Inchcock Today: Monday 16th May 2022

Monday, 16th May 2022

I was hoping for a better day!

Things stirred back to reality at 05:25hrs, after 6 hours of sleep and various periods of jumping awake. Making a total time being awake of two hours. Does that make sense? Sorry if not.

According to the best I can make out from the scribbled memory notes, the next occurrence was; P.Tarone Enight? Beats me!

I rose like a tried elephant from the c1968 second-hand recliner, grabbed walking stick Metal Mickey, and went to the wet room to get the Ablutions done.

But my dithering nature interfered, and I took the waste bin out of the wet room, emptied the others and made up some waste bags. Took them to the flat door.

It was drizzling outside, and as I put the kettle on, I took a photo of the road to the left of the kitchenette window. Plenty of trees on it get fresh air.

It’s no wonder I’ve never seen a for sale sign on the beautiful looking Cavendish Vale.

The skies were, I thought, ripe for a few minutes of pareidolia. I’m keen on finding figures in the clouds. But on this occasion, I failed to find any. Humph!

Well, apophenia, finding figures in anything, creases, reflections, cracks in floor tiles, and bulging veins. I’m experienced in that one, having more bulging veins than most people.

I made the tea, went to put the milk in, but diverted back to getting the ablutioning done.

Well, once again, it was a fair session. Fair enough, a few teeny-weeny cuts shaving, but no knocks and bangs, dizzies, toe-stubbings or tumbles. I didn’t engage the Smug-Mode… it’s early yet.

I even got out through the door without any shoulder-charging of the frame… Yes, go on then;

Got the laundry bag sorted. Made another mug of tea for the one I let go cold, and Dizzy Dennis gave me a few moments of concern… only a  short bout, maybe a minute at most. But it had me holding on to the stick and hastening to sit down. But Dennis disappeared, and I was fine when I stood up? There are no messages from EQ, but I think it may be another semi-harrowing day, somehow? 

Sunday’s photograph of the messy mud-slide onto the end car park on Chestnut Way. It has been known for Cataract Kathleen to do this to me! I hope I’ve not put this one on before?

This is this morning’s shot of the same area. I found some more of the indecipherable scrawl on the memory pad here, not the foggiest of what it meant. Try as I did, it remains a mystery,

A sudden robust rumbling from the innards!  I was all but too late, getting to the Throne in time in seconds. Trotsky Terence controlled the evacuation. Gawdawfull messy it was! Had to change the PPs (Protection Pants) I’d put on an hour ago! Ah, well, I got everything cleaned up.

Richard arrived late; he’d had a lousy shift, I think. The poor lad looked done in. He still had a look at the SD card for me. Putting it in and out to see if anything changed; and found that the card had split! He took the waste bags out with him for me, with my thanks.

I hope the new card works in the Canon and the reader accepts it. Praying here! I opened the card, full of hope and cut my finger on the plastic! Got it fitted in the camera (not the finger, the SD card), and I tried taking shots that I did yesterday to use here and test the system. Good heavens, it worked! So, I engaged in the use of the, with reservations. As you can see here, it worked.

Outside my Winwood Heights Independent Living block of flats, I hobbled out onto the balcony to look at what was. Conducted my Blood Pressure and temperature checks. SYS 154, DIA 68, Pulse 78, and the body temperature was a decent 34.1°c.

A couple of miles away, I took a zoomed-in shot of HMP, her Majesties Nottingham Prison. And thoughts and questions permeated through… “I bet they can see their prison Doctor or Dentist at any time?”, “They’ll get their cataracts done quicker than I get mine!” “They are not worried about the rent, electricity, food, transport, bus fares, etc. going up?” “Most likely, get their free computers mended for free!” They’ll not worry about forgetting to lock their doors either! Hahaha!

Gawd, he’s been at it again, almost one-stop since morning. Bang, tap-tap, scrape, thud, boing… I did not retaliate. After all, what is the point in haggling with the self-centred, impolite, insensitive, disrespectful, snobbish, haughty, pompous, pretentious, uppity, scoffing, contumelious, smart-alecky, and ineffable, cruel, unsympathetic, toffee-nosed, self-important, nyaff, noisy nasty man?
As luck has it, I like him.

Far too ridiculously late, I made a start on this blog. Of course, something had to go wrong…

Am I the luckiest person on earth, I asked myself?

Of course not!

That honour must go to Steve Fries, the bigwig of Liberty Global, Whose inability to send an uninterrupted internet signal to Nottingham earns him $23 million a year!

Jealous? Me? Yes!

Miraculously, it was only down for a minute or so this time; I felt almost happy about it! Temporarily!

I thought I’d better check to see if any messages or missed calls had been received while I was so busy being mucked about my Herbert and Fries. Still, Herbert entertained me with some clattering-about sounds.

Could I find the phone? No! There was worry but no panic initially. All I had to do, was go through all of my jackets and trousers that I’d worn since I last used the mobile phone (whenever that was). I vaguely remember putting it in a pocket and saying, “Don’t forget that it’s in that pocket!”

Within about ten minutes, I settled for Thursday, when the foot lady texted me telling me I was late for my appointment again… that was in the brain box! I engaged my Sherlock Holmesian Methodology, and first, I worked out when I last went out. Now, what was I wearing? Maroon jacket? Blur jacket? Black trousers, or green trousers? Was I wearing my trousers – nobody said anything.

After a heated discussion with myself, I narrowed it down to the green or black trousers; and the red or blue jacket, all of which were in the laundry bag. Then thought, aha! (I do that sometimes), It might be in the pyjama bottoms, two pairs of them in the laundry. I almost felt confident as I went into the back room to search for the clothing in the bag… I should have known better at my age and after many years of failed memory training!

Well, now I was getting hot under the collar! I smugly checked through every pocket and the bag… not sausage in there. (Not that I was after one, of course, a figure of speech and all that).

A lengthy search in each room and all the clothes hanging up in the front room and the hallway proved a failure, with no mobile to be seen. Of course, if I knew my mobile number, I could ring it and hope I heard it to locate it. Although if it was in a pocket, as I still believed it was, I might not hear it anyway… I rang the desktop dancer and Warden Deana to ask if she could ring the mobile for me, but to was engaged… oh, that reminds me; she is six weeks away from getting married; bless her, and a lucky fellow too… I digress again, sorry. I do tend to do that a lot.

I rummaged, rooted and ferreted about, delving into the most unlikely of places, all to no avail. Then a spark in the brain suggested that it may have fallen and gone underneath the cabinet or recliner? Worth a look, so I did…

I got the torch and was leaning on the arm of the recliner to get low enough to check the sides, with my intentions bravely being, if no success, to get on my knees to look under the chair. But as I was leaning forward and on my left leg – perfect timing from the Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, who gave me a flailing right leg out of control dance… Which naturally had me on the floor in seconds. The spectacles are now in a precariously loose state of repair. Also, I’ve got two newly bruised knees and a red cheek from hitting the arm on the way down!

As I was recovering and considering how to get back up on my feet, Deana came in at just the perfect time! She got me up, made sure things still worked with the legs, and laughed at the (at the time unknown to me) red patch on the cheek that looked like a clown’s make-up! Hahaha! Not really, but she should have.

Deana rang my mobile. I couldn’t hear it. But she found it, under the cover on the back of the computer chair… in a jacket pocket! I am totally losing it, and a twit!

Well, worra day! Again! It’s nearly 1700hrs now, so sleep looks like being late tonight. This blog is not halfway through yet! I pressed on with it like a mini but fat hero, determined to get it up to date…

♫Oh, Susana♫ rang out. I hobbled to the door (It was a pronounced hobble, the right knee was in some pain, Tsk!) and found Josie returning the jar that held the two meals for yesterday. Bless her, I could not hear what she was saying, but plashed a smile, mentioning Betty Bunter, bless her.

Arrived, soon sorted. Then, I had a go at catching up on Facebooking. Then comments on WordPress.

Got the nosh started. It is now passed 21:00hrs. It’s been another gruelling day. I caught my hand on the oven dish as I took it out of the oven. I believe I said, “Bother!”

