Inchcockski – Sunday 2nd August 2020: A mixed bag of a day. Videlicet, up & down Sunday!

TFZ’s at the TFZers Cool-It-Hut!

Sunday 2nd August 2020 

Maori: Rātapu 2 Akuhata 2020

07:00hrs: I did wake up a few times earlier, but each time, there was no way I wanted to or could get up. I felt as if I’d only just got to sleep, when in fact, I been asleep for hours? I was so tired, still! With no demands for a wee-wee, making it easier for this old chap to nod-off again. Different, worrying, but a great experience! A little guilt perhaps, helped me to go into action mode.

I was up, and admiring my magnificently muscled, firm, fit, young, six-packed body, and caught my balance, within minutes. Ahem!

As I was reaching for the four-pronged walking stick, when the demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived, with some urgency again. I hobbled carefully, but as swiftly as I dare, to the wet room. (To avoid any accidents or innards-controlled unexpected escapages). Arriving well in time!

There was a surprisingly long wait for the motion to begin. Plenty of time for me to access the crossword book, and fail to get a single clue solved. Humph!

The innards controlled evacuation began with a sudden bit of a rush, which caused a moment or two’s worth of Argh’s and wincing of the facial muscles (Hehehe!). Then lasted longer and slower than any evac. in months. I was worn out by the time it had finished! The Silver-lining were, only minuscule bleeding, not a messy affair, and the after-aroma was not too biliously pungent!

However, I lost a lot of time due to the cistern’s failure to clear the contents away again. Jugs of water, in between several flushes, had to be made. It’s still not all gone, I’ll have to keep returning and give it a flush every now and then, and hope for the best. What a palava!

I got the kettle on and took a couple of photographs from the unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, unable to get at for the disabled tenants to clean windows. The first one, of below, the Woodthorpe Court car park on Chestnut Walk. Noticing the red sports car had returned. (That should please Kentuckian, Billumski!)

Then I thought I saw bats flying around. After various failed attempts to catch whatever they (2) were, I gave up altogether. Hehe!

Then, taking the medications and doing the Health Checks. The sphygmomanometer figures were healthier today.

Made the brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and to the computer, to make a start on this blog. I was about to start on it and remembered the WC flushing had to be checked on, so off to the wet room. One more flush, and it appears that the content had gone. But I know well, from the experiences of this mechanical-teaser, that it has a habit of regurgitating things, and when I go to utilise it again, I have to start the ‘Get-rid-of-it’ process again! So, I’ll recheck it again later on.

Finally, I got to start this blog off. And yet again, I had to hobble-off to the Porcelain Throne! A longer evacuation session this time. But I had some success with the crosswording, which was pleasing.

I had a wash, rinse, and teeth cleaning session while I was in there. And spotted just how bloodless the body was looking! Hogglesworthy!

As I was taking a photo through the balcony windows from the computer chair, I got a phone call from someone wanting to speak to Angie. I realised it must be for Angie and Roy from the top floor. Asked if she wanted me to take a message for them. The lady didn’t, apologised, and rang off.

I snapped the morning clouds in the sky (which I suppose is normal. Haha!).

Time to get Josie’s meal prepped. It was a bit of the struggle this Sunday, as Dizzy Dennis and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley were both visiting me regularly. I pressed on, a slightly more complicated ‘Cheffing’ session, as well.

Skipjack Tuna flakes in brine, mixed with mayonnaise. Egg mayonnaise, gherkins, beetroot chunks with onion and balsamic vinegar, garden peas, tomatoes, surimi sticks, a bar of chocolate, an apple, and a limoncello dessert for her. Oh, and a can of pink gin & tonic. The fiddly prep work and the dropsies were trying. Yet, somehow or other, I got ita;; ready without a single bruising, cut, or any injuries! First-Class-mug Mode Engaged!

I wheeled it to her door, and we had a little chat, she gave me a packet of shortcake biscuits and again handed me the carrier back from last week. Carrier, Hah!, I must have at least 20 of them in the flat now, and she gives me one back! Hahaha! Anyway, she looked and sounded in fine fetal.

Well, I was up for working then, as Shirley and Dizzy Dennis eased off suddenly.

So I decided to sort out the waste bags, Which was a bigger job than I thought it would be. In the hallway, I ended-up stacking seven bags onto the three-wheeler-walking-trolley, a bit of a balancing act. But with me finding the unexpected smidge of confidence and a willingness to graft, there was no stopping me (Yet!) and I began to push the trolley out through the doorway.

I stopped myself when I realised I had not taken the bag for Jenny. Too heavy to add to the trolley, but it seemed an easy enough task to just carry it to the chute-room by hand.

And to my amazement, it went well. In the waste-chute area, things got a bit hairy. I’d purposely made up small bags so they would go down the chute easily enough, but one white bag did not want to have it. I didn’t want to force anything, so took a carrier bag from the basket and broke it up into two bags, and all with no finger-trapping dizzies or other ailments troubling me! This was all very disconcerting, unnatural! 

I left the room and got to the lift lobby. I even go an elevator down to Jenny’s floor, within a minute or so! Luck, good fortune? Makes me shudder!

I put the bag near the door, pressed the bell, and got back to the lift lobby.

The residents lift arrived sharpishly again, I got in the cage, and pressed the floor twelve-button. My mind wandered on all this lack of Accifauxs and Whoopsiedangleplops. The lift stopped, dragging my mind back to the current time, and as I was absentmindedly getting out of the lift, a chap waiting to get on, wittily quipped, “Wrong floor, Gerry!” with a broad grin on his face, and head shaking! He added, “Stick with it, you’ll get there, mate. Hope you’ve some water and food in your trolley!” Hahaha! The wit! The cage had gone down to the 4th floor. It then took me up to my level. I did feel a fool!

I got back in the apartment, and I discovered I’d left two small white bags of rubbish on the kitchen floor.  Tsk!

I got the stick and took the two bags to the waste-chute, and on the way out, Neuropathy Nigel had me walk straight into the door frame! Twas a sickening sound, bone hitting wood, I verbalised a few oaths, by then Shuddering- Shoulder-Shirley started to kick of! It was all I could do to walk back to the flat with so little control over the walking stick, and not tumble over! I got in the flat to the knock-knock sounds from Herbert above.

Now this sort of luck, I understand and expect. Much easier to cope with! Hahaha!

I checked the kitchen for safety, got a bottle of spring water, and cordial made up, took the medications with an extra pain-killer (the shoulder felt a bit raw).

I got on with updating this blog).

Took a look for the latest Corona Virus figures, this chart on the right I got from the Your Nottingham web site.

The mental fatigue came on, and I got my dinner sorted out and served up. Ate it, well, most of it, then washed the pots, got my humongous-bellied body into the £300, second-hand, none-working, uncomfortable, rickety-recliner. Put on the original Die Hard DVD, and fell-asleep about ten-minutes into the film. Tsk!

I was woken up by some banging and tap-tapping noises from above. And wrote some notes of the dream I’d been having, on the notepad.

I rose to have a wee-wee and took this shot of the wonderful sky.

Below on the bottom field, were three youths playing music, and seemingly a picnic of some sort. I could hear the squeaky, tinny-sounding music right up here in the flat, but when I closed the window, I couldn’t. I made a brew, of Glengettie, and consulted the note about the dream to write in here.

Got the computer on; disappointingly, much of my scribble was unreadable. Bits of the memory was still in my head, though.

  • I was in what appeared to me, even in the dream, partly Draycott, Derby, and Leicester, or as if it was around the 1960s.
  • A bus station, again a mixu=re of various bus stations I had used over the years. I wanted a number 42 bus to Derby, but had to settle for a 4X, got on and paid the fair, and the conductor came back to me and asked for me fair again – we argued, the bus stopped, and we came to an agreement that he would only charge me 5/-, not the 6/11d the fare should have been? 
  • I fell asleep and woke up back at the original station.
  • I got off of the bus, and saw someone I knew (Don’t know who), and followed him into a gigantic underground world of brick-sided passages, covered in soot.
  • A bit vague here, the notes didn’t help. Mixed confused memories.
  • I eventually found myself coming out of the giant cave, and found myself in the Derby Bus Station cafe. I was a child in body, but a pensioner in age? Why I can remember this, especially, I know not? I even have a photograph of the exact area on file? The doors in the centre are where I appeared from the preceding part of the dream.

As I was adding this to the Inchcock Today, the ‘Hum’ got louder and louder until it almost became unbearable? Kluggledanks!

I went in to get the ablutions done, to find no hot water, and found the tap running in the sink! Skullclogglebonks!

So, I got this post done as far as here and will continue the tale of woe on tomorrow’s blog.

TTFNski, folks!

Inchcockski – Saturday 1st August 2020: Natterless day again. Humph!

 

Saturday 1st August 2020 

Xhosa: Ngomgqibelo Umhla Wokuqala Ku-Agasti Ka-2020

05:40hrs: I woke, I coughed, I passed wind, and clambered with an iota panic-stricken, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, musty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy-yet-tottery, rickety recliner. Got hold of the four-pronged stick, tested Arthur Itis’s left knee-cap, it was still attached, and off I limped to the wet room.

I felt my balance was not yet settled, and still, I walked into the main room door frame, and the poor-old right shoulder suffered again! But, no point in my getting bothered, pain, and all that, I recovered and pressed on, still unsure if I would get to the Throne in time.

No problem with the timing. The evacuation was back to what had been normal lately. The innards-controlled flow started, then stopped – I picked up the crossword book automatically, and delved into the clues. What seemed like many minutes later (I’d got three clues solved! Hehe!), things began moving again, in a wailfully painful mode!

It’s not necessarily a bad thing, this stop-start stuff on the Porcelain Throne in a morning, you know! The Diabetes insipidus, Post-Micturition Pre & After-Dribbling were not a problem as it trickled and dripped, while I was seated, like a Little Tubby Lord Fauntleroy. (Haha!)

The only fretting coming from the session; was the amount of bleeding. It didn’t look anything like the usual vibrant red, as Harold’s Haemorrhoids leaks usually are?

I cleaned up and medicated things, and I made the way to the kitchen! Taking a snap as I went carefully through the doorway, thus, avoiding any more collisions. The upcoming sunshine from behind the flats lit up the far land-line.

I got the kettle on the boil and blow-me-down-with-a-feather-duster, I had to return to the wet room for another a wee-wee! Tsk!

I forbore from any PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) because I’d made my way to the bowl as soon as I got a message from the bladder. Had I decided to finish making the mug of tea and then go for the wee-wee, I’m sure I would have had some embarrassment! The main-stream was surprisingly powerful and persistent. But the AMD still took longer to stop than the actual urinationalisticalising did!

Still, the pins, although looking bloodless, didn’t feel so painful this morning.  Slightly less bothersome. I wish I could say the same for my balance. Hey-ho!

It’s no wonder that I can’t get anything done! Marathon Porcelain Throne visits, now mega-long the PMD and AMD slowing things up even more! The tumbles; that can take ages to get back up from! Housework, what bit I can manage. Walking and banging into things! Shaking Shaun, Saccade-Sandra, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, Diabet… oh, never mind, moaning’s not going to improve anything. Bit of a self-pitying-chunter, slipped in, there, Sorry! Naughty Inchcock!

