Ode: Life used to be…

Warning: Bubonic plague may seem like a part of the past, but it still exists today in the world and in rural areas of the U.S. and in Asia. The best way to prevent getting plague is to avoid fleas on rodents such as rats, mice, and squirrels.

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ODE: Life used to be…

Full of the dying from the Black Death, Bubonic!
Cause in those days people were thick but stoic,
This Ode will not be in sequence, or chronologic,
Cause I’ve got arithmophobia, to me, they’re acrostic,
I imagine in times prehistoric,
Cave dwellers were less prone to be phobic?

The caveman club was used automatic,
To fight with others, they say… and things domestic…


When a bloke wanted him and her to get at it?
Nowadays, it’s a counsellor? It’s not so dramatic!

In my young days, romance for me was minimalistic,
As were and still are, my tools used only periodic,
I think this Ode is getting confused, semantic?
Cause I think I’m becoming a smidgen autistic?

You know, I used to be somewhat nomadic,
Walking, then on my bike, a Raleigh classic,
Then the motorbikes, I was very enthusiastic,
Bought a three-wheeler – a Robin made of plastic!
Several four-wheelers, then a 4×4, fantastic!
Now no more, I’ve moved on up to a walkingstick,
Heart replacement, Cancers, Stroke, I’ve been sick!

A new walker guide, I’ve named it Dominic!
Deaf-as-a-post, I can’t hear it, the traffic!

Nowadays, so many folk Islamophobic some Israelophilic,
A reading of 168 this morning for the systolic,
A low reading of 54 for the diastolic?
No longer fit enough to be peripatetic,
In fact, life can at times feel rather pathetic!.

Seeing old photos of me can be ironic,
Even if I felt at the time supersonic!
The losses can make one feel threnetic,
This is Susan, she was warm and athletic!

Things so changed, using so much antiseptic,
My hair has gone, the mind too, and I’m feeling asthmatic,
Shaking all over, deaf, diagnosed a diabetic!
There’s little left of my body that’s authentic!
The nurses who call are sweet and charismatic!.

The carers visit, although it’s not automatic…
A few of them are disinterested and apathetic,
Most of them are kind, one even erotic!.
At times have a natter, albeit we can act idiotic!

Next week, I’m going for treatment, electrotherapeutics,
Not sure what it means, but it sounds futuristic,
It worryingly also sounds sadomasochistic,
For my Peripheral Neuropathy, I like the therapeutic,
I hope I get a mug of tea and a biscuit?

I’m a bit concerned about this! Hahaha!

Part of the Inchcock Make ‘Em Laugh-In Rhyme Series

Inchcock’s Little Odes

A selection of mini-odes, created while Inchcock awaited the arrival of the Meridian Carer that did not arrive to issue him with his medications. Regrettably not up to his usual standard of humour content, due to the agony he as in, with Duodenal Donald complaining about not getting his morning dose of Omeprazole capsules; by way of giving the old man severe stabbing pains!

That’s five times in two months Meridian have let him down; They tell him this is to be expected, and Meridian are better than many Carer Companies. The gullible old sausage!

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Reverend Salmon once told me I was adiaphoristic,
But, not wanting to sound autistic,
Nor admit to my being ungrammatic,
I said I was sorry for being troglodytic,
And shot off home, feeling pretty thick…

I looked up adiaphoristic, not in the dictionary it would seem,
So off to the library, search books that were encyclodepian,
No computers then, not a laptop or touch screen,
I found what the meaning twas, summat to with the bible book,
It baffled me; I couldn’t understand the explanation, Tsk!
I had to look up answers in another book…
I’d have been at the time about thirteen,
Back to the Chapel, a visiting Dean,
More problems unforeseen…

I mistook him for Reverend Salmon, it would seem,
I said to him, there is no such word as adiaphoristic…
With teeth that did gleam, he called me a silly Virgoian,
And clouted me around the head, that wasn’t very Christian!

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I bought it, taxed and insured it, and took it for a spin,
Bodywork? I could not detect a single dent,
Mechanically, engine-wise, a deep throaty, din,
Summat did spoil my enjoyment…
The rust was already settling in!
It gave me a certain feeling of empowerment!
It easily fitted Grizelda and me in…
The cheque bounced for my downpayment…
I was soon back to walking the pavement!