Veggie burger, fries, tomatoes and some sugar snap crap Ecuadorian peas. I realised a small stale cake and an out-of-date, but I could not see the date, and tasting it realised it was rancid. The banana was okay, though. However, despite these minor upsets, the flavour rating given was 6.5/10.

Had a wash, and when I came out to do the pot washing, the great sky looked to me just like an oil or water painting.

I took my time taking the last photo, as it was zoomed-in and getting the Canon camera to hold steady enough for a decent shot was not easy. I probably had to take six or seven tries to get this last one, which is not very good. But retains something about it that I like.

I deleted the old snaps on the new SD card. Thinking it would be less confusing for Kathleen’s Cataracts, Doreen’s Dementia and me. But no, I only deleted two that had not been put on the computer yet! Hehe!

Getting to sleep was nigh on impossible; well, it was. The Thought Storms rampaging through the brain, self-hatred, shame, fear… I was in the right state. It’d been a messy day, but why this? I put the TV on, but that didn’t send me off. Utter worn-outedness did it in the end, around about 02:30hrs!

Still, yers don’t like to complain, does yer?

Alto-Inchies Ode on Inchcock

I’ve been a bit worried about Inchcock for many a day,
His brain has been loaded with worries & clamjamfry…
Doreen’s Dementia is getting more and more on display!
His memory is shot to pieces, bar some bits of scintillae,
He’s had two falls, one on Sunday, another on Monday,
His outlook, ideas and hopes become anachronistically…
If they come at all, his writing is full of godwottery!

But it wouldn’t help if he won the lottery…
He’s lost interest in anything financially…
His nest egg dwindling, becoming almost eleemosynary,
Worried over increases, rent, care, food, even his tea!
Electricity, travel, all risen in price, becoming too costly…
Will he get through it? There’s no guarantee…
If he tops hissen, what’ll happen to me?

Alto-Egos don’t always have it this easy,
Dominating Inchcock has been easy peasy!
Where will they move me? What human will I accrue?
Putin? His Alto-Ego could resign, but will he do?
I’d like to get at a human that’s evil, bloodthirsty!
For I fear I’ll get another docile twit like Inchie.

Written to create a laugh and or smile!

Inchies Tips & Advice for Whippersnappers, Ablutionalisationings & Medicalisationings

ADVICE & TIPS ON FUTURE AILMENTS TO COME

I’ve given myself a challenge here… Where do I start?
Well, I don’t want to sound like a worrywart…
But you may like to put this guide on a wall chart,
Get prepared, to wee-wee, bleed a lot, and fart?
To the wet room, with ablutionalisationing, we’ll start…

Well, getting your clothes on and off, will be a work of art!
The socks removal will hurt in every leg part!
Pants and PPs, shirt and hat off, you’ll be knackered,
By the time you start teeth cleaning, paddy-whacked!
Then the toothpaste to extract…
Peripheral Pete causing shaking hands, distances inexact…
Toothpaste on your chin belly and feet… it’s a fact!

Nasal clearing, avoid catching the new pustulation…
And shaking hands, need careful manipulation…
Stabbing up the nose can cause a concussion!
Due to the dying nerve-ends neurotransmission!

Then the eyedrops, they miss each time, despite my best attention,
Evolve drips anywhere but the eyes; to the mouth, via obambulation,
Oh, while I think about it, you’ll have to have a fundoplication!
Shaving’s the next job, which always causes apprehension!

You’ll cut yourself several times, no need for overreaction…
The Brut aftershave serves as a blood stopper medication!
Mind you, it stings, you’ll swear in protestation,
It’s just another necessary daily ritualisation!

Then comes, the dangerous part, of showering!
It’s no good fearing, and cowering…
It must be done, like an everyday thing!
Dizzy Dennis arrives, you stop the soaping…
Then drop the loofah, bend in retrieving…
Hit your bonce on the powerbox, your heads now reeling…
Loss of balance sometimes, a usual old folk feeling…
Then you often find yourself falling…
But getting back up is more appalling and galling,
Usually, you’ll drop things again…
But, to avoid any more pain,
You’ll kick it away, then you may start talcing?
Till you stub your toe, then start cursing!
But there are more things yet, that will be paining!

No mirrors in the wet room, I mention tactfully,
For fear, you’ll see your flabby midriff’s rotundity,
Which will bring on the depression, for a certainty,
You’ll find spotting your reflection, rather dismally,

Little Inchies Fungal Lesion will need ointmenting,
Especially if it’s been leaking and bleeding!
The certainty of agony needs acknowledging…
Some think this procedure, is bestiality, brutality…
I can tell yer, I don’t think about affectionately!
And I don’t tackle the job exactly bravely!

Arthur Itis knees to be Phorpained, to lessen rheumatically,
An easy enough task, although the limbs can get greasy…
It’s the Phorpain Gel, the box says it’s liable to flammability?
Still, a good massage and rubbing in seems to work easily.

MedPhorpain

The Germoloiding of Harold’s Haemorrhoids is a pleasure,
Always effective, instant relief, this ointment is a treasure!
But you can’t buy it when on a Special Offer…
Full price, cause the makers, want to fill their coffer…

You’ll be able to get a cream on the NHS, Anusol, but it’s crap,
And you’ll need to wear sunglasses and a hat…
Use walking aids, hearing aids, spectacles, blind as a bat!
Cataracts, Glaucoma and Saccades will be begat!
I’m getting mixed up here, where was I at?

I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above,
Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve,
But incident rates will never improve…
As you grow decrepit and old, it’s the truth!
There is no way to make things accident-proof…

I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above,
Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve,
But incident rates will never improve…
There is no to make things foolproof…

But there is a way, to ease them and help make them better!
You don’t believe me? I can hear you mutter!
But clean the wound, Give it a Germolene smother…
As antiseptics go, there is none betterer…
It soothes and cools wounds with no palaver…
Keep a tube in the first aid box, it’s a good manoeuvre!

You’ll lose any skill you had at handcraftsmanship,
Sewing, darning, woodwork, sculpting, or need a replacement hip,
A new knee or two, a mechanical ticker, ready for the crypt…
So when things start to fail and collapse, don’t lose your grip!.

Don’t look back at the days when you were nonhandicapped!
Or even when you could risk being back slapped,
Or when you were capable of being able and schlepped…
It’s important for you to be able to adapt!

You’ll only compare things, with now and then,
Your mental and bodily decline, remembering girls like Gretchen?
Your confidence, comparative memories, do not enrichen!
In fact, they have been known to bring on depression!
Recalling the romances, victories, how many were they, ten?
Your first fumbling grope – can you remember who and when?
The Auntie who always bathed you… you were happy then!
But such days will never return again…
Have you still got love letters, written with a pen?
The name of your very first kitten?
Or the first dog by which you were bitten?

When your life was considered to be sublime, Utopian…
Some details will be embedded in your brain, unforgotten…
But many of them inspire things you think were rotten!
Actions and decisions that were taken by you; were you forgiven?
Or like me; having Thought Storms of guilt and derision?

There is an ailment that can free you from making many a decision…
Vascular Dementia Doreen, she’s good at memory suppression,
Also, she jumbles up numbers and dates, like a statistician…
Or mayhaps, more like a politician?
That reminds me, the Dentist and Optician…
Appointments to cancel, that’ll cause derision,
Is it a pediatrican or maybe a metaphysician?
I might be better off with a dietician or magician?

Cataract Surgery is my latest thing worrying,
Two Phacoemulsification operations or something,
Then Glaucoma operations in both eyes…
Then there’s Saccades procedure right eye,
But worrying about it is not very wise
Seeing an assessor on 3rd May waited five months, irking,

So by the time you Whippersnappers get to my age,
The NHS will be a memory, but you should manage…
Unless there is a world war again, violence is savage!
The private owners of the hospital will add a surcharge…
£200 for a bandage, £30 to be unbandaged, if you haemorrhage…
£50 a pint lost, and for cleaning up there’ll be an added charge…
An entrance fee if you have to use the triage…
Visitors will be charged, £35 an hour on average…
£40 a cup of tea, £60 for coffee, £40, for other beverages…
Medications, an Aspirin at £35, according to dosage…
Visitors can have a variable-priced massage…
Grizelda £45, William too, either-way Brenda, £200 with frottage!