I cleaned things up again and returned to the kitchen. Made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and did the Health Checks. Sorted out the puzzling three tablets of the same size in the dosage pots, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, who failed on their promise not to put the Furesomide in the pots, but in a box in my monthly prescriptions.

But I bear no malice, hatred, disgust, revulsion, loathing, or desire for execrations towards the antisocial, Inchcock-Hating, Sneering, uncompassionate, superior-acting, uncaring, insensitive, heartless, obdurate, oblivious to damage they are doing,  the callous swine! Oh, no!

I’m not sure why, but I seem to be going almost into a depressional grip, minutes later I’ll be singing to myself, with hints of the Joys-of-Spring in the air, then back down in the pits. Mmm! Bonkersness, or Senility? Or both!

I got on the computer and really bamboozled myself again, just like last Saturday, I think. I was jumping from CorelDrawing, blogging, and back again repeatedly, forgetting what I had been on moments before. And getting annoyed with my self about it! An awful lot of effort, for little return. Schluberdubski!

I got around to creating a template for tomorrow’s post. Then, I went of to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana.

I took this shot of the houses in front of the building from the light & view-blocking, new kitchen window. Typically, by the time I’d got the camera out, the sunshine had withdrawn. Back to the computer, and it came out again!

So I popped into the balcony and took this photograph. As the sun rose later, it grew to what is now a lovely summers day.

As I was working on the keyboard, making decent progress for the first time, Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters ruined the enjoyment by their dying-off and coming back-on regularly!  Granglesbognessbuggerit!

So, I had to stop and went for yet another mug of tea, Extra-Strong Assam, this time.

I took these snaps on the right, to capture the almost perfect weather for the youngsters and those lucky to be adequately fit enough, have an amble in the bottom field. 

Who? Me? Jealous? No, never! Unglefrogwogglings!

The clouds in the sky were so different from yesterday, even prettier.

About to close the window, and I spotted some regular visitors, down in the field. I’ve seen the chap, he’s been out twice a day since Monday. Gathering blackberries (Rubus ursinus). He either has a taste for them or sells them on? Hahaha! And the Yap-Yap dogs were out, walking their owner. I could hear distinctive yapping, 12-floors up. I love to watch these dogs on their walk. So full of energy, madly shaking tail, and none-stop running and sniffing around, bless ’em!

Nicodemus was still playing up, so I went on the WordPress Reader section, some great photographs on there today. Then on Facebooking to catch up.

Dizzy Dennis and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, along with Anne Gyna, have now joined forces to put an end to me doing very much. I’m going to see how I go making an early meal, take some pain-killers, and get settled in the chair.  Sod-it, Dizzy Denis is back too now!

I made the quotidian feast. It took me a long time, cause I made cheesy potatoes, and seemed to be forever washing up bits splashed and dropped, and applying Germolene to the many bits of my fingers I burnt, getting the baked mixture out of the oven, was the only bad singe, and that was on the overabundant belly, near the button. Hehe! Klutz!

I got down in the dang-wangled c1968 recliner to eat the meal and watched FA Cup Final on the box. Just before the kick-off, my EQ told me the score would be 2-1, unequivocally! And it was, but I thought it would be to Chelsea, but Arsenal won it. Three bookings, a sending off, and for the first time ever, a manager was booked in a Wembley Cup Final!

Then drifted off into the Land of Nod! I woke later, and Dizzy Dennis was back. (The Git!) I carefully made my way to get the ablutions done. And, very well, they went, too! The toothache was only the tiniest bit bothersome. The shaving had a few dropsies and only one nick. The showering, a few short visits from Dizzy Dennis, but no injuries, and one showerhead-dropping. One of the least harassing and most injury-free ablutions session for ages!

The medicationalisationing and freshening up went alright, a few dropsies, the Germolene tube, pain-gel tube (2), and the cap off-off the Cortisone cream. I have yet to find that!

Getting the PPs on, lost a bit of balance, and scraped my ankle on the corner of the floor cabinet.

I think I might have said something to the tune of, ‘Oh, how irritating, that was!’ Ahemski!

The Deep Vein Thrombosis lumps were protruding more than usual? The pins had a little more colour, though.

I took a photo of the evening skyling. Then I got the towel on the stand-up dryer, made a brew, and took the evening medications. Onto Computer Cameron, to update this post.

The earlier faster typing-pace was thwarted, by regular visits from Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. Grogglebotchwitches! Hours later, I sent this off to WordPress, turned off the computer, and crawled into the c1968 recliner. Still having Dizzy Dennis moments! Humph!

Adieu, Mon Amis!

Inchcock – Friday 31st July 2020: Ahh! A Natterless, but betterer day, at last! Yee-Ha!

Thursday evening’s end tale:

The events of the day had worn me to a frazzle, I was tuckered out, wearied and zonked! When I went into the kitchenette, the fantastic night sky demanded of me to photograph it! So I did! 

I took three snaps in different modes. Of course, I can’t remember which was which now (Tsk!) but do recall using Auto, Night landscape, and Aperture Priority.

I got the 12-hours in a crock-pot, home-made stew served up. It looked a little unappealing when it was in the bowl on the tray. After starting the meal 14hrs earlier, this was disappointing. But it turned out fine, tastewise! A Taste Rating of 7/10 seemed about right.

I got the things washed up and despite my fatigued condition, noticed that I’d spilt a lot of gravy on the oven glove. So I set about washing it in the bowl, as I scrubbed away at it, I began to realise that something was amiss. Why was I doing this at this ungodly hour? My EQ told me I might as well, for sleep is not going to come yet!

I made a bottle of spring water & orange cordial, and took it with me to the recliner, and hop[ed Sweet Morpheus would oblige me. But no!

I watched two one-hour long documentaries on the box, without a single nodding-off, even during the commercial breaks! I even had time for a few Thought-Storms before I got off into the bliss of sleep!

I can do without another brain-challenging day like that again! (But of course, they will be back!) Grobognangles!


TFZer, Model?

Friday 31st July 2020

Haitian: Vendredi 31 Jiyè 2020

05:40hrs: So, I must have finally got about four-hours with Sweet Morpheus, and much-needed this was, too!

I stirred again, in an amazingly semi-perky frame of mind! I think the brain had tried overnight to blank out the hellishness of yesterday’s horrible, tormenting trials?

The extraction of my ever-growing, flabbier, bouncing, bulging-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, none-operational, uncomfortable, rickety, rusting recliner was not such an easy task this morning. My balance was a smidge out of synchronisation with Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters on the right side of the body. No Accifauxpas or tumbles during the trip, but I had to move slower and more cautiously than usual, as I hobbled to the kitchen. And en route, Dizzy Dennis started with short sharp spells, and even more care and wariness had to be taken.

I got the soaking oven glove from the sink bowl and got as much water from it as I could. A bit of a severe and painful job, with Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters not being compliant!

Then I hung and wrapped the long oven gloves around the heating bars of the stand-up clothes airer in the hallway.

Put the kettle on and decided to try again, taking three photographs of the morning view, in different camera modes, this time writing down which, to record here. Cunning! The first one was in Auto, the second in Shutter-Priority, and the last one, Aperture-Priority. The third one looked nearest to what the eye saw.

I got the BP sphygmomanometerisationing done. The SYS was back up high again. I imagine yesterdays turmoil and emotional stress, might have been the cause?

I got an insecure feeling that I had forgotten something, that I should remember about today? Most uncomfortable about this! As I was going to the computer, I noticed that the ‘Hum’, was nowhere near as loud today? I’m not complaining, like! I checked on the Google calendar to see if I’d put anything on it for today, zilch, nowt on it? Tsk!

Back to the kitchen, and made a brew, while the kettle was boiling, I needed two wee-wees. Made the tea, and wanted another one! Blimus! Every one of them (I’ll try not to mention any of those that followed; unless there was a change in style, too many to mention them all! Huh!), were of the WOPT (Weak-Orange-Painful-Trickling) mode, with lots of annoying, time-consuming PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribbling)!

Then took the medications, after sorting out the three lookalike small tablets, to identify the Furesomide to remove. Thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, letting me down again. Grangleclogs! To be fair, they are consistent at pissing me off, and have excellent customer ignoring skills! Credit where it’s due!

Back to Computer Cameron. Still not free of this nagging fear that I’ve forgotten something important today, Grrr!

I took this photo through the balcony windows, showing the spreading shadow of the flats.

That’ll be the balcony that has bits of cement or concrete falling from the top inside, that disappear through the wooden floor slats to join the dead insects. Closed windows that let the rain in. End window openings that are cleverly designed. So that you need to push and pull at the same time to open the razor shard-edged metal spring clips at the same time, to open them. Thus, assuring lumps of a finger or two will be removed when operating them.

Incidentally, there have been three people up to now, who have tried to open my balcony end windows since fitted.

  • One, an NCH fitter, he got a bruised and blackened finger for his efforts. Made him jump, and told me, that he is going to report the matter. That was well over two years ago.
  • The second was a Phlebotomy Blood nurse. She got a nasty bruise that tuned black before she’d left the flat. She also said this needs reporting, and I will when get back!  That was about two years ago!
  • The third is me: cuts, bruises, and black spots of varying degrees over the years.

Perfectly well-designed, anyone who is elderly, with Peripheral Neuropathy, Arthritis, Cramps, on Warfarin, Diabetic, poor eye-sight, or senile, these problems have been ignored, not taken on board. I fall into each of the above categories. Luckily, we are all here on a short term basis, age dictates this, so they don’t have to be worried about it. When one resident put in a complaint, he told me the answer given him, was, “Well, don’t open them then!” Fair enough, it’s a solution. But, I don’t complain, I daren’t. Hehehe!

Then, I made a start doing this blog. Dizzy Dennis has decided to attack frequently, but not for any long sessions (up to now, anyway). I made some progress blogging, and then realised I had no page header graphics in hand! And had not caught up om Facebooking either. (The idea that I’d forgot something still wrangled me!) So, I went on Facebooking first, then CorelDraw to create some graphics. It’s hard work, again!

Well, Goodness Gracious me! I’ve been at CorelDrawing now, for nearly four hours, and head-down time approaches, and nothing to eat yet. The worst bit is that I have only got three page-header graphics completed, in all that time! I got carried away, doing much more complicated designs, cause I was enjoying it so much! Now there’s something you really hear me say. Hahaha!

My newly made plans for my nosh are now changed to beef sarnies, Dagwood style, well-buttered, beef, with tomatoes and gherkins. Oh, I’ve got some eggs, it’s been that long since I bought some, I’d forgot I had them. Yes, some boiled egg as well, then!

I’ll make a start now, and return to computerisationing later. Now I have made myself hungry. I hope I get it right. Back sooner or later, folks!

The imitation Dagwood (lathered in Britanny butter) roast beef and tomato rolls, egg mayonnaise, beetroot & onion salad, and pork pie meat, backed up my apples, grapes and imitation cream dessert, was slowly and wallowingly digested, and enjoyed. TR 7/10.