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SISTER JANE

I thought I’d just do a Sister Jane Ode
Now she, too, is getting old…
But she doesn’t look it! ♥

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Inchcock’s Sunday – In Ode

Mud Gorning

Today’s Intention

To make the bestest ever chilli bean con-carne for Josie!

I awoke, full of youthful spring, on a high!
Jumped out of the recliner, nice and spry,
I moved so quickly, my body sinewy…
Then I wondered, why? Why why?
It was cause I was dreaming…
So that was a lie!

Woke up proper, and the feet were aglow,
Red they were, great; I sang a divertimento…
No pains or pot-marks on foot or toe…
No bloating at all, although…
I’ll not get excited; I’ll see how it does go!.

The moon still just glowing, up in the sky,
I tried to take a good photo, I did try…
But they didn’t come put well, Sigh!
I was not disappointed enough to cry!

Washed and got on the computer to work,
Got to start this blog; I will not shirk…
Even if I get it wrong, and feel a burke!
But it took me seven hours to do, what a twerk!.

Can you see no lousy parking in the end car park?
First time for over a week now,
Spying on neighbours… innit a lark?
But I enjoy doing it somehow!

Started to prep Josies’ meal, with assiduousness,
How it will come out, tinged with capriciousness,
My determination was keen, even veracious!
I pressed on, for once not losing my focus,
Took my time conscientiously, no rush…
Sister Jane rang me, thus the distractedness,
But lovely to chinwag, even with partial deafness,
Tasted the progressing food with curiousness…
Oh, to my tastebuds, a lovely flavour did gush!.

Gave it some tweaks…
Beef, beans, Tomatoes, peppers, and leeks,
Best I’ve made for weeks…
Added some sliced steaks…
And, no cuts on the knife, for heavens sakes!
Saying that, as one of my renowned mistakes!.

Stabbed missen with the skewer, what a clot!
But it didn’t bleed a lot,
Then burnt my finger, the pan was hot!
Then dropped a shallot…
Also forgot to put in the carrot!
Oh, that was three things on the trot!
Still, I dun well don’t yer think…What?

All ready to dish up anytime now, success!
Oh, I hope it shows taste and deliciousness,
I got it served on the tray with daintiness…
Nothing too much bother for Josie’s,
Determination today was dauntless!

My search for perfection was ceaseless!.
Got it delivered, without any clumsiness,
She liked the look of the food, and thus…
Had a little chat, and Josie took in in a rush!.

I was contented with my actions taken thus,
Onto the computer, and I got an afflatus…
I’ll do the blog before cooking my potatoes,
But there came a sudden hiatus!
Rushed to the Throne, but twas not calamitous,

Twas a long, challenging evacuation, somewhat circuitous,
The crossword book nearby, that was fortuitous,
Pain, messy, the Germoloid was medicamentous,
All done, left feeling I’d done summat momentous…
And found another bill from the dentist had been sent to us!

Bungleackers!

Just took a tumble going to start my meal prepping.

I got cooking this wrong, no idea why!
I forgot the mushroom, chestnut fungi,
It looked fine. I used the usual formulae,
The meat tasted awfully dry,
Tasteless spuds, my culinary skills died?
Thank heavens Josies tasted good; that, I can verify!

ArrivuaAriverderc... Arf Weider… Cheers!

Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales Of True Woe Series

Inchcock: Confusions In Ode

I woke up; well, I got that bit right; here’s a tidbit…
No leaks from Little Inchy, nor bleeding too…
I actually thought waking up deserved a plaudit,
Checked the overly stomached body, legs two…
Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley twitching at my body audit,
The bruise on the knee had turned from red to blue,
Down the Protection Pants; crumbs from a biscuit!
Nocturnal nibbling guilt did ensue…
Then working out what day, month and what time is it?
The innards erupted, wind escaped from the rear. Ooh!
A massive dump I was about to inherit…
Probably due to last nights far-to-large bowl of chilli stew?
A visit to the Porcelain Throne was urgently due…
It was agony, messy, bloody, and massive, I can tell you!!

