Tag: Sleep deprivation

Inchcock – Tues 16 June: Wristwatch, camera, the 7inch hair mystery and more. (Sorry it’s a bit long, one of those days!)

TFZers: Garden Party?

Tuesday 16th June 2020

Hungarian: 2020 Június 16., kedd

04:00hrs: I lay there on the c1968, rickety recliner for a good while, assessing my situation mentally and physically.

After a mild form of organisation was gathered in the grey-cells, the first thing was to check the time on my Charity shop-bought £2 wristwatch. It was not on my wrist.

Well, fancy that! This not only confused me but annoyed me. All my energy and concentration went on a search for the timepiece.

It was paramount to me that it had to found! But it wasn’t! Despite heaving and hauling my colossal-bellied body from the none-working chair, and ferreting about looking for the watch. I got the torch and picker-upperer and looked underneath the furniture.

Getting back up on my feet was a bit painful, particularly the back and Howard Hughes-like toenails!

Where signs of nocturnal-meandering activity were diagnosed. Down there, was the TV and DVD remote, and a pen? But no, wristwatch!

I looked in the kitchen, then the wet room, and rechecked them both! Back to the recliner room. I had to force myself to stop the search and seek mission. I was getting so uptight and self-critical over the loss. I told myself that it was a temporary irremediable situation. I didn’t like or believe it, but something had to be done to stop my going addictively bonkers.

It didn’t really work though, as I went for a wee-wee, I kept looking in the silliest places for the watch. The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived at the same time. Which was one of the easiest evacuations for a long time? A smidge of bleeding, but not messy. It was over swiftly, and little odoriferousness either. This should have had me moving into a Smug-Mode, but the worrying over the lost-timepiece was ever-present.

For the first time ever, the wee-wee followed after the big evacuation? A new style as well. I Christened it as an SWP (Sprinkly-White-Painful) wee-wee.

Limped off to the kitchen. The morning view, albeit a later one this Tuesday, was a little misty. But when I opened the window, it was incredibly mild, I thought. Ah, one there for Bill, a red car! Hehe!

I had a rummage around and searched in the daftest of places in search of the watch. With no luck!

BP sphygmomanometer readings were pleasing and should have cheered me up a tad. All were looking better. The thermometer just showed as ‘Low’, but this missing timepiece was still wrangling at me!

I took the medications, then made a brew. A thought suddenly came to me (they occasionally do), had I dropped my beloved timepiece in a waste bin? After searching through all four of them, I found out I hadn’t. Grumblegrobbledamn!

I started updating yesterday’s post. Diligently making many miss-typing and spelling errors! Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had started off again, Tsk! After a couple of hours, I went off limpingly to make another brew and needed two, I say, two, SWP (Sprinkly-White-Painful) wee-wees! (I’m not sure how much longer the carpet from the kitchen to the wet room is going to last, Haha!)

It seemed the mist was getting a little thicker as the morning went on? This time when I opened the window to take this photograph, it seemed a lot colder out here than it did earlier on? Brrr!

Another forage around in cupboards, drawers, etc. failed to find the £2 watch! Sob! Yet another wee-wee! Washed hands and contact points, and back on the well-trodden carpet in the hall, to Computer Cameron, and got the Tuesday blog finished at last. Despite Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, and Back-Pain-Brenda’s attentions!

I then got a message on the mobile. I had a look, and it was from Iceland. Telling me to check emails for details of changes to my order. What order, I thought? Then I investigated. Finding I had an order in for today, twixt 15:00 > 17:00hrs. Pathetic, I know, but I could not remember making an order for today? After examining the goods on the list, there was no doubt about it, the items were all things I might have ordered. A vague recollection of my looking at the ham misshapes?

Then, I noticed an Amazon email arrived. I used the tracker and got the map up, which means the delivery is close.

Ah, this could be dodgy time-wise, so I stopped and to get the ablutions done.

Not such a good session this time. I reckon this was because I was trying to rush it, in case the Amazon delivery arrived with the reusable facemasks. The teggies were done without any Whoopsies.  The shaving, well, there was a few.

The hairs were growing around the ear-holes, and I decided to use the razor to cut them. This did not work, so I got the scissors… I shouldn’t have done that! I should have known better, with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley being on form! Hehe!

The legs looked a lot betterer this morning, though. The toenails were hurting every time I touched or moved on the mat. No shower, trying to save time.

As I was drying off, I caught sight of something I’d not noticed before. Brief History: Many years ago, when I had Duodenal Donald surgery, the hairs shaved off, on my chest and stomach, did not all return. Then, when I had the Aorta Valve replacement, there were very few that grew again. Then, after the stroke, what an oddity, they all fell out?

Now, I spotted two hairs on my chest, in the middle of the lower op scars, nearer the stomach, I think. One must have been about seven inches long? I wonder if they can do a transplant to my head? Hahaha!

Got redressed, and on the Amazon site, to check the tracker.

The delivery vehicle must be getting very close now.

I went to the kitchen window to see if I could spot a delivery van or lorry out there.

A van was parked in the Emergency Only bay (As do all vehicles). But it was not an Amazon vehicle.

Then, a grey car came up and turned at the dead end, and parked in the Emergency Vehicles Only parking bay. As I peered down at it, it was apparent that it was a Taxi or someone getting a lift with his shopping. It was my neighbour, Malcolm.

I took what I thought was three snaps. Below is what I found on the SD card when I came to download them. How did I do this? I was using the Canon SX 740 SH camera. I’m confused as to what I did wrong?

I’d spent a while taking these pictures, and panicked a bit when I realised. Had I missed a call on the Intercom? Then I realised that if anyone had arrived, I would have seen them. I’m losing it again!

I loitered around the flat hallway, so I could not miss it when someone rang the intercom. Ten minutes later, the box chimed out, and I pressed the listen button, but the machine went to a blue screen with the message ‘Hi’ on it? I pressed the admit button, but unsure if it had worked or not? I thought of going down, but what if I pass the chap on the way and end up missing him?

This was turning into another farcical day for me! I held my ground, and a chap arrived with the masks. Thanked him, and of off he shot. Leaving the covers near the door for me. Thank you!

I got the masks out to take a look—three in total, washable and reusable. I put them on the shelving for future use. When I am to be allowed out, is unknown, but at least when the time arrives, something like the Opticians, Pediatric Clinic, Dentist or Audio Clinic opens again, I’ll be alright for using the bus, at least. Of course, that is if I can live through and survive this isolationing. And put up with the agony from the uncut toenails, toothache, and mental anguish. Hahaha!

I made a brew and went to take a photograph of Marie’s, Koala Katie, and Pattie’s Scruffy, donated pets for me ♥, who I talk to each day, as they rest on top of the DVD shelves. But the Canon camera came up with this message as I returned the SD card. ‘Card cannot be accessed. Reinsert/change the card. Or format with this camera. Oh dearie me, what next is going to go wrong!

  • I took out the card and checked it was on the ‘Read’ position, which it was. I returned it to the camera, and still got the message.
  • I tried doing the same again. Same message!
  • I tried the other card in it, and that was alright.
  • Rechecked the Canon-card. Swapped it between open and closed, and put it back in. Same Message!
  • Removed it again, and was now out of ideas… It worked!

A sigh of relief was proffered forth.

Then I took a picture of my beloved pets and had a little chinwag with them.

Then I remembered the disappearing wristwatch. Surely it must be around the chair, I had it on last night, I think.

A long time ago, I wrote this view of the mysteriousness of the flat. Tim Price helped me. It’s grown over the months and is a little too long now, but I like it for a bit of fun and have used it a few times on the blog: 

“Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, and kehuas. Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear, and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?” Well, now it’s getting more like a fact now, than fun! Hehehe!

Anyway, I had no luck with searching for the wet room and kitchen again for the watch.

My phagomaniac tendencies came into mind. And I returned to the food cupboards and fridge to ponder over what I fancied for my nosh.

Then I remembered the forgotten about Iceland order arriving twixt 15:00 to 17:00hrs. I decided to leave the meal until after the food arrived and I would make up my mind then. I’ll have a pot noodle, I can have if I get peckish… no, not a good idea! It will ruin anything I have later… Hello, I’m hesitating, equivocating, indecisive, vacillating, well, getting all muddled again! Decision-making and I were not meant to be a team after the Stroke.

I went on Facebooking then. I moved on to making-up a template for tomorrow. Got them all done, and…

Gluglegnatsworth!  I got out of the swivel chair to go and make another brew, lost my balance, and toppled forward,  dropped the China mug putting my hand out to break the fall,  landed on the recliner. As I came to rest, I found the missing wristwatch on the tray on the Ottoman as I dispersed the contents!

Unbelievable! This was the first place I looked for the timepiece as well, and did so again at least two more times during the day!

The painful fall, and even more hurtful getting back up my bulky, but flobby-body back on my feet, was somehow not as bad as it should have been! The delight in finding it was tempered by my confusion as to how I failed to see it in my earlier searches. Confusion Conrad was rampant and befuddling! And my confidence was at a low ebb!

I took some waste bags to the chute. Then a couple of recycling bags down to the caretaker’s room.

Doing the blog back up again, forgetting all about the tea I was going to make, I got on with updating this blog again. Warden and desk-top-dancer, Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress, Deana called, to check on things. I explained about my having to remain in isolation until the Doctor phones to let me know when I can be freed. Haha! Everything was fine, though. Little things like this, are appreciated, and supportive of my retaining my mental health. (Well?)

Back to the blogging and a message came in from Iceland. They are ahead of schedule and should arrive between 15:00hrs and 16:15 hours.

Life in one’s dotage, I always thought, would be slower, and much more hassle-free. Humph!

Dizzy Dennis, Saccades Sandra and Shaking Shaun all came on at the same time, and this was worrying. Yet, within around five minutes, they’d all left, leaving me with a cracking headache!

Iceland’s delivery man arrived. Thanked him and slipped him a G & T to him in thanks, and got the bags from the doorway into the kitchen.

Still a bit of a mystery as to how, when or why I made this order? But it had all the usual sort of stuff I have in it. I hope I hadn’t had a ‘Blank Moment’. Nott that I can say anything specific about these lapses, but, usually, I find out what I’d done, but no iota of any knowledge of this one, if it was one… I’ll stop mentioning it here, I’m confusing myself more than ever.

I got the goods stored away. There was a tray of frozen Chinese belly pork, the only thing different to usual. So I had that for the evening nosh. I’m worried that the cupboards may fall off of the walls! Haha!

The nosh was prepared and served up. A bit of a palatable feast as it turned out.

The Chinese belly pork, I cooked adding some Hickory. The last of the sourdough muffins, buttered and filled with off-cuts of smoked ham. A Marmite cheese disc, onions, beetroot, gherkins, and tomatoes. A lemon yoghourt, and a lovely crispy, South African apple to follow. My sitomania was well satiated this time. Gave this meal a Flavour-Rating of 7.8/10.

Incidentally, I found myself forever looking at my charity shop-bought, £2 wristwatch throughout the meal. I slept with it on tonight, fearing it may hide away from me overnight, again. Hehehe! 

Oddly, Sweet Morpheus was not interested. I put the TV on, it was a load of hogwash showing, yet still, I didn’t nod off?

When it did arrive, it was filled with pestering dreams. Colin Cramps was waking me up, and I think that each time I nodded off again, I rejoined the same, or similar dream?

Hey-Ho!

Inchcock – Wednesday 10th June 2020: Another escape to town, in the rain. An Irritable day, with the odd pleasant highlights

Wednesday 10th June 2020

Filipino: Miyerkules ng Ika-10 ng Hunyo 2020

00:00hrs: Already up, and finished working on this updating of the Tuesday post, and sent it off.

Then went on the WordPress Reader section. Then I Pinterested a few snaps, next onto Facebook. Spent some time on Facebooking. But it eases and pleases me, and I enjoy it. Then, on to CorelDraw to get some graphics done.

Oh, Gawd! From nowhere Dizzy Dennis attacked, I really did think I was going to fall off of the swivel chair, and a headache developed at the same time, on the right side of the head! Enough, when I felt stable enough, I got sat down with a drink of orange juice, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked off, which prevented me from nodding off for a while, but sure enough, as things calmed down further, I drifted off into the land of nod!