I think I got carried away there, sorry!

Inchcock Today: Diary with Odes

I’d like to start with my family, friends and flatmates here at Woodthorpe Court, in Sherwood, Nottingham

Roger Rabbit, waving to Lisa & Bill ♥

Their Mother & Father are my cyber-buddies, HRH Lisa, Billum and Alan, of Fort Thomas in the US of A. Lovely Gift; A smashing clan who sent them to me out of the blue, and I have a natter with them every morning! I made a family portrait this morning…


Inchcock Today

Whoops I woke up with a whopping great jump and jerk. It was of such magnitude it moved my body mass a few inches towards the edge of the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner. A few more inches would have had me on the carpet, cursing and nursing Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Hehehe!

Of course, that was the end of any sleeping, so I lay a few seconds to work out what day and time it was and any actions or activities required… But here was the watch? No longer on my wrist?

I soon found out what I’d done with it – fourteen hours later, I found it on the floor, behind the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner.

During the ablutionalisationing, I realised I had not got my watch on. “Ah, well,” I thought, “It’ll be on the ottoman!” Finished off and made a brew of Glengettie. But…

Refilling the kettle, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off. Talk about bad timing! Harrumph! The water went all over the previously washed and dried cutlery and crockery, down the front cabinet of the sink and down my trousers, socks and slippers, and onto the kitchen floor…

It took me ages to get it sorted and dressed again. I seem to be doing this a lot more often lately. Dementia Doreen? SSS? Peripheral Pete? Cataract Kathleen? Haha! Who knows which will get the blame.

Made a fresh mug of tea and got on the computer, rather pleased to be making an early start on the blog. Ha!

I had to do other jobs and kept nipping back to see if Liberty-Global, the company with a Revenue of: 12.98 billion USD (2021), who bought out Virgin Media Internet, are even worse than the scumball BT internet was… Not that Herr Fries is bothered. Don’t I pick them!

Did the health checks, and the internet was back on. But to for long, ten minutes maybe…

Pee’d off with this already! The Iceland delivery arrived. They had substitutes plain sausages again for the unavailable microwave ones! That’s the fourth time this year, I’ve sent them back each time, but they keep subbing them.

The strawberries and tomatoes were from Morocco. The strawberries had some slime on a few, which I threw away. The mini-cherry tomatoes were substituted for vine ones and tested for taste… Bloody Hell! I’ve tasted a tomato so foul and bitter in my life! Eurgh! They hadn’t any brown cobs in stock either! All in all, a bad do! I put the crap away.

Tried the computer again. It had come back on at last. For around a half-hour, then…

Well, obviously not that much… Git!

My morning Carer called and sorted me out. It was her first call. She came in without ringing the door chime and gave me a nervous tick! Even if she shouts out when she walks in, I can’t hear her with my hearing. Still, I wasn’t using the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) when she came in. Hehehe!

Aha! The internet came back on… Thank you, Mr Fries. Got the post finished and sent off. Facebooking, and it happened again:

Liberty-Global has disassociated itself with Virgin Media; they do not mention that they own and fail to run it, hoping that Richard Branson will get the blame, I think?

One more effort once it came back on. Most anger-making and revenge prompting! But this time, I had to close everything down and off and reboot the box and computer.

I’ll have to give up on this; Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet has gone off again! My language is crude at the moment. I am willing and wishing that Fries drops dead immediately. It won’t matter to me cause he can’t run the service anyway. He’s a number-cruncher, accountant, actuary, bean-counter, bookkeeper, calculator, con-man. His use of smoke and mirrors, off-shore account movements etc., are his strengths. A wanker of a banker! Indeed, he has no people-care or customer sensitivity.

I’ve lost all my heart in blogging now. I’ll get something to eat, give up until morning, and then try again to use LIBERTY-GLOBAL Virgin Media Internet. But I’m not confident… well, I am in a way – I feel sure that Fries will let things get worse… there’ll be a financial fiddle of some sort involved in the situation, I’m sure. But he is obviously trying to destroy a company, his company, that paid around $2.4 billion to buy out… why? Back-handers? Mafia? Money Shuffling & Juggling? Banking fiddle? You scratch mine – I’ll scratch yours?

Bribery and manipulation? Or just money-making savviness via greedy, devious, underhand means? Just a thought! Why is he shoving all the much-travelled money of Liberty-Global into telecom and internet companies the world over? When he obviously is incapable of providing a reliable service? A money-predatory and manipulative Con-Man supreme!

Today’s end car park inspection photograph.

Carer Valerie arrived. Just after I’d realised that I had no hot water from the taps (faucets). She was kind enough to find and write ht telephone number of the Nottingham City Homes Repairs in large letters so I could read it. I was a little nervous to ring yet if I had made a cock-up leaving a tap running or something. (The hot water was back on in the morning, Phew!) Off went Valerie taking the bags o the waste for me on her way. Thank you!

Herbert was giving it some hammer tonight; I wonder what he’s making this time. I found a picture that I’d taken last week, possibly from Thursday when I visited the foot lady at the hair salon appointment farce.

Washed and changed into the night attire, and I made up a bottle of spring water and lime juice. I did a couple for Carer Richard, who may come on Monday, and stored them in the fridge, so they will be nice and cold for him.

Hot much of a sunset again tonight, but still beautiful to me, even with the muted hue and colours.

I used the Canon camera. As for some reason, the Fuji developed a thick white line down the centre of the screen, and I could not remove it? Turned it off and then back on, but no luck; still there?

As I got down on the recliner to watch some TV, I took this snap of my legs. Not a pretty sight!

The fattiness in both legs was returning, or it might be water-retention, but I think not. I wish I knew why I felt that, but I cannot remember why now, Tsk! (Sunday morning)

Cartilage Cathy on the right and Arthur Itis on the left knee, can you see? The veins are shallower tonight, and the hairs have suddenly turned grey? The funny side of this shot was the feet not showing. Hahaha!

An Ode to an ‘Orrible Day

My signing with Virgin Media was happenstantial,
The computer… to be precise, Liberty-Global,
Ran by Mike Fries, money-mad and ignoble!
Who bought out Virgin Media, most controversial,
Liberty-Global is crap; blame is cunningly deflectable…
They keep shtum about owning Virgin Media – detestable!
So Richard Branson gets the blame, a sort of Guilt-Burial!
My hatred for Mike Fries is substantial…
Well, his hatred of customers is evidential…
His lousy internet seems to him inconsequential,
He still gets paid a fortune, and management are reverential?
The sickening signs of fiddling figures are torrential!
Although my evidence is only circumstantial…
And comes from a customer who is uninfluential,
Liberty-Global’s ever failing service makes me demential!

Morning all!

Inchcock Today: Tue/Wed 16/17th February

Wednesday 16th February 2022

The body woke, and immediately appreciated that I can only remember waking up four times! Much better sleep!

The brain failed to fully engage! For I somehow found myself in the spare room sorting out the bag for Independent Living Coordinator, Warden, and desk-top dancer, Obersturmbannfuhreress Deana. Wondering why I’d done this before having a wee-wee or even putting the kettle on to make a brew of tea confused me. (Doreen?)

I had a wee-wee and checked on Little Inches fungal lesion (itching a bit). But it was not bleeding, I just cleaned things up and applied some teeth-grindingly painful ointment to the affected area. Argh!

Thought I was going to make a brew of tea… found myself topping up the Treats-Shelf instead? It was obvious to me, plainly, that Vascular Dementia Doreen was going to be in charge of things today! I could do nothing about choices until things calmed down from her. Which, thank heavens, they did shortly after I’d made a brew of JS Red Label Extra Strong tea. But Doreen’s attentions were mentally crippling at times today. So annoyingly so, as well.

Went to make a brew and took this photo of the dark, dank morning view.

The SYS was not too bad. Pulse at 90, up a bit.

Humph! I did drop the darned BP machine as I was putting it away! Tried it out again, nervous of it being buggered, but it worked okay. Used the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. The surface temperature read as 34.5°c. A bit higher this time. Good!

I got settled on the computer for a slow, challenging, frustrating session on the Local Snippets blog. Not much went right the first time, and much correctionalisationing was needed. But then again, this is the usual scenario nowadays.