I pondered over the day, a much betterer one than yesterday, although still a talkless to anyone one, (other than to myself – I did a lot of that, barely stopped). And no call to the Porcelain Throne either, yet! I got the pots washed.

I got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety recliner, to watch the TV. Fell asleep, and woke up, in a semi-panic, needing to utilise the Porcelain Throne. I say semi-panic, cause I feared I might not get here in time, the gurgling was almost continuous.

But I did it and was most amazed when I sat there for ages, doing the crossword puzzled for yonks. I think I may have broken my record for passing wind, without a break! The movement had to be encouraged, but it was far less painful this time, and of tinned meatballs in texture.

As I’m was about to medicate certain no-longer-used parts of my grossly overweight body, I spontaneously (is that the right word?), thought I might as well do the ablutions while I as there.

I was doing the teeth and realised it was a little late in the day for using the noisy shower tonight, so I opted for a good stand-up bath. No problems with the teggie-cleaning. And shaving, wait for it… did not produce a single cut or nick! Plenty of dropsies, mind.

My plates and legs were the most anaemic looking for years? But, no problems or pains with them. Even Arthur Itis has been in a good mood all day. I fear something unexpected, and discommodious is going to end all this good fortune!

The medicating was painless and accident-free! I’m not used to this?

Freshening up spray, deodorant, that’s the word, created a bit of interest. I must have dropped the ‘Sure’ can repeatedly at one time, five times in a row! It’s a good job there are no microphones in the wet room! I was laughing at myself and passing criticisms every time I dropped it. On the final dropping, the Sure spray can hit my foot and it bounced against the floor cabinet, and the plastic sprayer-top shattered. Hahaha! 

I got the computer back on and updated, then sent off this blog.

TTFNski each, and haveth a super-duper day!

Inchcockski – Saturday 1st August 2020: Natterless day again. Humph!

 

Saturday 1st August 2020 

Xhosa: Ngomgqibelo Umhla Wokuqala Ku-Agasti Ka-2020

05:40hrs: I woke, I coughed, I passed wind, and clambered with an iota panic-stricken, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, musty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy-yet-tottery, rickety recliner. Got hold of the four-pronged stick, tested Arthur Itis’s left knee-cap, it was still attached, and off I limped to the wet room.

I felt my balance was not yet settled, and still, I walked into the main room door frame, and the poor-old right shoulder suffered again! But, no point in my getting bothered, pain, and all that, I recovered and pressed on, still unsure if I would get to the Throne in time.

No problem with the timing. The evacuation was back to what had been normal lately. The innards-controlled flow started, then stopped – I picked up the crossword book automatically, and delved into the clues. What seemed like many minutes later (I’d got three clues solved! Hehe!), things began moving again, in a wailfully painful mode!

It’s not necessarily a bad thing, this stop-start stuff on the Porcelain Throne in a morning, you know! The Diabetes insipidus, Post-Micturition Pre & After-Dribbling were not a problem as it trickled and dripped, while I was seated, like a Little Tubby Lord Fauntleroy. (Haha!)

The only fretting coming from the session; was the amount of bleeding. It didn’t look anything like the usual vibrant red, as Harold’s Haemorrhoids leaks usually are?

I cleaned up and medicated things, and I made the way to the kitchen! Taking a snap as I went carefully through the doorway, thus, avoiding any more collisions. The upcoming sunshine from behind the flats lit up the far land-line.

I got the kettle on the boil and blow-me-down-with-a-feather-duster, I had to return to the wet room for another a wee-wee! Tsk!

I forbore from any PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) because I’d made my way to the bowl as soon as I got a message from the bladder. Had I decided to finish making the mug of tea and then go for the wee-wee, I’m sure I would have had some embarrassment! The main-stream was surprisingly powerful and persistent. But the AMD still took longer to stop than the actual urinationalisticalising did!

Still, the pins, although looking bloodless, didn’t feel so painful this morning.  Slightly less bothersome. I wish I could say the same for my balance. Hey-ho!

It’s no wonder that I can’t get anything done! Marathon Porcelain Throne visits, now mega-long the PMD and AMD slowing things up even more! The tumbles; that can take ages to get back up from! Housework, what bit I can manage. Walking and banging into things! Shaking Shaun, Saccade-Sandra, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, Diabet… oh, never mind, moaning’s not going to improve anything. Bit of a self-pitying-chunter, slipped in, there, Sorry! Naughty Inchcock!

I cleaned things up again and returned to the kitchen. Made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and did the Health Checks. Sorted out the puzzling three tablets of the same size in the dosage pots, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, who failed on their promise not to put the Furesomide in the pots, but in a box in my monthly prescriptions.

But I bear no malice, hatred, disgust, revulsion, loathing, or desire for execrations towards the antisocial, Inchcock-Hating, Sneering, uncompassionate, superior-acting, uncaring, insensitive, heartless, obdurate, oblivious to damage they are doing,  the callous swine! Oh, no!

I’m not sure why, but I seem to be going almost into a depressional grip, minutes later I’ll be singing to myself, with hints of the Joys-of-Spring in the air, then back down in the pits. Mmm! Bonkersness, or Senility? Or both!

I got on the computer and really bamboozled myself again, just like last Saturday, I think. I was jumping from CorelDrawing, blogging, and back again repeatedly, forgetting what I had been on moments before. And getting annoyed with my self about it! An awful lot of effort, for little return. Schluberdubski!

I got around to creating a template for tomorrow’s post. Then, I went of to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana.

I took this shot of the houses in front of the building from the light & view-blocking, new kitchen window. Typically, by the time I’d got the camera out, the sunshine had withdrawn. Back to the computer, and it came out again!

So I popped into the balcony and took this photograph. As the sun rose later, it grew to what is now a lovely summers day.

As I was working on the keyboard, making decent progress for the first time, Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters ruined the enjoyment by their dying-off and coming back-on regularly!  Granglesbognessbuggerit!

So, I had to stop and went for yet another mug of tea, Extra-Strong Assam, this time.

I took these snaps on the right, to capture the almost perfect weather for the youngsters and those lucky to be adequately fit enough, have an amble in the bottom field. 

Who? Me? Jealous? No, never! Unglefrogwogglings!

The clouds in the sky were so different from yesterday, even prettier.

About to close the window, and I spotted some regular visitors, down in the field. I’ve seen the chap, he’s been out twice a day since Monday. Gathering blackberries (Rubus ursinus). He either has a taste for them or sells them on? Hahaha! And the Yap-Yap dogs were out, walking their owner. I could hear distinctive yapping, 12-floors up. I love to watch these dogs on their walk. So full of energy, madly shaking tail, and none-stop running and sniffing around, bless ’em!

Nicodemus was still playing up, so I went on the WordPress Reader section, some great photographs on there today. Then on Facebooking to catch up.

Dizzy Dennis and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, along with Anne Gyna, have now joined forces to put an end to me doing very much. I’m going to see how I go making an early meal, take some pain-killers, and get settled in the chair.  Sod-it, Dizzy Denis is back too now!

I made the quotidian feast. It took me a long time, cause I made cheesy potatoes, and seemed to be forever washing up bits splashed and dropped, and applying Germolene to the many bits of my fingers I burnt, getting the baked mixture out of the oven, was the only bad singe, and that was on the overabundant belly, near the button. Hehe! Klutz!

I got down in the dang-wangled c1968 recliner to eat the meal and watched FA Cup Final on the box. Just before the kick-off, my EQ told me the score would be 2-1, unequivocally! And it was, but I thought it would be to Chelsea, but Arsenal won it. Three bookings, a sending off, and for the first time ever, a manager was booked in a Wembley Cup Final!

Then drifted off into the Land of Nod! I woke later, and Dizzy Dennis was back. (The Git!) I carefully made my way to get the ablutions done. And, very well, they went, too! The toothache was only the tiniest bit bothersome. The shaving had a few dropsies and only one nick. The showering, a few short visits from Dizzy Dennis, but no injuries, and one showerhead-dropping. One of the least harassing and most injury-free ablutions session for ages!

The medicationalisationing and freshening up went alright, a few dropsies, the Germolene tube, pain-gel tube (2), and the cap off-off the Cortisone cream. I have yet to find that!

Getting the PPs on, lost a bit of balance, and scraped my ankle on the corner of the floor cabinet.

I think I might have said something to the tune of, ‘Oh, how irritating, that was!’ Ahemski!

The Deep Vein Thrombosis lumps were protruding more than usual? The pins had a little more colour, though.

I took a photo of the evening skyling. Then I got the towel on the stand-up dryer, made a brew, and took the evening medications. Onto Computer Cameron, to update this post.

The earlier faster typing-pace was thwarted, by regular visits from Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. Grogglebotchwitches! Hours later, I sent this off to WordPress, turned off the computer, and crawled into the c1968 recliner. Still having Dizzy Dennis moments! Humph!

Adieu, Mon Amis!

Inchcock – Wednesday 29th July 2020: Warning: This contains an X-Rated Ablutionalisationing Report!

TFZer Keith, Modelling

Wednesday 29th July 2020

Welsh: Dydd Mercher 29ain Gorffennaf 2020

I’m writing from 2030hrs last night. At last, after much harassment and many botherations, thanks to Jenny, I eventually got some nosh made (See right – A delight). 

And what a nosh it was. Despite my being knackerated, in state of body and mind, I gladly ate it all up! Chinese belly pork, baked beans flavoured with BBQ seasoning and tomato puree, and mushrooms, some milk roll bread, made a fruit salad of sorts, and raspberry ripple mousse. Taste Rating: 8/10.

Left pots to soak in the sink, and dived down into the recliner in search of Sweet Morpheous. But I think I must have been over-tired or something, cause it was ages before I got off. Tsk!


03:20hrs: I woke with a start, talk about confused, the mind was indeed not working very well. Maybe I’d had an odd dream, though I cannot recall having one. No matter what day is it, for a moment I had to concentrate on who I was! It was a cringe-worthy few moments before the brain engaged properly. (Well, I say properly, hehehe!)

Just as things were mentally settling, the dreaded ‘Inner-Gurgling’ started, and I had to make my way to the wet room ASAP, stumbling along with the stick, en route I blamed last night’s meal. I’ve never had Diahorrea-Duncan so bad in my life! After thunderingly flopping on the seat, the evacuation began immediately, almost liquid, and it felt so uncomfortable. Eugh! The tummy ache got worse after the session had finished! I’m getting a little wee’d-off with the ever-changing motions of late. And, all the cleaning up and medicating after the event. Even after waiting so long for completions, it was like a dripping tap, the wee-weeing continued with the PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribble). I dread to think how long I was in there for. But hope lies ahead, faith will not be lost, my mission will continue, and progress will be made! I’ve not got the foggiest idea what I’m talking about, here?

Off to the kitchen! Washed last night’s pots, then the kettle on and tried again to take a decent shot of the morning view, but I’m not doing well recently with these shots. Still, it was no worse than yesterday’s early morning efforts, or was it? Hehe!

