Inchcock Today: Tuesday 2nd August 2022

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TUESDAY 2nd AUGUST 2022

07:20hrs: I burst back into the world of woes with the regulation jump, jerk and jabberwockies. Realising how late it was, I climbed out of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a tatty recliner, was on the way to unlocking the door for Carer Richard and I had to nip into the wet room.
The actual evacuation was even easier than the last three days or so. But messier, you can’t win them all.
It was the worry over the water flood in the room that spoilt my pleasure with the rare good Throne visit. The water does not seem to lessen at all overnight, and, I admit, it made me nervous to walk in the water to get to the sink for a stand-up wash and shave. I chickened out. Cowardy cowardly custard! I can remember a year or so ago when the drain stopped working, and my going in to get the ablutions done… Mostly I remember the walking stick slipping in the water and my falling and entangling myself with the sock glide. The cuts and bruises took ages to clear up.

Hopefully, the maintenance will arrive today to have a look at the shower problem. I hope so because I must be ponging a bit by now, going showerless for so long. I’ve just had a sniff… Yep!

Arrived, and I’d forgotten again to unlock the door for him. He was in a rush this morning, so very little nattering was allowed. A inquired about his getting some sleep, but he was down in the mouth as he told me of the 24-hour gas works outside where he lives still drilling away and partiers making a racket again. Gave him some lager, teacakes and a bottle of Inchcock’s Special Brew. (That be a litre of Schweppes tonic water, with some orange cordial added, and stored overnight in the fridge for him). I thought it might cheer him up a bit; I got the first smile off of him as he left, taking the waste bags with him to the chute for me. Poor lad.

I got out the checking gear for sphygmomanometerisationing and the temperature reading.

I thought it was an idea to open the balcony windows to let a bit of fresh air in while I did the HCs… having not had a shower, no signs of any NCH maintenance man arriving yet. The howling wind encouraged me to close the doors again.

The results were heartwarming, all good readings again, and I was back down into the amber zone! The third time in three weeks!

Back on the computer, Cleaner Esther came in to get the laundry things. And she did not tell me off about a single thing! Mind you, she has to come back with the washing yet, so we’ll see. Hehe! She doesn’t frighten me!

Is back at his hobby, making steam trains for charity. I’m not sure if he makes so much noise on purpose or not. Hope he doesn’t kick off late at night again.

The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang from the door chime. My heart gladdened and burst with joy at the thought of the Nottingham City Homes plumber arriving to sort the shower out for me… Humph! It was neighbour Josie returning the things from her Sunday-Monday meal delivery. It was nice to see her, but all I said was not heard nor answered; she had not got her hearing aids in. So I smiled effusively and often. I never did find out if she enjoyed the meals or not. Bless her!

A text message came through on my G6 Nokia Lumia 929 Icon mobile phone. Only joking!
I thought it might be from the NCH plumber (again, I am a fool), but no, it was EE trying to sell me some crap for when I go abroad to save money! Another flutter of hopefulness, utterly destroyed!

♫ Oh, Susana’s ♫ tune rang from the door chime. Aha! Is this the NCH plumber? Nope, it was Esther returning. She explained that she was going to South Africa for three weeks’ holiday but had someone who could cover for her. She phoned the lady, Carol, who came to check me out. Nice lady, an ex-carer, and agreed to do the washing for me after Esther had explained my problems. They left together. Now waiting for Esther to return, and she did. She’d spoken with Deana to see what day they may be coming. Deana has reported it. It’s just a case of waiting now… Fancy that!

With so little sleep, I am getting irritable with myself, I think. Not with others, just with me. Not much chance of catching up on the sleep, well, none! I’ve got to stay awake to have the slightest chance of hearing the intercom when they arrive. If I go into the wet room, I can’t hear it, so, no opportunity to address my filthy stinking body with a stand-up wash and shave… risky (tumbles, slips) anyway with water still on the wet room floor… I’m not a winner, am I?

I got creative when I went to make a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. Ailments have stopped me from taking landscape photographs long since. So I took two snaps of the view from the kitchen window, put them together and trimmed them with CorelDraw. This is the outcome: Rather semi-pleased with this.