05:45hrs: As I got up to go for a wee-wee, right-loud clunking noises came from the flat above! I think Herbert must have had an Accifauxpa of his own. Didn’t bother me, mind; I was up anyway. I don’t think it was loud enough to be heard by anyone else who might have been trying to sleep. Not that the sanctified, consecrated, uncommunicative, ascetic, aloof, sniffy Herbert would be bothered.

Around 06:00hrs, I spotted the moon through the balcony doors, peeping through the thick clouds. So I searched and found the Canon camera, which I’d left on top of the microwave, and spent some time taking many snaps of the moon. Determined to try and get some decent ones this time.

I think I took about ten photographs of the planet in total, but these four were the only ones that came out fairy acceptablyish. At least, I hope so.

Back to the computer and blogging. However, things WordPress-wise came to an end for a while; why?

Fries salary has since been increased to $23 million!

The landline flashed and rang. It was from Natalie of the Health 7 Social Care team, called Meridian. To explain to me that they (Meridian) had had another no show, and my Carer should arrive by 09:00hrs. Nay fuss! Fair enough, at least they let me know.

When $23m salaried Liberty-Global, number-crunching, mist and mirrors boss Mike Fries, Virgin Media got the connection back, I pressed on making errors after mistakes on the blog. After a couple of hours, the card reader failed to identify the SD card reader… Grumph!

Eventually, my trial and error, or the computer did it on its own, the reader was loaded. I stopped doing the blog, and I caught up with other things. Email reading and replying. WordPress reader, then comments. Then on Facebooking.

Carer Elena arrived and looked after me in a caring and attentive way. (I loved that! Hehehe!) She had been called out to cover for the absentee. Elena Took the waste bags to the shute on her way out for me.

I got the blog done and posted and began the Local Snippets one. However…

.

Gnash! Groggleturds! Gorblimey Crap!

To done-in mentally to do any more blogging now. I got the ablutions tackled. Aye… Worra good session it wor! One little cut shaving, a very minor toe-stubbing, and no falls, walking into anything either! Medicated, refreshed, into the new PPs, night attire donned, and off to get summat to eat.

Deana called on me, and we had a mini-chinwag.

The thud, thudding started from above, so at least I know Herbert hasn’t snuffed it. Shame!

My only success of the day… Cheesy baked potatoes and sausages. Sound like nothing special? But I altered the recipe I usually use to make these treats this time.

  • Take the grated cheese out of the fridge an hour before needed. Best do it after starting the oven going.
  • Clean whole potatoes in a not too hot oven (180°), Part of the secret here, cooked at this lower temperature, but for longer. Top and bottom of oven selected.
  • The cheese, preferably Red Leicester, or any strong cheddar into a large basin. Put the cheese in this, then sprinkle some anchovy or distilled vinegar into the dish.
  • Add a good-sized knob of best butter.
  • After at least an hour and a half (according to the size of the spuds), check to make sure the potatoes are really soft with a semi crispy husk. (If unsure, you can sprinkle water on the spuds as you put them in the oven to cook).
  • Remove the pots when nice and soft inside, and cut them each in half on your chopping board.
  • Remember, once the oven is empty, turn the temperature up to 220°.
  • At this stage, expect burnt fingers, and be prepared to make a mess…
  • Save the skins to one side.
  • Spoon out the flesh into the pre-prepared basin and cheese. (You may need to apply Germolene to your fingers afterwards).
  • Mix well with a fork to start with. Then changes to a spoon. When you are content that you’ve ironed out any lumpy bits…
  • Spray the inner of the half-husks with a bit of vinegar or oil of your choice.
  • Load up the husks with the bashed-up potato-cheese mixture, in fact, overfill them a smidgeon, and press down with a spoon.
  • Then run a fork over the top of spuds so that they will brown off crisply and easily.
  • Get them back into the oven, and expect them, if medium-sized, to take 20 minutes to half an hour. But keep checking cause different varieties take different times to cook and brown off.
  • Traditionally, you can now treat any burns gather the many clumps and splashes of potatoes bits and cheese from the floor, cupboards and your clothing.
  • Once you are happy with the colouring to your taste of burntness of the half-potatoes, all you have to do is remove them and resist eating any before they get onto the plate!
Wunderbar!

Serving Suggestion wot I dun last week

I got settled in the recliner, and blissfully I fell asleep. Ah, nice!

“♫ Oh, Susana… ♫ rang out, and Carer Valerie came in. Couldn’t really have a natter as such cause she was on her mobile most of the time. But she granted me some time eventually. Hehe! Thanked her with some treats, and off she trundled. ♥

No messy tonight. I got the head down after Valerie had departed and remembered to take the Hemp capsule. It was lovely drifting off. I only woke up about for times, marvellous!

=  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =

Thursday 17th February 2022

Only a few wakings up during the night. I’m well pleased with that, but, on the fifth…

I more or less sort of bolted into wakefulness. Full of misapprehension, a muddled state of mind, and in desperate need of a wee-wee! Don’t know why I mentioned it now. Although it’s been this way for over a week now…

I worked out who and where I was as I tumbled out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, and had wobbled like Charlie Chaplin to the wet room. I’m not sure why I did not use the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket); it would have been so much quicker?

Despite Bladder-Barry insisting that I needed a wee-wee so badly, things did not flow very easily. I waited patiently and could almost feel the flow coming from the innards… girded my loins as felt it invade Little Inchy… and a pathetic trickle evacuated, that was so painful! Aha, another infection! I wondered if I had any of the tablets left from the last one… but lost my train of thought when an instant need of the Porcelain Throne arrived; at the perfect moment while I stood above it… I thought.

Oh, dear, similar trouble as the wee-weeing? I got sat down, thinking things were going to erupt from the rear-end. I was still there ten minutes later, having a go at the crossword puzzle. Nothing much was moving much at all…

Then, an explosion of gas had burst free! Obviously, I didn’t see it, but I got the feeling that it had caused ripples on the water in the bowl. Instant relief of the pains! Within seconds a mammoth, rock-solid torpedo slowly, very slowly forced its way out, hitting the water before it was entirely out of the bum?

There was no discomfort with it at all? AS I stood up, the stool moved, and splash and clunk were heard… well, I think they did. No mess whatsoever. Mind you, there wouldn’t have room alongside that missile!

Got a good wash and beclothed my body. I went to make a brew of tea. I’m not sure what I did with the camera, but the photo I took of the morning view came out really vivid. I mean, it was around three o’clock in the morning; how did the Canon camera create light when it wasn’t there? Then I remembered dropping the camera last time I used it… argh… I wonder if it’s damaged? I’ll take shots of the Health Checks in a bit, see if the camera is okay this time. Or, did I change some setting when I retrieved the thing from the floor? I’m talking to myself again!

I went to get a duster to clean the computer screen and saw that the moon was appearing through the smallest hole in the dark clouds.

So I skedaddled and got the Canon camera post-haste and back to the kitchenette.

I had to photograph them quickly, cause I could see the clouds enveloping them all the time I was focussing.

One of the pictures came out in a different size to the others? I now have to assume that I broke something in the Canon when I dropped it on my foot yesterday?

Or is it me?

My progress on blogging has never been harder work than it is today. I am so frustrated.

I suppose with getting up early and the kerfuffle with the wee and Throne, added to the semi-confused state of my mind… this must have affected me in some way? Or am I just waffling again?

The care arrived after 07:0ohrs. The new gal, who is so confident. Kiya, I think, or maybe not. She spent a while chatting with me, trying to settle me, I guess. She also recognised I was not like my usual self. Damned good that, after just three visits. ♥

I spent a lot of time doing the header and top graphic. Got them done in CorelDraw and put them onto this blog… Then, realised I’d put the wrong dates on both of them… Gragnangles! It cost me another hour or more to get them amended and reposted!

Aha, I’ve not done the Health Checks yet! So I did them. Started with blood pressure taking. The figures looked okay to me.

Then on the temperature taking. Which was getting higher at last. Apparently, 35°c is my minimum target, they tell me. It’s the closest it’s been for a long time now. Jolly good show, eh?

