Wednesday 25th December 2019
Norwegian: Onsdag 25 Desember 2019
23:50hrs: I woke, pondered, tried and failed to get the mind functioning, passed-wind and realised (as is so frequent at my vivification times lately), the need for a wee-wee was my expergefactor. I roused the brain then the body, the body was the easier of the two to inspire into semi-life. Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald were all taking a break, which cheered me a bit. You wouldn’t believe the ease with which I got out of the second-hand, £300, c1968 recliner! The right peripheral neuralgia leg was giving signs of a possible upcoming involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance routine. The tiny twitches were the signs.
I got to the overnight well-used, but I can’t remember doing so bucket. Another half-hearted, but slightly painful evacuation, of the PWWDIB (Pathetic-Weak-Why-Did-I-Bother) mode.
While waiting for the dribble to terminate, I mused over the situation. If after five minutes of non-stop passing, I’d managed only a couple of fluid ounces; then how many times had I needed to get up and to have utilised the GPWWB overnight, to find it so full now? And, why do I not remember waking, getting up, wee-weeing, and getting my grossly-stomached body back in or onto the rickety recliner? Mind you, I did wonder why I found that I’d had left the walking stick on top of the clothes airer?
No tea-making this morning, I washed out and disinfected the bucket and returned it handily near the computer, and got the computer on to update the Tuesday blog. But my concentration was not good this morning at all. The neuropathy and autonomic nerves in the arm and hand were not playing up much, more the shoulder at the moment, but things can change. It’s the brain causing the aggro.
After about an hour of updating, the usual sudden and urgent need for the Porcelain Throne arrived! I was not going to risk any delay, after the other day, so, I grabbed the stick and moved towards the door. Two or three supported paces and Arthur Itis came to life with a vengeance! Everything changed, the pain was chronic and stiffness too. But I had to get to the Throne at all costs. I limped on to the wet room.
No messing, dressing gown thrown off, PP’s down and got seated. Apart from the oversized amount, things went well. Hardly any bleeding, and what there was looked like it was from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Minimum pain as well. It was as good a session as could be expected. But the system did not clear things when I flushed it. So, hand filling the water box, I got it ready to go again, and this time it cleared things. Phew!
I got some fresh PPs on and noticed the old ankle ulcer wound was looking a bit lively if that is the word. A lot more colour in the pins as well. I got the camera and took a snap of the legs. On closer inspection, the ulcer didn’t seem so bad after all. The damned scary to look at thrombophlebitis and the deep vein arterial thrombosis (phlebitis) was getting prominent again. I got the Phorpain gel and gave both knees a jolly-good massaging with it, I’ll take an extra Codeine 30g as well.
It’s funny how easily and quickly things it can change from day-to-day. The blood papules and Clopidogrel maculations don’t seem to bad. When it came to me putting this picture on many hours later, I thought I might have a new ulcer coming underneath the old one? This may shortly mean a visit to the Anticoagulation Haemostasis Deep Vein Arterial Thrombosis Clinic, a mouthful, but I love typing it for some obscure reason. Hahaha!
Then, as I was washed and about to leave the wetroom, and it’s even harder for me to believe, but I spotted the camera lens cover that I had searched in the wet room for, four times to find last night! This is also worrying. Let’s look back over the last week, at the cock-ups from Inchcock. No, I’d better not, I feel an inefficacious, inferior, inefficient, inept, insalubrious idiot in life, as it is. No need to make myself feel even worse than I already do.
I spent many hours on the computer, making many errors, mistakes and correctionalisationing so often, it drove me mad.
Then, I had a visit from both Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun, and that was the end of any rememberable events, as I settled for a sit-down and recuperative rest. Where I stayed for several hours, not being able to sleep due to the shakes of Shaun, and no chance of logical thought, thanks, Dennis!
