Things stirred back to reality at 05:25hrs, after 6 hours of sleep and various periods of jumping awake. Making a total time being awake of two hours. Does that make sense? Sorry if not.
According to the best I can make out from the scribbled memory notes, the next occurrence was; P.Tarone Enight? Beats me!
I rose like a tried elephant from the c1968 second-hand recliner, grabbed walking stick Metal Mickey, and went to the wet room to get the Ablutions done.
But my dithering nature interfered, and I took the waste bin out of the wet room, emptied the others and made up some waste bags. Took them to the flat door.
It was drizzling outside, and as I put the kettle on, I took a photo of the road to the left of the kitchenette window. Plenty of trees on it get fresh air.
It’s no wonder I’ve never seen a for sale sign on the beautiful looking Cavendish Vale.
The skies were, I thought, ripe for a few minutes of pareidolia. I’m keen on finding figures in the clouds. But on this occasion, I failed to find any. Humph!
Well, apophenia, finding figures in anything, creases, reflections, cracks in floor tiles, and bulging veins. I’m experienced in that one, having more bulging veins than most people.
I made the tea, went to put the milk in, but diverted back to getting the ablutioning done.
Well, once again, it was a fair session. Fair enough, a few teeny-weeny cuts shaving, but no knocks and bangs, dizzies, toe-stubbings or tumbles. I didn’t engage the Smug-Mode… it’s early yet.
I even got out through the door without any shoulder-charging of the frame… Yes, go on then;
Got the laundry bag sorted. Made another mug of tea for the one I let go cold, and Dizzy Dennis gave me a few moments of concern… only a short bout, maybe a minute at most. But it had me holding on to the stick and hastening to sit down. But Dennis disappeared, and I was fine when I stood up? There are no messages from EQ, but I think it may be another semi-harrowing day, somehow?
Sunday’s photograph of the messy mud-slide onto the end car park on Chestnut Way. It has been known for Cataract Kathleen to do this to me! I hope I’ve not put this one on before?
This is this morning’s shot of the same area. I found some more of the indecipherable scrawl on the memory pad here, not the foggiest of what it meant. Try as I did, it remains a mystery,
A sudden robust rumbling from the innards! I was all but too late, getting to the Throne in time in seconds. Trotsky Terence controlled the evacuation. Gawdawfull messy it was! Had to change the PPs (Protection Pants) I’d put on an hour ago! Ah, well, I got everything cleaned up.
Richard arrived late; he’d had a lousy shift, I think. The poor lad looked done in. He still had a look at the SD card for me. Putting it in and out to see if anything changed; and found that the card had split! He took the waste bags out with him for me, with my thanks.
I hope the new card works in the Canon and the reader accepts it. Praying here!I opened the card, full of hope and cut my finger on the plastic! Got it fitted in the camera (not the finger, the SD card), and I tried taking shots that I did yesterday to use here and test the system. Good heavens, it worked! So, I engaged in the use of the, with reservations. As you can see here, it worked.
Outside my Winwood Heights Independent Living block of flats, I hobbled out onto the balcony to look at what was. Conducted my Blood Pressure and temperature checks. SYS 154, DIA 68, Pulse 78, and the body temperature was a decent 34.1°c.
A couple of miles away, I took a zoomed-in shot of HMP, her Majesties Nottingham Prison. And thoughts and questions permeated through… “I bet they can see their prison Doctor or Dentist at any time?”, “They’ll get their cataracts done quicker than I get mine!” “They are not worried about the rent, electricity, food, transport, bus fares, etc. going up?” “Most likely, get their free computers mended for free!” They’ll not worry about forgetting to lock their doors either! Hahaha!
Gawd, he’s been at it again, almost one-stop since morning. Bang, tap-tap, scrape, thud, boing… I did not retaliate. After all, what is the point in haggling with the self-centred, impolite, insensitive, disrespectful, snobbish, haughty, pompous, pretentious, uppity, scoffing, contumelious, smart-alecky, and ineffable, cruel, unsympathetic, toffee-nosed, self-important, nyaff, noisy nasty man? As luck has it, I like him.
Far too ridiculously late, I made a start on this blog. Of course, something had to go wrong…
Am I the luckiest person on earth, I asked myself?
Of course not!
That honour must go to Steve Fries, the bigwig of Liberty Global, Whose inability to send an uninterrupted internet signal to Nottingham earns him $23 million a year!
Jealous? Me? Yes!
Miraculously, it was only down for a minute or so this time; I felt almost happy about it! Temporarily!
I thought I’d better check to see if any messages or missed calls had been received while I was so busy being mucked about my Herbert and Fries. Still, Herbert entertained me with some clattering-about sounds.
Could I find the phone? No! There was worry but no panic initially. All I had to do, was go through all of my jackets and trousers that I’d worn since I last used the mobile phone (whenever that was). I vaguely remember putting it in a pocket and saying, “Don’t forget that it’s in that pocket!”
Within about ten minutes, I settled for Thursday, when the foot lady texted me telling me I was late for my appointment again… that was in the brain box! I engaged my Sherlock Holmesian Methodology, and first, I worked out when I last went out. Now, what was I wearing? Maroon jacket? Blur jacket? Black trousers, or green trousers? Was I wearing my trousers – nobody said anything.
After a heated discussion with myself, I narrowed it down to the green or black trousers; and the red or blue jacket, all of which were in the laundry bag. Then thought, aha! (I do that sometimes), It might be in the pyjama bottoms, two pairs of them in the laundry. I almost felt confident as I went into the back room to search for the clothing in the bag… I should have known better at my age and after many years of failed memory training!
Well, now I was getting hot under the collar! I smugly checked through every pocket and the bag… not sausage in there. (Not that I was after one, of course, a figure of speech and all that).
A lengthy search in each room and all the clothes hanging up in the front room and the hallway proved a failure, with no mobile to be seen. Of course, if I knew my mobile number, I could ring it and hope I heard it to locate it. Although if it was in a pocket, as I still believed it was, I might not hear it anyway… I rang the desktop dancer and Warden Deana to ask if she could ring the mobile for me, but to was engaged… oh, that reminds me; she is six weeks away from getting married; bless her, and a lucky fellow too… I digress again, sorry. I do tend to do that a lot.
I rummaged, rooted and ferreted about, delving into the most unlikely of places, all to no avail. Then a spark in the brain suggested that it may have fallen and gone underneath the cabinet or recliner? Worth a look, so I did…
I got the torch and was leaning on the arm of the recliner to get low enough to check the sides, with my intentions bravely being, if no success, to get on my knees to look under the chair. But as I was leaning forward and on my left leg – perfect timing from the Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, who gave me a flailing right leg out of control dance… Which naturally had me on the floor in seconds. The spectacles are now in a precariously loose state of repair. Also, I’ve got two newly bruised knees and a red cheek from hitting the arm on the way down!
As I was recovering and considering how to get back up on my feet, Deana came in at just the perfect time! She got me up, made sure things still worked with the legs, and laughed at the (at the time unknown to me) red patch on the cheek that looked like a clown’s make-up! Hahaha! Not really, but she should have.
Deana rang my mobile. I couldn’t hear it. But she found it, under the cover on the back of the computer chair… in a jacket pocket! I am totally losing it, and a twit!
Well, worra day! Again! It’s nearly 1700hrs now, so sleep looks like being late tonight. This blog is not halfway through yet! I pressed on with it like a mini but fat hero, determined to get it up to date…
♫Oh, Susana♫ rang out. I hobbled to the door (It was a pronounced hobble, the right knee was in some pain, Tsk!) and found Josie returning the jar that held the two meals for yesterday. Bless her, I could not hear what she was saying, but plashed a smile, mentioning Betty Bunter, bless her.
Arrived, soon sorted. Then, I had a go at catching up on Facebooking. Then comments on WordPress.
Got the nosh started. It is now passed 21:00hrs. It’s been another gruelling day. I caught my hand on the oven dish as I took it out of the oven. I believe I said, “Bother!”
Veggie burger, fries, tomatoes and some sugar snap crap Ecuadorian peas. I realised a small stale cake and an out-of-date, but I could not see the date, and tasting it realised it was rancid. The banana was okay, though. However, despite these minor upsets, the flavour rating given was 6.5/10.
Had a wash, and when I came out to do the pot washing, the great sky looked to me just like an oil or water painting.
I took my time taking the last photo, as it was zoomed-in and getting the Canon camera to hold steady enough for a decent shot was not easy. I probably had to take six or seven tries to get this last one, which is not very good. But retains something about it that I like.
I deleted the old snaps on the new SD card. Thinking it would be less confusing for Kathleen’s Cataracts, Doreen’s Dementia and me. But no, I only deleted two that had not been put on the computer yet! Hehe!
Getting to sleep was nigh on impossible; well, it was. The Thought Storms rampaging through the brain, self-hatred, shame, fear… I was in the right state. It’d been a messy day, but why this? I put the TV on, but that didn’t send me off. Utter worn-outedness did it in the end, around about 02:30hrs!
Still, yers don’t like to complain, does yer?