The Social Worker asked if I’d like to take up embroidery?
Is she serious, or is this tomfoolery?
Last month when she called to see me dress,
It was like a shockumentary!
She saw me struggling to dress and making a mess…
Getting my socks on buffoonery!
Putting the trousers on was full of stress,
I fell over; that did not impress!
Then saw my arm shaking as I shaved; it was bloody!
Viewed the sock-glide battle, which always causes me distress…
Now she thinks I can thread a needle?
Good God, I struggle to get Little Inchy out for a piddle!

I try to avoid getting the reputation as a badass,
Like I did when I was drinking from a beer glass,
I’ve a new reputation now, well two, one as a tight ass…
The other, rather unfairly as a wiseass!
I just get myself down on my palliasse,
Pass involuntary wind from my flatulent ass…
Sorry about sounding a bit crass…
And wonder what the hell I’ve done with my bus pass?

The last time I went to town it went all askew!
I got soaked waiting at the wrong bus stop, for a No22
Not been out for weeks, a hobble is long overdue,
Finding the bus pass might be an issue…
And remembering where the bus goes to…
What times it runs, get on the right one, first go the loo!
Walking: more painful now than doing jujitsu,
Get some food, veg, fruit… a melon, honeydew?
For the toilet, disinfectant and a Brobat blue,
The bank, my cards ready for a renew…
Oh, Inchcock, you silly old Moo!
Going out today you can’t do…
DWP will be calling to give me an interview…
That’ll be a confusing hullabaloo!

A few close shaves, but no disgruntled attitude,
Made beefburger, broke my tooth when I chewed,
Then dropped the mug when I brewed…
Onward I pressed and continued…
Time for the Porcelain Throne to be used…
I didn’t make it in time, now I’m really screwed!

Talk about being embarrassed – more disgruntlement,
Cleaned, washed, refreshed, out to the apartment…
A letter here, there’s an increase in rent!
Time to get lively, a shake-it-out session to augment…
Or just go deeper, into unhingement?

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Produced in Support of Protection Pants Makers

Saturday 6th November – In Ode

Bestirred!

Woke up, cramps in my toes were dying down; I checked on my feet,
Other than the tootsies, the feet and legs looked alright,
In fact, almost a pretty sight!
Send the photo to the Tate? I might!

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Mystery Music?

Moving my obese wobbly body, I heard a weird distant noise,
Mumbling, semi-musical, it could have been rumbustious schoolboys,
Seemed it might be coming from the end car park, which annoyed me.
I opened the balcony to see if I could spot the hobbledehoy,
Binoculars, camera, long-distance spectacles, but I had no joy…

A mystery to me, nothing untoward could I see… Oy-oy?
The music started; Thud thud thud, noisy? Oh, boy!
It suddenly stopped, what sounded like someone on a tannoy…
Rang out, then silence fell – wonder if it the local Choirboys?

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Fodder Preperationing

Perhaps the finest, best, tastiest Relish!
Although to deceased tastebuds, it’s a bitch!
To get your tonsils tingling and atwitch…
This is the sonovabitch!

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I’m thinking of getting a new, more robust padlock! Hehe!

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Good enough for little me,
Although they make me pee,
The cupboard door just swung free,
And I clouted missen on the knee!
Accifauxpas started early – Hehe!

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Which means…

More hand washing for me to do,
But I’m not getting into a stew,
I’ll get the clothes looking brand new,
And then I’ll make a Glengettie brew!

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Ah, kettles on, I’ll photo the view.

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.

I know what I’ll do now, the Blood Pressure test,
My first effort was not exactly my best…
I’ll do it again, at my own behest…
Oh no, excellent readings – I thumped my chest!
Yahoo! This reading is one of my best!.

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Late On Sky

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There followed, I’m not kidding, ten hours of slogging on the internet. Amazon, two more parcels are expected today. The tracker said for both of them; Today by 15:00hrs…, next check Today by 17:00hrs. Now it’s showing today by 21:00hrs! Being a Saturday, it is my day to select copy and file words to use on the Odes.

I was doing so well…

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WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP S

I decided to get the ablutions done and give me a break from the brain-work. Ablutions to do. It seemed such a good, logical idea at… at the time!