I stirred around 06:00hrs. Disinclined to wake or get up, and the Thought-Storms started. The need for a wee-wee arose, and the urgency increased. So at least that got me and my oleaginous, body out of the £300, c1968, second-hand, not-working, disconnected rickety recliner, and to the wet room.

A brand new style off wee-wee today, (It’s interesting having so many ailments!) I’ve Christened the mode as UDYP (Urgent-Deep-Yellow-and-Painful). It’s encouraging to be able to report that Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding at all! All done, washed the hands and contact points, and as I was going out of the door, I had to go back in to deal with another rushing-gush wee-wee of the same variety!

I wiped and washed again, and off to the kitchen to do the medicationalisationing.

For some reason, unknown to me, as the bare feet got on the floor tiles, they were so cold to the touch?

The BP readings were different this morning. SYS well up, at 173, DIA 83, Pulse 77, and Temperature was 37.8°c. When I got out the tablet dispensers, I worked out that I had enough up until Saturday morning. This is when ILC, Ballerina, Comforter, Obersturmbannfuhreress, and Warden, Deana, said they should be delivered by the Carrington Chemist. I made a brew…

Gordon Bennett! The first sip was taken, and agony invaded the teeth! Cricky, it made me jump! Of course, the toothache was well set in, and kept on all through the day! Gragnangles! 

Coronavirus is to blame for many of my new ailments.

  • The chemist cannot get the Saccades Sandra spray yet!
  • The paediatrist is closed until further notice!
  • The dentist is closed until further notice!
  • The Audio Clinic (Running out of hearing aid batteries) closed until further notice!
  • The Opticians closed until further notice!

I decided I’ll see if I can get out and about later, and try the audio clinic for some batteries. That is if I can manage the haul up that terribly steep and demanding Park Row hill. Might I change my mind later?

I took a photo of Chestnut Walk. I think there is a free car parking space available. A seldom known, extraordinary happening here at Windwood Heights?

I got on with updating. The rain and darkness repeatedly came and went, and finally, the updating got finished. The job was all done and dusted.

Off I trudged to the wet room.

The ablutions were soon got into with gusto. The shaving didn’t go exactly according to plan. But the teggies were painless, well not pain-free, cause of Toothache Thomas, but at least I didn’t have any bleeding from the gums.

The pins were looking a little battered, and still very much of the ghostly-anaemic design! The volumingargantuan, onerous hog-like, ponderosity, bulk, flabby stomach, may well have gained a couple of inches of girth overnight? But I’m sure I did not do any nocturnal nibbling?

After getting myself dressed (I can do it on my own now, you know, Hahaha!), I pottered about faffling, panicking, and double-checking everything before I dare set out to catch the bus to town to get the hearing-aids (And take some photographs).

I went for a wee-wee, and this time it was of the SS (Short-Sharp) mode of exudation and was the colour of a suppuration, it really was yellowy-green!  Don’t be jealous, though, if you live long enough, it can still happen to you. Then all these exotic, appealing ailments, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and mysteries I write about, will become apparent and understandable for you. I didn’t mention logical on purpose. (Hahaha!)

A semi-serious, convoluted message came from my EQ! It was certain; The trip out was going to be frustrating and depressing. I should consider not going out! Mmm? The Emotional Quotient is rarely, if ever wrong! Foolishly I ignored the warning and got everything needed in the three-wheeler guide, made sure the bus-pass, door swipe, keys and crossword book were taken with me. Double checked the lights, faucets and electrics, all seemed okay, and off I went. With a big bag of recyclable material over my shoulder (not really, it was on top of the trolley, Haha!), and out I hobbled.

Down, bag in the bin, and ambled along Chestnut Drive, as the drizzle started to come, camera at the ready. I stopped for a few moments under the Chestnut tree while the rain was more substantial, but it soon weakened to just the odd spit falling.

As I got to the bus stop, I met Welsh William. I told him about Timothy Price’s marvellous clip of the owlet and told him if he gave me his email address, I’d forward the link. Then told him of what happens in the video. No interest was shown, which surprised me, I thought he’s loved to have seen it. He went off talking to someone else. Ah, well! Bless him, his free choice.

I limped over to where Peggy and Christine were nattering and bothered them. (Hehehe!) Peggy had on a seriously good face-mask, black, and it looked good quality built. Christine had hers on, and me too! They then told me that, from next Monday, anyone travelling on a bus must wear a mask. I decided to get another or two while out today.

They all got on the Bestwood bound bus with some other tenants, and I was all alone again. Then, slowly it dawned on me why! I’d got the bus times wrong once-again, Humph! I think that my EQ was right! With only going out once in months, I’d forgotten about the L9 service now being on a permanent Saturday roster, meaning a bus every two hours! I did feel a clot!

Back to the flat, and I took a few more photographs en route. One of Winchester Court main entrance. The flowers outside Winwood Court’s foyer, they were beautiful, especially so, with the petrichor, the aroma of earth and rain! Lovely! Then snapped the frontage of Winwood Court. A lot of open windows today?

Back to the apartment, and put these pictures into the computer. A letter had been received, telling us work will be taking place on the roof and will be noisy.

It’s going to be a long day, now I have to catch the 10:30hrs bus. (If I knew then, what I know now, I wouldn’t have bothered going out, the hearing aids batteries, and a mask so I can get on a bus, persuaded me to go though! Of course; as you will read later, I managed to get neither of wanted items! (Note to Self: In future, do not ignore the EQ!) Grumblecronkackers!

I set out once again to get the bus, at the right time this time, for the 10:30 L9. I was the only passenger to get on, but the bus was fullish, and with the side-saddle seats not in use, I had to sit on the outside of a standard chair, and hang onto the three-wheeler, to prevent it rolling away at each corner the Graham Hill fan, the driver took.

I was feeling worn out by the time we got into Nottingham. I was going to call into Wilko and the Poundland shop to see if the yhad any face-masks in. But, Wilko’s had a note on their window, telling us they had none left, but would do their best to get some for us!

And the socially-distanced queue for the Poundland shop filed around the corner for hundreds of yards! So, I had a walk to the Poundstretcher store on Milton Street. This where I got the face-mask from last week. Of course, they had none left in stock, either! Gragnackles!

However, I did get of my favourite McVities orange flavoured chocolate biscuits. A bottle of Woolite washing liquid and a bag of black bags.

As I came out of the shop, into the more torrential rain now, I met Gertrude, an old friend from years ago, and we had a natter in a doorway to keep dry. But her telling me she had just gone tot he Audio Centre to get herself some hearing aids, and they were closed, did not do me a lot of good! Silver-Lining Search Result: At least this saved me hobbling up the hill to find out!

I made my way through Trinity Square, avoiding the now-famously suicidal and dangerous to others, Deliveroo pavement cyclists.

It was a depressing hobble. What with so few people about, and those I met or spoke to were all down in the dumps, or in a snappy mood.

The change of rules for the bus passengers having to wear face-masks, causing another shortage of supplies.

The drizzling rain soaking us all through. 

The much colder weather, and a general atmosphere of, well, what’s the words I’m looking for? Depression is too strong a word… oh, I don’t know though!

I walked down and through the Slab Square and onto Wheeler Gate, noticing the two, what looked like new Police Community Officers, in their brand new uniforms and stab-vest, watching as they ambled around, ignoring the pavement cyclists, the vehicles parked on double-yellow lines. A scuffle taking place for a moment on Long Row encouraged them to walk up King Street in the opposite direction.

I called in the Poundland shop there, and they were not busy at all. The manager even greeted me as I went in, asking me, cheerily; “To take your time, no rush, you might spend more then!” Hahaha! It worked, no face masks available there either, but I did spend a bit. Buying, 2 lemon-sherbet concentrated disinfectants, (No, I’m not joking) 2 Lemon Verbena & Cucumber air sprays, (No, I’m not jesting here, either, Hehe!) 1 can of beef in gravy for a quid. 1 pack of Indian seedless grapes, a packet of walnut-halves, and cashew nuts. A packet of BBQ chicken pieces, and a packet of pork slices with stuffing! And a pack of six mini-jelly pots! By gum, the lady who helped me put them through earned her can of G & T!

I paid-up and had a hobble in the rain to St John’s Church, and called in the Sainsbury’s small shop, to see if they had any face-masks available. Nope! Shame! But they did have some decent looking tomatoes of which I bought a pack and some seafood sticks.

I had a wander around the City Centre, before going to the bus stop, cause I had plenty of time. I spotted the imitation police officers, now on Upper Parliament Street.

I made my way to the top of Queen Street. The drizzle was easier now.  A police car sped by, followed by an ambulance. And the Theatre Royal & Royal Concert Hall, surely one of the ugliest building ever built?

Then as I was going down to the bus stop, one of the infamous Deliveroo cyclists, floated down Queen Street at a fast rate of knots, in the wrong direction. Queen Street is one way, up the hill!

I considered pointing this illegal Road Traffic Act naughtiness out to the two heroic imitation policemen who were still nearby, with their hands in their new tunic pockets, keeping away from the earlier well avoided, Long Row scuffle.

But they had given me some rum looks when I photographed them earlier, so I thought better of it. Hahaha!

The L9 arrived with two drivers, and they kept me out in the rain for a few minutes while they chatted. No help offered in getting my heavily overloaded walker-guide onto the bus. I had to sit in the same deadly seat as going into town. They got off, of the bus.

I got one of the chicken pieces out of a bag to nibble. When the boss man got back on, he said: “There’s no eating allowed on the bus, youth!” And kindly offered me a scowl, worthy of a David Cameron sneer! And so I stopped eating!

The ride home was uncomfortable and I banged my ankles, elbows and knuckles, more than a few times as I fought to stop the trolley wandering off each time the bus screeched around a corner.

I was well in the dumps by the time we got back to Winwood Heights.

EQ was right! Colin Cramps were coming on already!

As I got into the flat’s foyer, Josie came behind me, and we had a little natter. When she heard of my problems in getting a face-mask, she fetched one for me to have. How kind of her! I got the fodder put away, and made a mug of Glengettie.

I updated this diary for a couple of hours, then, very late on now, I got the beef nosh sorted out. Beef and gravy, with extra caramelised gravy added, potatoes, garden peas, apple pies, seedless grapes, and lemon yoghourt. Flavour rating: 8/10.

So late, so tired, and soon slid into a much-needed sleep.

An Irritable day, with the odd pleasant highlights.

 

Inchcockski – Monday 1st June 2020: A muddled, flummoxing Monday!

Monday 1st June 2020

Hmong: Hnub Monday 1 Lub Rau Hli 2020

02:30hrs: I woke, in no mood to become active in mind or body. Gawd blimey, I was still so tired! Never have I had such Clinomania, and reluctance to wake up, let alone get up! A little discussion between my brain vs my lack of willpower and interest in anything, resulted in the recreance winning this time, and I nodded off into sweet obliviousness.

03:10hrs: I stirred again, and had another battle with myself as to get up or not! I seemed to be in a state of hypnagogia again. I felt I had to rise, whatever the body and ailments told me, and I was determined to. I fell asleep again!

04:10hrs: I came back to reality yet again. This time with the need for a wee-wee, forcing me to beat my reluctance for returning to the land of the living. Robotically, I inched my ginormous wobbly-stomached burdened body out of the creaking, £300, second-hand c1968, grotty, repellently beige-coloured recliner, with the sticks assistance, I got up onto my painfully long toenailed feet.

As I struggled to get to the wet room, I espied signs of nocturnal nibbling on the Ottoman tray! But at the time, no feelings of guilt were sensed, for the wee-wee was getting more urgent now!

Unfortunately, in my haste, I knocked corner stand, and I heard things fall off of it. No stopping, onward, the wee-wee must be released! And what a wee-wee! An HPSAUOC (High-Pressure-Sprinkly-Unexpectedly-Orange-Colour) style. But not a long one, and no pain with it, so that was good!

As I was cleaning and medicating Little Inchies bleeding fungal lesion, in between the stabs of pain as the Daktacort® 2% w/w Miconazole nitrate and hydrocortisone cream was applied, it dawned on me, (things like this do happen (occasionally). I spotted some empty clementine juice cans on the Ottoman.

I wonder if these might be the reason the orange wee-wee?

The ankle-ulcer was looking far betterer, and Arthur Itis was not acting up too much either, which was a plus.

It might have been my eyes or desire, but when I sneezed, I’m sure the Big Belly Bernard shook less than usual? (Well, I can dream?)