I was just feeling ready for sleep as Shaun was easing off, and the landline flasher burst forth. I knew it had to be xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete, who else would know when to call at the optimum time to annoy me! I’m still convinced that when he damaged the recliner, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, that he fitted new clandestine CCTC cameras. He searched for my valuables, which he found and took. I got a bit of them back seven-months later, he had deposited some in his bank account for ‘Safe Keeping’, pawned some of the old bank-notes, and gave many of old coins to his favourite charity (?).
My part in the conversation was acataphasia-ridden, and with the brain not taking everything in, this is only a sketch of the conflab we had; Yesterday, the lad went to the hospital for his test results. NAL diagnosed (the final and longest section of the small intestine. It is attached to the colon). Ilieum Inftona (the third portion of the small intestine, between the jejunum and the caecum). It is slow-growing, and the doctors plan to do a yearly check on his colon. Which is not bad considering what it might have been. The thing that actually pleased the nihilist, was when they told him there were only 240,000 sufferers in the country. That’s done it! As if Pete needed proof of his individuality and Specialness! Hahaha! I was pleased for him, you’ll probably read in the Nottingham Post or hear on Radio Nottingham soon, Nottingham Man with a rare disease offers TV reporters a special-interview rate (£50 an hour) and tours around his home! (£55 plus VAT and £5 fro a cup of tea) Sorry, Pete, I couldn’t resist that!
My appetence for sleep was even stronger when I got back down in the recliner. My insomnia probably came from my nocturnality? Yet I did not actually feel too tired, just drained, depressed and a smidge of self-pity.
At least this Christmas Day I’d got a phone call; I’d not seen or spoke directly with anyone of course, but this is perfectly normal, and I don’t think affected me low spirits at all. Then the facinorous ‘Thought-Blasting’ came again. Then Shaking Shaun returned to join Dizzy Dennis, at least this stemmed the flood of confusing fears, worries, regrets and self-justifications and vindications. But still no chance of any sleep, so I turned on the TV, to pretend to be a normalish person, and watch the traditional holiday film of Dicken’s, A Christmas Carol, with Alastair Sim as Scrooge. I’d watched it, I don’t know how many times since it was first made in 1951, but annoyingly I stayed awake all the way through! Humph!
Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun continued to batter my oleogustustic body. Sleep resisted my efforts. I’d been up for around fifteen hours now. Bored, missing my chinwags and hobbles, generally feeling crestfallen, dejected, down-in-the-dumps and so annoyed at myself for some reason, or reasons!
I felt the need for the Porcelain Throne come on. Which, considering that all I’d had to eat was my traditional Christmas day very-large piece of pork pie all day? Out of the recliner, it was dodgy getting to the wet room, thanks to Dennis and Shaun. I then spent I don’t know how long, sat on the Throne, waiting for the action to start. I did my best, grunting and grimacing, had a go at the crossword book. Eventually, I gave-up, feeling trepidation, frustration and absumption. Had a wash, and weakly, I hobbled back to the recliner.
Dropping the stick as I sat down, stubbed my toe against the recliner’s metal foot, and wanted to cry. But I didn’t. Instead, I left the stick where it had fallen, plumped onto the chair, I silently cursed life, and tried to nod off to sleep, again. Futility came to mind, accompanied by an acceptance of the situation?
The stinging from the middle toe demanded some relief, so I rubbed in some of the Phorpain gel and then dropped the tube from my fingers as the finger-end neurotransmitters failed. I used the handily placed on the other seat kitchen towels, to wipe up the gel from the seat cover, floor my stomach and legs. Of course, bending down to get the gel off of the carpet, merely set-off Dizzy Dennis again, who had been calm, as the stubbed toe replaced him in the urgency stakes.
Depression and exasperation reigned, mangling their way deeply through, into my grey-cell box.
I hope for a better day, tomorrow.
