cheered me a little, just watching them. Especially the dog’s resistance to letting go of the ball. Haha!
I got the meal sorted out. It looked a little threadbare compared to how one would usually look for me. No fresh orange juice, no lemon yoghourt or mousse, Tsk! Still, I mustn’t complain, bet there are lots of folks worse off than I am. The mushrooms I would not have had was it not for Jenny’s help. The can of chilli-con-carne, and last of the tasty Piccolo tomatoes, all seasoned with, balsamic vinegar (¼ of a bottle left), Light Soy sauce (half a bottle left), and some beef gravy powder (Two tins and a bit, left), tasted more than fine top me. I had the last three slices of bread thins with it. I’ve got a sourdough part-baked baguette for tomorrow, so no problems there.
I think we have been spoilt, with all the choices we have available, normally or as we used to have, I should say.
I ate it all up, taste-rating of 6/10 granted. Haha! Got the things washed-up. The crock-pot and saucepan were difficult to get cleaned for some reason?
Then I went again, to check to see if the ear-wax remover parts had been left on the lobby outside the door. Nope! However, a two-sided A4 letter had been put through the door.
Sad, how I’ve ended up. Even making sense of these guidelines had me a tad confused. To think. I used to manage Tesco and Co-op stores all those years ago. Piteous, it is. Hoggledruids!
I reflected on an error while typing earlier, I typed crack-pot by mistake for crock-pot. Mmm? It seemed to fit the bill, betterer!
The damned Thought-Storms started after I got down in the £300, second-hand, uncomfortable, best-its-best, c1968 rickety recliner. My emotions were in turmoil. Self-critical and hating, loathsome fears and concerns and a total lack of confidence stirred in and out of the brain-box for ages. My owing money weighed heavily on my mind.
03:00hrs: I woke, and immediately started trying to solve the issues of the lost end of yesterday. I got nowhere, and am still none the wiser as to any actions for about a four hour period of Thursday evening. I spent a good while attempting to glean some memory, but no! The toothache began to come on, then.
Abruptly, the need for a wee-wee arrived. I fumbled my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, not-working (Broken by xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete), recliner. Caught my balance, got the stick, and over to the empty, unused overnight GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket). Thus, I was caught out by the violent nature of the TTSLTATO (Torrential-Throughout-Stopped-Like-Turning -A-Tap-Off) mode wee-wee!
As I made my way to the kitchen, the demand for the Porcelain Throne came, so I diverted to the wet room. A contrary session compared to the last few; Not much input needed from me, very swiftly evacuated, no overly putrid pongs, far less painful, but messy in the extreme. A lot of the preciously-short supply of toilet paper had to be used. Much cleaning and medicating and the PPs changed. Oh, and the bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion and Harolds Haemorrhoids was minuscule.
Back to the kitchen. My waking up so late, the view was lighter than normal, so I took a shot of the lights straight ahead. Then, I stupidly thought I’d get the step ladders and take a shot of Chestnut Walk down below. Not easy of course, with the new, unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, light and view-blocking windows that let the rain in! It looked like a tenant, who had vacated the free parking space next to the white car, might have an oil leak?
But, foolishly I thought if I take care, it should be safe enough. (Klutz!) I got the steps from the balcony without any bother, set them in position. And climbed up just two of the runs, and took the second picture on the way down. (Talk about bad timing!) Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed, and an unintended no-control-over right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dance routine from the right leg for a few seconds only was enough to have me over on my back on the floor! Frumpworthy Grobblecurses! Still, it could have been worse. The tumble and landing were not too bad, but the getting back up again was painful and farcical. Good job I had the four-Pronger-stick with me at the time. Hey-ho!
I took the step ladders back and returned to imbibe the medications, oil the ear-holes, pain-gel the leg, spray the saccades stuff on the eyes, and make a brew of Morrison’s Extra Strong Black Assam tea. To the computer.
I started on CorelDraw, with making up some mini-graphics for the greeting pictures for the blog. Then I had to make up a template for today’s post. Then I got the updating done for the Thursday post, which proved easier and quicker than usual. This was helped by my not remembering much and probably missing off much of what happened in the evening. This is not unusual; it’s happening more often nowadays. I did mention it some months ago to the doctor, who wasn’t concerned, and I think DR Vindla had anticipated me starting to go a tad senile. Tsk!