Alto-Inchies Ode on Inchcock
I’ve been a bit worried about Inchcock for many a day, His brain has been loaded with worries & clamjamfry… Doreen’s Dementia is getting more and more on display! His memory is shot to pieces, bar some bits of scintillae, He’s had two falls, one on Sunday, another on Monday, His outlook, ideas and hopes become anachronistically… If they come at all, his writing is full of godwottery!
But it wouldn’t help if he won the lottery… He’s lost interest in anything financially… His nest egg dwindling, becoming almost eleemosynary, Worried over increases, rent, care, food, even his tea! Electricity, travel, all risen in price, becoming too costly… Will he get through it? There’s no guarantee… If he tops hissen, what’ll happen to me?
Alto-Egos don’t always have it this easy, Dominating Inchcock has been easy peasy! Where will they move me? What human will I accrue? Putin? His Alto-Ego could resign, but will he do? I’d like to get at a human that’s evil, bloodthirsty! For I fear I’ll get another docile twit like Inchie.
I reluctantly woke at 05:30hrs, and after a few minutes of determinate efforts to nod off again, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I was cruelly forced to get up!
I made my way to the wet room, pleased with how I was getting about, balance-wise. But was not too keen on how the Porcelain Throne evacuation went. Trotsky Terence had a more significant say in things. Thus it was messy and a semi-splurting affair. Needing a lot of cleaning up doing after the event.
I decided to get a stand-up wash, teeth, medicationing and shave, etc. done as I was there. The shaving well, well, one… just one nick on the chin. (The teeth cleaning I forgot to do, I did it later when I remembered).
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Arthur Itis knees, Colin Cramps’ hands and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were all medicated. I got dressed, thinking the Carer may soon be here.
Turned on the computer…
Boy, was I pissed off? YES, I was! Grrr! The thoughts of Liberty-Gobal’s Mr Fries getting so much salary and bonuses, and he can’t get an internet signal to work in Nottingham…
DOWN AGAIN
I turned everything off, leaving it for ten or fifteen minutes. Unplugged the lot. Then restarted the hub and, five minutes later computer. Gave it longer to sort itself out and into the kitchenette Humph! Stubbing my toe on the way against the server trolley wheel.
This is not going to be as short a dairy as I planned. My EQ had spoken, “Be prepared for a messy day! So I did!
From the depths of despair, I rose into flabberghastedness! Not only did the internet start, but when I slipped in the SD card – it worked the first time!!! So I got these photos from yesterday loaded to put on here. I didn’t get too excited, though, after I found that some were refused as ‘wrong format’, which they are not; I levelled off my mental state down to ‘Ah, well, I knew summat else would knacker things up!’ mode.
The first two are from the Health Checks, and the results were not too bad either. I’ve had much worse this week.
Oh, dear, now I’ve had to stop. Frustration, self-derogatory tongue lashings and self-hating had to have a few minutes with me! I realised I’d already put these on yesterday’s blog. Of course, I should have been blaming Dementia Doreen! But having to live with her, I didn’t want to make her angry with me! Hehehe! Good job that I didn’t lose more time and recognised that I’d posted them. But definitely, positively, no Smug-Mode was deserved!
When I made a brew and took this photo while doing so. The morning weather was how I felt, a smidge down, dank and not too hopeful. Hey-Ho! Hello, another trip to the Porcelain Throne was indicated…
2 So, off for the second visit of the day. Trotsky Terence was in even more control this time. The liquidifation of things was more advanced, which meant less need and time for cleaning up my delicate areas on the plus side! I used the minus side, which saved time cleaning up the splashed and liquid ricochets.
I took a photograph of the Winwood Heights, Chestnut Way, end car park. I was most concerned not to see RVM (Red-Van-Mans’) van parked on the yellow chevrons. In fact, I could not see it anywhere. He’ll be out at an AA meeting, his probation officer or visiting his mates in prison, mayhaps? Hehehe! Only joking! He’ll be working somewhere.
I pressed on with updating yesterday’s blog. Eventually, getting it done and posted. When I went to get a drink of spring water, I realised that it was beyond 09:00hrs. And no Carer had called yet. I’ll give them a little longer; usually, someone rings if they will be late?
I’m getting fed up with this – Haha! 3: I moved on to Facebooking the blog, went on the TFZer and Winwood Heights pages, read, and replied to some comments. After about an hour… back to the throne. The evacuated product was of a similar nature to the last visit. The jets of liquid were far more powerful… thus messy and needed cleaning again.
I got the bags into the kitchenette, ready to sort them out. I made a start on this blog, it was slow going, Doreen, and the brain’s concentration made things difficult for me. Then, the intercom rang forth and flashed. It was the Amazon shopper delivering my order. He even brought up the flowers first so that the bunches didn’t get crushed. Then he brought the rest up. Bless him.
I go the flower treats put safely stored from crushing, firstly. Today, the treats are for Deana, Julie and Jenny. I rang Jenny to see which one she fancied. Jenny opted for the centre bouquet.
The pink one. At least, I think the first two are pink. They’ve gone now, and I can’t remember the names, Tsk! Oh, yes, I can, one of them, the left one, Chrysanthemums! Sad, innit? My being colour blind and not a new thing that isn’t.
Around 1963 I failed a medical for a job on British Rail as a goods train guard. I found out that I suffered from protanopia – basically, I cannot identify reds from other close colours, orange, maroon etc. Then a couple of years ago, they told me I now (then) had dichromatism, having trouble identifying primary reds, greens and blues. Now I’d acquired Saccades in the right eye and glaucoma and cataracts. See what I mean? Hahaha!
Oh, heckythump, was I waffling on there! Sorry. Back to the diary…
I got the frozen things away. Vegetable burgers, iced orange lollies, potato bakes, potato bites and potato croquettes. I was pretty pleased with how I conjured around the stuff in the freezer to make room for the new stuff.
Then the fridge products, not many today, I intend to use up some of the canned foods. (We’ll see?). Tomatoes, sugar snap peas, mushroom pates, veg sausages, strawberry & grape pots to treats, that’s about it. Ah, no, well, yer see… I suppose you do… Those fresh cream French Horns? I blame one of my sweethearts on the TFZer Facebook page; I have a few. She just loves fresh cream French Horns, and when I eat one, it reminds me of Janet.
Janet and me in the photo here… in a dream I had! ♥ I’m off waffling again!
Cans of Chilli-Con-Carne, pots of jelly & custard, potatoes, fries, vegetable stock, tomato puree with herbs, a lemon, five bananas, a bottle of orange cordial, and a can of chilli soup make up the rest of the the the items purchased.
I got the fodder all stored away (The cupboards and freezer are close to cram-packed now). Then back on the blogging for an hour or two. Suddenly it dawned on me… nearly midday, and no Carer had arrived? I called Warden and Ballerina Julie and or Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell them the flowers are ready for collecting; if they can manage it. Julie answered and said she would come up to see me. I can mention the Carer missing again when she comes.
After making the call, I began to fear that I may have made an error. I was confused, and Dementia Doreen was making me fret; someone had called? I checked on the Meridian call register but could not read it with my eyes… I feared that if I say owt, and it turns out they have already been… I’m going to be regarded as a plonker of the first order? I took some faith that I was shaking a lot more than usual. The last time they failed to show, I’d gone so long without the medications; I got the shakes when they arrived. And boy, was I beginning to shake now! Yes, I was!
Back to my blogging, this is taking far too long. Interruptions of various sorts, and now Herbert had kicked off with his tap-tapping. He didn’t go on for too long. Oh, I think he just dropped something metallic, then!
Warden & ballerina Julie came in. I asked her if she would please take the flowers for Jenny, as I was expecting a delivery and call from the hospital, and she kindly agreed. I mentioned that I don’t think a Carer has been, and she said I was shaking and shuddering. Julie checked the Meridian log and said no one had been. She would mention it to them when she got back to the office. I thanked her, and off she trotted.
It then dawned on me why I’d ordered so much stuff for the freezer. Last week Richard said he would sort the dates of everything in the fridge and freezer for me. I knew I had some meat products I did not want and hoped that Richard would take them off my hands. So there will be plenty of room to get today’s stuff in it. But Richard had another call, and the lad was knackered from his shift yesterday and could sort the freezer for me. Hope he feels better and gets a good break. I’ll miss the lad, but glad he’s got a holiday to recover from his exhaustion.
I started blogging again, and someone from Meridian called me on the landline. She said they were very sorry about this morning, and a Carer is on their way to me now. I said thank you. Shame it had to happen for the seventh time since I’ve been paying them to come. Obviously, Julie had told them for me. Hey-ho, and pickle my walnuts!
Carer Valerie came into the flat, and she got my medications given. She asked me what happened with the morning’s Carer. I said I’ve no idea. Valerie said about me shaking a bit. I thought it had stopped, but apparently not. There is constantly shaking of some sort with Peripheral Neuropathy, but it was more violent this time and uncontrollable now. Thanked Val, and off she trotted. Within half an hour of taking the medicines, I think the shaking was back to normal.
I’m struggling to get the blog updated now. The concentration has been destroyed by all the complications of the day. I took the comfort of some sort in knowing things should calm down now… Did I say that?…
I got a text message, “Feet today!” reminder came in: The foot lady at the hairdressing salon told me it’s my day to have the feet done! Argh! No time to get nowt done!