I got back with a mug of tea, to the computer, and made a start, but the keyboard would not let me use the arrow keys. Grumph! I changed the batteries and cleaned it up, and tried again, but no go, now it was sticking every few wor
paperwork that came with it was ridiculously small! I put the glasses next to them in this photograph, so you can see the size, or lack of size, of the font, used! The new keyboard letters show you how minuscule the printed matter really was! Impossible to read at all! But the advice given me from my cyber-mate in New Mexico was consulted. The thing to plug into the computer was a bit much for the old fart, and I just did not know which hole it should go into! 
I woke-up, remembered I’d not emailed Jane & Pete about not coming, it was election day, the stomach was grinding away. Dizzy Dennis was affecting me even as I was laid-out on the £300 second-hand, rusty, rickety, sometimes working, ramshackle recliner. I was sweating with almost slimy skin. Coughing and Tight Chest Charlie was back again. 
Back to the wet room for a wee-wee, and what a release it was. A BOBSLTTFY (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived-Then-Trickling-For-Yonks) type. By the time I had finished, I’d forgotten what I was going to do next! Humph! Then, it had to happen, of course, I turned away from the bowl, and stubbed my toe on the metal raiser-legs, this caused a slight loss of balance. So,l I picked up the body-spray can, the Germoloid tube, the crossword book and dermatitis cream. The pen, I’ll have a look for again later on. Schlemiel!
I pressed on with the blogging. But, no time for any graphicalisationing yet, time to get the ablutionalisationing done. 
Great photo’s, taken by their daughter Debbie. Got me feeling a touch sad at my not seeing them for real, but glad to see them doing well. 
Then, half-way along Chestnut Walk in the rain, I was getting sodden wet through and chickened out of going on the hobble. I told Jane, we said our farewells and I got back inside, through the Winwood Court entrance, along the link passage, and into Woodthorpe Court. Up to the flat, and dried off! More stuff on the airers to dry! 
The Aldi smoked chicken slices were great. Tomatoes a little bland, but then again, they are out of season and Spanish so what should I have expected. The garden peas with demerara sugar were superb tasting. The beetroots well cooked and not too hard. The Morrison Cox’s apples were bruised and soft though. The cheesy-spuds were okay, but I’d not mixed them enough
Then I opened the unwanted and unliked, light & view-blocking window to take a shot of the rather prettily-lit view. And the wind nearly blew me backwards! The window blew in and clouted me on the shoulder. I would have dropped the camera, but for having the camera wrist strap on! Boy, it was vicious! 
g. Got carried away and the time is flying by after the bad start. Thank you, Mr Fries! 
I joined the huddle of Winwoodonians at the shelter, as the buses were due to arrive. Luckily they were both a couple of minutes late. The Arnold-bound bus arrived, and 90% of the gang got on this one. The City-bound one came afterwards, and we piled on it. I only rode up 
the hill for about three bus stops and got off near Woodborough Road. I got off and walked along to the Aldi store. The sun was intense but had no heat with it this afternoon. 
As I was going into the shop, I had a dizzy spell again. Getting a bit regular these are, Mmm!
There may be a clue as to the problems like this. I was going downhill, looking down when this took place? The same last month, with the falls, although in the flat. I was looking down both times when I toppled forwards and onto the deck?
Another mystery photograph I found on the SD card. Taken I think, on Mapperley Rise? 
A lot of bumph had been posted while I was out. As I bent to pick them up (the picker stick has broken, a new one needed desperately – but who keeps forgetting – Inchcock does, the fool!), it occurred to me, I was stooping and reaching out, and no signs of any Dizzy Dennis bother? This pu
zzled me, as I bet it will the medics, too!
garden peas adding demerara sugar). 
Added the evening doses of medications, and a swig of the ineffective, wishy-washy, impuissant medicines. 
The right-hand fingers seem to have lost their sense of contact with anything hard, again. I pressed the handle to get into the wet room and almost walked into the door! The broken-nerves failed to get the message that I was opening the door-handle to the brain, I suppose! I sincerely hope this is not going to get any worse. The leak was unexpectedly of the LHNC (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Sensation) variety. Rewashed the dandies, and back to the kitchen, once more.