As I was getting the Health-Check stuff out of the drawer, a combination of Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failing, and an untimely short spell of Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley arrived. The thermometer and tablet-pods ended up on the floor! The stick thermometer would not work, I’m hoping it needs a new battery, as opposed to my having broken it all together. No longer works! Groggleknockers!

The HP readings were fine enough. I used the new thermometer to take the temperature, but it wasn’t having of it at all? The screen flashed, and a few indefinable odd dots flashed. Methinks I’ve now broken both of the thermometers? Globblegripes!

Made a brew of Extra strong Assam tea, and started the updating of this post. Oh, I got an email from Iceland!

And a long job it turned out to be, Nicodemus and Shirley seemed to have allied themselves, to ensure I have plenty of hassle, mistake-making, ever-correcting, and a frustrating time doing the blog! Grrr!

Off to get the ablutions done, with Iceland coming with my hastily placed order. (Morrisons I know had just delivered yesterday, but Morrisons did not have any egg mayonnaise, so I ordered some from Iceland), and the Amazon ‘bamboo diabetic socks’ are coming, I had to get the washing up done early. But it was too early to use the shower, the noise might disturb my neighbours. Off to the wet room poddled!

AblutionalisationingFor over Eighteens only X-rated Report

  • One tiny cut shaving, but a devil of a job to stop bleeding! Tsk!
  • A disappointing session this one was. It started with me hitting my left shoulder against the door frame as I entered the room! The left, not the right? A Great Start! 
  • Broke the blue toothbrush! That did Toothache Thomas a lot of good!
  • I’ve no idea how long it took me to find the pack of four I knew I had somewhere, but when I did find it, after going into two rooms in search, it was on the trolley on my left, on the shelf below the toothpaste! No idea how I missed it for so long! Grumbleconfusement!

By now, I’d spent such a long time in there, I was so late, I could use the shower now. So not all bad!

  • I was doing well, so nicely,  until I was cleaning my rear-quarters, and set off Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding! It reminded me that old American Noir film with blood in the shower, but I can’t remember the name of it, stabbed in the shower, oh, I’ll look it up later
  • I turned up the power on the shower, to wash away the blood away, but it kept coming. Oh, dearie me! 
  • So, I just kept spraying it down the drain at regular intervals. Bad, this! 
  • The good news is that I went through the whole long episode without dropping the shower-head once!
  • Did well in the freshening-up and medicating departments. The new Clobetasone cream was really useful in stopping the bleeding. It stung a bit, like! 
  • Getting dried without any problems, then getting dressed, as I was battling to get the PP’s on, over I went. All the fault of Shaking Shaun, and his inexpediently timed visit! Argh! 
  • I stayed down for a minute, to assess any damage I might have done to my Herculean-like, trim, muscled, young firm body.  (Ahem!)
  • Everything that had taken place during this mammoth ablution session paled into the ether. For after a look, sensing and a feel around, the only damage I could find was Arthur Itis’s left knee had been put out, and that snapped back as I rose from the floor, using the shower chair’s assistance. I was Mega-Superduper-Lucky there! A ginormous Smug-Mode grew!

Obviously, I was limping badly for a few minutes, but my spirits had grown, for some reason. Most likely by yours truly, having such good fortune? I was tickled-pink! And the legs and plates were looking so good! Well, apart from Arthur’s left patella.

Now, I was singing to myself as I went to the kitchen, and got the kettle on!

Got on the computer, and not long later, the intercom buzzed, it was the Iceland chap arriving. Naturally, when I pressed the top button, saw who it was, and pressed the bottom open-door button, the screen went black! Always some problem with this hard to hear, unreliable system! Tsk!

I told the chap about the intercom, not being awkward to use, unable to hear it, and it kept going blank when I try to let someone in. The chap said no-end of folks tell him the same. He obligingly left the bags in the doorway for me.

I took them through to the kitchenette, for sorting and checking, and found some errors had been made. Not the 18 medium eggs in place of six eggs, but in my rushing to get an order in so I could get the mayonnaise eggs, I’d got a few things misconstrued!

You see on the right, is a white bottle, which I to have ordered, and it was meant to be the same size as the pink, nearly empty one? I tried to work out why I should buy a £10 120 wash bottle of the Ylang 4.20 L Surf? The one I have is a 47 wash 1645ml one costing me £4.50, and that’s lasted me for months! Where do you start working out which the better value? Litres and Miliitres, too confusing for my arithmophobia and dyscalculia! I was grand with £.s.d, pints, fluid ounces and inches! Of course, since the stroke, there have been extra problems like this.

I got the flour for Jenny in a bag, and split the substitutes big box of eggs with her, and put a bag of white cobs in it. Then got the waste bags made up, and filled the three-wheeler with them. So much easier walking with the trolley, (but not on the buses too many moans about being in the way, Tsk!)

I phoned Jen to let her know I was going down with the flour. And set off to the rubbish chute with the bags. I couldn’t carry the food bag as well, so after depositing the waste in the chute, I nipped back to collect it. Then to the lift lobby.

The wait was not too long to get a lift, but while I was waiting, the Constructors only lift arrived, and a woman got out? Down the Jenny’s, had a little natter, Jen gave me monies for the flour, swapped cheerios, and back to the lifts.

And another lady got out of the constructors-only cage? These Covid-19 safety rulings are not being adhered to at all by some!

I wonder if the Coronavirus is for real, has sank-in yet? Ah, well, who am I? That’s a good question, I’ll try to find an answer later. Hehehe!

I got back inside the flat, and checked on the potatoes on the slow-cooker, and began to shell some peas. There I was, happy and contented a lark, the sunshine coming through the lethal new windows, and I basked in it for a few minutes, while I shelled the garden peas, dinking the mug of tasty Thompsons Punjabi tea, and dreaming of the betterer days, now gone.

I must have something about shelling peas, a distant memory of happier times perhaps? I certainly didn’t need to through all the painful experience of doing the fresh peas. Not with my supply of canned garden peas! Haha! My fearfully short moment of joy and contentment ended.

When I added some of the sugar, I’d bought from Morrisons into the saucepan. And realised I had not bought demerara, but caster sugar? Well, fancy that! Me, getting summat wrong! I bothered Jenny by ringing her up, and asked her if it was alright to use this different sugar? She explained that Castor, or Caster sugar, is standard sugar ground up more finely. I thanked her.

Then I asked myself a serious question; “How come you managed shops for Tesco and the Co-op for all those years, all that stocktaking, cash handling, and balancing the millions of trading stamps every Saturday night, and have actually forgotten what Caster sugar was?

My earlier elation dissipated a little further, as I knew the answer. I am losing it. Becoming affected or infected, with presenile dementia? The stroke didn’t help. Fast cometh to me, the old-timers disease, Alzheimer’s maybe? Nobody seems bothered, and I must be going potty because I’m not bothered either! Well, not at this moment I’m not.

What can one do? It’s obvious, put the kettle on again for a brew, back to Glengettie Gold this time. I spent a couple of minutes worth of nephelococcygia, and I spotted a helmeted face in the clouds. Tetched the camera to take a snap… Could I find the face again? Nope!

I set about emailing the link for yesterdays blog. (Better late than never. But I’ve had a busy day losing the plot!)

I got a Nottingham News Email, this was in it: Across Nottinghamshire and the city, the data shows varied rates across the seven local councils and Nottingham – with some regions registering increases and others seeing a drop in cases. The most notable area, is Bassetlaw, with the number of confirmed Covid-19 cases per 100,000 people more than doubling from 6.0 to 14.5 in the last seven days.

I got the oven on, it’s getting past my usual head-down time already!.

Aha, the intercom sounded off! It was the Amazon diabetic winter socks arriving.

Well, they look warm enough. The fight with the sock-glide could be a painful one, I didn’t expect them to be so thick?

Being the coward I am, and having managed without wearing socks for three months or more, I shall continue to abstain.

At least until it gets too cold for me, and I’ll have to recommence my daily, fearful, dangerous, shocking, hemerine struggle with the innocent-looking Sock Glide again!

Ah! The memories I have of my risky, injury ensuring, lethal morning tussles wit the glide!

The black-spotted fingers, the scraped knuckles, the blood flowing. The cursing, stubbing my toe on it, toppling over when using it, tearing the socks, and dropping the danged thing.

But it seems impervious to getting damaged. 

It just silently lays there on the shower chair, seemingly staring at me, not for want of company or feeling sad at not being used, oh, no!

It just can’t wait to get back to its meaning in life – To injure me as much as possible! Luckily, I have a good supply of pain-gel, a few Codien 60g, and liquid Morphine hidden in the medical cupboard, along with a tube of bruise-easer ointment, bandages and plasters at the ready, for when the Morning Altercations are forced to restart again!

Going bonkers, me? Mmm?

I am about to get the nosh sorted out now, five-hours later than planned originally. (I may give-up on making plans, they never come to fruition or work out right anyway! Tsk!)

I’ll carry on updating from this point, in the morning post.

Take care out there! May your foibles ferment with festivity, fun and financial gain!

Inchcocksi – Tuesday 28th July 2020:

TFZer Keeping at a Social Distance

Yee-ha!

Tuesday 28th July 2020

Maori: Rātū 28 Hōngongoi 2020

03:00hrs: Within minutes of waking up, I’d ignored the nagging worry of something, whatever it was, I knew I had to remember this morning (Tsk!), had clambered out of £300, second-hand, c1968, none-operational, rusty, rickety, uncomfortable recliner, caught my balance, and with the aid of the four-pronged walking stick, I found myself in the kitchen. with the window open, with camera in hand, taking photographs out of the window of the morning views!

Nowt outstanding in this, I know. But I had to guess the getting up procedure I’d just done, due to a memory-blank. I really could not recall doing anything up to this point. The ailments are starting early this morning?

I went to get the kettle on, but it already was on. (Oh dearie me! – Hey-ho!) Then I got the sphygmomanometer and took the blood pressure and pulse. All the figures looked good enough for me. I used the stick thermometer, and it showed a figure today, of 84.4°, which I also think is good. The inner body seems to be doing okay, now if I can control the mind as well, there still may be hope for me. Hehehe!

As I began to download the photos from the SDCH card, the belated demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived from the innards. No messing about, I hobbled-hastily to the wet-room. But the solidity of evacuation prevented any movement, despite my having a go at the crossword while waiting and hoping for some activity.

So, off I limped to the kitchenette and partook in a mug of Macrogol in warm water. Then back to the computer, and started to download the pictures of my trip-around-Nottingham, to the computer. There were a few of them to sort out and remember about.

And, guess what? Yes! Down went the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet site! I did a Google search for any current problems and found this. Not the sarky first graphic, I made that up myself, Humph!

If Virgin, along with British Gas, would allow me to leave them, I would! But they get away with lying and giving wrong or dead links to use for this! The Swine! 

A beautiful morning, though!

I left the computer alone, as I got another call to the throne, so I went off to the wet-room zone, alone! (The poetry comes free, folks, Hehehe!)

By Jiminy, that Macrogol works quickly!

The legs looked fine this morning!