Also, and as well as, Anne Gyna was kind to me. No Dizzy Dennis or Reflux Roger, Shaking Shaun or Back-Pain-Brenda visits!

Fair enough, Toothache Tim and Duodenal Donald were making up for this, and a sore throat was developing. But overall, this getting up late seems to suit me? But, of course, most likely it just fooled the other ailments temporarily. Arnie Schwarzeneggers? They’ll be back! Hehehe!

Washed and off to the kitchen. Where I took a distance shot from the kitchen unwanted, light & view-blocking, thick-framed windows, there were obviously designed by someone suffering from ‘Mere-Exposure Effect’ syndrome.

It was my Zyrophobia suffering, supercilious Brother-in-law Pete, who made me take a close-up, of the City Hospital. The poor lad will be in there this morning, having another biopsy done on his mystery ailment. I thought it might cheer him up a tad, reading this if he can afterwards. The yellow rectangle is the area I zoomed into for the second shot.

All the best, Pete, mate! Nowt you can do, but await the results now. I pray they are good news. I have thought you’d have escaped and taken a photo of the flats? Hehehe!

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, took the medications and got the thermometer and sphygmomanometer out. The machine was like me earlier this morning, not interested in working!

It took me three tries to get it to work. (it took me the same to get up! Hahaha!) 

The plates of meat were giving me some stick, and for some unknown reason, the area around where the ankle ulcer comes up now and then was extremely itchy. Yet there were no signs of any inflammation or new growth? With the nails getting ever longer, I’d continued not to wear socks, I even took the slippers off to ease things.

But they’ll go back on after the ablutions are done.

The stomach felt a little firmer, I think. But this might be and usually is, a prewarning of the innards about to kick off. I anticipate a battle between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Conrad to ensue. Which will prevail I wouldn’t guess. Lately, it seems to go from one extreme to the other nearly every day. Still, it makes for a bit of interest. Haha!

Toothache Tim kicked off on the first sip of tea! That put the mockers on drinking ant brew for the rest of the day. Gangleboggleisations!

I made a start on the blogging update. It was as if someone was turning on a tap every half-hour or so. I swear you can see the imprint of the four-pronged walking stick, and outline of my feet in the carpet, to and from the wet room, I had hobble there so many times! Silver-Lining Search Result: But, at least I got the update done in reasonably good time, with only Shuddering Shoulder Shirley giving any real hassle. My thanks to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, Shaking Shaun and Dizzy Dennis! Bless you, all!

After the umpteenth wee-wee, I made a mug of Glengettie tea and went on CorelDraw while it cooled down before trying it. Argh! Toothache-Tim, was not pleased, in the least! I threw it away. That’s the end of my tea drinking for the day! I took an extra Codeine 30g. (Too late now of course. Silly old sausage!) 

I set up the template for today’s blog. Then went on the WordPress reader. Then onto the Facebooking, which I enjoy so much. Then it was time for the ablutions to be tended to.

I’d done the teeth, bloodlessly, but it was a bit painful with Toothache Tim nudging his way into the scene. (Swank-Adopted!) While I was moving the clothes, I’m sure I saw the shape of a rabbits head in the moved flannels. Can anyone else see it, or am I going daft? Or maybe I should say, dafter?

I photographed the stomach before and after the shower. But there was no difference as I could see.

The shaving activity brought about a few dropsies, not many. Razors (4), shaving foam can (2), and a decentish clouting of the back of the hand against the sink. The showering went fine, in fact so well, I was considering giving myself a medal. Hahaha!

I got dried off and set about the perfumery and medication duties. These took longer than the teggies, shaving and showering out together! Olive-piled the ear-holes first. No Saccades Sandra spray left to use, Grungleclapskin! Applied the Germoloid cream (Wince!). Then got some after-shave on the one tiny cut. Sprayed the Brute deodorant over the elephantine body. Last of the Brute spray used up! Got the Phopain gell well-rubbed into the knees. And carefully, Note no toe-stubbing or dropping of the showerhead again! Smug Mode Adopted! I made my way to the front room to get clothed.

I had to get the slippers on, a sharp intake of breath, and a silently mumbled ‘Argh!’ later, and I was ready to get the black bags and recycling prepared for taking downstairs.

While doing this, I decided that tomorrow, I will try to catch a bus to town, (if they are running) and visit, (if they are open), the Poundland shop, now my curfew has been eased. It’s all a bit vague innit? Later I’ll ask on the Winwood Heights Facebook, is anyone knows about the buses and Poundland.

I got the bags made up, and onto the three-wheeled trolley walker. Off to the waste chute room. Gawd! the toes and plates were giving me agony! I pondered over whether going out tomorrow was a good idea or not after all?

I struggled a bit getting the bags in the chute, not because they were heavy or large, they weren’t. The problem was Shuddering Should Shirley had kicked off again, and she meant business this time. This encouraged the right legs involuntary drop-something and have a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance. Nearly had me over, so it was a good thing I was in such confined space at the time!

I left the trolley in the lift lobby. taking a moody photo of it, with the shadows, as I returned to the flat, to pick up the fob key, just in case when I went down with the big bag of recyclables, I got locked out. (It has happened more than once, Tsk!)

Back and collected the trolley, using the walls in the narrow hallway, so I didn’t worry if I had a funny turn, the dancing returned, or Dizzy Dennis visited. 

Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was merely giving the odd twitch now, but I knew she had not finished with me yet.

Waiting for the lift, I got the camera out, ready for when the lift doors opened. I’m glad no one was in it at the time. Haha!

Down to the ground floor. Met and had a few words with Ethel in the lobby. Then through the caretaker’s passage to the bins. Both of the caretakers were there outside, and Steve took the bag from me. A few words, during which Shirley gave them a display of quality Shoulder Shuddering. Which drew looks between the two men, and an “Are yer alright? and frowned foreheads. It’s so embarrassing when someone is nearby when this happens. I said I was fine, thanks. I must have looked a right pillock as I shook my way back inside.

I increased the heat to high in the crock-pot with the potatoes in, and opened a tin of peas and put them in a saucepan. Then, as Shirley was easing off, Duodenal Donald started, a bad do too, supported with a bit of stabbing from Anne Gyna. Ah, well, things had been to calm earlier on, it had to come.

I could find no details about the buses on the website. So asked on Winwood Heights Facebook, if anyone knew about the buses or Poundland store. Hugh ‘thinks’ the L9 is running in a Saturday timetable. If so, That’ll do me.

I decided to take some photos from the balcony. Seemed a good idea at the time.

I got the right side Metal-Spring controlled, that needs the recoiling bit pressed and pulled at the same time to do open it, (potentially lethal, but okay for Winwood Heights old folks to use) with merely a bruised finger and elbow this time. Then took a couple of pictures.

Beatiful views

Tried Josie’s door again. No answer.

Tired out and still shaking a bit, I got the nosh prepared. I ate it in an auto-mode, no idea why, but as the concentration gave way to fatigue, I’m sure I enjoyed it.

Wash the pots up, and as the dying sunshine blasted its last beams on earth, I got the camera and tried to take a decent shot of the scene.

It dawned on me then, I can’t remember using the Porcelain Throne today? But being in the languorous, lackadaisical, lethargic state of mind I was in, I wasn’t sure or certain of anything.

I’m not sure what happened for the next half-hour or so, I sort of came-back into focus as I was in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, with my legs up high on the old swivel chair, and deep in thought about tomorrows plans to get out to town on the bus. Then I remembered that this will not be possible, I’d forgotten about Jenny’s helping me out ordering stuff for me, it’s being delivered Tuesday. Hey-ho! As much as I was looking forward to getting out, for some reason, this did not bother me? Maybe, I had underlying fears of going out after so many weeks lodged in the flat?

I soon found that Sweet Morpheous was uninterested in letting me get any rest. The Thought-Storms began, tormenting me with memories that I hadn’t recalled for years. I’d guess it was gone midnight by the time I finally managed to nod of.

Hey-ho!

Inchcock – Sun 31 May 2020: Sometimes, I feel happy, merry and gay… but not today!

Sunday 31st May 2020

Icelandic: Sunnudaginn 31 Maí 2020

00:00hrs: I’d just got the Saturday blog done and posted off when midnight arrived.

Sleep has been unavailable, none-existent all night. But now, after setting up this template, I will try again, I need some rest. Why I could not get off earlier is a mystery. Maybe the sudden hot weather, or the day I had yesterday? Everything that happened reminded me of my bad fortunes and luck. I was grumpy with myself and got annoyed and irritable most of the time. Carping in the brain, moaning, cantankerously belly-aching, whining on, and wingeing and ended up boring myself!

Well, at least I got things shut down, and settled my corpulent, boing-boinging bellied body into the second-hand, £300, c1968, puckeringly-beige-coloured recliner, without any injuries.

I’d half-hoped to get off to kip sharpishly, but no. I turned the TV on, that often helps me fall asleep. Especially if some programme comes on, that I want to watch. But insomnia prevailed. I just lay there trying to stop the thought-storming, for ages, hours!

05:15hrs: I bestirred, the main expergefactor being the need for a wee-wee. Out of the recliner, and to the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket) SWOT (Sprinkly-Weak-Orange-Tinged), mode. Took the container with me to be cleaned and sanitised. An out-of-the-blue need for the Porcelain Throne was tended to, and a flipping good job I was in the wetroom at the time. Else I never would have made it in time to the Throne! Phew! 

Not messy, or gooey, but keenly-painful (they all are nowadays!)

Disappointingly, as I opened the kitchen window, I realised by the wonderful petrichor, I’d missed the rain. The ground outside was not soaking wet, so it must have been a short shower of sorts. But it left a beautiful whiff in the air! A bit colder this morning too.

Made a brew, medications taken, and after another quick wee-wee, the sphygmomanometerisationing commenced. Sys was back up a smidge, and the thermometer read 32.9°c (91.2°f) which is, I think, healthier than it’s been for a while. That is if I remembered the way to convert from Celsius to Fahrenheit. Ended up using Google) My arithmophobia doesn’t help. Nor the discovered too late to counter it, dyscalculia. Sad, innit? But, I had to laugh when they told me about it, it brought to mind Dracula! Hehehe!

For some unknown reason, typing this, reminded of the Dr in the cardiac unit, in the City Hospital. I know I had been given some pre-transplant drugs, but it seems soundly entrenched in my memory – I hope it’s true and not a dream I’d had. A Mr someone or other was going to observe the procedure.

The surgeon came to the bed and told me about this Consultant who was on his way to see me. “We are holding back your other pre-op meds, in case he wishes to speak with you!” “I’ll be back with him later, Mr Chaplin”. I mentioned my name was Chambers. Minutes later, Dr Khandowa introduce me to the Consultant as Mr Chamberlain! I recall thinking: “Gawd-blimey, and he’ll be replacing my ticker in an hour!” Hahaha! He did a good job though.

The assistant who put the metal strips through the ribcage to reseal it afterwards, whoever he was, had put them in, as the nurses said when they came to take them out days later ‘Tighter than we have ever seen them done before! I had never had pain like it before, even when I got shot. The nurse was sat on my legs heaving and puffing to pull the metal strips out. One nurse kept spraying liquid Morphine in my mouth throughout the job. Through it all, I have a distinct, pleasurable occasion though… But of course, once the metal tubing was removed, the nurse had to get off of me and the bed! Shame!

I waffled there again, I beg your pardon.

Then, after one more wee-wee, of a different calibre this one. A SWAT, (Sprinkly-Weak-Apricot-Tinged) configuration. I then made a brew of Thompsons Punjabi, and went on CorelDraw and Paint to make up some urgently–needed graphics for later use.

But plans were again cocked-up. No doubt prompted by the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?

At least this time, it only lasted for a few minutes, then came back on of its own accord.

Started again on the graphicalisationing. Three hours later, I was feeling real-weary, and not got o very well with the graphic making. For one, not from the ailments, just from the tired worn-outness. I must get some sleep in, this lack of sleeping is getting farcical. Just to point out one problem its causing; as I wrote ‘farcical’, I thought of a more suitable word, then cleared farcical from the blog, and forgot what the word was I was going to replace it with! So, I put ‘Farcical back in. I down know whether to laugh or cry! Yes, I do! Hahaha! 