I got the post completed anyway. Emailed some links to it. Then put a couple of graphics on Pinterest. All this in-between so frequent wee-wees, all of a variable mode, from dribble-drip to hose-pipe like ones? Then went on the WordPress Reader. Finally, a blast at the TFZer Facebooking.
I had a go at trying to find a food delivery shop with slots free. It would have been easier for me to appear as Prima Ballerina in Swan Lake! No chance! It’s getting harder, not more comfortable to get food!
I am a little concerned about the future.
It was getting light already. I went to make another brew, of Thompsons Punjana. And I decided to get some mushrooms sliced and into the slow cooker for later in the day. I used the last of the light soy sauce, and balsamic vinegar to flavour the fungi. I might use the tin of minced beef with it, or I have one of the cook-in-the-bag braised beef I could use. Then again, I have a can of chilli baked beans and potato wedges in the cupboard… Mmm? My shilly-shallying, indecisiveness, and mental-stammering, really wee’s me off! Oh, I don’t know!
I made the tea, and returned to this blog, and made a start on it. I was doing well, until Saccades-Sandra kicked off, making eye-focussing a problem. And this slowed everything down again. The ever-having-to-correct-things mode had to be engaged! Frogglemoths!
I took a break and went to make yet another brew, this time Glengettie. But I’m glad I did at that time. For outside, down on the bottom field, I saw a human being! Yes! Hehehe!
One man and his dog. I can’t say I’ve ever seen them before. Then again, under normal circumstance (Yes, I can remember them, just!), I would have been in the wet room at this time, doing my ablutions.
Amazing how watching this chap, probably the poor chap has been laid off from work, and his dog, playing fetch. The dog was a bundle of energy, just watching him tired me out. Hehe!
I got a feeling elation just watching the only two tellurians in my sight, so contended and happy!
The full of fun pooch will not be bothered by the Coronavirus! Bless him or her!
I tried to get an Iceland delivery slot again. Fool!
Pressed on with CorelDrawing to do some graphics, but it’s a slow, frustrating job.
Then, things got complicated. Well, somewhat confusing for this old-timer. Things started to become busy suddenly. A business that required decisions and my memory to be used! Asking a lot this was. Hehehe! Tsk!
Jenny called, asking if I wanted some whole milk from her freezer. I could put it in the fridge to thaw out for later. I thanked her. And told her I’d leave the caramel wafers in a bag for her. I hastened to find them, but could not! Dummkopf! I knew I’d put them in a bag ready, but where, I have yet to discover! I found the other things I’d saved, but not the caramel wafers? I put them on the door-knob.
I put the milk in the fridge door and the four letters I’d found on the floor, to the main room.
One letter was about the apartment’s rent.
Another about how the Nottingham City Homes are responding to the Coronavirus outbreak.
The third was an NCH one about the City Rates, with a Nottingham Arrow newsletter. I must find time to give it a perusal.
The last one was heartwarming, indeed! It was from someone signing it, “From ‘A Resident'”, and no name indicated. How amazing and kind some people are. A big thank you to whoever it was that donated these for me!
They will be super to counter the toothache! I took one straight-away! Cheers, and appreciation to my unknown benefactor!
I got back to CorelDrawing, but again, I did not get far, the landline chirped and flashed into life.
It was Oberstgrüppenfhureress Desk-top dancer Warden Deana. She asked how things were and, had I any problems. I could have mentioned my Amnestic Syndrome Sinbad, Harolds Haemorrhoids, Anne Gyna, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters dying, Duodenal Donald, Toothache Thomas. (Stopped for a breather) Reflux Roger, Clopidogrel, Lethologica, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Thrombophlebitis Barry, Dysaesthnervesia Dai, Axonotmesis Axle, Konrad Confusion. (Stopped for a breather again) Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun, Saccades Sandra, CDP, Deafness Derek, Flatulent Frank, Trotsky Terence, or the Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing right leg, but I didn’t. Hehehe!
I expressed my concerns over the prescriptions and would they be delivered. Deana said she would ring them and call back. She inquired about shopping help, and put me on ‘The Golden List’ Bless her for the assistance!