Oh, no! I got as far as the sink to get the nasal cleaning things out… I stepped backwards, intending to close the door, and lost my balance as I turned. It’s not that I tumbled back and came into contact with the doorframe then floor. That is the highlight of this incident…

It’s that, apart from setting Harolds Haemorrhoids bleeding and a smidge of pain – It how I bounced off of the door frame, I had no control with my going backwards; The miracle is that I hit the edge and slid down almost in slow motion! This slowed me down en route. Thus no serious bother whatsoever was caused! No elbow, arm or shoulder, or head-banging!!!Even Back-Pain-Brenda didn’t kick-off!

I know it must sound daft, but I felt over the moon with my luck!

But to be on the safe side, I abandoned the ablution session anyway.

I’ll do it later on when the Amazon has been… if it isn’t too late.

Otherwise, I’ll just stay dirty. Hahaha!

I Stayed Dirty!

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The Carer, whose name just escapes me at the moment, rang the door chime and entered. (I know, me forgetting something, it’s hard to believe. Hehe!) She did spot me dropping a tablet as I took them, a Codeine as it turned out, Tsk! I wondered what she was doing when she bent down in front of me… Hahaha! No bags were taken to the chute. So I took them with some more I made up. And considering my Accifauxpa earlier, I nipped along like a good un! Amazing!

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Getting Late Now

Sugar! I’ve missed the firework display again!
So, no photographs! Life is a strain,
The reason for this miserable failure, I put down to my hearing aids batteries both dying a death at the same time again,
It left me with mental pain and a damaged brain…
Not really!

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Ode To Sleep

Getting to sleep in the old days of the chimney sweep,
Meant using the services of the Nags Head, barkeep,
Which got me into fisticuffs and many a losing threap!
Get home, and the stairs seemed just too steep…
So I’d collapse noisily into a stupor and unsightly heap!

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Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales Of Woe In Ode – Series

Inchcock’s Analysis of the Accifauxpas and Whoopsies 4th day on the trot!

In Regrettably Execrable, Atrocious Rhyme

Wednesday: Accifauxpas & Whoopsiedangleplopitis were with me again this morning, but I wasn’t surprised after three or four days of this.

But I had some natters, very pleased with this!

Even had some brighter periods; these were bliss!

AMAZON COCK-UPS

Well, no, they haven’t been delivered. Semi-panic!
Another Amazon cock-up, like the Titanic!
I rang Warden Julie, her reaction was fantastic,
She checked Winchester Court, not there,
Rang me back, how altruistic!

AMAZON ACCIFAUXPA TWO & THREE

Most confusing. Is this a trick?

AMAZON ACCIFAUXPA AGAIN

Ungle-Clomp: thought about it… thud!

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Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was calm with me, as I took this photo,
Came out good for me, I celebrated with a Lemoncello,
Seeing the result, I felt a bit less of a Bozzo,
I gave myself a virtual pat on the back… Bravo!

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Encouraged, I took the view of the end car park.

ACCIFAUXPAS!

Took the picture, closed the window, then things got blurrier…
I noticed two tellurians, fell backwards, Clunk! Landed with a whimper,
But no damage and I didn’t lose my temper…
Just the back pulled, so no need to get schmaltzier!
Managed to get back up on my own, now I felt smugger!
The victim being poor old Back-Pain-Brenda…
A Codeine 30g, a mug of tea, and I soon felt a little betterer!

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WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP

The blood pressure was not good to be blunt,
But I was not overwrought,
Things would have been worserer…
If it had read nought! Hehe!

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INSTANT FATIGUE!

With the recent days’ hassle and bother, it’s been a game,
Wearying, tiring, frustrating, but I do not raim,
But no more could be done, I’m at end of my candleflame,
Rest, peaceful sleep… yes, sleep, that’s now my aim!
I’ll have a nod for an hour or so, then energy I can reclaim…

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!

With the recent day’s hassle and bother, it’s been a game,
Wearying, tiring, frustrating, but I do not raim,
But no more could be done, I’m on the end of my candle flame,
Rest, peaceful sleep… yes, sleep, that’s now my aim!
I’ll have a nod for an hour or so, will my aim be lame?

Got some nosh made, and me oh my,
Gorgeous tasting it was too… now for some shuteye!