After making the brew, it had gone a smidge dark, and I took this picture of the wonderful if dank clouds this afternoon.

Good for Esther to arrange cover for her holiday. Time to get something to eat, methinks. So I did!

I knew it would happen. I fell asleep. No idea if any plumbers arrived and could not get in cause I couldn’t hear the intercom. If I can wake up early enough in the morning, before the NCH plumbers arrive, I will have to risk having a shave and stand-up wash and be ready for the ‘Will they come today’ big wait-in. Again!

Sharon arrived to wake me up. Medications given. Cold drinkies from the fridge in appreciation chosen.

On with updating this blog. Then on the WP Reader, answered a mass of comments came in on this blog. Got them both replied to.

The landline rang; it was Nathaniel from the Diabetes Defence Team. It was hard to hear everything he said, but I think I got the gist of the call. He told me to attend the next session on Friday 12th August.  He would stay behind afterwards and talk me through the missed first session. Being aware of Dementia Doreen, I asked him to please rng Warden Deana to inform her, so she can arrange transport – explaining that I feared I may forget to ask her. He said he would, and I thanked him profusely.
Getting back may be dodgy, might need a bus or tram, then two more buses, to get back to the flats. Being a Friday evening, there will be no Wardens or Carer boss available if there are any problems encountered. I am a worry-guts!

I did it again. Drifted of to sleep, and I was woken by Carer Sarah. Who got the medications sorted, and I forced a treat from the fridge on the gal in thanks. ♥ I checked the texts on the super new G6 Nokia phone to see if any messages had come in from Nottingham City Homes about the shoer repair attendance. Nothing on it, so I hope I’ve not missed them. Sarah said they do not call on non-emergencies after 17:00hrs.

Which got me thinking. I could get a stand-up shave and wash when Sarah has gone. I can lock the front door and dive into the wet room, and if I take extra care throughout, can I still get the ablutions done? After dithering a while, I gave myself the go-ahead.
Worra, good session! I carefully blocked off the flood water with a mop bucket, and I pulled the shower curtain over the other area. Then if I wandered into the danger area without thinking, the noise of either obstacle should alert me to the danger – it worked a treat! Fair enough, it did cause a , but it saved me having a tumble. I was proud of myself for once. No bleeding teeth, not a single nick shaving! Yes! And, just a few small flecks of blood from Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inches fungal lesion had not been bleeding at all – plenty of stinging, of course, when I medicated the little unused other than for wee-weeing thing. Hehehe!

I came out of the wet room, a cleaner, sweeter-smelling Inchie. (Aftershave, deodorant, and the smell of Germoloid and Germolene creams helped. Hehe!) And had o go back in for a rear-end evacuation. Always something, whenever I begin to feel smug! It was a delayed action, a sudden swift and spurting movement, and so messy as things got sprayed to amazing distances. Cleaning it up also needed care to avoid slipping on the standing water. Still, I got it all sorted. Grade Two .

I sky when I got into the kitchen, was looking fantasic. I’ll put the earlier shots I’d taken here, with the latest one last. I’ll make the shots a little larger, so they can be appreciated. What a change!

A feast for the eyes. When I get cataracts done, I can really
relish watching them again.

I carried in with updating and posted this blog off to WP.

Then made the Ode below.

Inchcock Today: Monday 1st August 2020

I’m sorry that I woke up!
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06:15hrs: I woke; I wouldn’t have bothered if I’d known what was coming to me…
I was partly forced out of the recliner, but the need for the Throne to be used. It went tremendously well, as it happens, but as I stood up to get the ablutions done, I realised there was water near the shower drain. I checked the power-point, and it was off. The showerhead was dripping water too? Flummoxed, I turned on the power, I turned on the shower, a little water dripped, an alarm sounded, and a red light flashed, so I turned everything off.
I’ll have to ring Deans at 09:00hrs and Meridian about the transport that didn’t come for the diabetes course on Friday.