I made a most tastefully satisfying brew of the Thompson tea. I’m addicted to this brand and Glengettie Gold tea bags. But fear that finding any Glengettie Gold locally may just be impossible! Ocado has none in stock and might not be restocking. As they have left the availability of the tea on their website as available, and you do not find out they have none until you get to the checkout! If you miss it, they’ll send substitutes! The Swine! This week is the third time I’ve made an order with them, and had to cancel it! I went on the Typhoo, who owns the Glengettie brand, web site. I got a Norton message telling me it was unsafe! I searched the web for local stockists but found none. ‘Grr! The only place I found any on was Amazon! Thank heavens!
arted on updating the Sunday post, but it was hard work with the finger-end nerves so bad. Ever correcting and making mistakes. None of them an ignotism, it’s not my fault, and I have to cope best I can. But, it’s getting to me this morning. Hindering, impeding, and aggravating, Globbledigooks! 
Taking my pictures was not plain sailing. I had no sense that the hand was shaking, but could see on the camera screen, that it was. But could not do anything about it. Grumph!
I tried taking a snap from the unwanted, crap, light & view-blocking, thick-framed new kitchen window after getting the washing done. But had to take four shots of the view above, to get this one that was okay. (My EQ, just knew I’d have to pay for having a decent day, [apart from getting soaked in the rain, Hehe!] yesterday!) 
Time to get Josie’s nosh prepared. Something a little different for her today. The tuna mixed with mayonnaise, plus some oven-baked smoked haddock on the plate. Mushrooms, gherkins, and tomatoes. Fresh orange juice and naughty but extremely nice, Limoncello desert. 
I noticed that the arm bruise had already lost its yellowish glow, and was disappearing fast now. I thought I could see a face-pattern in the markings, that’s why I took this picture but blown if I can see it now. Hehehe!
Stubbing my toe en route! 
To find the King Edwards all over-boiled and were in pieces with peel disintegrated. A right mess of overflowed water all over the cooker, down and onto the floor. 
As Malcolm Cowley wisely said: “They tell you that you’ll lose your mind when you grow older. What they don’t tell you is that you won’t miss it very much” Hehehe! 
00:40hrs: Woke in need of the Porcelain Throne. I extracted my worryingly ever-growing more flabby-body from the £300, second-hand, rickety, c1968 recliner, grabbed the four-pronged stick, and off to the wet room. A right mixed bag this morning. The evacuation began of its own before I was settled in the Throne! The oh so painful movement was in auto mode, I had no control over any actions taking place. And bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inchies lesion! And how come such a dollop again? The blood was cleaned up, new PPs adorned, washed up, and off to the kitchen (Feeling a stone or so lighter, Hehe!) 
I made a brew of tea, took an Aperture setting photo of the morning sky. Converted it to 32 bit, and it came out alrightish.
Although the pins (legs, knees) were not looking too healthy this morning. A new series of multi-coloured extra-large Clopidogrel blotches had appeared, as well as spots, blotches and welts! The knees looked very painful, but in fact, didn’t feel too bad at all?
The Morrison delivery arrived, I let him in the foyer door, (Yes the intercom was working!) 
Mary caught the bus to Arnold, and I set off on a hobble to the Asian store in Hockley. On the way, 
I cut through Heathcoat Street onto Goosegate, and noticed the Oriental Mart shop, and called in for a walk around. Blimey, it was messy and dirty in there. I did have a good search around to find Chinese sausages, eventually finding some in a fridge. But they were all dried air-tight packed ones. The writing was in Korean, Japanese or Chinese, and they did not look attractive at all, so I left, and carried on to the end of the road and left down the hill, to the Asiana Express shop. 
Unsure of how to cook them anyway, I left them and looked around and found some seaweed snacks and Skewered Beancurd nibbles. I think I have tried the beancurd before and liked it, but, of course, I may be getting this mixed up with something else. 
