Tuesday 3rd April 2018
Dutch: Dinsdag 3 April 2018
0255hrs: I woke and lay there a while to gather my thoughts when the brain joins in with the body and comes to life. The mind united with my blubbery body and cascaded into my head, philosophies, axioms, theories, fears, trepidations and a twitchiness that I have never suffered before. Some form of paramnesia? It took me a while to clear most of these perceptions and unfathomable nervous concerns from my grey-cells.
0305hrs: The extraction of the body-mass from the £300 second-hand recliner was almost effortless and mostly pain-free. (Confusing as to how this can change every day, I seem to wake-up a different person physically each morning?)
Off to the kitchen to have a look what the weather was like. But I could not get out of the new windows to take a decent photo, so I nipped into the spare room to make this one.
Getting the tablets, sphygmomanometer and medications out of the drawer, I dropped the olive-oil dispenser, and the rubber end-squeezer broke, distributing the Olea Europaea as mentioned earlier over the floor. Fancy that, I said! After Sunday’s farce in not being able to get back up after getting on my knees to clean this same floor, I got the mop and bucket, using these to clean-up.
Feeling rather proud of my achievements, I emptied the water from the bucket into the Porcelain Throne and spilt some dirty water over the bowl onto the wet room floor! So refilled the bucket with clean water and disinfectant and mopped up. I might have muttered something along the lines of; Botherations!
Back to the kitchen once more. Made a brew an did the Health Checks
The Sys has come down at last, and the pulsation rate increased a tad too.
Took the medications with a small mug of the Assam tea.
To the computer and made a start doing the updating of yesterday’s blog. Got it finished and posted off to WordPress.
I had a look at the Nottingham Weather forecast for this week.
Seems like showers, thunderstorms, rain and cloudy for this week, then. Fiddlesticks!
Then I started this diary off. I broke off to have a look on YouTube, watched a video on the Grenfell Fire. London Fire Brigade had stopped using the high-rise ladders some months earlier. A spokesman said, they would not have made any difference. Then they said they were going to use them (Long Ladders) again! People were getting phone calls from relatives trapped on the higher floors, with no hope of rescue. One family, who all died, had rung the fire brigade eleven times, each time they were told to stay in their flat and await rescue! Brigade officers all thought people should have been ordered to make their way out. Perhaps some would have been injured or wounded in the ensuing panic, but he felt that fewer people would have become statistics than there was by telling them to stay in their apartments.
This upset me somewhat, naturally. I had tears coming down my cheeks. I closed down the computer and got the ablutions started.
Had a good session. Took the black bags to the rubbish chute.
Noticed the rain was beginning to fall a little as I got ready to leave.
As I was just about to open the door, a knock came from the other side of it.
It was a plasterer-bloke, who asked if he could do the plastering on the balcony window now, cause he’d had been let down with arranged appointments.
The plasterer looked so sad. So I agreed and then left the door unlocked and shot off and down in the lift.
Some naughty person had left the fire doors wedged open in the foyer. Tsk!
I went through and outside, the drizzle was trying to come through, and the sky kept going dark as I walked along Chestnut Walk.
I stopped to take a picture of the works around the flats, en route to the Obergruppefurheress Wardens HQ and Social Hut. I remembered there was a meeting later today, one of the instructional ones about new things being fitted.
I pressed on the shack. Where a good few residents had gathered. Jenny was organising things for the meeting later on. Cindy and Eric, Big Bad John, Welsh William and about five others were there. I had a chinwag with the ever heartening Jenny then pulrcritudinic Cindy, I’d remembered to take Cindy’s nibble bar.
The bus came, and as it started to rain, the L9 arrived, so none of us got wet. (But I did not get excited, for my EQ told me things were going to get complicated and harassment would follow. It’s rarely wrong, unfortunately.
Had a go at the crossword on the bus. But gave up, my concentration was not right.
Dropped off on Upper Parliament Street, and hobbled up Broad Street up to Hockley and turned right up to and down Victoria Street.