I rang Sister Hane to ask about Pete, and blow me he was back at home again! He’s to go back in for the biopsy tomorrow. The chap in the ward with him is having chemo and told Pete of the problems with it. I lost the signal while talking. I rang back on the landline, but it doesn’t-half cost to call mobiles on it. Despite all the Up-in-the-Airness of things with the hospital, Pete sounded okay and accepting of things until he gets the job done, and analysis later. His spirits seem reasonably high. Good for him. I’ll have a look at the City Hospital with the binoculars tomorrow, see if I can see him. Hehe! Jane and Pete told me I could go out from tomorrow. But I won’t go without a mask. I’ll check the Government statement later.

A few minutes late, the door chimes rang out the ♫ I only want to be with you! ♫ tune. It was Josie, to let me know she was going out with her Nephew, to celebrate his birthday. I wished her all the bestest, but I felt a little concerned she was going out, so soon.

The Nikon camera battery was flat, so I got the Canon to take a photo of the Puff-Puff clouds, and that was flat, in fact, it was dead! I cunningly got out the old Lumix, thinking it might have enough power left in its battery. I didn’t. So, I’ve now got all three on charging. And if I want to watch telly later, the computer will have to come off. I’m such a lucky-bugger. Hair-brained, too!

I got the nosh prepared. I hope I can stay awake long enough to enjoy it. With virtually no sleep for such a long time, I feel confident of dropping off. But, hopefully, not before I want to. Worra life, innit! Into the kitchen to take the meds and prepare the meal.

I remembered about looking at the latest can-do again things Jane mention. So I got the computer back on for a look:

Vulnerable people in England and Wales advised to stay home since the coronavirus lockdown began will be able to go outdoors again from Monday. This change means people will be able to go out with members of their household. Those living alone can meet with someone from another household while maintaining social distancing. Support for shielders, such as food and medicine deliveries, will continue.

Those shielding should not go out to work, to shop or visit friends in their homes. Around 2.5 million UK people were advised to stay at home as lockdown began because they were identified as being at particularly high risk of needing hospital treatment for coronavirus symptoms. Most were notified by their GP. The list of people who should be shielding includes, Clinically extremely vulnerable people may include the people listed below, though disease severity, history or treatment levels will also affect who is in this group.

  1. Solid organ transplant recipients. (Ah, I’m in here!)
  2. People with specific cancers:
    • people with cancer who are undergoing active chemotherapy. (Nope not me!)
    • people with lung cancer who are undergoing radical radiotherapy. (Nope not me!)
    • people with cancers of the blood or bone marrow such as leukaemia, lymphoma or myeloma who are at any stage of treatment. (Nope not me!)
    • people having immunotherapy or other continuing antibody treatments for cancer. (Nope not me!)
    • people having other targeted cancer treatments which can affect the immune system, such as protein kinase inhibitors or PARP inhibitors (Nope not me!)
    • people who have had bone marrow or stem cell transplants in the last 6 months, or who are still taking immunosuppression drugs (Nope not me!)
  3. People with severe respiratory conditions including all cystic fibrosis, severe asthma and severe chronic obstructive pulmonary (COPD). (Ah, I’m in here!)
  4. People with rare diseases that significantly increase the risk of infections (such as severe combined immunodeficiency (SCID), homozygous sickle cell). (Nope not me!)
  5. People on immunosuppression therapies sufficient to significantly increase the risk of infection. (No idea what this means!)
  6. Women who are pregnant with significant heart disease, congenital or acquired. (Nope not me!)

People in this group should have been contacted to tell them they are clinically extremely vulnerable.

Some scientists have expressed concerns about England’s easing of lockdown rules while infection rates remain at around 8,000 per day according to the Office for National Statistics. “Many of us would prefer to see the incidence down to lower levels before we relax measures,” said Professor John Edmunds, from the London School of Tropical Hygiene and Medicine and one of the government’s top advisors. “Covid-19 is still spreading too fast to lift lockdown in England,” tweeted Jeremy Farrar, director of the Wellcome Trust.

It’s all confusing to me!

Back to gerrin’ some nosh prepared and eaten. The five-beans in vinegarette were pretty tasteless and bland, despite my adding Hickory and Balsamic vinegar while heating them up. Most disappointing, because it said they were in vinegar, I felt certain they would be delicious and bought four cans! Huh! Three to get rid off.

As for the other stuff, they were all okay. The seedless grapes, this time from Egypt, were a lot less sweet than the Indian ones, but this was alright with me. The sourdough muffins were well Marmited and went well with everything else. I soon satiated my hunger, cleaned the pots, thought about having a shave, but felt so tired I rejected the idea. (Which will probably mean more bleeding when I have to shave so much stubble off in the morning, Tsk!)

I got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, and events seemed to have been lost into the ether. I can remember nothing else, until waking in the morning? And, I got about 6½ hours kip in!

Must have been triederer than I thought. Hehehe!

Inchcockski – Saturday 30th May 2020: I Whinged, whinged and whinged today. Sorry!

Saturday 30th May 2020

Dutch: Zaterdag 30 Mei 2020

02:30hrs: I woke, the brain caught me up, and the sound of the annoying ‘Hum’ all around was a bit louder than of late – but, no time for that – Wee-wee-William was wanting to be freed!

Getting my unhealthy, aged, gargantuan oversized-stomached decrepit, body from the recliner and onto my feet, was no easy matter this morning.  But apart from Arthur Itis’s knees, the overgrown toenails, the ankle ulcer, the leg ulcer, Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Anne Gyna, there was little bothering. Hehehe!

I limped over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and painfully proceeded with passing a WSSUGG (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Greeny-Grey) wee-wee! It still confuses me, how overnight, I cannot remember struggling out of the recliner at all, let alone hobbling over to the bucket or and using it, but it was half-filled? Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?

As I entered the kitchen, I thought I’d photograph the view of the new, unwanted, thick-framed, unliked, letting-rain-in, designed by a nasty, foul, cruel photographers-hating designer. That has been deliberately modelled so that no handicapped or elderly camera-user can take a photograph of Chestnut Walk below, without risking life and limb to climb the stepladder to see what he is shooting. Inevitably causing injury, upsetting Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna, Dizzy Dennis, or Back Pain Brenda. Toe-stubbing and falling off of the ladder is something that will no doubt please the architect or whatever Satanistic nerd, who planned the layout. But it doesn’t bother me! I fear a niggly-period just might be coming on, sorry.

Photographed Today!

I got the kettle on. The pot is near the air-vent on the wall that kept falling off, and the wind howling in when I first arrived at the flat. (See Photo right!) A fitter came to have a look at it (in 2016, I think) and booked me in for call two-months later for someone to tackle the problem. A young man arrived as planned to tell me it has been cancelled due to an emergency. ‘Fair enough’, I said, ‘can’t be helped’. I got a letter a week later rebooking the job, for a date three weeks later. A different young man arrived, had a look and soon set about with his foam filler, and plugged the hole. I thanked him, and off he shot, and I went shopping. But it doesn’t bother me!

On my return, I found it just like it is now (Only whiter). WArden Dean called them for me to explain, and I got a booking for a call four-weeks later. A man arrived, agreed it was terrible and needed doing, especially as the foam had covered the electric socket and gone rock-hard. ‘I’ll get it booked in for you’. ‘Thanks, mate’. ‘No problem!’ But it doesn’t bother me!

All this was before I got the ankle and leg ulcers. Then got diagnosed with the Peripheral Neuropathy, (dying nerve-ends). Had to use the walking stick and/or the walker-guide. But it doesn’t bother me!

Then they rushed me into the hospital when I collapsed in the recliner, nothing found wrong? Then weeks later, I had the stroke! Spent six weeks in the stroke ward, then another four in a care home. Got back here, the right ankle giving way, dropping stuff, walking into things, collapsing with dizzies and Anne Gyna was confirmed as a new ailment for me. Then diagnosed as diabetic. But it doesn’t bother me!

The plastic cover still drops off now and then. The socket flashes with static. But no rush, I’ll be a goner soon, then it will be easier for them to mend things when I’m not in the way. ready for the next tenant. But it doesn’t bother me!

And now, five years later, I’ve given up all hope of getting an appointment to get the kitchen made-safe and cleaned up, and I am in no state to do it myself. But it doesn’t bother me!

Touch of self-pity and frustration crept in there big time, sorry again!

Made the brew, did the medicalisationing. The sys had crept back up a bit. The pulse, too, but I think it’s within the range. But it doesn’t bother me!

Got Computer Cameron on, and made a needed graphic. Then started on updating the Friday blog. Thins went reasonable well, ailment-wise!

Got it completed and sent off to WordPress. Emailed the links. Pinterested a while. Had a long, but enjoyable bash on TFZer and Winwood Heights Facebooking’s. Visited the WordPress Reader section. Then, off to get the ablutions done.

Farcicalisation comes to mind. It was to be just a stand-up job, else I might miss the Iceland delivery (A farce in itself, tell you about further on) and it was too early to use the shower anyway. But as you will see, things didn’t go according to plan!

The first thing, I found, was that I needed the Porcelain Throne to be utilised! Boy, had Constipation Konrad made a comeback! Agano would not be too a severe word to describe what I went through, or rather, what went through me! Hahaha! I thought it was going to be one of those grinding marathon sessions again, I got the crossword book out. But things fooled me, all of a sudden, things moved of their own accord… I had visions of my body being found, split into two halves! Blimus, the most hurtful evacuations ever! But it doesn’t bother me!

Silver-Lining Search Result: At least if I could rush the cleaning up, I could still have time to sort the black backs to the chute before the Iceland van arrived. The feet didn’t look too bad, but the discomfort was!

The gums were bleeding, I got a bit too enthusiastic in my rushing the brushing. Tsk! The dropsies weren’t too bad, mind. The razors had a few flying off trips. The three shaving cuts were spread about. When I tried to cut the hairs behind the ear lobes, one nick on each side, and when I caught one, yes, caught one razor, as it shot out of my other hand, I sliced a tiny bit of of my finger end. Damned bad luck at the end, I dried, deodoranted and dressed, and Dizzy Dennis paid me a call, as I was going through the door, clouting my right shoulder on the frame.

Now, this has kicked Shuddering Shoulder Shirley into action! Which is currently making typing a bit of a task. But it doesn’t bother me! I’m fed-up listening to myself moaning. A closer look at the toes and feet in the front room showed that the ulcer had died down a lot, far less inflamed. The nails need attention, I must ask Deana if she can ring the clinic for me on Monday.

I got the waste bags made up, and took the three to the waste chute on the walker-guide trolley. Both lifts are now working as well. Although not in use.

Back to Cameron, and on WordPressing. Half-an-hour or so later, the Intercom rang. I limped to the panel, and it was not working! I got the feeling, that if I was to snuff-it soon, the other tenants might hold a long-distance party… I feel sure my abysmal luck is spreading throughout the fabric of the building! What next is going to break-down?

It was the Iceland driver, bless him, he kept trying to ring, but there was no response to the accept button, and the screen did not show anything or any voices heard. I gt a jacket on, to rush down (rush? hahaha! I am a fool!). But the door chimed out, someone had let the bloke in. He told me that a colleague of his could not get in earlier either! As I said, what next? The lad left the stuff near the door and shot off, he didn’t look too happy, and I don’t blame him.

Bargain in the Tango orange juice, box of 24!

The freezer and fridge were chockablock now! I got some of the Jersey Royal new potatoes in the slow-cooker, added some Hickory flavouring.

Then back on Cameron, starting this post off. After three hours or so, and the same amount of SFRTFC (Strong-Forceful-Reluctant-To-Finish-Cloudy) wee-wees, I got one of the Rocket Sours iced lollies from the freezer, and started to suck it vigorously! Lovely-jubbly! No taste to it mind, but it was cold and fizzy, highly acceptable! If this heat stays with us, I can’t see these lollies lasting long. Hehe!

The thermometer gave a reading of 34c indoors. I’m sure it must have been hotter outside. I took what was left of the sucker with me out into the balcony, which I thought was a good idea, to open a window and take some shots of the divine weather…

I went arse-over-tip on the first step over the raised door gliders! And what a kerfuffle!

I put my hands out in front of me to lessen the fast-arriving im[act with the wooden slated running boards… the iced lollipop disappeared the slats, never to be seen again! I instinctively tried to grab between the gaps, and I got a splinter in the same finger I’d sliced with the razor earlier… But it didn’t bother me!