Got the health checks done. SYS 142, DIA 56, Pulse 76, and the body temperature was 34°f.
The wee-wees were far too frequent for my liking, but there you are; Ageing and ailments, you know!
Put the figures into the NHS DVT check site and was pleased to see me barely in the red zone.

Richard arrived. With the kerfuffle of the shower Whoopsies, I’d forgotten to unlock the door. Tsk! The lad listened to my problems and filled in the booklet the Diabetes sent me with my details. He read something of the small printed advice note to me, but my hearing was not good, and he spoke a little quickly. Understandable, as he had another call to do, he did his best to set my mind at ease… but nothing less than getting the diabetes mess and shower repaired would ease my mind. On his way out, a lovely lad, Richard, took the waste bag to the chute.

I started this blog template, and soon it was gone 09:00hrs, and I could call Deana and Meridian for help. I rang Deana; first, the call was diverted. Then called Meridian, who was also redirected to their head office. I didn’t want them involved, so I rang off.

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana and tried to ring Natalie again. I did feel a fool – I’d intended to ring Natalie and was chattering away and realised I’d rang Deana! to blame. She resisted laughing and kindly said she would ‘pop in’ later to take a look at the shower. Has a lot to answer for, of course; in my younger days, she was referred to as ‘Going-Potty’, ‘Losing-it’, or Blind Bonkers. Hehehe!

The wee-wees were getting more often, and Little Inches Lesion is getting sore at all the handling he’s having – Please don’t start Bleeding, mate!” I think it could be worse, though. How? At least there is only a tiny bit of, very little .

Another bonus is that the fluid retention in the right leg and foot seems to be lessening this morning. Hobbling about is a lot easier than it was yesterday. Got a bit of colour in the plates as well? Good, or not?
Hello, he’s off again. Thuds, clangs, boings, and the usual tap-tapping concerto from the noise maestro above.

I went into the wet room to see if the floods had decreased. They had, but not by much. The water does not appear clearly in the photographs I took on the left. I must remember to ask the expert in photography if my little Canon camera has any settings I can try when picturing a wet view to see the water more. I must remember.
I took this one earlier when I tried putting the power on, then when the alarms and lights lit, I hastily shut it off. Better safe than sorry.
The amount of water on the floor seemed the same as earlier. I’m not sure the drain works without the power on. Then again, there is so much in life that I’m not sure about nowadays. Mainly due to the stroke and  .

Getting on a bit now; midday coming up. If Deana doesn’t arrive soon to phone for help with the shower, I may have to go without it until tomorrow. The shower is brilliant for cleaning the three daily areas that need doing before medicating. The Little Inches Fungal Lesion, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids.

I made another brew, Glengettie, this time. I espied these two dogs having a sniff around in the bottom field. Their tails did a lot of wagging, Hehe! I was well-pleased with this photo. I zoomed in from the 12th-floor kitchenette window.

Snapped this one of the horizons, seeing as far away as the M1 motorway, just out of view furthest away. Basford, Bulwell, City Hospital, Nottingham Prison, the Romanian slave building, and Sherwood. Within this view, there have been nine murders so far this year. There are flats available here if you’re interested, and over 60? Maybe not, though! The sky was almost cloudless but still beautiful. The clouds increased minutes later.
I tried again to contact Meridian Care (Care? Hehe!) Natalie. I got through and told her that the lift for the Dementia Meeting didn’t arrive. Reply: “Yes, I’ve been swamped and couldn’t get through to them!”  I inquired why I had not been informed. She did apologise, at least. But it’s putting me through a lot of anguish, not knowing! When I explained about my not getting help with phoning and reading, deafness, Dementia, and Cataract’s are making life complicated and busy for me. Natalie asked why the Carers were not helping during the extra hour on Fridays. I knew nothing about this. Again a lack of communication. I thought the charges had gone up steeply. Now I know why. If I want any phoning or reading done, I’m to leave it until Friday each week, with no one available on Saturdays and Sundays. And, the Carers can call at any time from 06:0hrs to 08:40hrs. So how can they phone anyone for me?

Good heavens, it’s bad enough being hard of hearing, having Cataracts, knackering my vision, panic attacks, and Doreen Dementia causing confusion and memory losses.