Some retail buildings at the end of Broad Street had closed down and been vandalised. But the ever-optimistic plutomania-ridden Estate Agents had still placed the For Rent signs up.
The Poultry, where the trams run up and down, (When are haven’t broken down, knocked someone over, had a crash, or had a technical failure, that is of course) and where the ‘Posh Shops’ are. I’ve no idea why, there is insufficient parking for tenants and owners, let alone the shoppers being barred from parking on the street. The shop on the right, well, bar actually, is where the stabbings were last month.
I limped down the road and took this photo of the back of the Little John bell tower.
The drizzle started to come down again, but not enough for me to get the umbrella out yet.
Carried on down to the end of South Parade, and over the road then left down onto Wheeler Gate, to the Poundland store, and had a look around, hoping they may have some Magnesium tablets on sale. Nope! I still ended up spending £9, though. Chocolate Brazil Nut misshapes, chocolate almonds, some nibbles for the Social our handouts, including some half-price easter eggs. Biscuits as raffle prizes, and two packets for myself, of Raspberry jam Viennese at 2 for a pound. And some yoghourt covered peanuts. I also got two large easter eggs for only £2, an Aero and chocolate button one. Oh, and a packet of Earthworm Pellets to feed the Mallard with on the canal.
I exited the shop, and hobbled along to the end of Lister Gate and through the dying Broad Marsh Centre (Mall) and out and over Collin Street and down Carrington Street, over Canal Street and up to the canal.
As I was leaving the centre, a young girl was sat against the wall and asked if I had any money to spare. The unfortunate thing had blotches and spots on her cheeks. I told her no, no money, but I do have an easter egg for you. I handed it to her, her face lit-up and she thanked me. I think the novelty of being given something to eat, cheered her a little.
Apart from the drugged up alcoholic youth who is apparently a well-trained member of the Nottingham Pavement Cyclist Squad, as he rode off of the pavement onto the road without even looking, while drinking from a bottle, not using the handlebars, and undoubtedly unconcerned about the Highway Code. He probably thinks the Highway Code is a new form of Asian Flu. Hehehe!
You can see the last bit of the Broad Marsh Bus Station and car park as it is being demolished.
When I arrived at the Nottingham Canal, I stood a while letting memories flow to and frow. This is the canal that I got thrown into when I was about five or six years old. Although not from this bridge, one further along.
This got me thinking deeper, nearby was the spot I used to wait for Dad to arrive in his British Railway Horse and Dray, then later the British Railways Karrier Bantam articulate lorry and trailer.
I looked over the side of the bridge, to see a bloke sharing a bag of glue with another, and smoking a slightly thick roll-up between them. I thought they were risking things a bit, I felt that adhesive was susceptible to burning?
I moved to the other side of the bank, in case the gentlemen saw me took offence.
There were no mallards about again today. However, the Canada Goose (My sweetheart from Canada, Pattie, told me off for calling them Canadian, it’s Canada), and the pigeons enjoyed the pellets I threw down for them.
I made my way back a different way, through the shopping mall going in from another entrance, into where the Wilko store is. I called in to get some Magnesium tablets. I couldn’t find any, and no one was about to ask. So I went to the pay desk and inquired of the lady there. She went to have a look for some but returned with the news that they do not have any in stock. Shame that, if the hand or leg cramps cone on tonight, I will suffer. She said you can try the shop next to Brighthouse. So, I thanked her and visited the store. Again, I could see none on the shelves. I asked a young lady, and she shouted out for to a youth, in nappies (Well, he was very young, Haha!) to look for me. Negative again. They only had some Magnesium tablet that had Vitamin E in them.
I started to make my way to the other end of the building, to call in the Boots to get some of my tablets, and noticed the Heron Food Store was still open, so I wandered in. Another mistake! I came out with biscuits, biscuit, biscuits (Well they were very cheap!), some nibbles to go in the hand-out box, a box of belly pork and sauce to cook for nosh tonight, some gammon end-bits and some biscuits. Hahaha!