Then, the Herculean task of getting back up again, which was handicapped by my trousers falling down! You couldn’t make it up! I was more bothered about anyone seeing me in this pickle than the pains I was in! Gluglegnatsworth!

Stil on my aching stinging knees, I crawled out of view back into the flat. What are the odds of someone seeing this little contretemps from another balcony? I cringed at the thought!  But it doesn’t bother me!

I got myself sorted out. Getting back on my feet awkwardly, and banging the right knee and stubbing a toe! Cribblebogangonies! But it didn’t bother me!

It seemed that the braces had become unclipped during the tumble. I bravely tried to look nonchalant, and got the camera and wandered (Carefully!), back out to the balcony. I got the camera and scanned all the balcony’s in view, but didn’t see anyone in their p[od. (Fingers crossed) I took some shots of the folks below.

I must have caught the selector-wheel, cause one came out a different size and shape than the other? This dog above on the left is the one I names ‘Yappy’. His bark could be heard by me, all the way up here on the 12th-floor, and without my hearing aids in! I took a picture of the housing straight ahead. It looked almost like a painting? But the sunshine of strong in reality, but not in the resulting photo?

I took a photo of the puff clouds, and wallowed in the sunshine, leaning against the sharp edges on the balcony windows, and began to feel someone settled, almost at peace with the world. The warmth, the lack of breeze, and sounds of dogs and kids, but no vehicles… It felt so good to just relax…

Of course, the landline burst into sounds and flashes! No blooming rest for the wicked! I got back in, still moving wearily, and it was Sister Jane on the line. They (The Hospital) were keeping Pete in, ready for another biopsy by a specialist on Tuesday I think she said.

He’s got a television supplied and a laptop, they bring him newspapers when he wants one, has a choice of meals and is in a sideward with just two beds! But, it doesn’t bother me! In the stroke ward, it was packed solid with patients, some on trolleys, often I didn’t get a meal at all, the night staff always came and opened the window wide, which was right next to my bed, and they threw me out three weeks too early cause they needed the bed for an emergency. The ambulance staff threw me in a wheelchair, and left some of my stuff behind, but took some belonging to the chap in the next bed with me! I got put in a care home, full of patients who were not fully with it. Even there, one day, I didn’t get fed! Attempted stabbing, fights, I had to make a witness statement to the police… But it didn’t bother me! I’m not jealous, oh, no!

Jesting aside, (Not that the above incidents are not genuine!) I bet poor old Pete is bored rigid in hospital. His arm is deflating, so he even has no pains to distract. He’s always been an active bloke and is not too keen on medical institutions. I wonder if I dare nip out to see him? No, I’d better not. Knowing my luck the trousers would drop down in the sideward. Hahaha!

Nosh time. Bit of a heavy load, but I ate it all up. Not that it was very good, though. The garden peas were alright. Taste Rating: 5/10.

Got the pots pans and me washed up.

I got down earlier than ever, to watch some TV, with the aim of nodding off and getting caught up with some sleep.

Fat Chance! The ticker was racing away, the Thought Storms attacked, and after a few hours of failing to get to sleep, I couldn’t even manage any nod-off moments, plenty of rising for a wee-wee episode, mind. I decided to get back up and get Computer Cameron going to update this blog. And of course, escape the thought-storms.

Well, pickle my walnuts! My luck-status was confirmed!

So many things have bought injustices, jealousies and failures on my behalf today, I’m sick of my own whinging! All the lights were out on the Virgin box. I went through the usual procedures; pressed the reset button – Nope! Turned of the computer and rebooted – Nope! Turned off the power to everything, restarted computer and the Liberty-Global Virgin Media box, Nope! Things looked bleak!

I went for a drink of orange juice, the evening horizon looked worthy of photographicalisationing, so I did! For some reason, this shot reminded me of a Clint Eastwood Italian Western.

Still no Liberty-Global Virgin Media, but the box was actually now flashing two lights!

I went on to CorelDraw, and made up a Coronavirus Humour Graphic. This took about an hour to get done. Hello, three lights on Liberty-Global Virgin Media box now, things are looking up! I saved the graphic to the hard drive for later use and had another wee-wee (The orange tint was back).

Aha, four of the five Liberty-Global Virgin Media lights on now. So, I tried again to access the web… Great! I’m in! Slow going, but still!

I found the latest figures for Nottingham. These facts were being published regularly, but now they are hidden in sub-texts and different sections. Likely a Government ploy, as the figures are still rising overall, but now, in Nottingham anyway, more deaths in care homes, more than in Hospitals for the first time. Huh, I’m a  cheer-chappie today, ain’t I?


Got on with the updating of this blog again. Then went back on CorelDraw to see if I could find inspiration for more graphics to use.

Harrumph! I give up trying to sleep cause I just can’t do it, and now I find myself falling asleep at the computer!

I went on Facebooking for a while.

I’d better get this finished off, checked and posted.

Inchcockski – Sunday 24th May: A day of dilatoriness, delays and ditherings

Sunday 24th May 2020

Azerbaijani: Bazar 24 May 2020

TFZer May Gardeners

04:00hrs: I woke up, for about the twentieth time, in imperative need of another wee-wee. I was out of the £300, second-hand, rickety recliner swiftly. I caught my balance, grabbed the stick, and hobbled over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket).

I found the bucket, too full to risk using again. And miraculously, I carried the bucket, and the walking stick, to the wet room, and arrived in time to avoid any leakages en route! A certain amount of smugness was gleaned from this little victory!

I started off in a regular man’s standing position, the wee-wee was barely a trickle. Then I had to do a quick turnaround, and got seated on the Porcelain Throne, for the, (what I thought was) on-it’s-way evacuation! But no, things stopped part-way again, and the crossword book was utilised for many minutes, as I sat there wincing, before Constipation Konrad decided to reactivate and release items. Just as yesterday, a messy dollop that took several flushes to remove. And a heck of cleansing and medicating certain bodily area afterwards!

How many folks do you know, who wake, go for a wee, need a sudden dump, that sticks half-way. Toys with his crossword book for 15 minutes, waiting in pain before Constipation Konrad allows movement again. Then has to clean-up and treat Little Inchies fungal lesion (Nearly crying out in pain as he does so), then the same for Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Finally, get himself a quick wash. Good Heavens, it was an hour-plus by the time I’d done this little lot! I was ready for some sleep again! Hahaha!

Still, on the bright side, there were no trips, tumbles, Dizzy Dennis or Shaking Shaun visits. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and Duodenal Donald were trouble-free! Saccades Sandra was a smidge blurry at times. But, fair do’s, Anne Gyna was stabbing away, and Reflux Roger was bothersome. The worst thing at this moment is Toothache Tim was starting to ache a bit. Can’t win ’em all!

Off to the kitchen, took the BP, Sys 155, Dia 69, Pulse 72 and temperature showing as just ‘Low’. Sys reading is a bit high. When I took the medications, I felt like having an extra pain-killer, to counter Toothache Tim. But with the rear-end passing problems, I’ve already been taking extra Codeine, and this may be contributing to the Constipation Konrads recent run of success in fouling up my evacuations? After a little ponderisationing and circumlocutionary dithering, I decided to take only an extra Co-codamol. I’m not sure how I arrived at this decision, but I’m almost sure it made sense at the time. Maybe?

It must have been gone 06:00hrs now. I opened the unliked, unwanted, letting draughts and rain in, thick-framed, light and view-blocking, cannot be accessed for cleaning, designed by a photography hating designer, window in the kitchen, and took a couple of snaps of the morning’s cloudy skies.

With an unnatural for me, turn of determination, I laughed at Nocodemus’s dying nerve-ends, and Shoulder Shuddering Sheila best efforts at disrupting my progress, and delay me further! I contemptuously sneered at their designs to deter me from my computerisationing! Admittedly, it took me far longer than usual to get the updating finished, but I mocked their (Nicodemus & Sheila’s) painful efforts, by not letting them get to me in the slightest! (It was as if someone else was in control of my mind?) Time for some Sanity-Testing, methinks! When I realised how I’d coped with the attacks, all calm and almost nonchalantly, the biggest swank-mode-ever came over me.

I went on Pinterest to post a few photos. Then checked the Emails and posted the link.

As I went onto the WP Reader…

And, as a testimony to my composure and restraint this morning. (I know, it’s a little rare!), I had no urge to question the parentage, abilities, greed, ridiculously sickening to ordinary working people salary, or bullying nature of Mr (No idea how to give a service that works – but I still get paid) Fries, at all. Honestly!

Unflappably, I just put the computer in sleep mode, and went and got two black bags made up, and limped to the waste chute with them. Returned to the apartment, and looked in the fridge to decide what to have for me nosh later on.

Not only that, but I made my choice! All logical-like, sensible and worked out! I will make Josies first, I’ll have some of the Iceland sausage burgers, make extra cheesy potatoes for Josie, and have them cold with the sausage pattie thingies in bread rolls, some tomatoes as well later on. I then planned Josie’s nosh. Cheesy spuds, gherkins, tomatoes, cheese discs, Tuna chunks in brine, mixed with some BBQ mayonnaise, garden peas and mackerel in mild chilli sauce.

Back to the computer, booted her up, and the internet was back working. I finished the WordPress reader perusing. Sent the links off for the blog, and got a can of the San Benedetto, Primo Spremtura Clementina juice from the fridge, and took a swig as I worked for an hour or so, CorelDrawing making a graphic to use on tomorrow‘s Inchcockski.

Oh, by Cragknackles! That was a mistaka-to-maker! Toothache Tim was most annoyed with my stupidity in gulping down the biggest mouthful of the ‘Oh-so-cold, clementine drink! Now my new-found calmness and acceptance mode was changed immediately! Argh! I dare not try any more painkillers, so I had to grit my teeth! But, I was aware that it was my own silly fault! Schnook!

I turned the computer to Sleep Mode and got on with Josie’s nosh. All went well. apart from taking a photo of the good-looking meal, with no Simcard in the Nikon, not realising until much later when I got around to, theoretically uploading it. My mood is sinking back toward the darkness, now! Oy, Vey!

Delivered the meal to Josie’s door. She asked if she could pay me, but I wasn’t having that! I told Josie, no need, as long as she likes it, then that’s enough for me! Bless her! 

I got on with updating this blog for a few hours. Oh, the wee-wees have died down now! Just thought I’d mention it, like. Hahaha!

And then, again…

I gave up, turned everything off, and tended to making up my own dinner. Got the sausage patties in the oven, dribbled with a drop of Hickory Garden peas in the saucepan, and cheesy mash on the plate with the tomatoes.

Unbelievable, now out of the blue, Dizzy Dennis is having a bash at me! He was worryingly persistent this time. The stomach began rumbling and grumbling, but no pain with it, just a tad uncomfy.

Got the plastic plate piled up with pretty fodder, and poddled to the recliner to digest the decent looking pot-luck, potlatch. Overall Taste-Rating: 5/10.

The sausage patties looked natty and appealing. But oddly with no smell coming from them when they came out of the oven? I should imagine, if I’d had patties made of paper-mache soaked for a week in stagnant 20/30 gearbox oil for a month or two, the taste would have been the same. Eurgh!

Got the washing up done, and nipped to the wet room for freshen up. I took this photo of the just above the belly button burn mark, I got last night, and recall taking it to make up a funny idea I had for a graphic. But blown if I can remember what my idea was now! Something about a black hole?

The rumbling innards did not indicate any Porcelain Throne needs, though?

I got down in the recliner, to struggle to find sleep arriving. Tons of nod-offs, mind, that lasted a minute or so each time.

The damned ‘Hum’ became louder the longer I failed to nod off properly.

Many get-ups for a wee-wee again. Not easy having so many, in my physical state. I’m concerned that the walking stick ferrules will wear down to a frazzle! Hehehe!

Take care folks, hope you are all coping ‘wiv-fings’ okay. TTFN!

Inchcockski – Wed 20 May 2020: An Unglefrogwoggling sort of day. Hehehe!

Wednesday 20th May 2020

Afrikaans: Woensdag 20 Mei 2020

TFZer Gardeners

01:00hrs: I stirred from my short, disturbed slumber, finding myself in a perky mood. Unnatural, this was, for elegiac Inchcock.

I slowly worked through my body, assessing where I could, the state of the ailments.