I found on the SD card a photo I took earlier from the kitchenette window. Forgetting things and getting confused is the mark of the devil; Vascular Dementia Doreen!

Did I mention she’s moved in?.

I just had a visit from Dizzy Dennis. One of the instant jobs. I’m going to get off of blogging now, and get a sit-down, and try to do nowt for a while, Thought Storms permitting.

I made a meal of sorts, potatoes, a small microwave BBQ burger, and a lemon cheesecake. Nowt fancy, but I needed rest and sleep so much by then. Still, I did enjoy it, such as it was. Taste-Rating: 7.5/10.

Washed the fodder things and got down in the £300, c1968 recliner. Mind confused and so tired, and within minutes I was off visiting Sweet Morpheus… and dreaming with it.

Half-an-hour later, ♫ Oh Susana ♫ rang out as the Carer entered the flat. Carer Fria Freestone, at least I think it was. Fria soon got the medications sorted in a matter of fact way; she chose her treat; drink (Tequila) and nibble (Easter egg), and was soon off, bless her.

I checked the flat for anything not safe. Taps etc., and got back down in the recliner. At first, I struggled to get back to sleep, but thoughts of Jillie arose, and I was soon off once more into the land of Nod! Hoping to stay that way for once… I’ll see!

Inchcock Today: Diary and Local News Snippets

I woke up with a smidgeon of contentment lurking…
But it wasn’t to last long after the awakening,
I recalled a dream about my baking, breadmaking…
I kept getting it wrong and getting a rollicking…
From a woman who was nasty but breathtaking…
Somehow from the bread mix, I made crackling?
She gave me a kick in the goolies and a smacking!
Yet I seemed to enjoy this… I must be barking…
Next minute I’m under a car looking at the breaking…
Moved on to be with Bill Ziegler, explaining fracking…
Back to the kitchen, the woman sneered and headshaking…
Frying eggs now, the woman constantly nitpicking…
Then I woke up… a daft dream, but thought-provoking!
Well, not really, I was only joking!

————————————————————–

05:25hrs: Tuesday 8th February 2022

I stirred into semi-pretend life to find scribble on the notepad of a dream. The pad lay between my knees; the quilt had been thrown over the Carers chair… Amazingly, there were no signs of nocturnal nibbling.

So, without trying to catch my balance, I dismounted the second-hand, £300, charity shop-bought, gungy beige coloured, rickety, c1968 recliner and staggered ASAP to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). As this was being digested into my slowly catching the body up in wakefulness brain, possibly the most urgent for months, a desperate wee-wee was needed, and Bladder Boris was in no mood to be stemmed or delayed! He let me know this, with the usual stabbing pains…

Doing this, Trotsky Terence started to demand an evacuation, and I had to get to the wet room and Porcelain Throne immediately… for he was beginning the movement of his own accord! I feared accidental frontal and rear leakages as I hastened into the wet room…

I hit Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley against the doorframe on the way in, but this did not stop my pursuit to the Throne. I got the pants down and on the seat with a thud. The action started immediately I was down… well, the rear-end a little before I’d got down. Being Trotsky Terence controlled, you can imagine the extra-mess things made that needed cleaning.

I sat there, Shirley twitching away like a good un, and feeling lucky to get there almost in time, and sorry for myself and ashamed that I didn’t… if you understand what I mean? It was another messy job cleaning me, and the wet room furniture, at least Harolds Haemorrhoids and Little Inchies fungal lesion were not bleeding, so after a bit of thought on my situation. Due to the early release from the read end, and the liquid nature of the evacuation from the rear, some of the product had sprayed onto the porcelain and floor So, I almost cheerfully got the disinfectant and mopped the floor.

I deemed that it could have been a lot worse. And actually cheered up an iota!

By the time I’d cleaned up, washed and dressed, I’m sure I was singing to myself, in fact!

I got the Health Checks done. But this time, things had gone back to their usual worrying levels, Tsk! I suppose the kerfuffle with the evacuations didn’t help matters, so I didn’t worry overly about these figures. Hopefully, they will be back down in the morning again.

The Sys was up a lot (43) at 171, Dia up to (62) 80, and the Pulse up to (69) 76. The body temperature showed 34.8°c, about the same as yesterdays reading was. Oh, it’s a little low, says Google. I think.

Carer Richard arrived shortly afterwards, and he was in a bit of a rush, running late. We still managed a mini-natter. During which the Ocado order arrived. The driver was given a thank you can of pop. He left the bags through the door for me, and I set about getting them into the kitchenette.

Richard sorted the medications, treated him, and after another mini-chinwagging session, he had to go. A good lad.

I started to sort out the incoming fodder. Two Pukka pies I could not remember ordering in there? One was a cheese, leek & potato one? I’m sure I’d have known if I ordered that? It might be a substitute?

Still, it sounds alright to me.

Three cans of curried beans, on offer they were. The tub of C&A lemon mousse was 65p for a tiddly tub! So, I only to one of them. All part of my economy-drive. Hehe!

A mixed bag of stuff on the wheeled trolley server. Orange jelly, bleach and Dettol lavender scented. A quick wee-wee had to be taken! Washed and back to the kitchen sorting.

Another mystery, they had sent two bunches of five bananas? Last week they sent a bunch of ten when I ordered (I think) five? That reminds me, I’ve got some Amazon stuff coming today.

I got the items away in the refrigerator. The two pies, one beef and the cheese as mentioned above, leek & potato Pukka pies, are used by dates on them for four days.

The milk I’d ordered was one massive Welsh organic 3-litre whole milk bottle! I can’t imagine even me ordering a dollop of milk this size. Substitute? Still, I’m chuffed that it is Welsh, as with the Glengettie teabags. There is a streak of Welsh in my family line… someone once told me that, anyway. Dad, I think it was?

Despite the rob-dogging pricing, the Natoora black tomatoes, the large and small ones ordered, were delivered and worth the extra methinks. They are deep and bright red inside. Taste wonderful!

The smaller ones looked like they were made of wood with their colouring. Not had these before, they might taste different, but I’ll give them a go. Not Welsh, these, the large ones are Spanish, which doesn’t bode well, the last ones were Italian, and the small ones are this time. I’ve never taken to tasteless Spanish tomatoes.

Did the blog for a few hours and then made a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea using the new milk. All was fine. Had a mini-packet of Crawfords Mini-Cheddar biscuits, BBQ flavour. Nice enough for me.

Panic suddenly erupted! Cleaner Esther rang the bell and entered my three-roomed domain. Gawd, she can talk! Well, more like barked orders and demands. She likes to be in charge and is, actually. Haha! It’s just that she never stops talking as she moves from room to room. Then on her next visit, she’ll snap, “I told you!” when you say you can’t remember. It’s most likely that I heard just a mumbling sound from a distance; if I try to find what room she’s in to tell her this, she’s moved onto a new set of orders and demands for me… Hehehe! Despite all this, she’s a good-hearted soul, though. Scary, mind!

Pressing on with the blog, I stopped to check Amazon Tracker for the three things being delivered. The Scratchings, Pot Noodles, and Air Spray said earlier; Due at 13:00hrs. Then it was 17:00hrs, now it is 22:00hrs! The Dettol is due 11th to 15th February.

When the intercom rang. A delivery, now that’s service, I thought. The man came up to the flat, which was nice; Amazon usually leaves stuff down on the table in reception.

Great balls of fire! It was the Dettol being delivered?

Thanked the man (GPO, not Amazon) and went to look at the AMazon tracker site once again, thinking I’d got it wrong.

But no, there it was, ‘Arriving 11th-12th February! That really was good service then! I got the bottles stored away, had a wee-wee, and returned to check on the other goods expected. Still, 22:00hrs! Tsk!

.

Local News Snippets

Man ‘A’ complained to man ‘B’ about his car being stolen. Mine too replied man ‘B’. They both agreed that there is no deterrent nowadays, bringing back the birch, things of that nature. It turned out it was the son of man ‘B’ who had stolen it.

They may be working retired or in their adolescence,
But will do it again if released and get the chance…
Murderers, I mean belligerence, hatred, but no benevolence…
Lawyers in their defence, utter contabescence!