Knowing my recently increasing propensity for disorientation, and bewilderment, along with my involuntary adoption of a hazy-dazed-state of befuddlement, I might be wrong. Tsk! I also got tempted, by a bottle of Marca Pina Vinegar (Sukang Puti Vinegar), Made in the Philippines. 
I paid the lady the requested £9.64, and departed, up the hill towards Carlton Street.
, I was given plenty of chances to picture the many law-breaking and getting away with it, Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists going up and down. 
Top of the hill, I spotted an imitation policeman and a Sainsbury security guard, outside the store, having a good chinwag and laugh about something or other. I took this photograph just to prove that I actually saw an Police officer, on foot, in Nottingham City centre (Albeit an imitation one!)
I moved on down the hill on Pelham Street, where a gauntlet of beggars, salesmen and women and a counterfeit-bogus Big Issue seller (No badge, and only one copy of a very out of date magazine! Oh, yes, my investigative skills were on the boil, here!), each after some money of some kind from me. They didn’t get any!
I left the handwashing for tomorrow, (Which I may regret) and got the nosh sorted out. I put some black bean sauce in the pan, then the frankfurters, next, the rice and a little BBQ sauce. Ten minutes later, it was in the bowl on the tray with some Milk Roll bread, orange juice and a Limoncello dessert, oh and some seaweed nibble sheets. 
I got the headphones on. It was heavenly ecstasy, utopian, pure-pleasure, I fell asleep. I even began dreaming of a wonderfully pleasant, non-irritational, no-hassle life I was living in a cottage with Suzie and our family. I’ve never dreamt of such happy-perfection before. It was Bliss! 
I woke to sound of the flipping humming, droning sound that is all around the building, 24/7, non-stop! But it seemed to be worse, lounder and definitely more annoying this dark-dang early morning. Whether it was, or it might have been my frame of mind, or the hearing suddenly working again, I don’t know. It made me cringe at the knowledge that nothing could be done about it! 
Into the
kitchen, and started to feel a little philophobic for some reason that was not known to me. Another mystery of my beloved Woodthorpe Court. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! I was soon sorry I mentioned my getting-accustomed to using the new walking stick. I got tangled up with it and knocked over the stuff on the draining board onto the floor as I attempted to retrieve the situation. Pee’d off with myself Mode Adopted! 
Got the computer on, and was really irked, excruciatingly annoyed again, I still hated myself for having the tussle with the pots and losing the altercation. When…
I took a photo through the unwanted nor liked new kitchen through the with the thick-famed, letting the wind in when closed, light & view-blocking, window. I used the Nikon camera because I had worked out how to get the Aperture priority setting on. At night or in the dark, it automatically gives a highlighted picture, that I like
I spent many hours doing graphics for page tops etc. I must have spent six hours on these jobs. Thoughts and Day of’s even got a couple of templates made in advance, but I was feeling weary now. 
I made the nosh. Gammon ham, baked beans with added BBQ sauce, a sourdough baguette, lemon yoghourt and a tiny Cox’s apple. Took the medications with the meal. All good the stuff! (Not the medications, off course, Hehe!) Even the little apple was tasty, the sourdough great! The fooder was a bit of a feast really. 
I got the handwashing sorted and hung to dry. And yet again, the fingers, hand and arm lost nerve sensations, and I dropped some washing as I was taking it to be hung over the heater, it fell on the drainer, knocking the same stuff over that I did earlier! Got it cleaned all picked up and sorted. But Anne Gyna was not happy about the bending down again, and let me know. Boy, did she! 
The bucket had hardly been used again. I grabbed the stick, out of the £300 second-hand, horrendously tatty, beige coloured, c1968 recliner, used the bucket, and wobbled off to the kitchen. Where I took this shot of the morning view. 
Worra session it was too! There was not a lot of areas that weren’t bleeding! The poo, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, and the nose. Why? No idea, other than Harold’s piles of course. And it was another ginormous evacuation again. A good cleaning-up of the affected areas, then I disinfected the bucket. 