A bigger than a normal dollop of an evacuation started, along with the agony, bleeding and a little cursing on my behalf! A few words invented as well, like… ‘Eeerogleardamn’ and ‘Ooo, oo, argh!’ An awful lot of cleaning up and medicationalisationing was needed. Glunglegnatsworth!

 I got back to updating again when the internet returned. Then went on Facebooking.

Guess what? My viewing figures on WordPress, have dwindled suddenly? From 120, down to 58, and now 7? I’m worried if I’ve done summat wrong?

I finished and posted off the Monday blog (7 views only? I’m losing heart here!) Then went on the WP Reader section.

Humph! Then. the net disappeared again! 

This time for only a few minutes, though. Thank you, Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet!

Disheartened, I went to check on the mushrooms in the crock-pot. As you can see in the blurred photograph, I had to jump back as the steam came flying out!

That’ll teach me to be more careful! Haha!


My Brother-inLaw, Pete, who had his first treatment for the Big-C, yesterday, sent me a photo of the gear he got sent home with! Cor, Blimus! I replied, making him a belated Honourary Member of the ‘Official Medicationalisticalised Pill-popping Person’s  Association’. Well, it made him larf he said! Hehe!


My beloved Nurse Hristina arrived as I was cleaning the electric fire-front. She was obviously in a bit of a rush, but found time to give me a few minutes nattering session, which I appreciated no-end! I told her of the Podiatrist farce, but not complainingly. She offered to move the crunched-up carpet for me when she noticed I got a bit entangled in it with the stick, but I thanked her and declined. And sadly had to let her go, cause I could that she needed to, a busy gal! ♥

When I got back on the computer, Tsk!

I decided to do a Google check on the other internet suppliers as well.

I was suspicious when I saw a similar pattern to each one? It seems to me, to be one of the biggest cons since decimalisation! I assume the red dotted line, indicates the average speed, or complaints, for the given time? Liberty-Global, being the lowest?

I took a shot of the end car park on Chestnut Walk, from the balcony. I wouldn’t risk injury by trying to open the lethal metal spring clip, that needs pressing and pulling at the same time to use. (A fitter actually trapped his finger on in last March! Honest!) So I hung out of one of the front windows as far as I dare. Mainly to get the photo of four read vehicles for my cyber-mate Billum Ziegler, in Ohio, I think. Hehe!

I made up some waste bags to go to the chute, and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea… and had to shoot back off to the Porcelain Throne, in a panicky rush!

How embarrassing, I didn’t get there in time! I felt so ashamed, guilty, and angry with myself! I blamed myself as well, I shouldn’t have taken the Macrogol so hastily. Still, it proves that it works. After a lengthy cleaning up session and medicationalisationing, I was a different person when I got back to the computer. The enthusiasm had gone. Whatever I’d done wrong to get so few views, and now this Porcelain Throne stigma and disaster had got to me. 

Then I heard what sounded like a car horn being pressed angrily, it sounds like it was right in the room, to my left? Was it the alert alarm box, the light on it had gone off? Someone outside on the road, I looked outside from the balcony, but could see nothing untoward? Checked that the landline was still working, that was fine? on it. The Virgin box still had lights lit on it?… Then I heard what sounded like someone breathing out and it was loud? It came from the area where the alarm, Virgin box and telephone were situated? Gawd, I’m all confused again!

I got back to the waste-bag sorting and loaded the three-wheeler up, it couldn’t take any more bags. Hehe!

The wind was getting up as I waited patiently for a lift to arrive. Then I realised I’d left the camera in the hallway. So I nipped back into the flat to collect it from the radiator where I’d left it.

When I got back out to the lift lobby, I’d missed the elevator. So waited patiently for the tenants lift to arrive. The constructor-only lift came three times, and I had to send it back up, to get the tenants one to come to me. Ah, well, at least I got down, eventually.

I hobbled out of the lobby, to the waste bin. And as the recycling bags were smaller than normal, I coped with getting them in the small opening. I went into Smug-Mode! But not for long, when I realised I had not dropped the two black down the waste chute, so I’ll take them back up with me, on the way back and deposit them down the chute.

I waddled along Chestnut Walk, taking some photos, and popped into the new Winwood Extra Care Court.

Where the Wardens Holding Cells, Interrogation room, and office are located. To see Laptop Model, Warden Deana. There was no one in the office.

Not that it mattered.  I’d forgotten why I was calling in the first place. Thundeclumphead, that’s me!

I also suffer, with Ethonomia you know! Hahaha!

Another picture was taken on the way back. I did notice that the string wind seemed to be only around my Woodthorpe Court area?

I went in through the Caretakers door, and unfortunately, bothered Caretaker Robert, who was having his nosh! But he was alright about it. He took the black bags from, bless him. We had a mini-natter, and I told him about the NHS only treating people, well the NHS Podiatrists, with bad circulation in their feet. I said my farewells and went out to the ground floor lift lobby.

Another long wait. Several folks were in front of me in the queue. The tenant’s lift was moving twixt the 9th and thirteenth floors for ages! Then I spotted a note on the board, about a window cleaner who was calling on at Woodthorpe Court, on Thursday 6th August. We had to put out names and flat numbers on the form if we wanted him to call on us.

I nipped back and pestered Robert again, to loan, or should or borrow a pen so I could sign up? Signed, and took the pen back to the caretaker.

By the time I made it back to the elevators, two new tenants were there. The tenant and a construction worker got in the same residents lift together. Then it was my turn for the next free lift.

You wouldn’t believe how long I had to wait. The tenants lift again started going twixt the 9th and 14th floor, repeatedly. While I waited, the Constructor only cage came down to the ground floor about three times. Very confusing? Still, it was interesting!

I got inside the flat, stored the three-wheeler in the hallway, and got the kettle on (first things first!), made a brew of Glengettie. While I was in the kitchen, I eventually heard the landline ringing, I got to it as fast as I could, but missed it. Back to making the brew, and it happened again, and I was too late getting to it again!

I rang to see if it was Jenny, but no. She remembered the 1471 number, I thanked her, and tried it. The number ringing was 07786……. I tried to find who it was on Google. All I got as ‘Do not ring back: this is possible a scam or con! So I didn’t!

I had a moment or two of ponderisationing. The Morrison order is coming late today, 17:00 > 18:00hrs. And as I unslept the computer, an email came in from Morrisons, they do not have any egg mayonnaise! I let Jenny know that the flour would be here and roughly when. She asked me to phone her when it arrives, and she will nip up to collect it.

Well, no egg mayonnaise! Tsk! I’ll do an Iceland order methinks, and get some, also add eggs so when Jenny explains to me how to, I can make my own.

Done it!

I noticed the sky was so beautiful, I risked life and limb by taking a shot of it from outside the balcony window. But realised when it came to putting it on here, it was not so good as I thought it would be. Red-eye and I caught the window edge on it! Oh, well!

The egg-Mayonnaiseless Morrison order could be arriving anytime now.

I’m getting tired and have a feeling, I’ve forgotten something? Mmm!

When the food order comes, I’ve got to call Jenny, hello, she’s just sent me an email! I’ll investigate it. Haha!

Must stay awake, not nod-off, but the eyelids are getting heavy.

To tired to concentrate now, I might turn off Computer Cameron for a bit, or longer.

Oh, I’ve got some diabetic socks coming tomorrow, the longer ones. Of course, it’s been that long since I’ve worn any, it might be amusing using and injuring myself with the sock-glide again. Oh, yes!

Aha, the latest Coronavirus updates just come through. A little concerning,

Today: Additional cases on Tuesday 28 July 2020: 581.
The total number of COVID-19 associated UK deaths 45,878.
Deaths of people who have had a positive test result: 119 Additional deaths on Tuesday 28 July 2020.
Fighting off the fatigue, and I’ve got the nosh to do yet. Poor old thing! Hahaha! Can’t be long now, it’s ten minutes to the end of the hour for the delivery?
Then it dawned on me, as the hour of the delivery passed with nothing arrived yet. The call might have been from the driver to say he’d be late for some reason? But the magic red-letter warning from the Google inquiry, prevented me being brave enough to try ringing it. Oh, dearie me! 
Then I thought, oh, dearie me, (I do that a lot, you’ve noticed, I bet?) and wondered if he’s left the stuff outside the door? I went to check. Nope!
Gone 18:30hrs now! I phoned Jenny to let her know and explained the possible cock-up!
After I’d taken these shots across the sky, from left to right, from the kitchen window, and the glom got me down even more. I sat down to put then on here, and the late sun burst through?
I was battling against falling asleep still, and it was a right struggle-and-a-half, I feel the need to tell you!
The sun, shone through the balcony windows, and when I picked up the Nikon to put the SDH card back in it, it was so hot, I nearly dropped the camera! I had to close the blinds.
An hour and a half later, the Morrison delivery arrived. It was the driver who was ringing me earlier. Jenny and Frank, bless ”em came to help me sort the stuff out, I handed the flour over while they were up in the flat. ♥♥♥
I am now going to get meal cooked and will take the tale up again on the Wednesday post, cause I’m shattered
Food and sleep, seem my greatest needs, at the moment! Hehehe!.

Inchcockski – Monday 27th July 2020: Toenails cut, but bad news followed! Nottingham City photos taken. Ah, well!

TFZer Model ♥

Monday 27th July 2020

Hungarian: 2020 Július 27, Hétfő

20:45hrs: Not the odd time here on the left? That’s because I did the Sunday post early, and continue with it into this blog. To save time today. Cunning eh? I think that’s what I mean? 

18:30hrs: I got out of the £300, second-hand, rusty, decrepit, c1968 rickety recliner, and got the computer back on, to finish the Sunday blog, and got it sent off. Emailed the links, then on Facebooking catching-up.

Had a bash at doing some graphics up, on CorelDraw. Did a couple and sat down in the rickety, c1968 recliner, to have a mug of Extra Strong Assam tea, and some Branston Pickle flavoured cheddars… Fatal! But oh, so pleasurable! I nodded off into the land of Sweet Morpheus, and a few hours (it felt like), off constant dreaming. All memories of my past, younger days.

0455hrs, I woke up, almost in a panic! ‘Oh, what time is it ?’ – ‘I’ve not sorted the things out yet for podiatrist trip!’ –  ‘What needs doing fist?’ But the need for a wee-wee arrived; breaking my train of thought.

The urgency of the sudden liquid-evacuation meant I made a right Whoopsie, and got up, caught my balance and wandered over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) without taking the walking stick. I arrived at the bucket, okay but as I began to relieve myself of the RSP (Reluctant-Sprinkly-Painful) wee-wee, Shuddering -Shoulder-Shirley kicked-off! How I managed to keep hold of the grey bucket, was nothing short of a miracle! As soon as things stopped flowing, I put the bucket down, and without spilling anything (Very-Temporary-Smug-Mode-Adopted). 

Just to guarantee me a terrible start to this already worrying day, Peripheral Neuropathy Paul launched one of his involuntary, no-control-over, right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went. Backwards – but this was a good thing, for I fell onto the £300, second-hand recliner. Not only that, but I missed hitting both of chair-arms on my way down! I wish I’d got the camera in reach, as I lay there, watching the last few dying twitches and flutters of the leg. Within a minute, it had calmed down altogether (which is not rare).