I got back on CorelDraw. The shaking had stopped, but the weariness was dawning. A few minutes late, Deana rang again. The Golden Helpers will get in touch with me. I’d remembered the problems with not being able to get any cash, and mentioned it to Deana. Saying without the help I’d had from Jenny, I would be in a right pickle! She told me to tell the Golden people when they call. She would mention this to the volunteers, who might have a swipe machine, next time she speaks with them, what if anyone has no cash? I thanked her.
Back to the Coreldrawing, yet again. The ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ tune rang out. I got to the door, and it was someone delivering part of the wax-removal kit I’d ordered some time in the distant past! No use, of course, the inserts without a rod to attached to use them. Humph! Still, at least I’m halfway there now, Haha! The problem with this Coronavirus ain’t going away!
I made a brew, during which it dawned on me (Things have been known to in the past, you know!) I’ve got to keep alert in case any helpers ring. So I can’t go in the shower in case I cannot hear the telephone, mobile or intercom ring. They may be phoning anytime from in two hours, up to tomorrow night, I think Deana said. This has kyboshed my plans for getting the ablutions done! I’m smelly, need a shave and medications doing? But if I do, I risk missing the shopping helpers, the Haemostasis, and DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) Warfarin Anticoagulation Clinic at the Nottingham City Hospital, (Gawd I love that title!), or any possible answer from the Dentist.
Life has become such a struggle. Harrumph!
I’ll try to get a wash and shave in the kitchen, now. Means moving everything into there first, and must taketh care over dizzies, shakes and dropsies. Oh, dear, here goes!
I decided to use the wet room after all, and I kept the door wide open. Which I thought was a great idea so I could see any flashing and have a chance of hearing any ringing. Put the shirt and socks to soak in the washing up bowl, and off to the wet room.
Unfortunately, leaving the wet room door wide open was also perfect for walking into! Grumph! Ah, well, at least I didn’t have the spectacles on to break this time. Looking in the bright side here!
No socks put on, so I avoided the sock-glide battle! Noi bleeding from Little I~nchies fungal lesion! And, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, only bled a smidge. The dropsies we about average, the five drops of the razors was a little higher than usual, though.
I didn’t really feel refreshed or properly clean, with not using the shower. But betterer in myself anyway. And the pins (legs) were looking a lot better, as well.
I got the washing in the sink done, wrung and hung. Got the veg and potatoes into a normal saucepan, tasted it, and added a little more light soy sauce, it was a bit bland.
I added some things to the shopping list for the kind volunteers when they arrive, well, call me.
I really was tired now. But dare not let myself fall asleep, just in case the people ring up about the shopping and means of payment.
I got the meal served up and turned on the TV, anything with subtitles, so I don’t need the headphones on and fail to hear the door-chimes, intercom or telephone.
I added a can of potatoes to the saucepan, heated in with the other stuff, and got the feast eaten. A 7/10 for flavour and taste. I had three wholemeal bread thins with it, leaving me three for tomorrows nosh. The cupboard with the canned goods stock, had never looked so bare in all the years I’ve been here. But, the has been overstocked for months. I wonder if my EQ was telling me to stock up? Haha!
I got the pots washed, and checked plugs, stove etc. and settled in the hopes of getting some rest and sleep in. Then remembered, I needed to stay awake, in case the Golden volunteer people or dentist calls me. Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating! As I got down on the recliner and turned the TV on, a late sun came out! I’d not closed the curtains either, so that helped prevent me from nodding off to start with. I decided to get up and close the blinds.
The curtain hooks, several of them, dropped from the top rail. I left them for attention in the morning. I was not up to tackling the step ladder at that moment.
I found that Law & Order was showing back to back episodes with sub-titles, so had a look at them. I say them, I nodded off for a few minutes so often, I just couldn’t follow the storyline. Grumpworthiness! I found an Interscepter programme and turned to it, that was subtitled as well.
But the nod-offs were winning the ‘Stay-Awake’ battle.
I woke often but was soon back in the land of nod for another few minutes bliss. I’ve no idea if I missed any callers on the landline, mobile, on the intercom, or at the door.
01:00hrs: I woketh up, and soon realised, the moment I straightened the legs to move, that Rheumatoid Arthur Itis was back with a vengeance! Still, he has been very kind to me lately, now it’s payback time! The need for a wee-wee encouraged me to put up with the pain and remove my over-heavily stomach-burdened body from the second-hand, c1968 recliner. The GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket) was utilised, for a ferocious, vindicative HDTBS (Heavy-Duty-Torrential-But-Short) wee-wee. Again, oddly, stomach pains started after the release?