A good wash, and back to the nearly cold mug of tea. And took it with me to the computer. 
Hunger pangs arrived, and I had some cornflakes and nibbled a few biscuits. 
All okay, I set off, down in the elevator, which were now both working! 
As cold as I thought it was in the lift, it was far worse outside! Brrr! Shudder! 
There were 14 minutes until the bus was due. So I decided to hobble down the hill, to the earlier bus stop, thus helping me to keep the body a little warmer. 
I arrived in town and dropped off, going into the Poundland Store. I came out with the trolley bag full, and two carrier bags hanging on the three-wheeler bars. That reminds me, I have not given this trolley a name yet, I’ll have a think about it. I gingerly tested out the handling qualities of Three-Wheeled Tricia Trolley? (A bit long for a name innit?) In these bags were: Flying saucers, mould remover, diaries, nibbles for the bag, and a selection of sarnies for the After-Stroke clan. 
I hobbled, hazardously with Three-Wheeled Tricia doing her own thing, to Chaucer Street, and got in the Church Hall. 
I departed, and miserably made my way to the bus stop on Queen Street, aware that maybe things were already showing through the trousers?
island in the middle of the road. I go. It shows the difficulty the buses have in getting through the everyday traffic.
medicated things, and got the jammie-bottoms on, took the other clothes to be hand-washed and freshened up. Wrung-out and hung to dry, I later moved them on to the warm airers. Got the fodder put away.
The meal was consumed while I began to watch a Hustle DVD. A most delightfully enjoyed nosh it was! A flavour-rating of 7.9/10!
I was really enjoying watching the old series one Hustle DVD, despite my knowing what was coming up and the outcome of the story. Hehe!
02:10hrs: Trying to sleep was abandoned. After a night of sleeplessness, unit a ten minute-spell, when I did nod-off and had a nightmare of nightmares! A phantasma that consisting of just about everything I have done wrong in my life drifting through it! Misinterpretations, boo-boos, failures, errors, bad choices, goofs, faux pas, over and underestimations, inadvertencies, snafus, aberrations, and misdiagnoses. The dream even made me feel guilty about the typographical errors brought on by the peripheral neuralgia and failing memory! I had a hatred of myself and my actions, toying with my conscience! I was well-pleased when I woke up and thought it best not to risk my falling back to sleep and returning to that worryingly lurid and grotesque nightmare. It’s almost unheard of, a night-dream getting to me, but this one did! Oy Gevalt! 
I took the medications, and made a super-tasty brew of Gelengettie tea! 
itching in the leg started again. Out of interest, I looked up ‘Causes of itching under the skin legs’. Ahem! This is what I found on the web: Dracunculous: Guinea Worm Disease: The female can grow to 31 inches! Sorry I looked now! Haha!
and biscuits again, I suppose? I’ll have some of the Manner Lemon wafers, and then try out the new ankle support straps. (Failure yet!)
I walked along Upper Parliament Street to the big traffic island with Derby Road. The sun was out, but nit very warm with it, and the people of Nottingham seemed to be in a generally good mood. No policemen were seen at all, and the pins and Arthur Itis were doing very well for me! 
I was phlegmatic about the situation, though, it was almost as if apanthropinisation had taken me over. I just took this photo and calmly turned around, back down the Derby Road hill. Which is where the problems came into play: The three-wheeler-walker does not like going downhill! I got to the Albert Hall junction and had to go up a steep kerb, that I managed, but as I set off again, the trolley went over after hitting a broken paving slab sticking up! I manoeuvered myself somehow, so as to avoid going over with it, though. Innit amazing the things you keep in your three-wheeler-walker bag? I noticed this as I struggled a bit, to retrieve the comprehensive selection of hand-out nibbles, pen, crossword book, an apple, receipts etc. and bits and pieces that had accrued, and spilt out onto the pavement! Hehehe! 
After the close-call with the food-delivery cyclist ‘Herbert’, I was in a niggly mood and made my way to the L9 bus stop on Queen Street, taking this shot of King Street, on the way. 