But, the incident had triggered thoughts of insecurity within me. I began to fear and imagine terrible consequences ahead for me. Will I manage going out after so long? Will Paul give me any bother at the Podiatry Clinic? I’m already doubtful that they will cut my toenails for me? Will the trolley-walker fit in the taxi? Will the cab arrive on time? Will I be able to get my shoes on? On, and on, the worries flowed…

Fortunately, the need of the Porcelain Throne arrived then, with the usual request from the innards, stabbing pains and a little inner-rumblings. Without delay, I got the camera and four-pronged walking stick, and hobbled to the wet room, with a degree of alacrity.

Oh, dearie me! What a session it was! Good and bad luck involved. I only just got there in time, (but thankfully did!) before things started to painfully and slowly evacuated of there own accord, I had no control over this whatsoever. Masses of pongy, sticky, messy product. Bleeding as well. I shan’t go too far into this (although I may have already done so, sorry). The cleaning things up was a long job, and the washing and medicating stung a bit. Hehehe!

I took a shot of the painful uncut toenails, and wondered if they will be cut when I get back from the Health Centre? I hoped this would be the last photo of my Howard Hughes feet.

Another thing I noticed was how flipping pale I looked, really anaemic! This may be the thing that will prevent them from treating my feet and cutting the nails. I have a horrible feeling about this, today’s hassle to get out, is going to be a waste of time! Surely they cannot make me wait until November at the Sherwood Health Centre? If so, it will be over a week since, so I’ll have to book again, and obviously, the available date will probably be in December or January!

I got to the kitchenette and took a shot of the blue-tinged (or should that be blue-hued?) sky. Got the kettle on, and the Health Check gear out of the medical drawer.

The dang thermometer was playing up again, all I could get on the readout, was ‘Low’, no figures.

But the sphygmomanometer readings were perhaps the best for months. Which doesn’t fit with my skin and body mass being so pale and ghostly looking?

Computer Cameron on, and updated this blog.

Turned off everything, and checked the face mask, money for the taxi, bus pass to get home, socks and shoes (hopefully) to put on (for the first time in months) after the treatment, in the trolley. But I was not confident I’d checked everything. It’s been that long now since I’ve been out anywhere, I felt nervous at the thought now? Silly old sausage!

Then I got the ablutions sorted out, early, thus allowing myself extra-time to have another check after the ablutionalisationing, for things I’m sure I’d not remembered. A touch of anamesia there?

Off to the wet room. (Which still had the Porcelain Throne activities aroma lingering – Cor!) I had a stand-up, teggies, shave, and wash. I did the feet stood in the bowl. A couple of nicks shaving, and only three dropsies all together! I need some more razors, I’ll see if I can get some after the Clinic if it goes well.

I prepped four waste bags and took them to the waste-chute. It was a bit awkward getting through to the chute room, as the decorators were starting work on my floor.

The lobby is looking better already!

I returned to collect the big bag of recycling waste and departed again to take the stuff down to the caretaker’s room. As I was on the way down in the lift, the cage stopped on the 9th floor, and a contractor bloke nearly got on, until he saw me in there. Naughty! Using the tenant’s elevator when we can’t use their dedicated one? But, to be fair, I’ve seen no-end of tenants using the wrong lift! So, fairs, fair! Hahaha!

The weather was little wet this morning, and seemed to be getting worse? I dropped the bag off at the bin, and the caretakers said something to me, but I didn’t catch what it was. They weren’t scowling or glaring at me, so I assumed I’d done nothing wrong. Hehe! Gave them a smile, and returned to the lobby and back up the elevator.

As the lift door opened, I struggled to get through back to the flat. Took my time and carefully worked my way through, without any hassle. Into the flat, and checked on things, taps, lights, stove etcetera, in readiness for my departure.

I looked out of the balcony window, as I pondered on whether to risk brewing myself a mug of tea or not. In the end, I decided against having a drink. Better safe than sorry, especially with the current PMPD & PMAD dribbling problems, and my going out, as well!

The precipitation was getting more substantial, and things went suddenly very dark?

I reappraised my arrangements and what I’d got done in advance, worried that I may have missed something. Checked the jacket pockets for the bus pass, keys, taxi money, note from Jenny etc., and timed it to get down for the taxi with fifteen minutes to spare. As usual, being the fussbudget, worrier and doomster that I am, I rechecked the flat for the umpteenth time, before my leaving, but still in an uncertain frame of mind. I knew something ‘botheration-wise’ was going to take place, no doubt about that! I’m not a soothsayer, necromancer or Augur, it’s just my EQ (Not IQ), was telling me of foreboding news in the offing today, and he has never-ever wrong!

I got down to the ground floor and spotted that there had been a change of some sort in the Fire-Riser. But what is was, I couldn’t decipher. I’m losing it here, methinks?

I got to the front lobby and waited for the arrival of the DG cab. A black Hackney cab arrived five minutes before the DG on due, and I assumed it was for someone else. The driver came to me and asked if I was Gerry. He was for me. He was a lovely chap and helped me into the cab, and we soon at the Health Centre. He drove carefully en route. He dropped me off as close as it was possible to the entrance doors, bless him.

I paid him, thanked him and made my way into the clinic, as the rain started to come down heavier again.

I entered and followed the written advice on the advice on display, to use the hand sanitiser on entry. I made my way to the reception counter, and the young lady greeted me before I could speak with, ” Are you, Gerald Chambers?” – “Yes”, I said – ” Sit over there!” She said – “Thank you, I said. And sat over there. Hehehe!

Well early, of the appointment time, so I got the crossword book out. Moments later, a young lady came towards me, “Are you, Gerald Chambers?” “Yes!” “Follow me!” So, I did.

I could tell there was bad news coming. She went through a question and answer routine, and took the feets blood circulation test, with four blobs of jelly, two each foot. The disappointing news was given to me while she was cutting the toenails. There are new rules, and I don’t qualify for NHS nail-cutting, anymore, as my circulation in the feet is okay. I’ll have to use a private chiropodist in future.

I explained, that with the Coronavirus, maybe, I’ve had three podiatrists refuse to cut my toenails, last week. I told her how the Warden of the complex had rung them for me. This made no difference, the new rules have to be adhered to. (I expected something like this!) The lady gave me a place to ring or go to on the internet. Obviously, there are many other senile-sufferers in my position and agony with their feet.

Still, it’s not the ladies fault. She woman (in face mask and shield helmet, by the way, hiding a most appealing pretty face) did say I’d brought up a valid point, and she would mention this to her ‘boss’, but I was not to expect too much in the way of success. Haha!

I thanked her muchly and hobbled out into the rain. But I was not overly-disappointed at all. For I knew something was going to go wrong today, my good old EQ knew too!

I decided to have a walk into town in the drizzle. Apart from passing some characters that I knew were of a threatening nature, and made me weary, the hobble to the City Centre was enjoyed greatly. It’s been so long since I did this, it seemed a pleasure, especially as the toenails had been trimmed, and walking was so much less hassle now.

The going did get a little rough by the time I got to the end of St Ann’s Well Road, as the left side brakes of the three-wheeled-walker-guide, had now packed up altogether. Hey-ho!

Within half-an-hour I was on Upper Parliament Street. Crossing George Street, a git of a pavement cyclist almost got me! He plodded on uncaring up George Street, which like everywhere else, seemed most baron of tellurians, understandably.

I bought a packet of red and green seedless grapes from a stallholder. I’ll split this with Josie later. Then I can make sure she doesn’t wake me up to bring back the dinner tray and things again. I hope!

I passed the Wilko store, as a security guard was stopping folks going in without a face-mask on (Naughty!) I made my way into my beloved Poundland shop, and had a good look around, and selecting things I fancied.

When I got to the self-serve tills, I had a few dropsies and felt a right fool – which was guaranteed by Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley’s antics! I’d bought; A Pork Farms pork pie, Zoflora and a cheaper variety of disinfectants (3), lemon bleach (2), Bic razors, Individual milk pots, Lemon & cucumber scented air freshener (2), and a packet of 6 BBQ flavoured mini-cheddars. A lot of which got in the bag via a trip to the floor! (Thanks to Shirley! Huh!) I’ve never seen so few customers in the place!

I paid with cash, and the change also had a trip to the floor. Suddenly I had help arrive! But not all of the change monies were rescued. Humph!

Getting out and controlling the trolley was not an easy task, and my stopping to take photographs caused a few near-accifauxpas, as the brakes were so unreliable.

I made my way stutteringly to Milton Street and the Bargain Buys, previously known as the PoundStrechers. As I arrived, the heavens opened up! Just in time eh! Hahaha!

I consulted my shopping list I’d made for this shop. Pakistani Potato Cakes, 6 x small cans Garden Peas, Egg Mayonaisse, Woolite liquid soap, vegetable Oxo cubes, a lemon and a lime cooking juice, Zoflora lemon, and 3 chocolate almond. I realised I was going to have a heck of job carrying all of these, with the two baf=gs I had on the handlebars already. Oh, dearie me! As it happened I had no problems at all? They only had the Woolite and one pack of chocolate almonds on sale. Tsk!

This bothered me more than the podiatrist let-down! I paid the lady at the checkout and somewhat miserably made my way through Trinity Square.

Still, the rain almost stopped, and I had a great photographicalistical few moments, snapping all around where I stood in Trinity Square. Again, a lack of people! I limped down to Parliament Street and snapped the Frankie & Benny food store on the corner of King Street. Only three customers as I could see in there.

Then walked down towards the City centre, and back up Queen Street to find the times of the buses back home. This was the first time I’d had a choice of buses to make. The L9 was due in five minutes later, the 40 bus was fifteen minutes from arrival time. So, I trudged up the hill to the L9 stop. One other lady was waiting. The bus arrived, the driver got out for a fag, we waited, and then the uncommunicative pauciloquent driver, got on, managing to issue two words to the lady and me; one of them was Huh! Bless him! Probably in line for Driver of the Year?

I struggled to stay awake on the trip back, only one person boarded en route, making a total of three passengers!

I dismounted and ambled through the warm rain along Chestnut Walk, back to the flats. I thought of poping in the office and asking Riechsfuhreress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana if she would ring about the podiatrists for me. But I realised she would be on her nosh, so didn’t bother her, I’ll try again later on.

I got in the block of flats, spotting the updated list of working areas. Then had a bit of a wait to get the tenant’s elevator to get to me.

DeanaThen I noticed the time on the electronic display board. It was earlier than I thought it was, only 11:34 hrs.

I got up to the flats. Put the purchases away, and called at Josie’s with the grapes, and she gave me the tray back. Maybe this week, I can get to sleep and stay asleep! Fingers crossed, that Herbert is quieter.

Back to the flat, and planned some cooked beef cobs with extras (tomatoes, egg mayonnaise etc.) for the meal later.

Then got on with updating this post. In between satisfying unusual urges for mugs of tea?