The violent animals live without respect for life…
Causing fear, being Mr Big… they want to cause strife…
They’ll attack anyone, a Policeman, child or a midwife…
Undoubtedly scum of the earth… Lowlife!

These figures look good,
And indeed they should,
Trust them… if only we could?
Too many lies the proletariat has withstood!

My gambling luck continues, abysmally…
Even on gambles that are supplied for free!
Never do I gamble confidently,
Has anyone never won at all on the Lottery?
Oh, yes, of course, there’s me!
May as well laugh about it, Hehehe!

The Hippocratic Oath,
Was wasted on this oaf!
He thought he was catch proof…
But he made a goof…
He’s obviously uncouth…
But still, sounds aloof?
But from under an HMP roof!

Somehow, I can find no sympathy for him?

————————————————————–

16:25hrs: Tuesday 8th February 2022

Got the Local News section above done, and made a meal. Feeling even more done-in, in now. Forgot to photograph the tray of fodder.

The Amazon man arrived, and Josie at the same time. Josie said one of the lifts were down, so he may be a while getting them up. This time the deliveryman brought all of the parcels up the door. I got them opened and stored away. The Amazon things after sorting, left a lot of cardboard needing to be rubbish sorted. So, I took them originally to go down to the recycling bin. But after waiting for a long time for the one working lift (elevator), I gave up and took them to the waste chute.

I kept banging parts of my anatomy in tiny the waste-chute room, as I tore the cardboard boxes to get them in the lid. I returned with a few bruises. Hahaha!

Too tired and mentally drained to do anymore computerisationing. Not that the food was special at all. Cornish pastie and some BBQ chips, no veg or desserts. I did manage to stay awake long enough to eat it, mind you.

Turned in the TV and fell asleep. But another fitful one, waking every few minutes it seemed. The evening Carer arrived, ringing the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chime, she came in. Another new gal to me, Carer ‘Ifra’. Another beautiful young thing. Confident in her duties, had a little natter with me… well, I had a natter with her. Hehe! Ifra took the waste bag with her on leaving, I had to force the treats on her, she chose a can of orange and an Easter egg. Lovely natured gal. Bade our farewells.

Washed the pots, and drifted off to sleep again, this time for three hours! Had a wee-wee, back in the recliner for a five-minute kip; woke again, another wee-wee, head down again… gave up and got up, but I was only half with it…

Inchcock: Local News Snippets in Ode

This week the News Snippets are reported, recorded and commented on, by The Nottingham Pensioner Lad, Inchcock (89).

Alto-Ego Inchy: I apologise for the Odeing included in the comments. But the lad has had minimal education. Now, with him contracting Vascular Dementia, as well as various other ailments; Hearing aids, mechanical ticker fitted, Glaucoma, Saccades, Cataracts, Stroke, Peripheral Neuropathy. His tendency to either waffle on, lose the plot or regularly forgets what he was doing, where he is, or where he was going; does not make for readable poetry. But there’s no stopping him. He only sulks when I point out these and other failings to him. Sorry.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Well, this looks good,
Be happy surely we should?
Read the next one and chew the cud!
Your interpretation will go down with a thud!

I’m aware of how they feel, every patient,
I’m waiting on may a medical appointment,
Dentist, Chiropodist, Doctors yearly check…
That’s been a wait of three years, by, heck!
Audio, DVT and Cardiac…
Then the operation on the cataracts,
Glaucoma and Saccades and the Diabetes in fact…
Will I live long enough to get my treatments?

Sozzled, drugged up, and a man with a violent bent,
But will there be a return to prison requirement?
Easier for him to get drugs in there for his sustainment?
Maybe they’ll offer him some mental treatment?
Tell him sorry if this is inconvenient…
Give him some cocaine and pay his rent?

Run of the mill stuff, for the Nottingham creed,
I understand that he was a gynaecologist,
Nothing suspicious, the chap wasn’t a druggist…
Police won’t look too far into this…
With nine officers attacked and on the sick list!

The Police and I…
Have no idea why,
So sorry the lad had to die…
RIP son… It makes you cry!

No matter why – Animals!

All this violence, drugs, gangs, I comprehend?
Slave importers, youths will re-offend…
No deterrent do the courts send…
Viciousness threatens, it’s today trend…
And I think it will only worsen!
A judge was I thought the only person…
Who could, these crimes amend…
But no, so I’m scared and disheartened!.

Self-Centred Scum!

Well, this is interesting news for Sherwood…
A 48% increase in crime figures, should…
make my blood boil, make me angry and rude!
I’m not surprised, I’ve not seen a policeman since May!
Didn’t even see one on Tuesday…
Plenty of yobboes lurking…
Don’t suppose they are working?
I just pray they don’t mug me today!.


Raliegh, John Players, Debenhams, Topshop, Oasis, WH Smith, Burton & Dorothy Perkins, River Island, Banks closing down, Virgin Media sold to Liberty Global and has been ruined by them, Macintoshes, Rowntrees, Frys, Cadburys all sold to Nestles…

But fret not, we have 14 new takeaway shops opened… even though 12 went bankrupt in the last year?

Well, looking at my arm that’s encouraging.

So, basically, she’s got 25 days, what an hour a session? Going to some Community Centre; probably gets a free meal, and she can do some drug trading at the same time. I assume that courts will be providing her with a taxi both ways?

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets in Ode

Inchcock Today: Cock-Ups, Confusion and Comedy!

The retrieved photographs

Sunset shots, no idea when from, sometime in the last three days I’ve been without the capability to upload.

Tuesday, mayhaps.

Yesterday morning (Maybe?) Colin Cramps was paining me,
All night long, eight hours, no sleep, scarily,
But still, in wealth, health, finances and pecuniarily…
I have no worries… I am totally hassle-free…
I’m lying here, to a certain degree…
I can’t walk properly…
It’s harder than ever to see…
Arthur Itis murdering the knee…
Constantly I need a painful wee-wee,
Lost the remote control for the TV!
Using the Porcelain Throne leaves things increasingly phooey!
And to varying degrees, it’s always bloody!
So many medications, I’m becoming a druggie,
Of pains, aches, worries, fears… I’m never free!
Diabetes stops me from eating chocolate and toffee…
Always some other medical examinee…
Vascular dementia has taken my minds synchronicity,
More operations are due, but that’s just a technicality,
I’m coping well, really, but with a vulnerability…
Too occasional depressions and pathetic self-pity,
Yet, I’ve a gift of physical, not mental, survivability,
Sometimes, I have an outlook of determination and doability…
Often prevented from actioning by my docility…
Yet, I press on, causing more damage, such is my senility…
Why did the Lord give me life, but not the ability?
Fair enough, he gave me more than a fair share of verbosity,
And great bonus, in a massive bouncebackability,
But far too much instability and aperiodicity?
Not to mention my fretting, worrying and trepidity,
Oh, I said them – that’ll be the memories absentia!
Psychasthenia, I’ve avoided, I’m glad to say it’s not obligatory,
Thank Gawd, for my beloved Lisa, Jenny and Jillie 🧡

Made up some Polish pork sarnies, so good they tasted!
Planned it for them to be ready,
To eat it watching the telly…
Heartbeat was on… but I soon capitulated!

I’ll turn on the telly a fine-looking nosh, and I waited…
Again, my plans had been incapacitated…
The TV remote had absquatulated!
Spend so much time searching, going wud!
The meal went stone-cold; it could not be ameliorated!
No TV, eyesight too bad to read; aggravated!
Hearing no good to listen to the radio…
The remote control was not appropriated!
After a lengthy search, of finding it, there was no likelihood,
I was self-annoyed; I could have spat blood!
At least the sandwiches tasted really good!
A Dark Depression accumulated…
As the next Whoopsiedangleplop, I awaited…

GCo01a

The following day I woke, and photo’d the feet,
The limbs looked okay, felt alreet,
Colin Cramps was easier last night, his pains petite,
Then, as I moved, the action was only slight…
Arthur Itis attacked – in the right knee, with all his might!
Hearing myself whimper made me uptight,
I struggled to move and was not very sprite…
Then, went to Phorpain it… What a sight!

My disjointed but prettily coloured patella.