The head: Saccades Sandra was not overly affecting the eye-sight. No headaches. Fair enough!

Neck & Shoulders: The persistent of late, Shuddering Shoulder  Shirley was twitching a bit, I’m not sure if she was dying down from a nocturnal attack, or building up ready for a morning assault. A little dubious about this; hopefully, she’ll not get any worserer. The stiffness from last night in the neck was a lot easier. Silver-Lining?

Arms-Hands-Fingers: The left-hand-side was normal. The right with its Peripheral Neuropathy and stroke side-effects were a twitching elbow. Nicodemus’s dying Neurotransmitters. Had left me with some lack of touch-sensation (I must take care when I go for a wee-wee or make the tea, Hehehe!) Anne Gyna, was giving out some mild spasmodic prodding across the chest, but nowhere near as acute as yesterday. Duodenal Donald was still asleep I think, best not to disturb him. Silver-Lining?

The innards were mildly rumbling. Something brewing in there? Reflux Roger was at full belt from when I first woke-up. I reckon the valve is stuck open at the moment, cause he’s causing a bit of pain, which is unusual. I’m confident once I get a cuppa and bite to eat, things should improve, very acidy taste in the mouth and throat this morning.

Good news, no bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion. And no wet and warm feelings from the PPs, regarding Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Fantwonderfulski! Silver-Lining?

Down to the legs, and I stood up to bear the weight of my short-plump-flobby, overly-sized drooping stomached body, on the legs and feet. Argh! The souls of the plates were a lot less painful than they were yesterday morning! Goodski! Silver-Lining?

But, Rheumatoid Arthur Itis’s knees were the opposite, grindingly, searingly hurtful. Can’t win ’em all! The old ankle ulcer scar seems to have gotten biggerer overnight? The overgrown toenails were stinging a bit as soon as the weight got onto the legs.

I think the body overall, had a smidge more colour to it, Silver-Lining? Then again, I am colour blind.

Thinking it was a bit nipper this Mittenwoch morning, I put on the thin dressing gown. Then realised I’d left the balcony door wide open all night, so I closed it. Seeing the view outside as I did it, I got the camera, took a shot of the pins (above), before, I took a couple of photos from the balcony.

I was so pleased to be able to get back into the balcony to take some photographs. (Thanks, to Obergruppenführer, Prima Ballerina, and Warden Deana) In my excitement, I forgot about the damned metal-spring retaining clip, that needs to be pushed to bend, and pulled to open at the same time. Of course, Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failed at just the most inopportune moment, and I now have a tiny, but painful blood-blister on my thumb! Arglebonkangony!  

I got carefully, to the wet room for a wee-wee, no demands for the Porcelain Throne yet. Had the EBSC (Energetic-But-Short-Painless-Cloudy) wee-wee, and got the kettle on. Took the medications, olive-oiled the earholes. Rubbed some Phorpain Gel on the knees, and took an extra Codeine 30g, and to the computer.

Botted her up, and the first job, got a template done. Not only did I have to contend with the attentions of nasty-nerd, Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failing, and Shuddering Shirley, the shoulder shaker, which was so frustrating, but also the Liberty-Global Virgin Media crappy service! (Who pay their I lost hours, the internet kept going down and slow repeatedly. With the ailments causing me to lose more time, in correcting and checking everything so often! Blanglebotherations!

Mike Fries is Chief Executive Officer and Vice Chairman of Liberty Global. This article on his salary, I found on Forbes site.

Telegraph: The boss of Virgin Media owner Liberty Global faces shareholder protests this week after receiving payment and bonuses of more than a quarter of a billion dollars since acquiring the cable operator six years ago. Mike Fries’ total remuneration last year topped $33m (£26m), nearly double the prior year, despite a 40pc slump in the company’s share price. I bet he got more than my 98p interest on his personal account last year!

And still, despite the fortune he gets, (note I didn’t say earns!) he can’t supply a block of Warden-aided apartments in Sherwood Nottingham, with even an imitation of a reliable internet service! I’m not surprised! Just look at him. He’s the appearance of a Mafiosa boss, to me? Mind you, he’s good looking. Haha!

Note, the threatening, ‘It’s your fault’ pointing finger? The grand service I had from the then, Richard Branson owned and ran Internet service, is much lamented. It has been crippled and destroyed since Fries mob took it over. But I’m not jealous, oh, no! The saddest part is the service is still better than the one I had when I used BT (British Telecom) years earlier.

Sorry about that, I got carried away a bit there.

Things settled on the internet problems, just the odd going off-line for few seconds every now and then. Humph! I got the update finished at last. Went on the WordPress Reader section. And I made a start on this post.

Got as far as to here, and went on the TFZer Facebooking. Spent an hour and a half on it.

Stopped, put Computer Colette in sleep mode, and went off to get the Ablutions done. Still no signs of needing the Porcelain Throne?

A genuinely successful session, with few Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas! Yee-Ha! A handful of dropsies, no toe-stubbings and only one nick shaving, and I came across the missing tube of toothpaste (It had somehow dropped of the toilet cistern, under the WC), but I did lose, or couldn’t find the after-shave anywhere? Well pleasing!

I made up the box of recyclable materials, then three bags for the chute.

I used the three wheel-walker guide to carry them to the waste chute room. Dropped them down, and returned to the lift, and down to the caretakers’ room.

I had a peep out of the small window in the link passage, that shows part of Woodthorpe Grange Park, at the rear of the building.

Then I dropped the box in the caretaker’s passageway. Had a bit of a struggle to get the door opened on my way back to the lift foyer.

I had a perusal of the notice boards but did not see anything new on them to be of any interest to me.

 Then to the end near the main foyer door. The place was looking a bit tatty, but that’s because of the Coronavirus stopping the upgrading work.

Dizzy Dennis paid me a visit at this point. A bad one, but short-lived, thankfully. Conveniently placed, the wall was utilised for a second or two. Hehehe!

I remained where I was to give things time to get back to normal. Well, I say normal? Hahaha! I turned back and took a shot of the even gloomier looking lift lobby. I entered the main lobby area, knocking my arm against the door frame, uttered a couple of curse-words, and stood still for a few minutes, as I got the feeling that Dizzy Dennis was about to attack again. But just to make me feel a fool, he didn’t.

I spotted that the bottle of hand-sanitiser left on wall ledge had been stolen again! I find this disgusting. Whoever is doing it, resident or visitor. Contemptible! But I shouldn’t be surprised, even the bottles supplied at the hospitals are getting nicked! Sick! It destroys your faith in humankind!

I thought for a moment that I saw a mouse in the bare brickwork in the corner of the lobby. But I must have been wrong, on looking closer there was nowhere for a mouse to go.

While I was bent looking, a dirty great-big meat fly flew out. It didn’t half make me jump! Even I had to laugh!

I poddled outside, and blow me down with a feather duster, there were the caretakers near the bin. From a distance, I bored them both rigid with as I nattered and chinwagged on. It must have been tedious enough for the poor devils, but Stuttering Stephanie must have made it worse! I can’t help it, I do love a bit of persiflage, no stopping me after going so long without a good schmooze. Haha!

I hobble away, feeling guilty, and spotted some new colourful growth amongst the trees at the end of Chestnut Walk.

Life seemed to be returning, but with ten weeks left yet, of my hospital-enforce isolationing, the feeling was only brief. I was really feeling quite low as I returned into the flat’s foyer. Crigglebogsnot!

Back up to the apartment. I fought my way in with the trolley-walker, taking a bit of skin off of my right knuckle, as I farted about getting the trolley in through the door. Twit!

I got the oven heating, and put a large jar of black bean sauce, with some Hickory and Balsamic vinegar added to it. I aim to get the bacon cooked and into the saucepan of beans to season the bacon with. I’m going to have some sourdough muffins with them.

I got updating this blog as far as here.

I took the cooked bacon out of the oven, added it to the pan of black bean sauce on alow light now.

Then went on the Morrison site, to add Balsamic vinegar to the order that’s in. Well, that went well, they’ve only got some at £20 a bottle! I left it.

I went on Amazon to see what their prices were for balsamic vinegar and Hickory. Bejesus! Look at the prices for Balsamic!

I investigated the Hickory costs. Always high, but I can’t find any for sale anywhere else.

This is the cheapest they had on sale. I’ve not tried it before. I just hope it’s tasty enough. Oh, dearie me, I feel I might have made a mistake here! At least it’ll be delivered tomorrow, I hope not too late. This Colgin brand works out a little less pro-rata than the other ones. I hope it proves to be as tasty and well-flavoured.

I’ll get the meal sorted out, now.

An odd-looking bowl of fodder, I must admit. Just bacon and black bean sauce, with only hickory, added. Sourdough muffins, a lemon mousse, a can of San Benedetto Clementine drink and mug of orange juice. A low-cal bar of chocolate nougat.

Strange as it looked, it tasted great! I made muffin sarnies of bacon and beans, regularly dunking. Devouring all of it with coenaculous relish, and degust. Mmm! A flavour rating, of a deserved 8.9/10! Took the evening medications.

I got the pots washed, and got down really early in the £300, c1968, second-hand, rickety, not-working, past-its best recliner, legs up on the swivel chair, watched some TV in between two-minute noddings-off. Nibbled some of the Branston-pickle flavoured Mini-Cheddars. I was soon in the land of nod properly.

Dreaming of certain activities, I used to be young enough and fit enough, and capable to partake in (Carole). It truly felt like it was all really taking place, happening. I was young and most contented, in rhapsody… I was most chagrined to find out it was only a phantasm!

Both of the door chimes rang out the Dusty Springfield tune of, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫. Disappointed in finding out that the dream was not real, I bumble my way up, out of the recliner, fell back down in the chair again, landing on my haemorrhoids and feeling them hurt and bleed. Collected myself and balance, and tried again, grabbed the stick, got the jammie-bottoms on, and limped to the door, feeling the blood trickling down my the inside of my legs. (There’s no doubt about it, old age is daily, more interesting, busy and dangerous than earlier life ever was, Hehehe)

It took an awfully long time for me to get to the door. On the floor outside the door, was a carrier bag. Some kind soul had kindly gifted me three cups (the three are on the right in this photo, the first one being my current favourite mug). Bless them, I wonder who it was? Jenny? Josie? Deana? I put the cups in the bowl after taking this snap of them.

In the morning, I’ll check to see if any emails had come in telling me whoever had delivered them. Whoever it was, Thank You Kindly! ♥

To the wet room to clean and medicate Little Inchies fungal lesion. Back down in the rust recliner. But no chance of any sleep. After trying for ages to encourage Sweet Morpheous to visit, I got the TV on and found there was a film on, so tuned to that channel to watch it. Even when the adverts came on, there were no nod-offs. Humph!

It was gone the witching hour before sleep came. I recall seeing another film coming on at 01:00hrs, and deciding to try and watch that. I nodded-off within minutes of it starting. This being about 25hrs after first waking up. Zzzz!

Inchcockski Today – Tuesday 19th May 2020: Dizzy Dennis was rumbustical tonight!

Tuesday 19th May 2020

Javanese: Selasa 19 Mei 2020

04:55hrs: I awoke from my dream-filled stupor, and began to try and recall anything I’d nocturnally envisaged. I knew without thinking that I was underground, caves, being chased, running away from someone… several people, they were shooting arrows at me… but no more recollections were gleaned. I do hate it when this happens!

As I rose from the rickety, second-hand, c1968, uncomfortable, none-operational, recliner, things seemed to be going well. Until it came to putting down my feet, and standing up, with the massively-stomach-burdened part of the body, falling down with a boing-boinging motion, adding all that weight on the pins! The smarting from under the feet! Sheer pain flowed back up to the brain. Again! Argh-gaggle-strain!  

The decision was made, with some degree of determination for me, that care must be taken, whatever happens, that may distract me, not to have any toe stubbings today. I’m not sure I could cope easily with another one at the moment.

The now hemerine need (for the last four days, anyway), for a wee-wee and the Porcelain Throne arrived together, and suddenly. So, I grabbed the four-pronged walking stick and tentatively made my way to the wet room. No rush this time, despite the sensation I could feel that Trotsky Terence was brewing things up.