NO PROBLEM SLEEPING THIS TIME!
I whoofed it down like Bruno from Popeye!
Cleaned the plate with bread, wiped it dry!
Put the TV on, though now I wonder why,
Within minutes it was wakefulness, good-bye!.

4 HOURS LATER, A CONCERNED CARER WOKE ME UP

ACCIFAUXPAS!

I realised it must be the night when the gal gave the medication,
Warfarin included a night only application…
I felt a touch of creeping self-derision…
At the dementia-made confusion and elision,
The Thought Storm started; is reality really an illusion?
The gal gave me a little chinwag, that helped my self-derision,
Making the Thoughts Storms absquatulation.

She didn’t take the waste bags on her way out,
Not nowt to worry about…
Cause I gave the toe a stubbing, that did make me shout!
That, I could have done well without!

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SURPRISE!

The Dettol arrived, that Amazon said I’d already had,
Which was something that didn’t make me sad,
What does, happened at Concentration camps & Stalingrad,
Many things make me mad, but they are too myriad!.

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The photo that I took earlier,

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WAS I RIGHT?

I made this graphic and posted it, before the Brexit Fiasco,
Before the masses voted for us to leave the Euro,
Sure enough, that’s just what we did, so long ago…
Some were full of joy, expecting things to improve, full of gusto,
Just look at us now, though…,

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WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP

A belated Accifauxpa!

Well, more selection of Whoopsies really,

Milk from the fridge, I knocked over the banoffee,
It fell onto the floor and broke, after hitting my knee!
Got down to clean it up, could I get back up?
I’m used to this, and did it all unemotionally,
Well, apart from the usual trepidity…
Getting back on my feet was painful, a pity,
Cause I stubbed my toe as well, that was shitty!
Then dropped the bloody milk bottle, what a whoopsie!
Cleaned up the mess again, expecting a satanophany!
Instead, I banged my elbow on the drawer, and writ this ditty!

Inchcock Gets Cosmetical & Medical Upgrade!

Billum from near Ohio said he could help me,
Said that he’d create medicines to make me feel pain-free!
And operate, to make me look less ugly & scary,
Of course, this could not be done for free,
There would be a discounted $150,000 fee!
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The Consultation

Nothing to worry about at all, he told me,
It’ll be painful, but very luckily,
You’re used to agony and have tolerability,
You’ve paid now, so no revocability!
Owt goes wrong, and I reject any accountability!
It may take a while, so first, you must take a wee-wee,
Operating, I don’t want to get sprayed with pee,
HRH Lisa will be assisting me!

They gave me an Aspirin and a shot of Drambuie,
They started; I prayed there would be no Whoopsies…
Or that I’d come out looking like a chimpanzee,
I wasn’t worried, not to any degree,
I could soon be pain-free and good looking? Yipee!
As I drifted off, I could see HRH Lisa, looking at me,
They told me I came around the following Tuesday!
But no mirrors could I see?
Billum said you look fine, you should write a ditty,
And gave me a mug of Glengettie!
No time for chinwag or causerie,
“I must fly, another patient waiting to see me”,
With that, off he did flee!
I joined Lisa on the settee,
She was very kind to me,
Gave me a mirror, I saw the reality…
Still, yer don’t like to complain, do yer?

Impugner-Inchy, Sunday 7th March 2021 Dairy – Argh! Sundays!

♥ The TFZer Garden of Love ♥

Care Home Sports – Hehehe!

INCHCOCK TODAY

Sunday 7th March 2021

Greek: Κυριακή 7 Μαρτίου 2021

00:00hrs: I stirred after sleeping for five-hours, but they were broken ones, disturbed by repeated wakings up, silly thoughts and nodding off again! Tsk! And a feeling of doom and gloom lingered in my tortured brain! Likely due to the series of dreams I’d been having!

I  boldly heaved and puffed away, freeing my abdominous over-bellied aching body from the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickeningly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, and rose up on my feet, to catch my balance. Argh! Both knees gave me pain; the right one, with Cathy Cartilage, was really keen and sharp! My hobbling was so slow and so carefully done after this. I realised and remembered then, the Morrison order delivered yesterday by the Amazon shopper! Me hobbling down to help him carry the stuff up to the flat. And the git just leaving all the bags in the front lobby of the building. The agony of all that walking and carrying brought thoughts of malice, hatred and revenge-seeking! Which soon dissipated, as I realised this is not my style! No matter how the chap treated me, hurt me, and caused me such discomfort, I must not lower myself to his and Amazon’s standards.