T’was then that I felt the wet warm trickling on my leg! Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding again, but not too much. A cleaning up and medicationalisationing session was carried out in the wet room. It took some time, and was a tad painful, but had to be done. At least the flow was stopped with relative ease this time. Other bonuses were no toe stubbings, walking into doors or walls, knocking anything over, or visits from Shaking Shaun or Dizzy Dennis were suffered.
I didn’t feel too bad at all, even with Arthur Itis’s attention, and then Duodenal Donald joining in. How can I describe it for best? I seemed more resilient and determined not to get depressed or feel sorry for myself this morning. How or why I was in this new-found la-la state of mind, remains a mystery. I anticipate things will change later.
Off to the kitchen, and got the kettle on. I took a blind shot of Chestnut Walk below. It had to be blind, thanks to the new kitchen windows fitted in the upgrading of the flats. That the Coronavirus has now put a stop to. The thick-framed, rain-letting in, light & view-blocking windows, with the ledge that sticks out too far for me to see what is below, Fire engines etc. or see anything to photograph without using the step-ladders, which usually ends up with an Accifauxpas and personal injury! But, still, it came out alright.
I got the computer on and made some comment replies. Then got on with beginning this blog template, as far as here. During which, the rataplan of rumbling from the innards started, at the same time as the horrendously loud ‘Hum’ increased in volume as well! There’s no peace here!
I then made a start on updating the wearisome Wednesday blog. I don’t think I meant wearisome? Ah, a belated call to the Porcelain Throne, so off to the wet room.
Well, that was an odd session. It needed a little pushing, and the plop-plopping started, stopped, then it started again. The room, (Possibly the whole flat) filled with a distinctively evil-smelling, mephitic aroma that I could still smell hours later! There was no mess at all, the nugget-shaped evacuation cleared away first pull of the chain. Minimal bleeding from the rear-end and Little Inchies fungal lesion was not leaking at all? I felt a smidge light-headed when I rose from the Throne, a good job I had the four-pronged stick with me. The fragrance seemed to follow me out and into the kitchen. I wondered if the out of use-by-dated meat I ate, might be a cause of this?
I did some more updating, then poddled to the kitchen to start the vegetable preparing and get them into the crock-pot.
I think I got carried away somewhat and made too much! Mushrooms, leeks, red onion and parsnips went in the pot (All my thanks to Jenny, who got them for me ♥). I added some gravy granules, hickory and light soy sauce. No salt needed with the Soy going in. I put it in Auto setting, which brings it the boil, then goes on to the low setting.
Blimey, toothache just came on without any signs or warnings. So bad, I tried to ring the surgery to get booked in – Closed due to Coronavirus! Ah, well! Now I’ll need some extra painkillers. But as I’m not allowed to get out to get cash or shopping in, how to get the Co-codamol is another unsolvable problem for me to contend with. I’ve a supply of paracetamol, but they are not very strong. A bit like me. Hahaha!
I then tried to get an order from Iceland. But, no! I’d hoped doing it earlier in the day might help, but no!
Then I tried for an Ocado one. Unbelievable! The site let me get all excited and make an order up, it took me a while, but I seemed to be going to get some things that I am out off. I was going to ring Jenny and ask if she wanted anything, that way I could pay with the card and settle what I owe her, Great! But no, I pressed the button to carry on, thinking I could add anything later that Jenny might need, and the No Slots Available sign came up! What a Con! Botherations and blasticulisations! Swine!
It cost me no end of time as well! ‘Do they think I’ve got nothing else to do, nowhere to go, no one to visit… Come think of it, I haven’t! Hahaha!
At the moment I got started on preparing the meal, the mind engaged one of its involuntary-unplanned ‘Panic Modes’. It does this now and then. Although it’s been a few months since the last time. This crushed my confidence and willpower. I tried the usual tricks to indurate my mind, and free the tension and worry. It was so discountenancing and ignominious. I can’t truly remember much of the following hours.
Not even taking this photo of the fodder, nor eating it. So, I have no taste rating or comments to make on what it was like. And, how come I took such a decent photo if I was not in control of the brain-box at the time?
I started to return jitteringly, back to my semi-normal state, as I woke up. So I must have fallen asleep in the recliner?