The sort of knee one may find on a troglodyte?
No sunshine for them either, very little light,
But I was more concerned with the failing eyesight,
I make myself a sarnie, using Vegemite…
Just two little slices, more weight I will not incite,

It was cold, misty and windy tonight,
Got the camera, the end car park to highlight…
Will the computer let me import? Well, it might…
Good heavens, it did! Much to my delight!

The red van on the no-parking zone is like a benchmark,
It’s never been known to park up properly, I remark…
The van reminds me vaguely of the Bismarck?

Sod it! The knee cap’s come out, off to the hospital!

What next? Humph!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Food Glorious Food!

♫ Food Glorious Food… ♫

But no hot chocolate or custard!

I beginneth the Ode, with the tale from Tuesday,
With food being delivered from Iceland, I say,
Sainsbury’s, I wanted to use, as I would, ordinarily,
Could I get access to their site? No flipping way!
Hence, my disappointment today, Wednesday…
Sorting the food delivered left me in dismay!

I opened the first bags onto the server trolley tray,
Bananas looked nice and green, should last many a day,
But the potatoes had growths on them and use by this Thursday!
No faults with the orange juice, pasties Cornish and Cheesy,
The lamb shanks I’d not had for a long time (budgetary),
I’ll have a lamb shanks in gravy tonight, to myself I did say…,

The next load I put out on display…
The dates left this septuagenarian giddy!
No dates on either pack of tomatoes, hey!
Both lots were soft and beginning to decay!
Two loaves of bread, both expired today!
Sugar snap peas, they were safe until Friday!
The mushrooms one day left, Wednesday, today!
The other stuff’s dates seemed to be okay!

The last few bits seemed better by to review,
But the brown cob packs should have been two!
But they only sent one, which was dearer – Boo!
Fairy liquid was on offer, just £1… that’ll do!
Oh, and the sweet chilly Thai sauce was £1 too!

Then the old warped memory came into play…
I didn’t want or need the chilli sauce anyway!
Memory-Lapse – another waste of effort, and monetarily,
For I’d got a massive jar last week,
Pissed off with myself, so’s to speak.

My Biggest Gastronomic Disappointment Ever!

Sob, Blubber!

I got around to cooking the lamb shanks at last

I got around to cooking the lamb shanks at last,
Such a long time since I’ve had such a repast…
I could hear my taste buds as they clacked…
Remembering the glorious taste, from the past…
Assured the delightful flavour would be a blast!

My hopes were high; I intended to eat it all…
But my cheeriness had a great fall…
It was horrible! I didn’t like it at all!
Sweet and sickly, for lamb, not natural,
Disappointing and incredible!
The sweetness made it inedible,

Why did I trust Iceland? Incomprehensible!
For Iceland, it’s only typical…
Nowt to fret over, nothing unusual…
I’d buy them out and sack them all…
If I had the wherewithal…

Depressed! I pottered about in the cupboards

Stuff in the end cupboard, to be eaten…
Most unwanted substitutes from the heathen…
Wicked Iceland and Morrison’s: They are Rotten!
Unwanted crap I don’t like sent, all too often!

No shortages of seasonings, though…
Parsley, Chilli, BBQ, Pickles and Oxo,
Lea & Perrin sauce, Balsamic, Marmite,
The innards are rumbling… problems gastro?

Oh, dearie me!
To the Porcelain Throne, I had to go,
Shit! I’ve just stubbed me hammertoe!
I’m just not a lucky bunny, you know!
What was I odeing about a while ago?

The cupboards… vinegar, soups, beans, red, gungo,
Mulligatawny, black and white pepper, Go-Glow…
Go-Glow? Why is that in there? A mystery, though?
With flavourings galore! Core, my toe’s getting sore…
No meat hereabouts… A lamb shank for sure…
A packet of out-of-date marshmallows…

Ah, I’ve got the bean and cheese pasty in the fridge!
I checked the sell-by-date and found a dead midge?
I’m struggling here, just a smidge…
With this Odeing verbiage…
Hell, summat else out of date, a box of porridge!

The Door Chime, Chimed!

It was the Amazon delivery;

On the orders of cleaner Esther, I’d ordered an ironing board…
But another Whoopsiedangleplop had matured!
These and Accifauxpas for me, are assured,
There’s no way stopping them from coming; it can’t be cured!
Their perpetuity can be assured…
I think that can be said officially; rest assured…
Another cock-up, mistake or Accifauxpas will be sculptured!
They just can’t leave me alone; it’s such a bind!.

Thoughts At The Time

Is the ironing board a self-assembly one, then?
The box wasn’t heavy, it’s too tiny, indeed… Freakier!
Got inside and found they had sent; no snigger!
An ironing board cover? Another Inchy blunder?

Now I can see where and how and feel in despair!
Is that not a picture of an ironing board above there?
My lousy eyesight causing problems there…
I’m fed up and don’t think life is fair!

Inchcock’s Making The Best Of Things Series – In Ode

Part-Ode To Getting Hospitalisationed

I woketh up with a sore throat and extra-tight chest,
Not exactly poorly, but not feeling at my best,
The Porcelain Throne found another abscess!
Work the ailments off; that would be best…
So I hand-washed the jumper and brown vest!.

When the shirt was finished being washed,
I saw the pots from last nights lone symposiast…
On the draining board, messy, unwashed!
Dropped the plate onto my toe it crashed…
So, I made a start on the blog, unabashed!.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Change of Plan!

Upon seeing the twinkling lights at their prettiest…
I got out the Canon camera for a photo fest…

I tried to take some close-ups, appreciate them to the fullest,
Two came out looking the nicest…

Good work from the local Christmas lightists!
Ah, spotted some more; this one made me feel chuffed!.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Carer Richard Arrives!

Onto the computer with the freshly brewed tea,
I didn’t pour it on it, just took it with me… Hehe!
An hour or so later, the door chime rang out to tell me…
Carer Richard had come to look after me, medically!

It seems that I must have looked worse than I felt this morning. For the lad was deeply concerned at my pastier than ever, face and violently shaking limbs! Which was appreciated. I explained about the sore throat and tight chest and had a job to stop him from calling for the paramedics at first.

When he gave me the medications, he saw the tablets coming back up fin the throat and out of the mouth onto the floor. (The missing teeth make it hard to stop them when this happens. Haha!) I still didn’t feel poorly, just out of sorts, but Richard phoned someone (111?) for advice. They, whoever it was, suggested he call for the paramedics. I explained further about my not feeling really bad, the food delivery that was due, and a call from Gill was expected, so I was not keen on missing them. When the medicine came back up, he called the ambulance for me. Bless him!

The food delivery arrived while we were waiting. Richard put the stuff away for me, and paramedics arrived. To chaps gave me a good going over. And ECG, temperature, and Blood Pressure. They recommended I go with them straight away to the Queens Medical Centre. I was still a midge reluctant, but Richard and the ambulancemen all thought it necessary, so I gave in.

My not being used to having three people talking simultaneously, a fair fluttering of flusterationing made me a little confused about what was going on.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Prepping for the Journey!

The Walker would be needed, the medic was not too keen on it,
I relayed how much easier it is than relying on a walking stick,
One of the men conceded but was worried it going missing…
“You’ll be moved about on a trolley for hours. I’m not kidding!”
“So many get stolen, or at least go missing!”
“It’s pandemonium in there… don’t mean to be discouraging!”
“But we can take it with us, and, to save you worrying,”
I’ll put an ID badge on the walker-guide thing!”

He did Too! How kind was that! Great! Thanks, Mate!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Arrival At The Queens Hospital

Paramedic chaps got me and the trolley to the A&E Emergency,
Waited in a corridor, on an uncomfortable wonky trolley,
I was pleased when the others moved swiftly…
But they slowed down somewhat, busy place, much activity…
All cubicles full got the first examination embarrassingly…
As they checked me for Covid, outside a lavatory!
Then they checked my rear end… deep in the cavity!
In the corridor, I exposed my protection pants and more…
Whatever they were using left me sore…
I’ve no idea what they were looking for!
My embarrassment, beyond repairability,
The depths of depravity!