“How dare they say; “Don’t worry, we’re sorting it”. Naturally, I was so pleased and grateful to hear this. I did stop worrying! – then, not only do they not sort anything but put me in deeper poo with the Diabetic Session transport failure – And not advise me of their let-down? Now, I have got to beg Deana to help me out with the mess and the shower, and it’s gone 13:00hrs, and she has not got to me yet. So, I assume it will be too late to bring attention to the shower today and will have to wait another day at least… Or at best, get a late call which means my already deprived sleep will suffer even more by trying to stay awake; late! It’s not doing my health any good. I am not a happy chappy.

Deana departed, and she is a busy gal. Minutes later, I went to the Porcelain Throne and realised I had not mentioned the flood and shower not working to Deana! So I phoned her and told her. She said she’d call maintenance straight away. So if they do come today, it’s going to be late, and in case they do, I have to stay awake to hear the hardly audible intercom ring when they arrive. If they come tonight, or not, perhaps? I am not a happy chappy. Most likely, it will be in the morrow when they respond. What time is anyone’s guess? I shall remain showerless and stinky, then, I suppose. I am not a happy chappy.

Awaiting the arrival of Meridian’s Natalie, still. If she comes, as she told Deana, she would be doing. Will she be too busy, I think?

Well, I’m going to get some fodder sorted out. Not feeling too bright now, although after Deana’s attention, better than I did earlier. Just maybe some ♫ Food Glorious Food ♫ might help. Nothing fancy, tomatoes and veggie burger should do me. Back in a while… well…
Three wholemeal baps, chips, tomatoes with some ketchup dip, and a lemon mousse dessert.
I put the burgers in the oven, expecting them to be cooked by the time I’d spread the cobs, sliced the tomatoes, and got the plate ready on the tray. Then realised I’d turned the oven on, put the chips (fries) in, but forgot all about the vegan burgers! Idiot, fool, twit, dumbo!

So, ate most of it, scoring 7.2/10 for flavour. Put the food tray down and drifted off into a deep sleep. Until being woken up by ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ from the door chime two hours later. It was Sasha or Sarah… maybe Samantha, but call her Sam. Yes… Sam, I think. Soon got me sorted, slipped her a choice of treats, and did not go with her to lock the door. Why? Well, Deana had not let me know if the maintenance was coming today or tomorrow, or even at all, to mend the shower. So, I have to stay up in case they do call later on tonight.
Christ, he’s banging away upstairs again, at 22:25hrs, now! As inconsiderate scumballs go, he’s got to be one of the most effective! The  Turd!

In other words: Bad Luck Spreading

NOT A LOT OF PEOPLE KNOW THAT: They do now!

Droopy, eye-lidded, tired, and struggling to see, I pressed on with this blog and got it posted off to WordPress. Fighting heroically to stay awake just in case anyone arrives to sort the shower tonight. They didn’t.

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THOUGHTS ON THE LAST CRAP FOUR DAYS…


Could any Monday have gone any klutzier?
Mind you, Fri, Sat & Sunday were no cushier,
To get through these days of such mental torture…
I needed a stout heart, resilience and some tincture!
Let downs, failures, and cock-ups have been friskier!

I just want life to go easier and cushier,
The ears and eyes are worse… as is Doreen Dementia,
I don’t expect to get any healthier or fitter…
But why am I in a state of constant dysphoria?
I expect as I age to feel more poorlier…
Why have I contracted Arithmaphobia and phagomania?

I fear I may have also got habromania…
My brain and memory have both caught ecdemomania!
A Covid outbreak in the flat’s got folks in a fluster,
Anymore Whoopsiedangleplops, and I’ll go dafter,
I hope my insanity is only a temporary squatter.
On the bright side… there must summat for sure…
Ah, yes! I’m bald, so, no need to pay for a coiffeur?
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TTFNski!