4 Then it really irritated me that I needed Porcelain Throne visit number four! Just when I didn’t need it, I’m not going to be popular for keeping them waiting when I get down to the salon… mind you, I don’t expect I was before. Hehe! The evacuation was more liquified this time, but it was over quickly.
So, I fumbled and bumbled about again, and I got myself down to the ground floor salon. The looks I was greeted with said, “Oh, here it is, about time too!” They got the feet tended to, not without the odd ‘Argh’ emitting from my lips. I paid the £25, not cheap for getting one’s toenails done, but some other options are dearer. It’s terrible enough forgetting things, but then I gave my toe a stubbing against the airer as I went to get a quick wash. She gave me an appointment card, and I gave out some cans of treats. Then hastened ASAP back to the flat, fearing I may have missed the hospital’s call… Ain’t life a git some days? Well, most in my case!
Tried to get the blogging update advanced, and Valerie (the whisperer) came in the room, apparently talking to me as I typed away on the blog. Of course, I couldn’t hear her. She was returning the laundry. Treated to a little pack of grapes and strawberries. Bless her.
I put the oven on and, got some chilli on the pan, added some spirit vinegar to it and some peas. I’ve been assured that the spirit vinegar will lessen the sharpness of the chilli. After adding the peas and getting the hob going, I took a nibble. And it works! Yee-Haa!
17:15hrs The Evening Carer arrived. The morning caller was 7 hours late, and the evening one was an hour early. They must be having problems. However, the evening medications are mostly Warfarin blood thinners, Lansoprozole for Duodenal Donald, Codeine & Paracetamol pain killer, Ramipril, Peptic Antacid, and Atorvastatin Cholesterol inhibitor. The Folfiri has been stopped for six months to assess. A shame that I missed having the nurse call every day. Hahaha!
Turned everything off and got the nosh sorted out. Vegetable chilli con carnie, with cubes of potatoes done in the oven. Nice and crispy! I soaked it up with two of the wholemeal bread rolls.
Janet and my favourite fresh cream French horns were gobbled up after the meal. There was a smidgeon of guilt lingering though afterwards. Hehehe! A Taste and Flavour Rating of 9.3/10.
Washed the pots up and spotted the sun on its way down. Despite having a shaking bout at the time (again!), I managed to get two decent, just usable pictures of it.
I took three or four, but the others didn’t come out well. Although not as vivid as some, I thought these two represented a sort of sadness. Then again, nowadays, me not being convinced, confident, in or of something, is usual, the norm! I’m not sure why.
Got a wash, and I stripped off and got down into the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, musty, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.
Then the Thought Storms launched into activity. Starting off with just how good my EQ was this morning with his forecast for the day!
This day’s events have made me even more confident in the validity of my EQ assessments and warnings. For once, I have indubitableness! I must, and will, never doubt EQ’s veridicality again.
But the self-despising, guilt, shame, failure, and bad judgments flowed through the Thought-Storms. It took ages for them to slow down enough to let me get off to sleep. Humph!
ODE TO THE DAY
My EQ warned me as soon as I woke up this Friday…
That day was going to be frustratingly messy!
There was undoubtedly no festivity but a lot of fetidity,
Leaving me with panicky mental fatiguability,
The unexpected, or forgot about, and incongruity,
Doreen Dementia, making things go recalcitrantly,
At times, I just accepted my increasing insanity…
And after so many mishaps, by own banality!
I lost hours getting the Liberty-Global net back on,
I hate things technical, electric, mobiles and silicon…
Turned all off and then back on…
Somehow got it going again, thereon…
Which cheered me up, but just a fraction,
For EQ’s warning, it was like a klaxon!
The carer was late; they’d forgotten about me,
Delayed medications (6-hours), causing psychoactivity,
And I got the shakes, and sweats, all involuntarily,
Took the belated tablets, and soon less shaky…happily!
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies lesion, bloodily…
Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, and Peripheral Neuropathy…
Toe stubbing, painful Porcelain Throne evacuating…
Hopes for an improvement turned out to be delusorily!
Every happening seems to be unfair, conspiratorily…
With the pressure of not knowing, I shook more giddily,
I got more and more uptight, responding haughtily,
I was not coping with things, well I was… but badly,
Self-pity raised its head often, and depression, sadly
Five visits to the Throne, and, Oh, many a wee-wee!
I was faffling around, like Old Mother Riley,
Ways out and solutions were well beyond me…
I knew I was in for a long day… fiddle-dee-dee!
My thoughts and concentration, or lack of I say…
Were thataway, thereaway, thisaway, anyway…
Will this stampede of failure and confusion ever fade away?
I started to fret and worry over silly things, minutiae!
Unimportant, useless, unwanted confusing clamjamfry…
Will I ever recover common sense, memory or logicality?
Then a text message reminder was sent to me…
‘Feet Today’, Toe cutting, £25 more to throw away!
I’d forgotten about the feet, got down to the salon alreet,
Being late arriving, her greeting look was like a bleat…
Painfully had my toenails cut and oiled on both feet,
Gave them each can of plonk as a peacemaking treat
And back to the flat in a hasty retreat…
Where I made chilli, that was a pleasure to eat…
But sleep was resistant; that wasn’t so sweet!
Odes Scribed To Cause A Smile and-or Laugh – I fank you!
I’d just like to explain to you what happened. I thought I’d try it in odes, but after writing the poem below and reading it, that was maybe not such a good idea. So, I’ll tell yers, abarght wot happened:
Ocado had no ~Heinz burgers in stock again, so I ordered some frozen ones from Iceland to try. Which I did and got them cooked for the suggested length of time. And them to some baked beans in the bowl…
Not one of my des photographicalisations, I grant you. On top of the beans are the two ‘NoBull’ veggieburgers. They didn’t taste anywhere as lovely as the Heinz ones, but beggars can’t be choosers. I git into them and dipped the sourdough bread in the baked seasoned beans; I thought all was very passable… An odd choice of words, considering what was to follow…
This morning, I stirred around 04:00hrs, and a sort of gurgling from my innards caught my attention. No sooner had I got to my feet to catch my balance than it became clear that I needed to make way to the wet room and Porcelain Throne as a matter of some urgency. Which I did.
The evacuated torpedo was a little softer, although a lot larger than yesterday’s, but still not messy… painful, yes! Things needed a little cleaning up, and I used the Germolene on my rear end.
Back out and to the kitchen, tittivated around the kitchenette sink area, and made a brew of Thompson Punjana tea. I went back to the front room and got the computer on… And needed to hasten back to the Porcelain Throne again. ♫It’s not unusual to pass twice ♫ for me. I was surprised when I got down on the seat; the speed and splattering sound as the mish-mash landed. A lot of cleaning up was needed this time. Washed and back to the computer.
An hour later, session three was taken. Very watery, stinky and a lot of it. Where was it coming from? Why?
Another hour and trip number four was then needed. This time, embarrassment and shame… As I was whipping down the trousers, things started of their own accord and all (nearly) liquid! What a mess!!!
The morning carer arrived, and I hoped she could smell nothing; she didn’t say owt anyway, bless her. As she left, call number five started; I was not hesitating at all, and stubbed my toe, then hit my shoulder on the door to the wet room in my haste going in. I barely made it in time. At least there was not so much of it by now; there can’t be anything left there?
An hour or so later, I found there was something left in there, all liquid. There’s something oddly disturbing about sitting there expecting a torpedo, and all one can hear is liquid shooting into the water.
Summoning number six had a bit of body, and there was much less evacuated. Also, some of the real stuff (brown… well, no, more khaki, really, trickled out – so new PPs were used again. More cleaning and medicating, and back to the computer.
Number seven was short but not sweet! The splattering of some mud had to be cleaned up, and Germolening of the poor painful piles!
The last one, number eight (an hour ago), was noisy and back to the liquid format? Since then, no signs of the Throne being needed, but the wee-weeing has gone crazy suddenly?
Sorry, I just needed to tell someone.
ODE TO THE DAY
To listen to the radio, I need a headphone… Can’t hear anyone when they speak on the phone, I’m passing wind, sounds like a trombone? The innards are churning like it was a battle zone… Then came my first visit to the Porcelain Throne…
It was reluctant, the torpedo as hard as a stone! Seven hours later, I need a medical arbiter… Eight more visits, nine in total, stomach still aflutter! The last two evacuated more as water… My bum is sore, daren’t eat… I’ve felt a lot better… It brewing inside again; will it ever settle? So, should I snuff it and die, lackaday!
Remember veggie-burgers, and stay away… Resist eating them; I ate two NoBull ones yesterday… I shan’t be eating anymore anyway… Pain and queasy feelings of dismay, I may get over it, I dare say, someway… But I do feel grotty and giddy, Now there are bouts of going dizzy… I’ll do my best to press on anyway, I’ve the door wide open for a quick getaway… Crap-it, I need another one, instantly…
Was that the ninth or tenth? I flowed cruelly… Far less this time, or am I getting delusory? Or should word have been delusionally? I feel hungry but dare not try owt gastronomically! More food, make affects the innards to react harmfully? Making me rush to the Throne more frantically? I feel lethargic; the knees feel like jelly? Surely the shits like these will be temporary?