© 09:30hrs: Moved Into Main Room – Then a bare Corridor

They had a queuing system that would baffle you at best…
Each time I was moved a few feet, it was never less…
The walker-guide, but, they were busy I guess,
I had to ask for the trolley each time; I think I was an optimist?
I reckon I wee them off; they did look pissed!
Then, out into a corridor again, all bare, not the prettiest!

Corridor Back Into the Main room

Aha, I nodded off; they woke me to give me attention. Over the next four hours, I had two ECGs, blood tests, Warfarin blood test, and Blood pressure was taken, and I fell asleep again. They woke me moving the hospital trolley again, and I turned to look for the walker-guide, and someone was rifling through it at the far end of the room, and it was a big, cram-packed with people, room! Other trolleys were moved, and I lost sight of my special trolley…

It took me over half an hour to find someone who would talk to me, but I found out she was coming to me anyway. She humphed, sneered, and went of to retrieve the Walker for me. She was back in a minute and crammed it betwixt my arm and the divider wall. She was not a happy gal at all!

To my amazement, she got out the ECG and BP stuff again?
I bravely asked her, “Are the other readings not right then?”
She calmly replied: “Nae, we lost them…”?
Adding, rather wittily, “Yer can’t expect fings to be Utopian!”
And she never spoke to me again!

The Noisy Moaning Git!

By now, ten hours or so, I’d been in here, innit?
But I was not feeling in the slightest antagonistic,
In the trolley in front, a chap getting verbally vitriolic…
His tackle on view, he was getting verbally athletic!

I could No Longer Stay Silent!

Mouthing it, scratching his balls, wearing no underwear!
“I’ve been here half an hour – nobody’s seen me, taint fair!
I said: “It’s a hospital, not the Mayfair”,
He swore back at me; I said in answer…
I’ve been here for ten hours clear…
So, give them a rest, or I’ll give you a vestibulocochlear!
Amazingly he quietened down, and folks gave a cheer!

That word stayed with me for some reason, not sure what it means. Something to do with Peripheral Neuropathy, I think. No one was more surprised than I was when he quietened down. I was expecting him to get up and attack me. Mind you, I was ready and prepared.

He made me so angry. Even two medical staff thanked me! Hahaha! I got a cup of tea and some biscuits.

Lady Doctor From Cardiac DVT Clinic Visited me!

Basically, she reported that the Warfarin INR level is satisfactory, and the mechanical aorta-valve is doing its job! I thanked her!

A nurse arrived to do yet another ECG & Blood Test

I dare not make any comments, although she was a lot friendlier with me this time?

My trolley was moved around for the next two hours

An A&E doctor came to me and said You’ll be allowed to go home shortly, and they have arranged a lift for me. Great!

Seven trolley-moves and an hour later…

A young lady came to collect me and the two trolleys in a white coat and took me into another department to await the lift being arranged for me. Given another cardboard cup of tea and more biscuits. At least now, being out of that haemorrhoid-testing big trolley and in a chair, I can drink and dunk with less hassle from Neuropathy Pete’s shakes.

As I fell in love again, I inquired of the white-coated buxom young lady; I have not been for a wee for 19 hours. Is there was a WC I can use, please. Only if you need a wee, no closets are available here, as you are not allowed back in the treatment room again. Oh? I confirmed that I only needed a pee, and she gave me a cardboard urine pot and told me where to go to use it. So, I did!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Taxi Home

An old ambulance took me home, not a taxi,
A man and daughter team, jolly nice folkski,
We had a good natter en route, socially,
The chap came up to the flat with me…
Offered him a nimble or plonk, to thank him dearly,
Beer & Tequila, his choice, Cheers he said appreciatory,
Using the loo, he departed; I think his name was Hughie.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I had to get the itching ECG pads off

Coor, that’s betterer!

Food, the next task!

Very Tasty! Baked bean and cheese pastie, a BBQ beef burger and a pot of lemon mousse with spray cream, lots of it! Gorgeous!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Medicated A Few Areas

No more notes on the writing pad

I must have fallen asleep?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Part of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme

Evenin’ all! ♥

December 2021: Local News – With Inchie comments

Local News

With Inchies comments in Ode.
Crap Ode, fair enough!

Here we go…

Inchy: I wrote upon this news, a comment what I thought,
Needed saying, about my views on this report,
About dangerous bike riders and Escooterists,
If I was young enough, I’d give them some fist!
Not that I’m a spoilsport…
Pavements are not there for their sport…
They should use the road, was my retort!
This will be perfect planning for those who snort,
Muggers, pickpockets shoplifters, should go to court!
But they rarely, some never get caught…
That’s the end of this verbal jaunt!

Not looking good, these figures, are they tommyrot?
I don’t know, but I do think not…
The anti-maskers, I disagree with this lot…
Being careful is best in the longshot…
Maybe each one of them is a barnpot?
They show aggression, wanting to form a protest riot?
Hah… I’ll just get me dinner made, chips and a carrot!

Well, the above new, will give normality a jerk though,,
Coronavirus has limited the number of people at work,
Working from home is back, I see,
Not that that is relative to me…
At last, from that pressure, I’m free…
I don’t miss it to any degree!

It’s the few who have to go to work, get my simpatico!
I know words can’t really help them; they seem shallow…
But in a few years, they will feel a warm glow…
Yes, retirement… it may be a shock, though?
There’ll be little rest; they should know…
So, I give advising a little go…

Things You May Find When Retired:
Of course, it depends if you’ve retired or been sacked…
Made redundant, nowadays that’s more of a fact,
70% of over 60’s get heart attacks…
80% will get cataracts,
Brittle limbs get broken or cracked,
If you did work, did you check your pension contract?
An area in which I sadly lacked…
The Government wants to know your finances; use tact…
People over 65 more often get hacked…
HM taxation will rarely use the word subtract…
It’ll help to see the Doctor, to get Prozacked…
Dementia, memory loss will ensure you get sidetracked…
HM Inspector of taxes checks, you are honest, in fact…
Oh, 90% of passengers were killed when getting highjacked…
Still, we’ll leave off that fact…

The truth is, you won’t be fit or rich enough to own a car,
Thus avoiding the floods, stay home using your camera…
Snap the poor devils, sell them photos later, from afar…
Then get ready for Arthur Itis, ulcers, and likely, oedema!

If they did ban them all, one day, to my amazement,
There’d be so many more unlicensed drivers prevalent!
Untaxed too, so what can we do?
What other form of punishment, a thumbscrew?
Too expensive to consider imprisonment,
The problem’s likely, beyond reconcilement!

I’ll tell yers while, Mr Magistrate,
He’s got you weighed up, straight!
Send him to prison, and you capitulate,
His laundry is done, free food, he can sleep in late,
No rent to pay, free medical care, to appreciate…
From the next peter, he’ll get his barbiturate…
Have time to read, watch telly, and cogitate,
To hand, will be a different way to cohabitate?
He can buy a knocked off phone to confabulate…
Oh, yes, he’s got it worked out, mate!.

A life sentence? Huh!, Rubbish!
No time for Odeing on this one…
Kenneth McDuff:
killed three teenagers, a life sentence, released after 11 years. Three days after his release, he killed again!
David Edward Maust:
While stationed in Germany, Maust killed a boy and was ultimately convicted of manslaughter. After being released, Maust stabbed a friend in his sleep, drowned a 15-year-old in a quarry, and slew three teens and attempted to bury them under his home.
Steven Pratt:
Two days after being released from prison for shooting and killing his next-door neighbour in 1984, Steven Pratt beat his mother to death during an argument.
Arthur J. Bomar Jr:
is a repeat offender who was in and out of the justice system multiple times. After being paroled from a Nevada prison in 1990, following a second-degree murder conviction, he may have been involved in three murders in Pennsylvania. Then, a few years later, he used a fake police badge to stop a female college athlete on the interstate and brutally murdered her. After he was finally caught in 1997, Bomar was charged with first-degree murder, kidnappings, aggravated assault, rape and abuse of corpses, and he was formally sentenced to death by legal injection. Hurrah! In the UK: Andrew Dawson, George Johnson, Ernest Wright, David Cook and Desmond Lee were all allowed out on licence despite getting life sentences; All killed again!