Inchcocks Tuesday 1st June 2022 – With Ode

Inchies Ode to Failed Wishes

I wanted Mummy to love me for sure…
But crime had caused her departure…
Police caught her in a cottage on the river Nure,
But that was years later, not really a cure…

I wanted to become a competent swimmer…
But I soon discovered that I was scared of water,
I soon got Inchcock as a new nomenclature…
I fought to get into the footy team, the agony I did endure…
But I was useless; I even thought of becoming a friar!

Things were depressing and getting dire…
Then we had a nasty frying pan fire…
Left me scalded, but to the pain, I am no stranger,
The most used word to me was Shurrup! I was a chinwagger…
I once poked myself in the eye with a penny banger!

I try dancing, the Twist and the Conger…
Of course, I can’t do them any longer…
In those days, I was younger and stronger,
And, I was earning some serious wonga,
All of which I’ve spent and have no longer…

Nowadays, my life is a little austerer…
To socialisationing, I’ve become a sightseer,
My ailments often mean that I feel a bit queer…
So when someone relates to me, I hold it dear…
But folks generally keep away, don’t come near!

I became a Headway volunteer…
Tried to give the patients a little cheer
We’d share Monopoly, darts and the odd root beer…
I’ve never been any kind of profiteer…
Eventually, they said I was becoming battier…

Why? was it some form of solastalgia?
I found out it was due to Peripheral Neuralgia,
I was definitely getting a little crochetier…
And my body was getting heftier… fatter,
I decided that this didn’t matter…

With my self-hatred, I felt evermore guiltier…
My calling myself names got much nastier,
If I just accept things, maybe life may come easier…
I even went to speak with the local vicar…
He touched what he shouldn’t. I’m now a nonbeliever!

I still press on, getting wobblier and clumsier,
To avoid depression, I tried to keep myself busier,
Each day I get crappier, creepier, and dizzier…
Even the carers think that I’m getting barmier!
I admit I’m getting poorlier, older and bolshier!

There’s no denying that I’m getting more Clishmaclaver…
Numbers, figures calculation I can no longer figure,
I muse over my fear, praying there may be a cure…
Against the darkness of gloom, I cannot enure!

Even talking to myself, I’m getting more spitefuller…
I can’t reason things sometimes; that makes me mardier…
And my body is aching so, and getting lardier…
My wee-weeing is more frequent and dribblier,
My Haemorrhoids are bloodier and much itchier!

The short term memory is confused, vaguer, muddier…
And used to be such an excellent rememberer!
At this moment, I don’t know if it’s March or September?
Have I put the oven on yet? I’ll have a gander…
No, I’ve not; what else have I missed on my agenda?
Well, I left the hot tap on… frustration and anger!

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Diary Tuesday 1st June 2022

  After perhaps twenty jump-awakes, I gave up on the 21st or so and rose onto my feet for a wee-wee at 04:10hrs. Grumph!

The leak was free of Pre and After Micturitional Dribbling. Well, that was something! It sort of got me in an up mood.

I trotted off to the wet room to empty and sanitize the wee-wee bucket, and I got the Ablutions done while I was in there. There was only one tiny nick shaving and two dropsies, none of which caused any bother. A good session as well this time.

Got the Blood Pressure and Temperature sorted out. Despite the lousy night’s limited sleep and unending damned shooting awake, I was not in a bad mood, with a jump almost! They are getting worse each night?

SIA 136. DIA 71 and the Pulse were at 77bpm, I think. Cataracts etc., making it hard for me to see. The body temperature was still slightly low at 33.6°c, but not a lot below the 35.0°c target. It might be more explicit when blogging.

I nipped off to make a waste bag-up and got some potatoes in the saucepan to marinate in the fish sauce before boiling later on. I was on form today!

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea, and the early morning sky caught my good eye. The cloud looked like it would turn into an alien spaceship and burst into view. I must have got the idea from a film that I’d seen? I’ll remember it! Got some photo’s from the SD card onto the computer. And started to do the Ode Tuesday blog.

200 0 0 Porc I’d not gotten far with the odeing, and the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived from the innards. Trotsky Terence shared control; along with Constipation Konrad; I know it doesn’t make sense. But again, the movement took ages to get started and needed so much effort it was painful with it when it did begin, which wasn’t for a long time. I even got some answers in the crossword! But when things moved, they were cripplingly slow, and the final desperate push exited not rock hard as the first few but messy and gooey? What? I didn’t like that session at all!