I said this ten craps ago, What to do? I don’t know… I’m bent forward, really low, Must look like Quasimodo? I speak, it sounds like Esperanto? Even my thoughts are akimbo… Is it safe to eat dry bread or sourdough?
The Trotskies seem like they’ve lasted for an eternity? They could drive me back to drinking whisky… Oh, better not, with the stomach so empty… I’m in pain, and dizzy, aching… no, really! Each evacuation today has shown consistency… I pray the next one will not show urgency… Or I’ll have to make a long-distance delivery – Hehehe!
ON WITH THE LOCAL NEWS SNIPPETS!
Treating it as a hate crime? Why? Yes, it is a hate crime, but why draw attention to it? Unless the scumbags can be prosecuted to a greater degree for hate crimes than any other, I’m all for it!
Another hate crime? What’s going on? I hope the poor devils coming to the UK, running from Putin’s bullies, don’t get such a welcome!
I assume from the facts as I read last week that Nottingham has more students pro-rater than any other City. Indeed, that has been taken into consideration… or has it?
Same comment as above?
So, virtually attempting to murder police officers, endangering members of the public, and he gets 12 months in prison? Grrr! The namby-pamby legal system is no deterrent at all. He’ll likely still get his drugs and booze sneaked in by his friends…
I wonder if Russia can offer them any jobs?
That should be knife found, another cock-up!
I am not complaining about Van Der Merwe getting a decent sentence, but so should Barrass! Four years and eight months. I concur with this sharp sentence. But why do attempted murderers and the Barrass above get one year for trying to kill police officers and putting the lives of the innocent at risk? Not to mention his drug offences, stabbing, firearms and woman battering qualities?
Price must be laughing his head off! 18 Months of Community order? What’s that, then? 80hrs of unpaid work?
A bit embarrassing that!
Parole Board members… don’t forget to give him full remission!
Sad.
If it’s true, fair enough!
Well done to the private group who caught him!
Angeringly sad.
Bit of decent speedy job done there by the police!
Keeping my determination not to win!
LATE EXTRA!
Trust is something we do all the time without thinking. Doctors (Harold Shipman), Nurses (Beverley Allitt), and policemen (Wayne Couzens) are professionals that we rely on, trust! We can guarantee that the Parole Board will release convicted murderers to kill again! The facts are, we can never know for sure…
Ending on a personal note…
I’ve found the legend for the local postcode crime map.
Pink: Theft from a person
Dark Pink: Shoplifting
Dark Grey: Vehicle Crime
Light Grey: Violence & Sexual Offence
Light Green: Other crime
Dark Green: Drugs
Mid Blue: Antisocial
Light Blue: Bicycle theft
Orange: Burglary
Mustard: Possession of a weapon
Teal: Public order
Greeny-Blue: Public order.
Bearing in mind along with the Cataracts, Glaucoma, and Saccades, I also have achromatopsia (colour blindness), my choice of colours may not be of much help. Tsk!
A lot less crime in my area this time. But I know that the youths breaking into my flat did not make it onto the map? How many others are missing?
After a terrible, almost sleepless night, I burst into life with a jump, and I soon realised Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was bleeding, I wanted a wee-wee, and the innards were rumbling away something awful. I thought this was a fine kettle of fish to greet the day… Worse was to come…
As I climbed out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously hideously beige coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, and got to my feet to catch my balance – I missed it, for it wasn’t there, and lurched backwards into the chair.
Leaving myself in a bit of a pickle… I needed the wee-wee, could feel the warm wetness in the PPs from the lesion, and there I was, struggling to get back up from the sharp landing on my bum, and felt Harold Haemorrhoids bleeding. Now as well! I fumbled out of the recliner again, the balance was still wrong, I got Metal Mickey (the three-pronged walking stick) and made way ASAP to the wet room. Naughty foul language was being muttered en route! Took a reluctant sprinkly wee-wee first.
Heck of a long job, but I cleaned things up, medicated Harold’s Haemorrhoids with Germoloid ointment, and used Daktacort cream on Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. The most painful of all the ailments to clean and medicate! Argh!But it has to be done.
How often it happens, the moment the piles have been cleaned and ointmentated, the need for Porcelain Throne follows. Grrr!
It’s a good job that I got up early all the same. Because the evacuation was the same as yesterday, under the control of Constipation Konrad! Solid, unwilling, and a giant torpedo when it eventually came out! . I set too on the crossword and finished it ultimately. T’was nothing to a man of my calibre! I finished one in 1972 as well… Mind you, I sat there for over an hour in hopes that the half-in, half-out situation with the rear end would flow again. Humph!
I decided to get the ablutions done as I was already in there. Mind you too early for a shower; the noise would wake the late sleepers. Things felt a bit better after that.
The shaving left me with.. wait for it… just one teeny-weeny cut. Another !
I got dressed in the day clothes. Then got the new slippers out of the packing bag. It took me a while to get them back into a shoe shape, suffice for me to get them on the feet. Warm, comfortable, cheap, they’ll do for me. Chinese made, not surprisingly – the stitching had started to split already, after three minutes of use.
Then started updating the Wednesday blog. I made a brew of Glengettie tea, tasty! But the balance let me down a little later when I visited the bucket for my fourth wee-wee, I don’t know how I did it, I held onto the bucket as I fell to the ground on one knee, without having any spillages?
I got the Phorpain gel out, and I gave the knee a good massage and ointmented it. Cleared things up, emptied, cleaned and sanitised the bucket, and got back to the blog updating, it’ll be a long job, and the shakes were back again. In fact, I was having a double-visit from Shaking Shaun and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, as carer Richard arrived. I think it fritted him for a second. It did me, and I’m used to them. Hahaha!
Ricard pointed out that I was swaying somewhat when I moved, and Metal Mickey was shaking a bit in use. Within minutes of him mentioning it, things improved greatly shaking-wise. I told Richard he should come more often to see me, you bring good luck with you. The lad looked tired again, but not as bad as yesterday. Then I found he was having a day off tomorrow. In fact, he wasn’t working again until Monday, I think he said. Nice chap, I wish I could do more for him. Still, treated him to some bits before he went, I insisted.
I wished him a good sleep, and I closed the door as Richard took out the waste bags, and as I turned to go down the hallway, the balance went out of sync… But let’s face it, it couldn’t have happened in a better place for me! I used both walls as the stick fell, and it was dead easy, too, with the hallway being so narrow! No injuries whatsoever. I brushed my chin against the wall, but no hassle. I felt a little chuffed with myself, smug!
Back to the updating of the blog. What a state I got myself into. I spent hours trying to get the photographs on the system, the card-reader was laughing at me. He even teased me sometimes, my part-loading the photos so I could see some of them, then freezing and coming up with messages “Please put a disc in drive-F. Then I had to wait several times when this repeated;y happened, cause it would not let me close anything. I just had to wait until it closed down of its own accord? Grumph!
Gone lunchtime by the time I got some loaded to use, and I was hours behind with everything else!
Then I checked the Amazon tracker, as the Morrison delivery via Amazon arrived. The driver rang me, but I couldn’t hear anything he was saying, but recognised the voice all the same, cause when he came months ago he left the bags downstairs for me. I said I’d go down, but by the time I got to the front lobby door the shakes were back, no problem with the balance, but Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was trying to give me forced leg dance again… I might have scared the Asian driver a bit, with my jerking antics. Hehehe! Anyway, although I had no idea what he was saying to me, his facial expressions showed he would not let me carry anything, and we made out way back up to the flat. He took the parcels and put them in the kitchenette for me. Bless him. I started to sort out the fodder. Only a few things for the freezer. Fries, leeks and waffle bites…
Which I can’t say that I can remember ordering… the waffles I mean? Got the frozen bits in the freezer, (it seemed a logical thing to do at the time, Hehe!) Then sorted the items for the fridge, which ended up rather full.
I’d overdone the desserts, and a box of cakes I ordered, apparently, I did not even like. There were no flowers available for Jenny and Francis’ treats, most annoying. But they did send the strawberries for them.
The cupboard foods had a wonderful surprise for me, the ‘Savers’ generic label Chilli Con Carnie was back in stock, not only that, they allowed me to buy five cans!!! This is my favourite of all the brands of chilli that I’ve tried. Soya pieces in place of meat, and tons of beans, all seasoned to my likes. Gorgeous flavour! Now I have something to live for! Hehehe!
I made up two bags on nibbles, sorry about not getting any daffodils for them. Cleaned up from the sorting things out. Took the bags of waste with me, and the bags on the walker, and delivered them. You wouldn’t believe how long it took in the lifts; when I wanted to down others were going up, so I waited for the next lift I don’t know how many times, and visa-versa when I wanted to get back up. No complaints, at least Morrisons had some strawberries for the gals, and I got my beloved cans of chilli again!
I dropped off the waste bag down the chute and made my way back to the flat. During which it dawned on me how few times in the last hours, I’ve needed a wee-wee? Also, the balance had improved… it’s a funny old life!
By the time I got back into the apartment, I realised what time it was. four PM! 16:00hrs! Late afternoon, and I had not even started on this blog yet! Everything takes so much longer to get done nowadays.