I was now feeling calmer in myself, although in pain still, thanks to the ignorant moron. (Whoops!) My mind was distracted (it does that a lot nowadays!), as the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived… and a gaseous one too, judging by the escaping bubbles of air (I hope!) from the rear-end. So, I made my way to the wet room with all available haste!

I’m so glad I didn’t hesitate; no sooner had the PP’s come down, the action started! Trotsky Terence’s revenge! Short, smelly, sticky, gooey… but no bleeding from anywhere at least! And just two flushes needed to free the bowl of the evacuated product! Mind you, I was amused to see after the second pull, bubbles continued to come back up from underneath the water in the porcelain for a few minutes. I took this photo of them, but they do not show up much on it. I swear I could hear a sort of gurgling noise as they came to the surface?

The cleaning up needed and medicating took me along time. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were very sore. A dollop of Phorpain gel was rubbed into the knees. And I realised that I had been sleeping, wearing the bamboo diabetic socks on last night! A ‘No-No’ that is! I pulled them down to see if the muscles in the leg had gone soft, and they really had! Naughty, Inchcock, stupid, Inchcock! I’m not going to bother to take them off now, though; I’ll do it later when I handwash them with the shirt. I do feel a fool – I’ve never done that before? I must have an advice notice somewhere about what to do if you do sleep in the hosiery. I recall getting one from the neurologist at the Mary Potter clinic? I may have to get help in searching for it, Hehe!

I went through to put the kettle on and a wash-up… Unglefrogwogglings & Thunderbogworthyness Idiot! I’d left the hot water tap running again! Stone cold! I’ll miss doing this when I snuff it! Hehehe! But I was so angry with myself!

Instant Ode assembled: I made a brew to drink and stew, but what can I do? Doomed, I will be! Deaf, can’t hear running water and cannot wee-wee! In pain and pissed-off with me! I’m a social outcast, an old logicality-abortee! Not a good rhyme, but it flowed out easily enough at the time!

I nipped out on the balcony to take a shot of the view. But the Canon camera does no do night shots very well, as you can see with the results of my photographicalisationing!

I’m not sure what I changed on the camera or how I did it if I did. But the ratio came out different to the usual wide mode? As I checked on the selector on the camera, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) had a go at me, and I turned the dial, so I could not identify which option I’d selected. Not that many of them mean anything to me.

I returned to make the brew of Glengettie tea, passed wind, considered if I needed to return to the Throne, decided not, and got the Health Checks done. At least these photos came out in the proper ratio-shape?

The body temperature was 36.4°c – 97.5°f, but I cannot access the Excel log record because Microsoft was updating again and wouldn’t give me access!

I think it was better than yesterday, anyway.

The Boots Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, worked for the first time today. Revealing a high SYS of 170, SIA at 80, and the Pulse down to 85.

I got on with updating the Saturday Diary, not that much needed doing. I soon had it all finished.

I went to the NHS BP site and input my figures. Oh, dearie me! Way-up in the red today!

Today my BP was well in the red!

Perhaps, I might be dead?

I wish someone had said! Hehehe!

Hopefully, a nurse should be calling on Monday to take my Warfarin blood test; I can point it out to her if she’s not too busy.

No chance of getting through to the Doctor… well, I might, but I only get recorded messages about Covid. Then, the ringing tone, followed by another recorded message telling me they are getting an extraordinarily high volume of calls, please ring back later!

I know, I’ll ask them to bury me with a printout of the HP figures, providing Microsoft will allow them access, then they can read them too late to save my life, the high numbers involved? Good idea? Oh, damn! I’m being cremated, ain’t I! Hahaha! It’s such a warm, comforting feeling, knowing one is so cared for in one’s dotage and psychoneurosis years, innit?

Then, I emailed the link for the diary off. Pinterested some photos and went on Facebooking catching-up. I started sneezing repeatedly, and a few shivers went through me. Hello, what’s going on here? 