The Vampire Nurse Hristina called, (lovely to hear a friendly voice) and told me she would be calling to do the blood test tomorrow, twixt 08:00 > 10:00hrs. Marvellous! I pressed on updating, despite Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters playing up and costing me a lot of time.

Great balls of fire! I’ve been at this blogging for over five-hours now! How time flies!

I like missing the toenail pains! Haha!

Better pack up and get the nosh sorted out. I did some part-baked cobs, buttered them and added sliced tomatoes and a slice of cooked beef to each one. On the disposable plate, sliced apple, some grapes, egg mayonnaise, and chicken thighs (Which were not eaten, eurgh!) Flavour rating 7/10.

Went to wash the pots, as the clouds turned threateningly dark suddenly.

After the long day, an enjoyable bit of exercise, the let-down over the podiatrist, and how worn out I felt, I hoped I would get to sleep easier tonight.

Not so! Humph!

Inchcocksi – Saturday 25th July 2020: Chinwagless! Humph!

TFZer Beauty Marie, (with Inchcock showing interest!) Haha!

Saturday 25th July 2020

Dutch: Zaterdag 25 Juli 2020

01:30hrs: I stirred gently and slowly into imitation-life. Rather surprisingly, not needing a wee-wee?

The brain wasn’t all that interested in operational duties for a while. I disentangled my over-stomached body from the second-hand, c1968 rickety recliner. That my xyrophobia suffering, over amour propred Brother-in-law Pete broke, when he was searching the flat while I was in the hospital with the Stroke, and taking my valuables, he took a rest. Fatal! He could not resist the electrics, and Pete played with them. Now the recliner no longer works! 

I caught my balance (it wasn’t too good this morning for some unbeknown reason). And wobbled off to the kitchenette, almost on auto-pilot. I got the kettle on and did the health checks. The BP SYS as a little high again. Sorted the small tablets out and identified the Furesomide and removed it (At least I hope I got it right). Took the medications and was drinking the mug of Glengettie tea and wondering if it was worth trying to take an early morning photo if the dark, dank view outside.

  Then, with surprising suddenness, I had to hobble-hastily to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). A bit of a blaster-mode this wee-wee was! And a long one too! There was none of the PMPD (Post-Micturition Pre-Dribble). Still, a plentiful supply of embarrassing PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribbling), so much of it, I nearly started counting the cracks on the ceiling, while I whistled! Unfortunately, it caught me out, a few drops of late-dibbling took place. In-Depth-Ignominy-Mode-Engaged!

Then, the innards gave me a poke, which told me I needed to get to the Porcelain Throne, which I did, without any delay. The most painful for weeks affair! But it was not a long job, no bleeding, and aroma didn’t make me feel hazy this time. Hahaha!

The toes and feet for worse than yesterday morning, of course, the nails were longer. And the fungal nail infection on the right foot was more evident. More painful too!

I silently prayed that the St Anns podiatrist will see to me on Monday and not refuse to do-me, because of my ailments (Issues, they call them), like they did, last August! I’m not confident about this in the least.

I took the opportunity to change the PP’s. Knowing that I will need to replace them again when I do the ablutions, I put on one of the smaller ones I had to hand, for the time being. I hope I don’t get any Diabetes Insipidus leaks, or Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeds in between!

The brain was working again, as well as it ever will methinks, and a determination to get the updating done rose forth! Three wee-wees (each of the LPT (Long-Persistent-Type), two cups of Thompsons Punjana tea, and hours later, I finished the updating. Phew!

It was looking a little bleak out there. But no rain yet awhile.

I posted the Friday blog to WordPress, Emailed the links, and went on Facebooking catch-up, and that took me over two hours! Then onto the WordPress Reader section. Pinteresting. Time to get the ablutions done, back in a while.

I’m back!

The ablution session was sorrowfully a painful one,  but entertaining! Hehe!

  • The teeth cleaning went well, no bleeding, Toothache Thomas was only mildly bothersome!
  • Putting the tube and brush back on the side-trolley. The exact moment my right hand steadied the trolley for me to reach over to return the stuff to the tray with my good left hand, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley gave me a good rattling, and the trolley wet over! Isn’t it amazing how much stuff you can squeeze into and onto a bathroom tray? It took me yonks to retrieve it all! Cragnangles!
  • The shaving consisted of far too many dropsies. Razors repeatedly, after-shave (used as a bleeding-stopper) and the foam can twice.
  • And on another occasion, I was shaking the can of foam, and off it flew via the North wall, back down, off of the sink and onto the sock-glide, hit the shower tiles, landed and rolled gently back to my feet and stopped, like a trained little dog! This was the entertaining part. I had to smile at it! Haha!
  • As I got into the shower, I tripped on the mat I had only myself to blame, I’d not left it in the usual position I do when showering. Pillock!
  •  The showering itself was almost perfect! No dizzies, no banging into the grab-bars, no dropping the showerhead, and the curtains didn’t get stuck on closing them! T’was good! I felt good at the time!
  • Furthermore, no toe-stubbings, throughout the whole showering operation!
  • Drying off my baby rhinoceros jelly-like flabby-bellied body was incident and escapade-free!
  • I’ll not go into detail on this one, to embarrassing; I had severe bother when I used Little Inchies fungal lesion cream, on Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Suffice to say, Blubber-Argh! Grigglecocks! I have now moved the Phimosis Plato, and Paraphimosis Patrick’s clobetasone butyrate corticosteroid cream out of the way! I must remember where to, so I’ll mention where it was placed here – Inchcock: It’s on the bottom tray on wetroom trolley! Try not to forget, mush!
  • The old legs didn’t look too bad.

The dreaded ‘Hum’ was getting so loud again, as I started on doing this blog. I persistently persisted, and got as far as here, and had to go on CorelDraw again to get some graphics done in advance.

Oh, no, I’d better do the template first. I must get caught up for Monday, which I anticipate being a busy day, full of frustrations at the Health Centre, and no time to get much computerisationing done! Done it, back to CorelDrawing!

By Jimminy, the rain cometh down now!

I had some tap-tapping and knock-knocking noises from above to keep me company.

The familiar post meridian weariness and drainage of enthusiasm, frolicsomeness, and will-to-bother came over me, and I decided to get a meal made up then get in the recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus.

Well, the nosh was a super-tasty one! Beef pasty, potatoes, egg mayonnaise, beetroot & carrot,  tomatoes, and a mini-pork & pickle pie. An individual lemon mousse and apple pie to follow. I lip-smackingly enjoyed this effort!

Washed the pots, and settled into the £300, second-hand, c1968, not-working, uncomfortable, rickety recliner. I felt so tired, there was no need for me to put the TV on to send me off to kip. My tiredness alone will soon see me off in the land of Nod! I thought!

An hour of Thought-Storms, they were mostly of the guilt, self-hatred, and shame mode. Then I moved on to worrying about Monday’s trip out to the podiatrist at St Ann’s Health Centre. I put the TV on, for sleep was not attainable.

I was getting nowhere with my designs for sleep, and I decided to remove my magnificently honed and toned, super-fit, woman-desired, muscular body from the none-working recliner, and replenish the spring water bottle. 

I stubbed my toes en route to the kitchen! I whimpered a bit, and returned to the recliner immediately, took a pain killer, and tried to get some pain gel on the toes.

This proved to a farcical effort, I’ll tell you why; I got some gel on a paper towel, grabbed it with the picker-upperer, and tried to apply it to the two toes affected. This didn’t go well! Thanks to Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley’s most untimely attack, I gelled part of the foot, shin, carpet, hands, and the recliner, I’m not sure if any gel actually got onto the stubbed toes! Cragknackles!

I didn’t bother with getting any of the spring water! But sleep now seemed an impossibility. So I put the TV back on (desperate now!) in the hopes that the commercials would send me off.

Which they did in the end, but I had to a few more hours.

Worra life!

Inchcocksi – Friday 24th July 2020: Incomprehensibly, a Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas shortage today. Most disconcerting!

TFZer Actress & Ballerina Eve

Friday 24th July 2020

Croatian: Petak, 24 Srpnja 2020. Godine

03:30hrs: I woke up requiring a widdle, and de-wedged my overly sized stomach-burdened body from the c1968 rickety recliner. With some haste, there was a chance of some Post-Micturition Pre-Dribbling, I could sense it, so hurriedly, I moved to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket)…

Too late, I’m afraid! Starting a day like this with an Accifauxpas three minutes of waking up, was not a good start!

Off to the wet room for a good clean-up, and a change of PP’s. Then to the kitchenette and got the kettle on. Taking a photo that did not come out anything like what the eyes saw, of the kitchen windows. Will anything go right today? Pickletorment!

The sphygmomanometer readings were very close to the ones that were for last Friday! Not too bad. The temperature, taken on the old stick thermometer (the new one has packed up on me, Tsk!), showed a ‘Low’ again.

I took the morning medications and made a brew of Morrisons Extra-Strong Assam tea. I had a bit of good-luck then! (Oh, yes!) As I limped to the cupboard to put back the BP machine, I trod on a piece of broken pottery from last night’s dropping of the milk jug! And did not cut my foot, no bleeding at all. Swank-Mode-Assumed!

I got the computer on and checked the diary for today. The only thing on it was the Iceland Food Delivery, twixt 08:00 > 10:00hrs. Only two items unavailable this time. I was feeling guilty about getting the cake anyway. Haha! So, I must get a stand-up ablutions session before 07:00hrs to make sure I’m available just in case they arrive earlyish.

I made a start on updating yesterday’s diary. After an hour or so, during which the ‘Hum’ outside had grown so loud, I could hear it easily without any hearing aids in, I made another mug of tea, Thompsons Punjabi. Took this snap of Chestnut Walk, it came out decent enough. Then sent the post off to WordPress, Emailed the links. Made up a template for this blog, then got on with writing it, and it was almost a pleasure!

But where and why Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters, Shaking Shaun, Saccades Sandra, and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had gone, I couldn’t understand? No doubt they’ll be back again, they always are. But I made the best of this medical-marvel, and typed away better than I have for ages! I really enjoyed these two-hours of freedom from some of the ailments. I believe, for a short time, I was almost happy! Oh, Yes!

As I started on the WordPress Reader, things got back to normal, I’m afraid. Shirley and Nicodemus both reactivated. Tsk! Off to the wet room now, to get the ablutions tackled! Back in a bit.

I’m back! The poor-old plates and toes are looking doughier, more livid, and anaemic than ever. A bit much to contend with. Even wearing the slippers a is painful and uncomfortable. Wearing the shoes and mask on Monday for the trip to the Health Centre podiatrist, is going to be a challenge, let alone getting the boots on! Expuslivications!

Anyway, the ablution session was a mixed one, good and bad involved.

  • The teeth cleaning as going well, until, towards the end, I caught one of the rear molars, as Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters lost sense of touch, and I pressed too hard.
  • The amazing thing is that I had no pain for several minutes, then the nerves sent the message to the brain. By that time, I had finished doing the teeth and was putting on the shaving foam.
  • The agony shot from the tooth, and I dropped the foam can, and it landed on my toes! Argh!
  • The shaving went well, only one little nick on the neck!
  • No toe-stubbings!
  • No Dizzy Dennis visits!.
  • Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley made me drop the towel and knock a few bits off of the floor cabinet in trying to catch it before it hit the deck.
  • As I was leaving the wet room, I lunged a bit to the right as I lost balance, and somehow or other, did not make any contact with the door frame edge or wall?