I got the blood pressure and temperature taken. While I remembered that it hadn’t been done yet.
Also, I was beginning to worry that I’d forgotten something that had to be done, or whatever today?
Then, I noticed as I got the things that I needed for the Health Checks gathered together, how leathery the skin looked n my hands… I suppose it should be expected really at my age. Still, I’ve kept onto my face dimples. Hahaha!
Another set of encouraging results today! The body temperature was almost spot-on the ideal target of 35°c. Can’t moan about these figures at all, never had them any better!
The Blood Pressure returns via the sphygmomanometer were good yet again! Creeping back up a little, maybe? Compared to last week end’s Sys of 208, it shot down to 137, then 142, 144, now 147. But it will settle again, I’m sure… Did I just say that? Har-har, we’ll see.
I spent many hours on this blog. The evening carer is due soon, too. I’ve not had owt to eat yer as well! Or should that be either?
I tried to reply to some WP comments. Most successfully, a few failed? I’ve been trying to reply to Tim Price’s comment on Rescued photographs & diary. But keep getting the red box ‘Comment Failed! – try again’ – which I have many times. Well, Tim below is my failed reply:
The best for ages, Tim, well pleased. Not really my choice of photos, Tim… there are the card readers choice, he’s taken to stopping so many from loading, seemingly at random. I need help here. Hahaha!
Cheers, TTFNski.
Also, I cannot answer my beloved petal Lisa. I’ll try again in the morning. Is it WP? The Computer? Me? Or a combination of all three?
Better get some nosh sorted out, then. Got the beans and veggieburgers served up. I took a photo, but the card reader will not let me get at it.
Evening Care called, but I was not in a good condition, and I was confused when she arrived. No recollection of much. Remember seeing her off and locking the door, as she took the waste bag with her.
Worra job, fighting the SD card reader, t’was pathetic! Four days of failing, it was terribly acrostic… Three or six times a day, I tried and was feeling threnetic, The neighbour was noisy; I resisted any rhetoric, Cause I could have hit him with my mashie-niblick! But at least his noise today is only sporadic.
I know that I’m uneducated, got dementia, and am thick… But repeated failings to get the piccies on… I felt sick… Got some of them on today, and then I felt fantastic… But once out of five days? Proves I’m no clever dick… But my moods are temporary, changing, erratic… I can be depressed, then minutes later, charismatic?
Sometimes, well, rarely, I can believe I’m being realistic… But then consider myself unreliable and eccentric… Other times concentration can be enjoyed, therapeutic… But it’s only me being toying with hopes, being simplistic. Hopes for improvement in mental health and lethargic, Ever new problems with neurotransmitters and neuralgic.
I don’t expect that life’s ailments or mental logic, A problem is I’m my own worst critic, To expect to get back to normal is unrealistic… I anticipate daily pains and struggles… am I masochistic? That’s not the word I mean; I do feel a dick… I somehow cope well with pain that’s chronic?
But not with Peripheral Neuropathy, or owt anapeiratic, I manage with being deaf and arthritic, Not Doreen Dementia, who denies anything copacetic… I try not to get depressed or apathetic, I can often laugh it off, then I find it all too dramatic, I cannot cope; I find it all too frantic!
Having got rid of the depressive rot, onward…
Not sure what day this blood test was done, but I’ll hazard a guess on Saturday. To think, a couple of days earlier, the SYS was 208! Noe down to the second-lowest ever! Hehe! I’m not complaining, mind you.
And the body temperature, well, another fantastic result. Almost spot on the target figure (NHS) of 35°c!
I can remember taking this temperature, although not the day – because I dropped the thermometer, bent down to retrieve it, and clouted my head against the corner of the chair. And knocked the camera off of the table, and it would not work for a day or so, Tsk!
This I recognise quickly enough, along with the error I made doing it…
I’d made the nosh for Josie, as usual on a Sunday. Got it just right tastewise, and delivered it to her door at the agreed time of midday, feeling rather smug, with her treats for the weekend on the tray. Josie said nothing out of the usual. But I did an odd look from the gal… had I done something wrong? Mmm!
When I got back to my flat to start my dinner, it came to me… It was Saturday! Not Sunday! I felt such a berk!
I got my fodder served up. Vegetable pastie. Green and black grapes, garden peas, baked potatoes, lemon yoghourt. It was lovely. I granted the meal a taste-Rating of 8/10.
I’ve no idea why I took the picture whatsoever? I think it was on Saturday that I was having problems with the computer, other than the usual regular temper and sanity-testing card reader.
This night (Saturday maybe), the sky seemed a smidge misty with it during the sunsetting process.
I stayed up late to catch it and took these two relatively poor photographicalisations from the kitchen windows.
Saturday night, I think, possibly, mayhaps, if not, then Sunday…
I had a bad bleed from Little Inchies Fungal lesion.
Sunday, I think these results are from. And a fine set of figures they were. Sys 144, DIA 54 (A little low, maybe, but no worries about this), the pulse showed 83.
Well, blow me down, another good reading from my Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. Dang, close to perfect for the third day!
Ah, my beloved puffer clouds were up in the sky for me to picture them. I recall taking these pictures and suddenly needing the Porcelain Throne, so off I trotted without any delay…
I was sitting on that plastic seat in there for over 25 minutes! I also took a Codeine afterwards to ease the sore bum from the concrete torpedo; I’d just grindingly released with a Clonk of a noise when it landed in the bowl! Constipation Conrad had won the competition against his competitor Trotsky Terence by several lengths. Still, I got a few clues answered in the crossword book.
Another sort of cloudy, hazy sunset that night. Of course, I have no idea what night it was, Sunday or Monday, I imagine.
Buttered tatties, tomatoes, fish fingers, fishcakes with mushy peas inside, and battered fish fingers, Birds Eye as well, and they were crap tasting! Some grapes, and I see the milk roll slices, which was excellent cause I could mask the cardboard taste of the Birds Eys battered fish fingers a little by the bread. Eurgh! The potatoes were undercooked, but they were cooked bu a grand chap (Me!) Hahaha! Flavour: 5/10.
Tuesday’s nosh, this was more like it. There are tons of garden peas, tomatoes, tattie chunks, yellow and red tomatoes, and two sizeable battered fish portions. This fish in batter tasted a lot better than the last Birds Eye ones.
Unfortunately, the rest of the meal was a disappointment, well, crap again, actually! The bananas had gone oversweet with age, the potatoes tasteless, and the peas were bitter and sour. The tomatoes were fair enough. Flavour: 5.5/10.
Wednesday: The Iceland order arrived. I was unsure what to expect after they sent me the chinks that had gone green last week. The driver took the bags through to the kitchenette for me and got his choice of cans in thanks. Three items were not available, and two substitutions, but at least they had better dates on them this week. I got the bags unloaded, doing the freezer and fridge items first.
Tried some of their veggieburgers and pies this time. Frozen, of course, and had a job to get them into the fridge and freezer. The substituted tomatoes were Italian ones, So maybe a disappointment. We’ll see. They usually are but compared to last week’s Algerian ones…
The substituted Richmond sausages, Carer Richard, can have in the morning.
Well, yet another fine set of results from the Health Checks! Sys 133, Dia 70, Pulse 69 (A smidge low again), Then I got the thermometer out.
Brilliant! Four days now since the 248 SYS reading, Yee-Haa! Anyone’s guess is how long these promising results will go on for.
Gong to get some nosh on now. Hopefully, I can make something worthwhile and tasty this time.
Got the chips in the oven. And noted the popularity of the Chestnut Way end car park – And no red-van-man is on sight. Unless he’s parked elsewhere than his favourite spot on the yellow no parking chevrons?
The evening Carer arrived, Valerie (Nibbles). Sorted the medications and took the bag to the chute on her way out.
Got the burnt chips based nosh finished and served up. Do you know, they tasted super-good and so tasty! At last, a decent rated meal. A burger on a cob, tomatoes, and garden peas. For afters, a mini strawberry cheesecake and a banana. Taste Rating: 9/10!
The Amazon ordered slippers arrived a little late on. Thanked the driver and offered his choice of canned refreshments.
I didn’t open the bag yet, I’ll do that in the morning, but I could tell I was going to be disappointed by the shape of the package. It felt more like a giant teddy bear inside than footwear. Squashed up and no doubt well-misshapen. Hey-Ho!
I was deprived of getting to sleep again, can’t blame the Thought-Storms this time – Thoughts of all kinds and types were absent! I was not depressed, just in a passive, what-the-heck mood. Although hours later, after failing to nod off, the darned Thought-Storms did kick off. The long done and gone mistakes I’d made flourished about in my head, seemingly in amazing chronological order? Around 02:20hrs, I put the TV on, a desperate measure… but it seemed to work… Until I sprang awake at 04:00hrs!
All Inchies’ plans, hopes, desires get obliterable,
All of the wishes and prayers fade; it’s unfixable…
In a crowd, he’s always the one that’s unnoticeable,
Thought-Storms, wild ideas become pestilential…
His handwriting is now virtually untranslatable,
Voices, alarms, so many to Inchie are unhearable,
Problems are increasing… not many are solvable,
Friendships, chinwags are all uncultivatable,
As seeing lip-reading with Cataracts is not doable…
Vascular Dementia Doreen has ruined the potential…
To do anything that is enjoyable or cherishable!