Then, I visited the WordPress Reader Section. This post was incredible; here is the link:

https://offcenternoteven.com/2021/03/06/ghost-mousies-in-the-sky/

An excellent parody song on this one. And a link to an older one, too; cleverly performed! You should like both of these, for the tune and Spunk, the pussy cat antics with a mouse!

https://photos.tandlphotos.com/blog/2017/9/spunk-fought-the-mouse-and-the-mouse-won. 

I went on the WP comments reading and answering.

Soon be time for the Ablutions to be done, I’ll have a mug of Glengettie tea and a nibble, methinks.’

Ablutions: A remarkably calm, almost injury-free session. Fewer dropsies than usual! Nasal, teeth cleaning, even the shaving was cut-free! The showering smooth and safe. The medicating went just as well. However, getting dressed proved painful! Only two accifauxpas (but they felt like dozens!) Hehe!

Getting the socks on, I actually felt proud of not using Sock-Glide-Glenda. But wish that I had afterwards! Two tumbles, one for each sock! Stopping the bleeding from the hip where I hit on my way down took a while and much medicating. The left-leg fiasco had me going backwards and sliding slowly down the door! Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not pleased in the least! Ah, well! Oh, the sleeping in the bamboo socks had left me with some new blotches. The old ankle-ulcer wound was itching like mad! So, I put 100% cotton socks on today. Cathy Cartilage looked a bit temperamental, too! No wonder she’s giving me such jip!

I made a start on prepping Josie’s meal. Tomatoes, cheesy mashed potatoes as she likes them with plenty of Leicester cheese, well-buttered. And some Scottish Kippers with butter. A blotch of her favourite cheese, unopened so she can eat it anytime. A limoncello and strawberry dessert, and delivered it to her door. I wobbled a bit with the tray as I sneezed and spilt some butter from the kippers onto the tray as the gal opened the door. She was not impressed with me. Also, when I got back, I’d forgotten to photograph the meal! Ah, well, you can’t win em all!

I got in and sorted the eight black and blue bin bags. Then, I got them on the box with the others on the walker-trolley and off to the waste room. It was a deathly-quiet Sunday routine. But to perk things up a little, I trapped a finger in the cast-iron chute lid. I swore mildly and then returned to the apartment.

I got the handwashing done, only two pairs of long bamboo socks, and hung them above the kitchen sink to drip dry.

I moved the leek and potatoes from the crock-pot into a saucepan on the hob. They smelt good! Then got a ring-pull can of Stewed Steak, but as usual, things don’t go right for me very often! The ring-pull came away from the can! On the label, do not open this can with a can opener, hand or automatic – Use the ring-pull for access! Well, that advice was crap, then! I tried it nervously on the auto-opener, of course, but it didn’t work; the ridge was far too high for the blade. Now, what do I do?

I tried again at an angle; and was not sure if I’d drop the can, machine or both, but it worked somehow. This was mainly due to the respite from SSS (Shuddering Shoulder Shirley) and NN (Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters). I went into a bit of Smug-Mode! Then poured the contents into the saucepan and added Best Bisto Gravy granules and an Oxo cube to the mix. Gave it jolly good stirring, and after a while, I had a taste… Not bad at all!

I gave Sister Jane, well, husband Pete, a ring. I felt sure it was this week that he had to go back to the hospital for a conference meeting with the doctor. Thought I’d cheer him up a bit first. But no, I was wrong again. It was Sister Jane’s turn this week! So I had a chinwag with her, but it was a farcical effort; we both seem to have hearing problems now. Hehe! Wished her well for the Doctors visit and chatted about nothing that mattered. But I enjoyed it, all the same.

Then I tried to get a slot with Sainsbury’s for next Thursday or Friday. But they only some free on Wednesday 10th March. I got an early one, 7>8am. Made the order and decided to start sorting my own meal out.

All the time and effort was well worth it. Although I spent a long time cleaning the pans first, it was still hot enough when it came to eating them. All it was, was a well season pot of canned stewed steak, potatoes and leeks. A flavour-rating of 8.8/10!

I put the pots and tray in the sink to soak overnight and settled to watch something on the TV. Ah, I remember now, it was ‘Kitchen Nightmares’.

The sleep soon came, but it was a sad night again; I was forever seeming to wake up, with dim memories of a terrible dream, but could recall nothing, other than the sensation that I was young again during the nightmares. I think they may have been repeating ones? Maybe not, though.