Oh, dearie me! An unbelievable evacuation. Despite things being so sloppy-joe and messy, things were over swiftly, and I found myself sitting there, waiting for more movement, as in the last two mornings, but no! It had all cleared in a flash, a painful flash mind. Which was perhaps the messiest release in months. The cleaning up afterwards took yonks! And although both Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inchies fungal lesion had both bled. Silver-Lining-search results: It was only a minute, a nanoscopic amount, from both front and rear departments. Rare-Smug-Mode-Engaged!

I had a medicationalisationing session. Olive-oiled the era-holes. Phorpain-gelled the Arthur Itis knees, the shoulders I could reach to, knees and wrist, Saccades Eye-Drops in. Then tried to apply some pain-gel to the feet, using the picker-upperer, with ointment on a kitchen towel.

But this was a total painful failure. As Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters chose to fail at just the wrong time! Farcical! I ended up with gel wasted, all over various unintended parts of my torso, the carpet, WC, and the floor. I was displeased at my efforts to gel the feet. It took me, Gawd knows how long to clean everything up afterwards. Which, with all the bending, getting down and back up again, starting Arthur Itis, Shuddering Shoulder Shirly and Anne Gyna going!

I pressed on though and got the place looking betterer. As I departed to go to the kitchen for some medications and pain killers, Dizzy Dennis had a go at me! Silver-Lining-search results: Erm, er… The fungal lesion had not started bleeding again, Saccades Sandra had slowed down, and Back-Pain-Brenda had not kicked off with all the bending.

By the time I’d taken the meds, and got the kettle on, it felt like I’d been up for hours? The morning was now light. I took two photographs of the beautiful view. The sky with wonderful clouds. In fact, I did a bit of nephelococcygia searching, but without any success.

Then to the blind shot down below, of Chestnut Walk. It’s difficult taking photographs nowadays. Apart from the Peripheral Neuropathy and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, that is. With the new thick-framed, light and view-blocking windows, and the new design. That makes it impossible for me to see what I’m photographing below. The only thing I can do is to fetch the step ladders and dangerously risk my life and limb climbing up to see out. Not today, though. I’m not feeling steady enough to risk it. Worra life!

My few pleasures like photographing, are stymied now that the balcony door lock is stuck and will not open, to give me safe access. Also, my little toolbox is out there in my three-wheeler trolly, so they are unreachable too! Gawd, worra life! I’m gerrin’ down again! Come on Inchy, pull yerself together!

I got through to the computer in Junk-Room-Mark 11, with a degree of determination to get on with updating of the Monday blog (Better late than never!) Guess what?

Yes, the ydid it again, just like yesterday! I imagine that with the lock-down and so many people working from home. With all the quomodocunquizing companies like FB and Zoom advertising their Conferencing platforms on TV. I suppose the the weakest signalled Internet, Liberty-Global Internet Media, is bound to struggle. Prittleworthycrap!

When the signal returned, I got on with most haste, doing a new template, then updating the Mopnday blog. All finished, I emailed the links. Pinterested a few shots, then went on the WordPress Reader. Made a mug of tea, and onto Facebooking, for many hours. Did some comments, then started this post going.

The Amazon delivery is due today. The wind-up torch, to replace the one I lost. I know, I know, schlemiel!

Then I went on CorelDraw, to make up some advance graphics for the this blog. Got a few done, but Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Unbalanced Herbert both kicked off. 

Poledancing Champion, Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Warden Deana phoned top do a check see I was alright, I mentioned the Balcony door lock, and she kindly said she’d be up shortly to have a look at it. I thanked her and the ngot some trousers on, well, I thought I ought to. Hahaha!

Shortly she arrived and came in to see us, and had a look at the door. And three minutes later, it was opened. (Didn’t-half make me feel a Shmendrick!) But it is broken, she said. We’ll ask for maintenance after the lock-down has finished. (About 2025 we think!) I mentioned.

On her way out, a parcel and letter arrived. The letter I opened straight away in case it needed telephone response. The print was to small for me to read, so Dean read it. T’was the Dentist cancelling Wednesday’s appointment.Which was a good thing, (apart from the toothache, like), cause I am still in lock-down by the hospital and Doctor, for ten more weeks, yet. Tsk!  I thanked Deana and she shot offski.

The parcel, was the wind-up torch, from Amazon.

I tried out the door on the balcony and left it open, I’m not risking locking it ever again.

I went out and took some photographs of the aftrernoon scene. Plenty of folks about for once.

Top of the hill, near the park

I checked on the mushrooms cooking in the crock-pot, the need a little longer yet. I had a check on the latest Coronavius figures from the internet. For some reason, as I did so, hunger grabbed me.

It’s still not perfect is it? Still, a slow down I think?

I decided to get the nosh prepped and served up. But needed a visit to the wet room first, for a wee-wee. They have slowed down today.

Well, I might have known or guessed. II had another Dizzy Dennis visit en route, lost the balance a smidge, enough to give my head a klunk on the door frame edge. I did swear!

The wee-wee was still of the forcefull, ‘not wanting to end’ variety. But with a colour change, almost grey now? Not as pretty as the deep orange!’

I went to the kitchen to get the meal done. The Taste-Rating was 7/10.

Got the pots washed, and settled into the recliner, and Dizzy Dennis returned with a vengeance.

Fracture recollections from here on in. But I woke up at 01:00hrs, and feeling perky, too?

Inchcock – Mon 18 May 2020: A Flubrobbledigating Day, Many misdiagnoses, muddles of the mind, misapprehensions and a medley of mistakes. Mmm? Hey-ho!

Monday 18th May 2020

Filipino: Lunes Ika-18 ng Mayo 2020

03:00hrs: I stirred into semi-life, with a lightness not felt for a long time.

Which died off, as soon as I moved the legs (Arthur Itis), got to stand up (the crippling pains from the uncut toes and feet), and the instant I made a move towards the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), Anne Gyna joined in with the other, ‘Let’s Have a bash at Inchcock’ ailments. Even stood still, the feet and toes hurt, and Anne Gyna was steadily giving me more increasingly bothersome stabbing pains. Not a good start to the day!

But it got worse, so not to worry. Which turned out to be a totally different model to all of yesterdays leaks. It was a niggly  WSSULL (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Long-Lasting) style. Which kept me stood at the bucket, for far too long for the feet and toes, which started to give me even more discomfort. Humph! Silver Lining Search Results: Duodenal Donald was nice and calm. I could not see any bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion during the wee-wee.

I limped to the wet room, taking the bucket with me for emptying and sanitising. No sooner in the room, and the Porcelain Throne requirements arose. I took a photo of the poor-legs and feet. Still showing great etiolation, and pallidity. I felt as if they should be aflame, smoking! Such was the physical anguish they were giving me. Maybe when I’ve taken the painkillers with the mug of tea, things will calm down a bit. I hope!

And what a change in the evacuation department this morningtide!  There appears to be a battle going on for control, between Constipation Konrad (Easily the winner over the last few days), and Trotsky Terence, who is launching a counter-attack with this one! Quick, not so painful, but, oh how messy and pongy! Also needing much more cleansing and cleaning was required after the affair was completed.

I got the sorting-out done, then sterilised the EOGPB. Washed and next, got myself (oh it was a struggle) to the kitchen. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off, but Anne Gyna steadied a lot. Swings & Roundabouts, you know!

Took the medications, and made a brew. Then to the computer, where much work awaited me. With the Morrison order coming twixt six>seven o’clock, I worked as fast as I could manage, to give myself time to get the Ablutions done, before the arrival of the fodder.

I got an email from Morrison’s arrive. They have made some substitutions. Instead of Sweet potato battered fritters (one of my favourites), they sent McCain shake, shake sea and salt fries? Which will be no good for me, The freezer will accept no more frozen food. Also, I was well pleased to see when I put the order in, that they had some orange concentrated liquid wash in stock, and ordered one. It wasn’t really needed, but the chance to get my favourite orange-scented one was too good to miss for me. Well, I missed it! They sent Lychee & Passionfruit as a substitute. Eurgh! Gits! The worst thing for me was the frozen McCain substituted, which wasn’t even battered, or sweet potato that I had ordered! Gits!

I tended to the ablutions with a bit of haste. A stand-up job, no time to get a shower now. The pins were still playing up. I’m not sure if it was the lighting in the wet room, or the legs had regained some colour, but my guess would be the lighting. A few dropsied, but no toe stubbing this time around. All sorted, freshened up, olive-oiled the ear-holes, Germolided and Germolened things in need, Saccades Sandra drops in the yes, Phorpain gelled Arthur Itis’s knees, clothes on and back to the computer.

I got the Sunday blog updated and sent off. Then went on Pinterest, WordPress Reader and TFZer Facebooking. During which, the landline burst into sound and flashed. It was the Morrison driver.

The intercom would not work for him. Hello, that’s Iceland on Saturday, and now Morrisons? No one has said they have had any problems… mind you, I haven’t seen anyone have I, apart from Josie, and she does not have food delivered.

I had to get up on my poor pins, to go down to let him in. We came back up with two of us in the left! A dodgy risk that!

Worra day I’m having! We got to the flat, and as he was dropping the stuff in the foyer of the apartment, I mentioned about the fritters substitute. He searched the bags and told me they were not frozen ones. Like dim-pathetic-clot, I said that they would be alright then. Humph! Not the product ordered, not sweet potato, not battered, and they need the seasoning shaking in, before cooking; and I agree to take them!

As gullible idiots go, I reckon I am the cream of the crop! I forgot all about the Lychee & Passionfruit scented cleaner crap! I even gave thanked the driver with a can of G&T. But, the substitutes, and intercom not working, was not his fault, so I hope he enjoys it.

The substituted fries looked a little complicated to cook.

I got the delivery into the kitchen a bag or two at a time, and slowly stored away. I’d forgotten I’d ordered the hot dog roll, but did manage to cram the bread thins into the freezer. It took me a good while.

I spread the cleaning stuff about, some in the wet room. Others in the junk-room 2, and others under the sink in the kitchen.

I opted, in my mind anyway, to have the hot dog sausages with the rolls, and try these crap looking McCains, what a name? Shake-shake Fries, sea salt & cracked black pepper, things with the links later for lunch. With some tomatoes, maybe. We’ll see.

As I was clearing away the mess, I realised just how tatty the kitchen floor looked. I thought it had to be cleaned now! So, I did. But first, I was so impressed again with the view, I took a snap or two of it.

Perhaps subconsciously, to delay the pain of doping the mopping, that I knew was coming? Tsk!

A few months ago, and this task would not have been considered a problem in the least. But now, it was a mammoth undertaking for this overweight, short, plump, pain bearing, lack of confidence-ridden, depressed, fed-up, bald, bespectacled, lonely, confused, memory-challenged, zeyde!

It had to be said! Hehe! By the time it was done, I felt tired, done-in, the ailments were giving me some hassle, and yet, I felt a bit of pride and self-satisfaction, well almost, in getting it done. Smug-Mode-Adopted through the pain! Hehehe!

I took some extra Codeine 30g and got on with creating this blog. The poor chimes rang out, and it was ages before I struggled to get to the door, the feet were terrible now, and all the bending doing the mopping up. Back Pain Brenda had joined in with the ailments attack. Hahaha!

This was not good, Saccades Sandra was so bad now, I had to give up on the computing altogether. Shirley kept on with the occasional shudderings, and Dizzy Dennis visited. My concentration has gone now. Bitterly disappointing, I wanted to get some more graphics done in advance. The mopping up I expect has caused the problems. But not necessarily, things are bad at this moment.

I’m going to try and get some nosh, really struggling to see for typing. I may be back later. Who knows? Tsk!

Got the fodder prepped and served up.Hot dogs with tomatoes, onions, gherkins, the odd, weird fries, a lemon mousse, and two apple pies, and a mug of orange juice. Flavour Rating 6/10, those substituted by Morrison’s fries were not very good. But everything else was!

Got the pots washed, took the evening meds, creams, potions and lotions applied to various locations on the grossly-over-stomached, spindly-legged body, and got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, inoperable, rusty, rickety, recliner. No longer working, after Zyrophobia suffering, supercilious Brother-in-law Pete, broke it when flat-searching, finding and taking my valuables, while I was the hospital after the stroke.

Dizzy Dennis joined me as I was making my mind up, whether to fall asleep trying to the Clint Eastwood in ‘The Dead Pool’ or ‘The Equaliser’ with Denzel Washington, two of my favourite movies, both showing at the same time – Humph! Not that it really mattered, there wasn’t a cat-in-hells chance my staying awake that late into the morning! Humph, again!