Inchie should get a medal for being so confusable… He’s given up socialising, he’s no longer compatible, Inchies depressions are no longer confineable, Hell, they are not even logical or describable… He tries to talk seriously, his views are uninfluential, Inchies common sense is turning surreal, His neurotransmitters are no longer connectable… To the brain; so too falls and shakes he is liable… But hopes of a cure are almost non-existent… Sniffle!
Yet he can have hopes, some of them substantial, But why he bothers is just unanswerable… Will he feel better when his eyes are done; its arguable, Cataracts, Glaucoma Saccades, are treatable… But will Inchy love long enough? Life’s a raffle… For 25 years now, he’s been totally tea-total, He never thought he’d persist and be capable, See? Summat he got right is detectable!
On past City & QMC visits, he became reflectable, Hoping those he awaits will not be fatal… He’s waiting on dates of five procedures at the hospital, Will soon come about and be arrangeable, But he’s not too hopeful and not getting flappable… He’s more worried about the logistics; will he be able… Which can do him no good and be detrimental… That’s another thing he needs, treatment dental!
He fears arranging things transportational… A carer to stay with him, which’d be pleasurable, After the 3 procedures, stay for 24hrs – is this possible? What’s the procedure: is it cost credible? I don’t know why I wrote this; it’s grammatically unpublishable?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Tues 5th April 2022
03:30hrs: The now, usual for the last four mornings anyway, jumping awake to the tormenting sounds of the Thought-Storms, driving me into instant confusion, began.
I reckon the storm lasted for about three minutes, then faded fast. No idea why, but happy about it!
Even getting out of the c1966 recliner and up to catch my balance was easy-peasy! Three-limps with Metal Mickey to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) and took another reluctant wee-wee. Without any PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling. Things looked hopeful to me for a better day in the offing? Until…
I soon learnt that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete had replaced the Thought-Storm as the primary ailment. Although, right Cartilage Cathy was assisting in making hobbling a smidge difficult. But I’m not complaining; this knee pain and wobbling leg were a pleasure to put up with compared to yesterday morning’s Dracula Depression. Yes, I was feeling much better already!
Emptied, cleaned and disinfected the bucket and had a wash of sorts. Then, returned the NWWB to its handily placed position. Just in case things change with the bladder, off to the kitchen.
The view from the kitchenette window was very similar to yesterday’s beautiful picture.
I took this photograph. Even if it looked like yesterday.
As I opened the window, the wind caught me out. I moved a little with the camera and knocked over the knife block! I managed to catch it without any harm or injury, and only one knife fell out of the block! I was trying not to get into a Smug-Mode, as history has taught me that doing that can prove almost fatal! At minimal a foretaster of something else going wrong, at least! I made up two waste bags and placed them near the door. Got the kettle on and made a brew of JS Extra Strong tea. And off to get the computer going.
I kept getting messages telling me to put a disc in the F: drive, which had been there all along. The SD card reader refused to react again. So I left the card in to see if it would later on. I occasionally responded by giving the SD card a soft jingle – but it made no difference. Hey-ho!
Carer Richard arrived. He soon got me sorted with the medications, alarm-alert battery checks and looked at the supply of drugs in the drawer. He had to shoot off. He gave me a bit of a natter, though, bless him. He didn’t look too good this morning. Hope he’s going to be alright.
After updating yesterday’s blog for a while, I made another brew. Glengettie this time, and I tried the new ‘Just Milk’ in it again.
I’ve no idea if anything in it is different to normal semi-skimmed milk; the writing is too tiny for Cataract Kathleen to make it out. But I have to say that it lets the flavour of the tea come through without masking it, better than any other milk I’ve tried. As I got back to updating the blog…
The need for the Porcelain Throne interrupted me. As I casually got up and grabbed Metal-Mickey, the urgency of the need snowballed, and it ended up with just making it in time, after a panic, rush and quick hobble! Hahaha!
Not exactly as smooth as silk, and it was accompanied by different pains areas this time, despite the evacuation being semi-soft. All over in about a minute! No bleeding, stinging or hurting from Harold’s Haemorrhoids either. As I was cleaning up after the event. I realised that it may well be my having a second vegetable meal in three days that made things uncomfortable and nearly caught me out? Back to chips and a pastie with tomatoes tonight!
Made another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. Oh, I am spoilt for choices with great tasting teas! My best four are, from the top: Glengettie, Thompsons Punjana, Co-op 99 and JS Extra Strong Brown Label. But there is little between them. All great!
Made a restart on the updating of yesterday’s blog. At long last, I got it done and posted it off to WordPress.
Sphygmomanometerisationing began. The Boots machine returned slightly better figures this morning. The SYS has gone down from 169, 161, 159 and now to 157. My blood pressure is going in the right direction! And the body temperature is so very nearly on target again, at 34.8°c. Good!
Back to the wet room, no waiting this time, first songs and I was off. Hehe! Bubbly is one word to describe the evacuation this time. Almost frothy? Not a lot, no bleeding and no pain!
I replied to some Emails… well, the one. Hehe! I did some Facebooking catch-up. Starting the WP Reader viewing and…
Mr Nice, from the flat above, launched into some clanging about.
I spent a long time trying to get this post started. The concentration did a runner, and so many mistakes were made and had to be found and corrected. I imagine I’ve missed some; there were that many! The top Ode cost me a few hours of disheartening faffling about.
It was well into the afternoon when I got up to here with the scripturising. I like that word; I expected Grammarly to tell me it was spelt wrong. Oh, sod it, it just told me belatedly!
Better get some nosh sorted out then.
Took a photo of the Chestnut Way end car park. Just to see how red-van-man had parked.
Even with the Cataracts, it caught my eye that the popularity of car colours on the front spaces. Grey, black and white seems to be in fashion here at the towers. Disabled ones, perhaps?
I got the nosh all sorted out. Fishcakes with mushy peas in them, imitation fish sticks, tomatoes and some reasonably decent chips. Dessert and milk roll bread. Rating: 7/10.
Fell asleep watching something or other on the TV. Two hours or so later, ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chirped from the door chime, and the evening carer arrived. An obviously experienced young chap, not seen him before. Good at the job, sorted the medications and came up with a solution to dropping the tablets and regurgitating without noticing. The Carer suggested taking them one at a time. Good idea, I’ll try that! Thanked him, and off he went.
As I checked around to make sure no taps or lights had been left on and all was safe – I saw the view from the kitchenette window. It was beautiful; I got the Canon and took this photo.
Then, a programme, well, two consecutive ones, were shown on the same channel. I fancied watching them both and got myself settled with a bottle of spring water, the wee-wee bucket nearby, feet up on the chair in readiness to enjoy them. I fell asleep at the first set of adverts and woke up two hours later to catch the finishing credits for the second documentary! Hey-Ho!
Belated Photographicalisations Hope I’ve not put them on before…Tsk!
Yesterdays Nosh: Highlights of the meal? Every single chip! But many of the peas gave me the slip… Onto me, the chair and the floor, they lost their grip! The cheap beef? Smelt to me, of catnip?
Sunset Photo: Did the ablutions and adorned fresh night attire – I don’t think my choice of jammy bottoms helped me relax or drop off… hence it was a few hours before I could get off into the land of nod, with the help of the TV adverts!
Sunday 20th March 2022
The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing
After about two hours of bliss with Sweet Morpheus, I shot awake, needing a wee-wee…
Haha! I had to get over the shock of seeing the jammie-bottoms and state of the ankle and feet first. I rose cautiously but with haste as the bladder was being tested somewhat. As I grabbed Metal Mickey and made for the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), how much easier the feet felt after yesterday’s farcical visit to the foot lady. I soon realised that I had not taken last night’s Hemp capsule; that’s probably why I sprang awake so early… Just guessing, mind! So, I took one and went to the kitchen to make a brew of Glengettie to get me going.
Decided to Christen the new Hob kettle delivered yesterday. Well, the instructions were printed so tiny! Me struggling with the eyes, Saccades Sandra, Glaucoma Glenda and Cataracts Kathleen, reading them was a no-no! But hey, how hard can it be to muck-up using a kettle?
Well, dead easy for me, as it happened! The kettle looked alright; until it came to take its lid off! Bruised my fingers and banged my knuckles on the handle when the cover eventually gave way… Cleaned the inside and outside. Finding a maximum level of fill mark limit. This on the left is the kettle filled up to the maximum line.
Two mugs of water! Harrumph!
Carer Sobia (I think) arrived to sort me out. She spent a few moments letting me natter. ♥
Pressed on updating yesterday’s blog and got it finished, posted it off. Went on the WordPress Reader section. Replied to some comments from Tim and Bill. Then had a look at the state of the flat.
It was not a pretty sight!
I pondered on getting some cleaning done… Then, I considered some more but realised that I had to get Josies’ Sunday lunch done again. I say again, because yesterday, Saturday, I thought it was Sunday, which is today. And made her one yesterday – What a pillock! You see?
Off to the kitchenette, made up the chillies beans, chestnuts, tomatoes and four kinds of beans (already soaked from yesterday, but not put in the pan), ingredients and seasonings, kept checking things and back on the computer.