Inchie’s Lockdown Escape Advice (To four holiday locations in a day) Oh, Yes!

Can one cope with the lockdown, and still get vacationing done?

The piccies and odes below, show how Inchcock managed this fete, feet, feat!

I started my wondering, my holiday,

The junk room I was in, so I did stay,

Watched video, although no BluRay,

I viewed episodes, of Red Dwarf and Stingray,

Had nibble of yoghourt, strawberry,

By gum it was nice, to escape as they say!

My next vacation, to the kitchen, it was untidy,

Washed my socks and blue beret,

I was content, not uptight or snidey,

In fact, I was moving well, not torpidly,

I was relaxed, my mind working unhurriedly,

So I left the messy scullery,

Then went on a tour of the balcony!

The windows let in the ice-like rain,

Leaving me wet, cold and  unhappy again,

Although stubbing my toe was a pain,

But this trip out wasn’t mundane,

The bleeding left me with a bloodstain,

My slippers’ll have to be cleaned again,

But my sense of humour I did retain,

Porcelain Throne, needed, that I must not retain,

I hope it passes easily and is not a painful strain!

My most used and popular room of them all,

A place where I’ve had many a fall,

Accifaupas, Whoopsiedangleplops I have in there,

Well above my fair-share,

The wet room, always something to hurt, scare or enthral

Good stuff too, to be fair,

Sometimes on the Throne, I see passings in freefall,

Others, with blockages, nothing moves, at all,

Yes, the seat seems to get heavy wear,

At times in there, there’s little fresh air,

Bleach & disinfectant I do share,

It’s a losing battle, but do I care?

Sometimes, I think I must be bilingual,

Frustrated, my language can be, erm… individual,

Naughty words used, I do declare,

When the flush doesn’t work, despair!

No wonder I’ve got no hair!

Then there’s the Sock-Glide in there,

Gives me many a nightmare,

It nips, pinches finger-ends, traps your finger hair,

Blood flows using it’s unfair,

It drives me, nearly nuclear…

””””””””””””

I had planned to visit the ground floor,

But the situation down there was desperate for sure,

Trying to find a way out, I stubbed my toe,

Perhaps later, I’ll give it another go?

Still, I mustn’t complain, though!

Written on the spur of the moment, I apologise!

Inchcockski: Searching for Sanity & Logicality – In bad Rhyme!

Gerald James Timothy Algernon Archibald Inchcock

The Nottinghamian lad knows he is losing it, big time.

Mentally and physically, getting help is hopeless,

 He gets uptight, but he’s completely harmless,

Depressed, untidy, ill and charmless,

He can’t commit suicide, he ain’t got the time,

Even his words don’t properly rhyme!

 

WDP 1Lda

Inchcock: Sadly searching for Sanity

Somewhere, in his tortured labyrinth of a brain,

Lies logic, intelligence, but he can’t find them today,

The brain is active but rarely reliable or decisive,

Also, hesitant, feeble, and the memory’s gone away,

 Some details it retains, and admires he does say,

Mostly about medications, Red Dwarf and Will Hay,

 But his desire, longing for sanity, will not go away!

 

WDP 1L

 However, his efforts, hopes and plans are derisive,

 The mentality-seeking strategies are not conducive,

At least not for 74 years… that’s including today,

He redoubled his spiritual side, and started to pray,

Again in hopes, he’d be semi-sane again, one day,

He talks to his EQ, that’s hyper-sensitive.

 

WDP 1Lcb

He wrote to an Agony Aunt, that was digressive,

 He revealed all, and thought that was impressive!

She said she couldn’t help, and she was sorry,

But why did she throw herself under a lorry?

Inchy thought that was a touch impulsive and excessive!

Regaining logicality, will he ever find a way?

Or remain an idiot, until his dying day?

Another thing, why do his wee-wees always over-spray?

 

This blog was produced without a warning disclaimer.

No claims made for any educationalistical prowess of the author.

Donations and mental assistance will be gladly accepted.

In the event of the writer snuffing it, kindly donate to the Outer Peruvian Pregnant Kangaroo Appreciation Society, Nottingham Branch. 0115 999999.

Thank You

WDPT02L