Back to the odeing and got it finished at last. Getting ready to review the blog before posting, and ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ Chimed out. As soon as I heard it, I remembered I’d not yet unlocked the door. So, I did!

The look on Carer Richard’s face was with a place in the Tate Gallery! Worth a thousand words. Amongst them would be, “You pillock, you’ve forgotten again to unlock the door!” Hehe!

I was busy on the blogging, but due to a three-hour circumlocution of great vagueness, I can only use the scribbled notes to guess what took place. Here they are as best I can decipher them: Ode… rushing, emailed, Facebooking, WP Comments, WP Reader… Ode for today… Conrad Confusion, mind-blanks… rampant wee-wees…

I checked on the spuds to find that I’d not turned on the heat. Plonker! 

Herbert was not so bad today, not as loud. But still persistent throughout.

Took Strawberries unwanted by Richard to Josie. Got the nosh sorted out. Beer battered chips were great, and new potatoes with BBQ sauce and a ketchup dip pot. Sourdough bread, veg sausages, and tomatoes. Baby banana to follow. 8.2/10.

Still vague-minded, no idea who came… yes, I have; it might have been Cheeky-Charley… Yes, I think it was. Bless her.

Grrreat! I nodded off within ten minutes and stayed that way for three solid hours! Then the jumping-awake started again… Grumph!

Inchcock: Diary & Ode Sun 29th May 2022

SUNDAY ODE

Advice For Whippersnappers – Part 2⅑th

Do no harm, don’t be lethiferous…
Try to avoid being fatuitous…
Resist acting violent, gratuitous,
If you have a win, it will be deciduous,
Good and bad things can be fortuitous…
You’ll seem at times fatuitous, bodacious,
When in the pub… you’ll appear streperous,
But at work, try to appear assiduous…
To try to cover for your hebetudinous,
Avoid drugs that make you feel somniferous,
Have a drink by all means, but don’t get stocious…
I used to do that, but in the morning, I felt atrocious!
Keep taking Covid-test; you can still be viruliferous!
That way, you can avoid capriciousness…
When you get arrested, do not show facetiousness!
And always remember life’s ephemeralness!

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

SUNDAY 29th MAY 2022

04:45hrs: Notwithstanding only getting three hours kip, I woke up with the usual jolt but feeling a lot perkier than usual. I went all industrial: Wee-wee, then dressed, and I did the medicationalisationing.

The thigh veins looked so very much improved, and I moved on to washing the tootsies, which were also looking much improved, in the bowl on the floor. Neither of them found their way onto the SDH card? That’s a good start, I muttered to missen! Through to the kitchen to make a Glengettie brew and took a couple of snaps of the red sky this morning.

Soon got the computer on to update yesterday’s blog. But of course, the $23 million a year salaried Mr Fries, boss of Liberty-Global, who bought out Virgin Media for $18 billion, still can’t get a signal to Nottingham that even pretends to be reliable.

So, very annoying!

So, I gave up and went to try to take more photographs of the view from the kitchen window. Hopefully, they will be a success this time. Especially as the sky had reddened more now. I must say they looked almost like a couple of water paintings. Bootiful! And they went on the SDH card this time.

I spent a few moments perusing for figures in the clouds, pareidoliaing. I think there was a face in the lower of the photographs? But I could be wrong… I’m very often wrong, you know. It’s a natural gift I have. Glaucoma Gladys, SAccdes Sandra and Cataract Kathie don’t help.

Back onto the internet. I must send Fries a congratulatory email to get a signal through.

WordPress had the same problem as it started yesterday. I cannot access the comments when I’m on editing, My Home or reading? If I click on the question mark, which is not always there, as you see in this snap of the computer screen, I can sometimes get the list up? Fed up with this!