I found the kitchen tops all clean, and for me, tidy. The pots washed. And several hours had passed since having the meal. What took place in between shall remain a mystery.
I decided to get the hand-washing done, and then get a much needed, long-overdue ablutionising session done. But I was questioning everything I did with myself as I went along? The fretting continued in the background. But I was somehow, a little chuffed with myself for deciding to get the handwashing done. Maybe to give me something to concentrate on that was not too complexed, and block out the worrying?
Huh! The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry – as in this case! There was no hot water! I was not sure if the element had gone again, or I had left the tap running during my ‘blank-spell’. I still can’t find Jenny’s phone number, so Emailed and asked her if her (hot water) had gone off. She kindly emailed back that it was alright in her and Franks apartment. I decided not to worry, but phoned warden Deana just to inform her, got a Not-Available message.
So, no hand-washing, shave, teggies done or showering for me. I changed my plans and got back down in the recliner to watch some TV… and did as well. The earlier kip made getting to sleep properly impossible. I kept dosing for a few minutes and waking up repeatedly.
I think the phone flashed and rang. Unless I dreamt it had? Cause there are no recollections of who it was, or what about? I sensed that other stuff happened, but blown if I can recall what.
When I got off to sleep properly, I think I slept uninterrupted for over six hours! Which was good!
I’d just put this graphic on, and the Vampire Angel arrived! Tsk!
Wednesday 1st April 2020
Greek: Τετάρτη 1 Απριλίου 2020
02:10ish hrs: I woke-up, passed wind from the rear-end. Then struggled to get out of the chair. The one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged. While he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. The £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working – but not today, uncomfortable, rickety, ready-for-recycling, rinky-dinked, rattling, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away rusty recliner.
I clambered free of the seat, with a sense of urgency, and waggled, with bottom-cheeks clenched as best I could, to the wet room, with the middle right toe still aching from last nights stubbing! But it was a cunning false alarm! I sensed there was product in there, but it wasn’t having any effect on my efforts at encouraging any movement. So, I had a wash and wiped the contact points, and made for the kitchen. Took the medications, made a brew, and back to the computer room.
Where I noticed I had not cleaned up the area around where I knocked stuff over last night in my rushes to get to answer the phone. So a little clean up was performed, not a proper one, cause it was far too early to use the noisy hoover yet, and being as I didn’t have a quiet one, I didn’t. Hehe!
I kept on getting irritation on the arm when I caught it against anything, so had decker at it. A damned pretty artistic bruise had developed. (Clopidogrel or and Accifauxpas?) I thought that this should go with the leg photographs to the Tate gallery!
I got straight on with the WordPress updating on Tuesday’s post. I went to make another brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and when I put the teabag into the wast liner, I got a tiny little cut near the right-hand little fingernail. Which was no bother at all, cause I didn’t feel it? Thus, I knew that Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter nerves were starting to go on strike, so I took care in which hand to use for which tasks I needed to do – Clever that! Must experience be learnt by?
I had a nosey in the black bag to see what it was I’d nicked myself on, and found it was the lid of the can of Polish meat I’d had and enjoyed so much last teatime. And, oh, dear, I saw the sell-by date on it: The 15th of December – 2016! I did have a look yesterday I think, but must have seen the 15.12, and assumed it was this year? Feel a right Klutz, now! I’m hoping my innards will not be affected? Oh, dear, oh, dear! The meat tasted lovely as well!
Back to the updating. It got harder work, as Nicodemus’s nerve ends kept going AWOL, and so many errors were made. But I got it finished around 05:45hrs.
Then put a few piccies on Pinterest, sent out the Emails, and later on the TFZer Facebooking. It was a struggle, though. I’m not sure if it was Virgin Meda or FAcebook at fault. But things were very variably stuttery and slow. I added some photographs to my albums. It took me as long as it did to update the blog in the first place!
As I was finishing the job, another urgent summing to the Porcelain Throne arrived, in the form of borborygmic gurgling. Experience told me not to ignore it, and off I went to the wet room. “Argh!”, it was a painful, needing encouragement from me, evacuation. Messy, some indeterministic bleeding too. But at least not from Little Inchies fungal lesion. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not happy, and the stinging began! So, the cleaning up and medicationalisticalisationing was carried out.