But I kept nodding off, swapping between the films, drifting off every time the adverts came on, waking up, nodding-off… What a pillock!

TTFNski, folks.

Nottingham’s Pensioner, with one or two ailments, and a mind and memory, he has little control of nowadays. Ah, well!

Inchcock Today – Wed 13 May 2020: A bêtise bothering day

Wednesday 13th May 2020

Mongolian: 2020 оны 5-р сарын 13, Лхагва гараг

03:40hrs: I awoke, the expergefactor, not surprisingly, was wanting a wee-wee, and willingly risked life and limb, in a desperate dash, come hobble to get to the well-used-overnight, slightly ponging GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket). I made it with seconds to spare. Out-shot the HPLBSS (Hosepipe-Like-Blasting-Suddenly-Stopping) release! The only difference to yesterdays repeated visits was a change in colour. The strong orange tinge had become a saffron yellow one now. But, still no pain with it, so I wasn’t complaining, considering how viciously it blasted out!

As the brain joined me, and my balance was ensured, I took the GPEB with me to get it washed and antisepticised, and I limped with it, getting it tangled with the four-pronged walking stick and my left leg at one time, (Quiet funny, even at the time), en route to the wet room. No injuries or toppling over was involved. Smug Expression Adopted!

The Porcelain Throne was needed suddenly. A bit of a disappointing session, pain-wise I’m afraid. Back to the ‘Starting of its own accord, and sticking half-way, me doing the crossword book to take my mind off of the utter-agony, while I waited for the activity to start again’. Then, when it did start, a long time later, it was all over within seconds. The relief was blissful! Only a little bleeding as well, I expected a flood of blood, but it fooled me. Haha!

I took the few paces to the sink, and boy were the toes giving some gip! But, as I was washing and cleansing the bucket, Duodenal Donald started stabbing at me, and just didn’t give me any respite for ages. On the bright side, there’s always a bright side, if you can find it; this took my mind off of the toes and feet hurtings a bit. Like Monty Python’s genius, Eric Idle wrote, ♫ “Always look on the bright side of life. ♫

Oddly, I was in decent spirits as I made my way, trying to walk on my heels to ease the pressure on the feet and toes. Yesterday’s volunteer lady fetching me the prescriptions, Jenny helping to ease the medication getting, and the Doctor calling me, were all appreciated, and fresh in my mind, I think.

I was feeling perky (even if in pain, Haha!), and ready and up for anything at the time and decided to get the long-sleeved shirt I wore yesterday hand-washed in the kitchen sink. I didn’t take me long, it was only a thin old one, and rinsed out quickly enough.

Another sprinkling of a Smug Mode was adopted!

I got the kettle on, and made up and drank a sachet Macrogol drink, and took a Senna, along with the morning doses.

Medicationalised things in need, olive oiled the ear-holes, Saccades Sandra sprayed the eyes, Phorpain gelled the knees. Little Inchies horrendously brutal treatment can wait until I do the ablutions (Coward!) The thermometer showed up as just ‘Low’.

The sphygmomanometer, indicated on my first try, with; E. O. Now, that might have meant ‘Expired’ ‘Overdue? So, to be on the safe side, I retook the test. Hehehe!

All looked okay to me.

I got the mushrooms in the crock-pot, on the low setting. Added sea salt and some black pepper to them. I then moved yesterdays bits of hand-washing onto the airers.

I was in a mildly industrious mood, for me, anyway. I made a start on the updating on WordPress. But it didn’t last long. Back to the wet room for a wee-wee. I daren’t use the GPEB during the day, cause anyone could come in, and, the sight and smell of it would be enough to scare anyone!

I have been told by the hospital and Doctor, never to lock my door, in case of heart attack or another stroke, responders can get to me if I press the alert-alarm button. Wildly Cheering, knowing they expect me to croak-out, shortly! Haha!

Back to the computer, and got the updating of the Tuesday post all done. Emailed the links. Went on the WordPress reader section. Put some bits on Pinterest. Then spent an inordinately naughty time on Facebooking, adding to the photo albums, TFZing and went on the Winwood Heights page for a while.

But instead of pressing on with this blog, I decided to get the ablutions sorted out. I got the self-inflicting torture items needed for the cleaning and medicating of Little Inchies fungal lesion to the room in readiness. Got the long-sleeved shirt and jacket to wear afterwards (no socks of course, too painful), and got out some new razors to use. This all sounds so uncommon for me, but while the brain works, use it, I say! Worrying all the same! 

I’d got as far having a wee-wee again, doing the teeth, and was just picking up the toothbrush for the second time from the floor, and the Dusty Springfield tune ♫ I only want be with you ♫ chimed from the doorbells. I whipped the thin dressing gown on, in the name of decency, and went to investigate! No persons about, but they had delivered another box of freebie food! I really didn’t know how I felt about this. I cancelled then a week last Monday, via the internet. I followed the cancellation instruction to the letter. And was very careful and diligent about it. One the one hand, I appreciate all the work done by the volunteers to help out. But I really didn’t need or want any more handouts.

Now that Iceland has made me a priority case, it is much easier to get through for an order to be placed. This is why I cancelled the weekly box. There are many things I just do not like or eat in them anyway. Which is wasteful, and always something that has been removed from my eating by the hospital team. I could try the cancelling routine again, but may end up with me having two orders sent, cause the procedure given for cancelling, is to reregister again, ticking Yes to one of the questions. Can you get a supply of foods? Which I did. Grumbleconfusement!

Back to the ablutions, agitated, irritated, baffled and feeling a little guilty, my concentration was not what it should have been. I stubbed the foot against the sink pedestal! Brigglesnastyness and agony erupted! I regret to say, I also gave out naughty verbalisation, Tsk!

I got the shaving completed, with a mere two minuscule cuts. I decided the food box had to be sorted, so I did not have a shower, I just took a stand-up wash. Got myself sprayed with various body maskers, applied aftershave to stop the shaving cuts (Ooh, ooh, ooh!). Phorpained Arthur Itis’s knees, and got dressed. Off to the kitchen and had a few swigs of the feeble, weak Peptac medicine, in vain hopes of reducing Duodenal Donalds stabbing pains.

As I put on the jacket, I’d not worn it for months, I smelt its aroma, cor, it was mucky and a bit smelly.

So plans changed, and I got it off and hand-washed. Not an easy job, with it being so thick.  It took me a long time, and many changes of water, and much disinfectant and fabric conditioner, and effort were used as well.

Eventually, I got it hanging alongside the long sleeve shirt I washed earlier. This will need many trips to the sink to wring out the heavy shirt as the water moves downwards.

I had another swig or two of the pathetic, pitiful, pointless, purposeless, Peptac antacid medicine. I was about to put the kettle on and remembered the food box was still outside the front door! Oofta! What a draycup!

It was too heavy for me to pick-up, so I opened it and tool a few things through to the kitchen at a time. The kitchen than was already filled with freebie stuff that I didn’t like, or I was barred from eating. In today’s, there was coffee, pineapple, biscuits that are not allowed for me. And some great potatoes, apples, individual shower gel, a mini toilet roll and round if soap, a gigantic tin of baked beans, more pasta, more rice, tomato soups, frozen bread etc.

Had I been struggling to get food delivered, they would have been life-savers. The kitchen is so full, I’ve had store some things in the junk room. And, Deana told Josie that we are not allowed to give anything other tenants from the Government parcel. It’s getting farcical now. I’d asked someone to check me while I do my third reapplication for a food parcel to be cancelled, to make sure I get it right, and it gets cancelled. But, I am confident I did it as instructed to cancel the parcel. Oh, dear! Of course, no one can come in to check me anyway!

I’ve gone from feeling perky to pee’d-off. And Duodenal Donald is not easing off yet. The feet and toes are worse than ever. Knockersworthyness! Dejected

I got some of the potatoes in the big slow-cooker and added the mushrooms to them.No idea what I aim to have, but it must go with mushrooms and boiled spuds, Hahaha!

Then got the black bags, glass bin, and recycling stuff loaded on the trolley-guide.

Got the black bags to the waste chute and put down. (Oh, the feet and toes!) I’m getting near to the darkness now again, emotionally.

Down to the bins, met with Roy waiting to get on the elevator as I got off.

A quick bit of joking, and out to the bins with the glass and white bag.

Back up to the flat, and had another go at unlocking and opening the balcony door. Needless to say, but I failed again. If I was not sinking so low in outlook, I would have laughed at my attempted reverse-burglary. Hehehe! 

Off for another wee-wee, this one was turning back to orange coloured? Mmm?

I noticed as I passed, the Nottingham City Homes supplied monitor, the Humidity was a bit low. Maybe not being able to open the door might be the reason? Or, not!

I got this post updated, and it was getting late for me now, head time down approached. So I got the meal sorted out in the overfilled, messy, uneatable food-filled kitchen.

I got the nosh prepared and served up, it didn’t look too bad, left the pots soaking in the sink.

Well, things turned a little disappointing by the time I got around to settling down to gobble the tiffin, that had almost gone cold by then.

I thought I’d watch some TV (As a form of deliverance from the Thought Storming, and aid, to succumbing to sleep). But, could I find the TV remote control again? Nope!

After checking the usual places, I got down on my knees with the torch. (That also took a while to find), discovered, stuck down the cushion on the recliner.

I ended up on my knees, much to the displeasure of Arthur Itis, and after searching around on all-fours, the torch picked out something twinkling in the beam, underneath the recliner. Aha! I grabbed the picker-upper and investigated: retrieving not only the remote control but two pens, a scribbled note (reminding me of the After Stroke Physio last August), several tablets, Warfarin, Bisoprolol Fumarate, Pentoxifylline etc., and tiny broken screwdriver?

Getting back up on my damaged, ankle-ulcered, agonisingly painful, uncut toenailed feet, was the most farcical fiasco of the day! I found myself on my knees, facing the recliner, grabbing both chair-arms, and struggling uncomfortably to get back up on my pins… Half-way up, Shuddering-Shoulder Shirley attacked (Lucky or what, the first time she plays up all afternoon, and she has to time the shaking at just very moment to cause most pain!) and I fell back down again. The contact made between my left knee and the floor, thud, brought forth some terrible silently muttered curses and oaths! The torture from the toenails was hardly bearable.

I did get up eventually, using a well-versed system of; Ensure that the four-pronged walking stick is within reach. Nearly up, find the nearest firm article to roll over to get to the momentum to force my avoirdupois stomach and torso, up, and grabbing the stick in hopes of not going back down to where I came from, in this case, the floor.

Naturally, the nosh was not very warm at all by the time I got around to thinking of eating it. I tried a bit of each item on the plate. Sickening! I did eat some of the cheesy potato mash, not much of it, but still maybe too much. The lemon mousse had gone to liquid. The low-cal bar and Yo-yo were consumed. The pain of getting back up and to the kitchen to finish the washing up was bearable; but annoying.

I dished the fodder and got the cleaning up done. The thick shirt was as to be expected, still dripping, I rang it out a bit more, but it was still too wet to safely move to an airer yet.

I got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, rickety, not working, recliner, with a pot of cashews and a bottle of made up spring water and orange cordial. Got the TV on (Humph!), but the mind was racing after the calamity, and things hurt or ached that I didn’t even know I had! Hehehe!

I think I would be accepted in the ‘Sleepless Elite Genetic Mutation’ group? For getting to kip, took me several hours, and it was well gone 01:00hrs by then. The TV did not send me off, I even watched through the commercial breaks! My hypnagogia was filled with Thought Storming.

The worst thing, early on in the night, was Colin Cramps visiting me, and giving me an unusually large share of his wrath.

I took these photos of Colin’s efforts.

I remember thinking as I looked at the clock hours later, ‘Blimey, 01:00hrs! I’d been trying to get off into the blissfulness of sleep for about seven hours or so. Normally, I can get off anything between 15:00 to 17:00hrs, telephone calls, door chime, Pillow Shaker Fire Alarm false activations, Porcelain Throne and wee-wees, permitting.

And to think, there are people out there who are bored with the lock-down?

I wonder if there is a sophrological or apanthropinisation support group I could join?

At least Duodenal Donald has eased off. (Result of Silver-Ling search)

You’ve got to laugh.

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