Started to update yesterday’s blog and altered the ode in it, which, on reflection, was not a good idea. I got carried away on Word Hippo to get some new rhymings that were suitable… three hours later… ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chirped from the doorbell. Cheeky Charley came this morning to do me. Lovely chirpy lass, But the poor gal was not her usual self. Not offhand or anything like that, but seemed a little down; bless Her!

As I pressed on with the blog again, a rumbling from the innards had me hastening to the Porcelain Throne. A lot of painful effort was needed to complete the evacuation, and I had a go at the crossword book while waiting. I also spotted that the condition of the feet and lower legs had improved an awful lot this morning? Not complaining, like! Not as messy as yesterday.

The noise from above was barely noticeable. I hope that the disdainful, dismissive lad is not poorly or in pain.

I got around to drinking my first mug of tea of the day, and it was coming up to midday! I had made four mugs of tea, a Glengettie, Thompson’s Punjana, and now a Thompson’s Signature tea. I let go cold all the others – not on purpose, of course. I allowed myself half of my new daily ration of chocolate with the tea, two squares from a block of milk chocolate. Hehe!

I went through h to the kitchenette to wash the mug and found my feet sticking to the floor! I’d spilt some of the chilli-con-carne, I think, earlier when I was prepping Josie’s Sunday nosh. I bravely decided it needed a good sweep and mopping session…

I got the old spinning mop bucket out of the wet room, freshened the round disc mop, and cleaned the floor. On the heavy press pedal as I was spinning it for the first time! Not sure how I managed it, but it shot back up on me, and off came my foot?

Naturally, it didn’t affect me. A man of my heroic nature, cool, calm and concentrated. With a proclivity for remaining composed, unruffled, and in complete control of myself, at all times. I was totally unruffled… Well, erm, maybe…

I checked on Josie’s meal and moved some of the Chilli Con Carne into a plastic bowl so she’d have enough for a second nosh later on.

Then got on with the mopping of the kitchenette floor. I made sure it was well dried, in case I had to go back in urgently to check on the food cooking for any reason… Now that’s something I seem to be getting short of lately… sense! Hehehe!

Sent off the Saturday blog and made a start on this one. Then sorted Josie’s tray out for her.

Some nibbles and a can of G & T. I actually remembered that she gave me that look last week when I gave her a can of… Oh, what was it? Woo-Woo or Mojito, I think. I think I’ll go into a Smug-Mode again… There you are! Hahaha!

I delivered the meal on time again and got an approving look as she inspected the can of G & T. She said she was on the phone with a friend, so I didn’t keep her.

As I entered the flat, I noticed the three waste bags still there laying on the box. Not taken to the chute for me. But it gave me a bit of exercise. I made another one and popped them all into the chute. However…

Coming out of the room, I had a minuscule, short involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance. It only lasted a few seconds, but the timing was not good as I closed the door. Ah, well!

I turned the oven on and got some updating done on this blog. Took a break to make another mug of tea… I’m determined to get one drunk today! Took a distance and close up pictures of the beautiful looking sky.

The zoomed-n shot was not up to much, inferior quality. But taking it, I was sure I’d captured a figure of a face… but no! Tsk!

I had convoluted to get to look and the WordPress comments.

I’ll get my chips in the oven now; they should be hot enough. Sat and nodded for a few minutes, then got up and searched around for the missing magnifying glass, which had not been seen for months, and the mysterious hidden-away somewhere headphones. No luck with either!

Got my nosh sorted out and served up. The new Morrison’s beer-battered chips were not to my liking. A Flavour raring of 6/10 was the most I could give it. All else was okay. Whenceforth, I’ll try to get only the curry-flavoured ones. But they substitute such a lot. Hence the beer battered, which I did not order.

I was just about to nod off after eating what I did of the plateful, and the ♫ Oh, Susana… ♫, the Evening Carer arrived. Got the meds sorted and was off in a flash. Bless her! No waste bags; I took them myself earlier when the morning gal missed taking them.

Bill Ziegler, I like his style of writing and humour. I checked to see if any comments had come in and replied to them. Then Facebook catch-up… a lot had to be done.

Head down in search of sleep… and, importantly, staying asleep! Well, that was a failure…