Oh, the kettle... I can’t hear the whistle when it goes off. Which was a little annoying. Not much!
Hahaha!
First, try to do the blood pressure; it was apparent that I’d either died or may have made an Accifauxpas?
The second attempt was a successful effort – albeit a rather higher than recent Blood Pressure reading. The pulse rate was within the given limits… I think?
Cor, blimey, luv-a-duck! Talk about a low body temperature! Summat is wrong here… surely?
Nipped to check on Josie’s meal cooking and put some treats on the tray, ready to be delivered to her door in a while when the chilli is all done and dusted. I’ve tried a little extra black bean sauce in it this time.
– Little Inchies fungal lesion has burst again. What a bloody mess! PP’s, lounge pants, the bottom of the shirt and the legs all needed sorting out, and in a hurry too, or Josies’ nosh might spoil! On with the cleaning up, I’ll leave the medicating until after I’ve sorted the Sunday lunch out… I’m not looking forward to that! Fed-Up? Me?
Pepped, presented and popped the tray of fodder to Josie’s flat. Back to my flat, and realised after perusing the TV schedule that three FA Cup (football-soccer) matches were shown almost after each other, and the third was Nottingham Forest – Liverpool… That was it! Everything else stopped, and I made a meal to eat while the first match was on. Down in front of the telly, and apart from wee-wee demands, I remained there for hours and hours…
I was not enthusiastic about this match, although I wanted Palace to win. Well before the half-time whistle, I fell asleep. I woke up right at the end of the game, seeing a pleasingish result. Made a brew, Porcelain Throned, and ready for the next match to miss…
I was hoping that Southampton might get a good result, them being the underdogs. Not that I say any more than the first half, then as the adverts came on, I nodded off… Ah, well! Glad I missed the thrashing in a way.
Damnations and Globberisations! The half-time nodding off came again! The first half was all Liverpool, as was to be expected, and they had most possession of the ball by a long way – Yet, I was proud of Nottingham Forest’s performance all the same, against a top division squad. They had beaten Arsenal and Leicester in earlier rounds, but Liverpool has always been a curse on Forest!
A genuine nice touch of compassion from Nottingham Forest, in leaving 97 seats empty, in the memory of fans who lost their lives in the Hillsborough disaster. RIP.
I fell asleep during the adverts on the telly again and woke up with Forest down a goal. Not that I really wanted to see the goal, but there was a repeat on another channel, and I watched that, which showed the goal. It also showed me how much better the reds were playing. No disgrace in losing like they did!
I was about to do my ablutions, and the door chime chimed its ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune. Had the Carer arrived early?
It was poor Josie. She had had an accident, she said… Bless her, she seemed genuinely upset. She’d dropped the small maroon Chilli-stew bowl and broke it. I put her mind at rest and made light of it, beaming my bestest smile at her, telling her not to fret… it can’t be helped. When it comes to dropping things, I take some beating, Hahaha!
The evening carer arrived minutes later. Her name was… erm…? Sophia? Who sorted me out with the medications. I decided to make a brew of Glengettie, and to my surprise, the sunset, which was previously dour and grey, had gone into a maroon-red mode. So, I took these snaps of it. Almost pastel colours tonight?
Got my head down and nodded off in no time; Grrreat!
I woke a few hours late in a semi-panic-mode. There was no option for me; I had to get up and have a Sherlock Holmesian investigation; I just knew something had been missed… I just knew I’d not done something or left summat on or off that should be the other… I was fully awake and as alert as I ever will be… fear of an unknown Accifauxpa or Whoopsiedangleplop were the driving force.
①: I started by checking the wet room’s taps, fearing finding a flood… Nope, all looks fine?
②: Then into the junk room to check if I’d left the iron on. Or the board up… Left the mini-vacuum on charge? Nope, all looks fine?
③: The danger Zone next, the kitchenette! Faucets both off. Nope, all looks fine?
④: The stove, had I left the new kettle on? Nope, all looks fine?
⑤: The microwave, Nope, all looks fine?
⑥: The fridge door? Nope, all looks fine?
⑦: The windows secured? Nope, all looks fine?
⑧: Back into the recliner room-computer room. TV, the computer turned off? Cameras been left on charge? Nope, all looks fine?
⑨: Balcony doors? Telephone off the hook? Nope, all looks fine?
⑩: Still, the sense that something had not been done, or done that shouldn’t have been, lurked in my bonce? This was terribly mind-unsettling. I even went to look at the flat door… I don’t know why I did, but… Nope, all looks fine?
⑪: I checked all the lights and powerpoints. They all looked safe and were on or off as each needed to be.
This bugbear sentiment was joined by the ‘Thought Storms’ when I tried to get my head down again. Which naturally set off other worries, uncertainties and fears, ripping through the brain at such a rate it was impossible to concentrate on finding any solutions or ideas that may calm things down in the brain-cells…
This nagging, gnawing, pestering idea that something is wrong really got to me. Even when the Thought-Storms eventually ceased, I continued to think of what the
heck it could be – something I’d forgotten to do, most likely… Thanks, Dementia Doreen!
Ode To The Day
The day was miserable, and I felt bolshy… No… a better word, is unappreciatory, Cause things weren’t all Whoopsidangleploppery… Niggles, failures, and wee-wees oversprayingily… Unconfident, then again, I’m like this daily!
I was speaking to myself almost multilingually… Nottinghamian, swearing; my thoughts subtextually, Self-pity and hatred popping up continually… Thought-Storms raging perpetually… None of them being approvingly… Every one of them, ruefully…
Vascular Dementia Doreen and the Thought-Storming,
Memory-loss, mind blanks, can be mentally disturbing,
At times depressing, troubling, often gruelling…
Alto-Ego and Inchies brain, arguing, duelling…
Sometimes the mind needs a rest for refuelling,
Here are some of the traits revealed, comedic and appalling!
Arguing with Alto-Inchy…
Conflict often starts when in the wet room, ablutioning, I’ve only one mirror; I use it for shaving in the morning… Or with mind-blanks, sometimes, it will be in the evening, I hate him; he’s superior, nasty and criticising! This Alto Inchie… the other me… can be baffling…
Mayhaps I need a neurologist or Psychologist visiting? I hear sounds from the past, traffic, songs, bugling… Although usually, we are deep in mental brawling… Me, the one who ends up depressed and caterwauling… Yet occasionally, Alto-Ego, becomes less insulting?
I suppose I need some form of help, some counselling? Yet I don’t believe anything can stop my mind from crumbling! Physically Peripheral Neuropathy Pete can be disabling, The Stroke ensured I shall forever be struggling… The Cataracts, Glaucoma and ears are much more worrying…
Yet some days, incredibly, I seem to be coping? I find that I am actually optimistic and hoping, I can sort out bits of concern by disentangling… The feeling guilty for my self-pity, by realising, Others are worse off and alone too… Humbling!
Stop and Ponder…
The Thought storms may suddenly go into mothballing…
I stop in the front room – it needs cleaning and sorting…
The brain tells me I require mollycoddling…
My fears and depressions certainly need muzzling!
Priorities need arranging and some actioning!
But it’s not easy for me, detail classifying, pigeonholing, Forgetting, misplacing, quarrelling amidst the schemozzling… Fears, worries, flash into mind… like anchovies shoaling, I feel my sanity at times is stumbling on its way to failing, Do you think the NHS will do mind-surveilling?
Mentally Distorted
I see the view via photographing,
What do you see? Well, according to me…
Somewhere out there; Some folk will be contradicting,
Or a poor sod in the middle of a bankrupting…
A family, communally banqueting?
A Monopoly player cheating?
Someone undoubtedly shoplifting…
A lamb in a field might be bleating?
Or emergency workers, fire-fighting,
Drug gangs, selling, abusing…bloodletting?
A politician… bloviating!
A news reporter, reporting?
An illegal immigrant deporting?
A lucky sod having sex… luxuriating!
Someone up an alleyway, urinating?
First-time home-owners, decorating,
An old age pensioner… constipating!
A Dour Sunsetting
A hard-up family, regretting Brexiting?
A hustler, planning, hornswoggling!
A fiddling bank manager… calculating?
A mugged pensioner, capitulating…
A murderer being freed to kill again – Sickening!
A baby going through the pain of castrating?
A young couple learning about cavorting!
Another freed murderer, celebrating?
A Hari Krishna member chanting,
A water worker, chlorinating?
A Nottingham pick-pocket circulating,
A Politician: World war circumventing?
A pair of gents, cockfighting,
A Policeman, machete and gun confiscating?
Jews and Arabs coexisting?
Ah! Now I’m getting into the land of dreaming…
Bad Parking!
.The Red Van Man – lousy parking…
Parking properly, he’s not contemplating…
Maybe he has not got the ability?
If so, parking without conformity…
Blocking fire engines in an emergency?
He should get a cautioning?
Ah, now I’m remembering…
Private land! So no legal prosecuting…
I’m not surprised; at the laws failing…
They free murderers to do more killing!
Dangerous!
Look at these perfect results above, contrasting…
To yesterday, when the SYS was rising…
Oh, dearie me!