I carried with this post up to here. Then went to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and while the kettle was boiling, I took some shot of the morning view, three from the balcony, and the last one from the unwanted, wet-letting-in, disliked, thick-framed, light & view-blocking new kitchen window, with the Canon camera. I might be the lighting available, but I was pretty pleased with the resulting photos.
It looks so quaint – but I assure you, it ain’t!
All the parked cars of the self-isolators, enforced isolators (like wot I am!), sent home workers etc. was a sad reminder of what we’re all going through. And not a single person spotted in any of the snaps, as far I could see, anyway.
I phoned Sister Jane and her Pete. But, I got a message telling me the call has been put on hold?II tried to ring her back. Got another message saying an ‘active call,’ is preventing the connection. Got her next try, and ‘Sod’s Law’, or ‘Gerry’s luck’, while she was talking and telling me off, the dreaded wet and warm feeling from down below appeared – I asked her to wait for a second, had a look and found the white PP’s were mostly red – the blood was flowing from Little Inchies fungal lesion! I explained and shot off to the wet room.
More toilet roll was used in cleaning things up. Washed the area, and a few Argh’s and Ouches were muttered as I was medicating things. Humph!
Made the brew, and got on CorelDraw to do some graphics for another template.
The usual weariness and fatigue dawned early in the day again.
Got the oven on and nosh started. A chance to use up some dated items from the freezer. The fish fingers in breadcrumbs, substituted for battered ones by Iceland. Not very tasty, I think they may have been made with pond sticklebacks? The well-out-of-date Twiglets, the donated by a resident for me tomatoes were grand. The Halloumi sticks passable, and the beetroot, perfect! Overall, a Taste-Rating of 5/10.
I went to do the washing up, and the landline lit and rang. It was my Angel Jenny, to tell me that the food she had added to her Sainsbury order was coming via Frank to be delivered to me. So kind of her to help me like this.
Especially as I can’t pay her back until I can work out a way of getting some cash from the ATM or somehow.
Minutes later, the doorbell chimed. I got to open it, and two carrier bags had been left outside by Frank. I was picking them up, and Frank’s voice said something to me, I couldn’t tell what he was saying, but thanked him.
As expected, Sainsbury’s were out of stock of some things, some substituted. The caramelised biscuits with Caramel wafers, but at least I can hand them back for Jenny to use, or share later with the Wednesday gang when, if, it ever gets back online. No bread or cobs substituted. As to be expected, in the current climate.
It is lovely that Jenny is helping, but I will not bother her again, until I can find a way to pay what I owe her, including the £25+ for this order. Bless her kind cotton socks. She helps so many people. I’ll manage somehow.
I put the things away, and spotted another tin in the tea cupboard! Of Pork Knuckle, Great! And, it’s still in date, only just, but still. Hehe!
I’ll have a beef cook-in-the-bag in onion gravy tomorrow. Now I have some leeks and parsnips to add to it, thanks to Jenny & Frank.
I got settled down, in hopes of getting some sleep, but the mind was buzzing with problems and not letting me relax. Eventually, much later, I did nod-off… And the landline rang and flashed! It was a lady asking for Angela and Frank. I explained this was the wrong number, but I did not know the telephone digits of Angela and Frank, who live on the top floor. The poor lady sounded so disappointed.
Back down on the £300 second-hand, not-working, uncomfortable rickety recliner, in search of sweet morpheous, which was in no hurry to dawn on me. The Thought-Storms started and stayed with me a while. After the half-asleep prognosticating, I felt so confused, low, incapable, and pathetically self-hating.
I did get off into the land of nod – but had the oddest of dreams, and it was so lucid afterwards, I wrote down bits I could recall on the pad. I’d died if osteofluorosis, and they would not let me into heavens gates. St Peter (In the dream, Housing Patch Manager, Angela Gould), refused to let me in until I had got a disclaimer from Glengettie… I was returned to life and earth to fetch one, and everyone was dead. Bloody Coronavirus, I cursed! And, walked (I was the same age, but all my ailments had gone?), around the shops to get food, but everything had gone mouldy, and not a tin opener to be found anywhere… Suddenly, I was in New York, the same scenario, all dead… As I walked between the abandoned dead body filled vehicles, a rhinoceros came charging at me, stopped short, and licked my face? This beast knocked me down a drain… After that, it all goes vague.