One of my better ablutionalisations. Overall, an interesting session, I’ve had many worserer ones! Hoity-Toity tendencies triggered!

I got dressed and was ready in case the Iceland delivery arrives. I started to get some waste bags done up, with additional cardboard box ones, to go to the rubbish chute. Stacked them ready for after the food arrives. I don’t want to risk taking them yet and missing the delivery on the intercom.

Carried on with the updating of this blog. Half-an-hour later, the intercom buzzed, and I let in the Iceland man. He was up in a jiffy, and he put the bags in the doorway for me. I took them through to the kitchen. There didn’t seem to be many bags this time? I checked the list and sorted it through checking the goods. Did the few freezer items first, all three there, and then spent about fifteen-minutes trying to make room to get them in the freezer! Haha!

Got the apple pies in the cupboard with the tinned potatoes and instant mash.

The fridge carrier, well, there were two of them, was sorted then. Steak slices, vine tomatoes, Pork & Pickle pork pies, mushrooms, cooked roast beef slices, satays, dessert pots, beetroot salad, potato salad, egg & mayonnaise salad, and to my surprise, some cooked chicken thighs.

I can’t really recall ordering them. But then, I can’t remember where the flat keys are, what I had for dinner yesterday, or what I was about to do as I left the kitchen? Sad, innit?

I got the rubbish bags, not the big recycling one, just the six little ones that will go down the chute, and out to take them there. A lady decorator was in the lift lobby, and she kindly took them off of me, saying she’ll take them for me because some steps and barriers were near the chute-room door. I thanked her muchly! Then hobbled back to the apartment. Kind of her!

Made myself a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. And the milk had gone orf! Humph! Made another and used the new pots of milk. Then back on the computer, to update it as far as here. Then went on Facebooking. Got the latest Coronavirus figures.

Not so good, is it?

I was feeling a bit peckish, as you do, like. And wondered about having soft brown Thins with Marmite for nosh later? But, what do I have with ’em? After some faffing about trying to make my mind vacant up, I thought some sausages and baked beans? But I left, making my mind up until later. What a ditherer I am! It took a while, but being as I have peas left in the pan from yesterday, I’ll have them, tomatoes, and Marmite sarnies! I think?

Then, onto CorelDraw to do a couple more TFZer header graphics. Slow going again, but I got two done.

The doorbells chimed out merrily with the tune of Dusty Springfield’s ♫ I Only Want to Be with You ♫.  I struggled to get some clothes on.

I shot like a bolt-of-lighting to answer the door. Well, alright,  I hobbled less slowly than usual, anyway, Hehe! An envelope was through the letter-box, I opened the door, no one in sight.

Jenny, bless her ♥, had made and printed up a clear note for me to take with me on Monday, to show to the podiatrist, in case Stuttering Stephany took a grip on me. (At this point, I thought I must ask Jenny if she has any idea how much the taxi fare will be, so I can make sure I have enough with me). I got on the telephone to thank her and ask Jenny if she had an idea what taxi fare might be. But of course, I forgot to ask about the cab, I was too intent on thanking her for her kindness. I am a klutz!

Weary William fell on me so quickly, I set about making the evening’s (to me, any normal person it would be afternoon tea! Hahaha) meal.

Two mini-pork & pickle pork pies, (say that when you’ve had a few, Haha!). Piccolo tomatoes, canned garden peas, egg mayonnaise, beetroot & carrot salad, and four brown bread thins with lashings of gorgeous Marmite.

The red grapes and apples I intended to have, turned out just apples. (The red grapes had all gone gooey and had to be discarded, Tsk!) So I had a mousse and little apple pie instead. Two individual milk pots, to take the tablets with. A flavour rating of 8.2/10!

I ate all of this odd feast slowly as I watched the TV, feet up on the swivel chair. The eye-lids drooping, trying to stay awake another fifteen-minutes to view the Kitchen Nightmare program.

I nodded-off, and woke up as the programme was just ending! Tsk! I forced myself up to get the pots washed and have a wee-wee and crawled back into the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-sickening beige-coloured, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety recliner.

After a couple of hours Thought-Storming, with the odd minute-long nod-off, I’m glad to report… Zzzz, Sweet Morpheus arrived! And most appreciated he was!

Inchcock Today – Thursday 23rd June 2020: A good job I don’t suffer from atychiphobia!

TFZers at the Ball?

Thursday 23rd June 2020

French: Jeudi 23 Juin 2020

03:20hrs: On stirring back into ersatz-life, the urgent need for a wee-wee, forced me out of the c1968 recliner, up onto my pins, lunged for the walking stick, and to try to avoid any urge incontinence, as quickly as I could manage it, hobbled over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). The mode of wee-wee had changed back to an OSUAD (Orangey-Sprinkly-Unpainful-After-Dribble) type for once. Which was welcome. The PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribble), was less.

I went to put the kettle on and tried taking decent snaps of the dark morning view.

Then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived with the usual stagging tummy pains. This time it was followed this some nervous-making escapages of wind. So, another nippy-limp was required, to the wet room. This photo of my arm is a mystery to me! I found it on the SD later. Why I took it, or if it was another mistaken-taken one, well? It on the SD card, between the morning sky shot and the hemadynamometer picture, so I must have taken it in the kitchenette?

The Throne Session went better than it has done for weeks. Painful, yes, but they always are since the stroke. Not too pungent or pervasive, only specs of blood, and it was all over so quickly. Yee-Ha! I washed my dandies and contact areas and back to the kitchen.

I made a mug of Extra Strong Assam tea and left it to brew stronger. Then got the Health Checks done. Starting with the BP sphygmomanometer. All the readings looked good!

The new thermometer would not work, I changed the batteries, and this made no difference whatsoever. Kroinkles! I used the old stick one that just showed as ‘Low’. I’m not sure it’s ever showed anything else since I bought it. Hehehe!

I also found this photo on the SD later. Why I took it, or if it was another mistaken-taken one, well?

It was taken before the BP one? Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The energumen Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing-entities, Fire alarms I cannot hear, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s annoy and scare the hell out of Inchcock mission?

I was worried a bit, in case I’d been having memory-blanks again. The way my mind is this morning, it’s a good job I’m writing everything down, recording notes to use on here.

For some reason, this brought thoughts of St Anns Health Centre visit for the podiatrist, next Monday. Specifically, when I came out of the Nursing Home after the Stroke, and couldn’t get my toenails cut then, a nurse phoned them at this place and booked me in. I had to get an early bus to get there.

I arrived with the walker, it took what seemed ages and a long way around the route to get into the place (See photo above). Steps I couldn’t climb didn’t help! Then, they refused to do my toenails, I had too many ‘issues’!

What chance do I stand now? I’ve been diagnosed with diabetes, axonotmesis neurotmesis neuropraxia. Also, the neurotransmitter nerves dying all down my right side. Saccades since my last failed visit? And am having troubles with the INR blood level! So what chances do I have of them cutting my nails this time? The Sherwood Health Centre, who usually do me, but cannot book me in until November 28th, with the queue of people in the same boat as I am, told Deana to try St Anns. My spirits sank at the thought.

Looking at the plates of meat, I felt even less confident. They look so anaemic and bloodless, and the toenails, surely they will see the agony they are causing me, and help me out with a little clipping? Mmm!

This may sound like an old, pathetic, sad, not-coping very well geezer’s desperate plea for help. That’s because it is! Gragnangles!

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjabi tea, the last one went cold. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley made me spill the milk. Flagtoggles!

I took several photographs of the view outside, the lighting with the sun slowly coming up from behind, and some grey clouds, I thought, gave them a differentness? The last one was taken from the pod (balcony). The white spot on this one, is a reflection of the light bulb – I think?

When I got on the computer, it became glaringly evident that Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters were starting to play up again. Ever-correcting and making mistakes. So frustrating and time-consuming. But I got on with the job, finally, hours and three wee-wees later, I got it finished and posted it off to WordPress.

Off to make another brew, Glengettie Gold this time (one of my few pleasures in life – are you crying at my patheticness yet? Hahaha!)

I went on Amazon to do some bought product revues. The so-called lemon disinfectant, I gave Two Stars. The Hoisin sauce, I gave five (top).

It was late enough now, for to bother Jenny, and ring her for help with arranging the taxi for Monday. Stuttering Stephanie visited me, Tsk! Jenny said ‘No Problem’, and she would get back to me when sorted. Bless her!

I went to get a rinse, and minutes later, Jen rang back. She had made the pick-up for 08:45hrs, to be on the safe side for me get there in good time for the 09:10hrs appointment. Knowing of my lack of confidence in getting the toes cut at that place before, she reminded me to tell them that the Sherwood Health Centre informed Lap-top dancer and Warden Deana, to ring St Anns when they could not fit me in. Which I will do, thanks, Ma’m.

I forgot to mention to Jenny that I had ordered some Self-Raising flour for her on Morrisons order for next Tuesday, and also forgot to ask her if she’d be kind enough to make a note for me like she did last time, in case Stuttering Stephanie kicks off when I’m in the taxi. So, I rang Jenny back, told her about the flour, and forgot all about asking about the note. Puggleclump-dimwit! 

I went on the long-overdo Facebooking catch-up. Then on the WordPress Reader section.

But, necessitation, necessitated the need of new graphicalisationing needing to be done. Or the IAABW (Inchcock Alamalgated Association of Blog-Waffling) will come to an end! So, onto CorelDraw, to make some up. Hehe!

Getting the meal prepared, and with his usual perfect timing, my Xyrophobia suffering, over amour-propred Brother-in-law Pete, rang, to update me on his treatment process.  He’s going back in the City Hospital on Monday for eight-hours of being micro-waved! It’s a big thing for the lad, but he sounded pretty-much ready for it. He may go home ‘Glowing!’, and aliens might try to contact him through the ether!  Hehe!  So this soon put me in my place, Monday, the same day as I’m going hopefully anyway, to get the toenails and feet treated, Pete’s going into the hospital to get fried, irradiated, and chat up the nurses for eight hours. Hahaha!

Best of luck, Pete, don’t fret, but I know you will. I remember when you fell asleep and fell off of the settee arm, and broke your neck! (The things you’ve done to get all of your sick-pay allowances! Hahaha!) Jane will be waiting, so you must get back safe, mate!

I got the nosh prepared and served up.

Two beefburgers, canned potatoes, tinned garden peas, tomatoes, two part-baked rolls. Apple and red grapes, followed by a fruit mousse.

I got the pots washed and had an attack from Dizzy Dennis while doing so! I am now back to one milk jug, the pretty tall one, bit-the-dust, as it hit the floor and shattered! Picking the mess up was not a pleasant task, pain-wise! Crigglebonkitis!

Got settled, and once again, Sweet Morpheus was unwilling to enfold me.