Then got the computer on, and went on the WordPress Reader. But within minutes, another wee-wee, back to the BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) mode. Followed ten minutes later by a WYSAO (Weak-Yet-Spraying-All-Over) wee-wee. Variety is the spice of life! 
Then after making the brew, off to the Porcelain Throne in such a sudden hurry, I nearly tripped over the four-pronged walking stick, Huh! Saly for me, it was another messy performance. I’m glad I’ve got plenty of toilet rolls and antiseptic disinfectant in stock! It took me a while, and some effort to clean things up after the event. For even it was! I thought things had gone as they have been doing, everything over quickly. But, oh, no! I went through three separate evacuations one after the other! Each time using the tissue roll, thinking that was that. How the plumbing coped with getting rid of things, was amazing! This, and the wee-wee, thirst situation was not all bad, mind. 
It seems to have fooled Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna and even to a lesser degree, Peripheral Neuralgia Nigel, for all three were being far less bothersome than they have been the last few days! Mind you, certain areas behind are getting very sore and tender now, with Haemorrhoid Harold just now, starting to give me a bit of bother, I’ll put some cream on. Off to the wet room.
I got Josie’s umami-cheesy potato meal finished, and delivered it to her door, dead-on-time again, at 12:00hrs. She liked the look of it, but the photo I took of the meal, formed part of the ‘Mystery’ of my beloved Woodthorpe Court. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination, and somehow escaped from the camera SD card? (Snafued again!)
As it was not raining, I decided to visit the Winwood Court rooftop, to take some snaps. All prepared, wrapped up well (but no socks on of course), and I set out, taking the black bags to the waste-chute en route. 
Up in the lift to the third floor, and had a nosey out of the elevator door, taking a photograph of the view to my left. I also made a picture to my right, but that one even ended up as part of the Mysteries of Winwood Heights, that lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! As that shot also disappeared from the camera card!
Rooftop floor and out into the amazingly practical Winwood Court restroom and fully equipped kitchen. (It’s no use being jealous!) Where, for the first time, I met someone. It was not a resident, but a prospective client lady up there with daughter in the toilet and the lady waiting for her. She had come to view the place and decide if she wanted to move in or not. I had a welcoming natter with her, and she warned me of the high-winds out on the Al Fresco area. We both had three-wheel-walkers with us, and we laughed about if she did move into Winwood Court. Joking about our both setting up a jet-wash service for people returning home with mud and detritus covered walker-wheels, and we could become partners in a new Walker-wheel-cleaning service. Hehe!
00:50hrs: I woke, not being able to miss the signs of my nocturnal nibbling having taken place! Most of them were spread over my bulging stomach, crumbs in the belly-button area, the Manner Lemon Wafer pot on the floor, empty I might add! Obloquy-Mode-Engaged! 
I made a tasty brew of tea, took the medications, and had another wee-wee, of the rarely known lately, annoying INHBT (I-Needn’t-Have-Bothered-Trickling) mode. 
I was reaching for the camera when I noticed I’d imprudently turned on the heat under the saucepan on the stove! I pulled the pan off of the ring and turned off the heat. I got the camera and was about to open the window, to take some snaps when I noticed the burn mark on the back of my hand. I had no pain at all, until the eyes saw the wound for itself, that it started hurting! The Peripheral Neuralgia had not got the message about the burn to the brain! Another side-effect of my many ailments, sorry, issues! Haha!
The mushroom in the crock-pot is nearly done, I’ve got everything ready for the final cooking session. But I must get the template for tomorrow’s dairy done now. Then I can get the nosh done, and settle to get some rest, if not sleep. 
I’ll make a start on Sunday’s template now… see yers in a bit, providing I stay awake, Making so many errors and mistakes. Grumph! 
The rice, mushrooms, tomatoes, and franks with the seasoning, went down a treat! Flavour-Rating 8.2/10.