When I got near the Boots store, several officers of the law, (I didn’t realise Nottingham had so many left nowadays) were sectioning an area off from the public. Thus, I never did get any Magnesium tablets, Phuh!
Back into town and caught the Lp bus back to the flats. Met tenant Mary (I think that’s her name, I get confused you know), and we had a natter on the bus back.
Dropped off and called into the Obergruppenfurhresses Hut.
I was still in time Jenny told me, to get to the flat and drop-off my bags the get back in time for the meeting.
So I shot off and to the apartment.
Took this photograph as I hobbled along, feeling in rather a decent mood for once I was indeed.
Getting into the outer hallway to the three flat’s doors, was so disappointing and instantly down-heartening. Worse than that really!
The state of the carpeting was terribly dirty and covered in bits of plaster and its dust, from the plasterer’s workings I assumed.
With trepidation, I entered the flat.
I have made a post about this incident and the effect it had on me, I’ve already posted it, mostly just all the photographs of the mess!
He’d left plaster in the kitchen sink, every carpet had residue, lumps of half-dried plaster and dust all over them!
Curtains left on top of the heater! He even got plaster spilt on my little corner shelf unit. Plaster on the windows. Plaster on the armchair.
Every time I walked anywhere, I was spreading it around and making things worse! I was in a panic!
I spent an hour or so trying to hoover and brush up the dust, deep-set, lumps and granules from the carpet. All I achieved was the hoover battery ran-out, and I slipped when using the scrubbing brush to try an loosen the crap on the floor, bruising my knuckles. Then, trying to get back up again, hit my head on the door frame!
I decided that I must go to Sherwood and try to get some carpet cleaner, and magnesium tablets if I remember too. Even with Duodenal Donald and Dizzy Dennis nagging away at me. (Thanks again to the health-threatening so-called improvement works). Looked like I was getting Nervous-Hives coming back again on the head and face? Humph!
Off to the shed, where I asked for advice on what type of cleaner to get. Jenny and Cyndy suggested Vanish. I told them of the mess. Then set out to hobble to the shop.
I met with Obergruppenfurheress and Obergefreiteress Wardens Dean and Julie further down the road. I began to tell them of my problems. But, the rain started belting down at that time, Deana told me to talk to them later in the day and in the dry of indoors. I went on a few paces and thought I would return to the flat, as the rain really got nasty then.
Got in and I was in a right mood with myself.
I made up the extra post with the photos of the mess left by the plasterer and posted it.
Now I was really getting ratty. This was due to it already being past my head-down time, and I was nervous about not getting up in time for the blood test in the morning.
Stupidly, I decided to update this diary. Which tool hours further.
Got the meal (Belly Pork) in the oven cooking. Now, my head-down time was really, well gone.
Got the fodder served up. It looked and smelled terrific.
It was terrible tasting! I don’t think I ate a quarter of it. Perhaps my being depressed and morose about the way I’d been left in the quagmire and let down by the plastering chappie and lack of response to my plea for help?
I wrapped and binned most of the meal, had a wee-wee and washed the pots.
Did the Health Checks.
Even the beautiful sun-going-down sky photographicalisation was taken without any genuine appreciation of it, just automatically.
I felt right down in the dumps, bitter and twisted silly thoughts invaded my thoughts as I waited for sleep to arrive. Pondering over the execrable way I thought I had been treated, with contempt, by leaving me with all this hassle and worry, and as I wrote earlier, Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyne and feeling so isolated and nervous. Maybe I am suffering from GAD?
Worried about getting up in time, with it being hours beyond my usual Head-Down time. I don’t want to be late at the surgery for the blood test.
Sorry for being so down-in-the-mouth and despondent.
I hope for good news, help (Changes for the better) and cheering myself up soon.
But I won’t hold my breath! Hehe!
Life is not so good with all this undeserved nasty extra-hassle.