The temperature was ever more declining…
34.1°c, but I’m only witwantoning!
Angel Julia
.American Carer Julia, her kindness is unremitting,
She had another call to do, so not much nattering…
Whenever Julia calls, I find it thrilling…
When Julia leaves, it is somewhat saddening…
For she cheers me so, she’s pleasant, patient and Caring ♥
Lip Smackingly Good!
Do you like the look of the meal above, my dining?
No meat as such, but fish-sticks, without fish in?
The taste of them was breathtaking…
Not too sweet, oven chips, no frying…
And I’m not lying, the most satisfying…
Truly tasty, there’s no denying…
A treat to the taste buds… gobsmacking!
Harry Ramsdens Chip Shop style, well-worth trying!
I find things today are moral-contaminating,
Not that I’ve done much in the improving things contributing!
I’ve drifted along, weak-willed and no consolidating…
Done my bestest to be kind and temper-moderating… Welcomed, greeted folks, by my bridge building… Do no harm, I did to help for others, aid-orchestrating…
Now disabilities, old age, vascular dementia I’m getting… I keep falling over, but not fainting, Struggle with my ablutioning, Tried not for others to be abnegating… The eyes and ears problems get no alleviating, Let alone actually obtain any treating!
I’m aware of Dementia Doreen; I need sanity-auditing, My thoughts and intentions… are not completing… Use of the brain is nowadays complicating, My decisions, fears, desires are self-conflicting… I do little to deserve any respect or congratulating, The Thought-Storms are ever congregating…
The mind seems to be mentally contorting, The physical side doesn’t stand reporting… Even taking a wee-wee needs coercing! From logicalness, I think I’m distancing… Any paperwork is confusing and inconveniencing!
Memory, or lack of, mind blanks, have me cursing… I need help, mayhaps a little nursing?… No, perhaps some rejoicing, romancing? I may get by with some reminiscing? The brain has little left for downloading!
Inchcock Loses the plot in this ode to Old Nottingham Memories
But he does his bestest, honest!
Nottingham has many virtues, good, bad and chronic… Its history, of being Saxonic, It’s people grand, pleb’s, murderers, some moronic, Nowadays, we’ve bred more that are demonic… Muggers, gangsters, shop lifter, a lot, schizophrenic… A few have car insurance, and not many have a driving licence… Younger Nottinghamians music is cacophonic… Thousands of students, so some scientific… We’ve had many arrested for being terroristic.
Many of them you’d think were telluric, The job-shy, call having a cold being sick! Many old uns like me, who remember Sputnik… Using lard to make their spotted dick! We’re snided out with those sarcastic… Even more of them are vandalistic! Gone are the days of the workaholic… But also gone, getting polio, scabies and colic! Hopes for our citizenry? Like a trip on the Titanic!
The tin bath dragged inside from the wall, metallic… No bath salts, we made do with soap, carbolic! Hot water, Ha! Boil it on the stove or fire; unhygienic! The toilet outside at the end of the yard is unproblematic! Mind you, in winter, I was a smidgeon unenthusiastic… Coal-house out there, fetching wood could be traumatic, In the dark, you could kill a rat or cat hidden – tragic! But lazing in front of the coal fire was magic! Until the burning ashes shot out, and the carpet got lit!
Anything to be written was in pencil or pen and ink! We knew nowt about an uplink, hard-drive or weblink, Mobile, cell phone, wristwatch, dentist or permalink,? Our pleasures limited, Monopoly, maybe tiddlywink… Swearing was minimal then, ratfink, burke or gink! Getting the belt for devilry made us wince and squint! I got a few lashes once, a day out…for not looking perjink! I recall once, the lads writing on my leg splint… Not a lot of it was spelt right; they put sinnt for sent… But thickness and ignorance permeated wherever I went!
I tried to join a club once, ended up getting a blackballing! My education, manners, and appearance were appalling! My approach to girls, looking back… was bloodcurdling! 9 times out of 10, her admirers would end up brawling! With me, the littlest, the one that kept falling & failing! On this embarrassing subject, I’ll stop burbling!
Amongst the unknown to us was Methamphetamine, Mind you, we’d a neighbour who’d supply whisky and gin… I got IPA, Mackeson, Guinness, thus started drinking… My intake, for many years, there was no curtailing… But my love of beer was never really disabling, Until cancer arrived, there was only one way of controlling… I singularly went from a happy drinker to totally abstaining! It was hard, so hard to do, I still find it appealing… But without any help, encouragement or counselling, I turned tea-total… smug-mode developing!
I became a keen lover of food and masticator, My weight ballooned, and furthermore… Got myself a duodenal ulcer… Cancer of the bladder… Then diabetes and nasty hernia… Peripheral neuropathy, oh, bother! A stroke, which left me a confused procrastinator… Disabled, what next? Cataracts, Saccades and Glaucoma! I was already going deaf, then bother with an incisor!
And to think, I used to be a blood-doner.., Also, now, I do tend to stutter… Still struggle with the wee-weeing bother, Then I was confirmed to have Vascular Dementia… This life has been terrible… yet also an adventure! Oh, and the back’s developing a curvature… I think its best to try and stay demure, About there is no chance of a cure, The failing eyesight is worrying me more…
Did I deserve all these ailments? That’s up for conjecture, Is that the right word? I’ll check… Yes, no error! Things seemed better in the days of yore, thereinbefore, The Carers’ cost a lot, that’s for sure… A little good luck, I could do with some more? Dementia Doreen’s in control, I’m sure, that I can assure… Yet at times, she rests, releases the memory-core… If she returns and comes back to the fore, She’s my ever-present concentration annihilator!
Sorry, I see my starting thoughts got juxtaposed…
Did my thought waves get overdiagnosed?
Is Dementia Doreen no longer comatose,
Or my incredulous logic, become indisposed?
Have I been overeating glucose,
I’ve just eaten a banana, and I’m adipose!
Would it be alright to have Marmite on toast?
The plot’s gone again – what a terrible host!.
I’m fighting depression; not so much about the cataracts worries, deafness, Peripheral Neuropathy, or Dizzy Dennis visits this time. Can’t load photos, Liberty-Global Virgin Media, and it’s so slow! Mainly due to computer problems.
02:30hrs: I woke and rose this morning, with a terrible foreboding of what is to follow today. Nothing specific, but my EQ warned me that things would not go well. That was all I needed as if I wasn’t low enough to start with!
In between a few wee-wees, I made up some bottles of spring water with lime & lemon cordial. No interest in making a brew? What? And got on to the computer, with an unconfident hope that the photos would load this time…
No-go! I’ve got the meal from last night and some photos I took of the BBC Midland News on the card to use on a snippets blog. I didn’t take any other pictures in anticipation of my luck remaining at the usual level of atrocious.
I finished last nights blog and posted it off. Then went on the WP Reader, comments, and started doing a graphic.
04:10hrs, I heard some clattering from the flat above, not a lot, and not too bad.
Made a start on this blog, and the blustering winds got up so bad. Also, some noises sound like humming machinery, so loud, from above. What’s going on?
I decided to get the ablutionisationing done, stand-up, no showering cause the noise might disturb anyone sleeping. Put the computer into sleep mode. Back in a while… I hope!
Upon my way to the wet room with the day clothes, I discovered the reason behind one of the many noises this Monday morning. As I passed by the airing cupboard and tank room, without my hearing aids in, I heard a noise of water running into the tank occasionally; this is accompanied by a comical gurgling sound? I took the camera in with me out of habit, so I took some photos after the session. Hope they can be uploaded with time… He says without much confidence…
I started with nose and teeth cleaning. Then a need for the Porcelain Throne arose (it does that often, I’ve noticed that).
What a near-perfect evacuation that ever was! A smooth flow that needed little effort from me. Not phooey! Not runny, not messy. There was a tiny few bits of blood, but the dark red indicated they were from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, so nowt to worry about there! I moved on to readying the shaving tackle things.
I made a tiny cut trying to shave the neck-hole. (“Why when all my hair went years ago; does hair still grow around the neck, and behind the ear-holes? Just a thought”). No Accifauxpas, toe-stubbings, or walking into anything!!! Fair enough, three or four razor drops, but they all fell in the sink, so even that was lucky!
All went well. No need for any attention to Little Inchies fungal lesion – Hurray! Then got dressed… The PP’s first, then the dangerous job… Arthur Itis and Cartilage Kathy, both being very stiff this morning, I ended up having to use Sock-Glide-Glenda! The blister-making and blood-lusting Green Goddess! And she kept up her record of injuring me but not so bad as usual. She’s getting older now? Hahaha!
Just had to take a photo, not being sure if I’d get it on but did later, of the masterstroke of using the precocious Sock-Glide-Glenda. During this procedure, I needed three wee-wees! Sod-it, off again! I hope things calm down soon!
I then took a photograph of the car park at the dead-end of Chestnut Way.
The red-van-man was back in his usual line and chevrons ignoring parking spot. The rain and wind were still so heavy I took this picture through the balcony’s glass.
♫ Oh, Suzana ♫ chimed out – Carer Richard arrived, in a rush, no time for a chinwag. He soon got the medications and alarm battery check done for me. I think Rich was having problems. Richard was not his usual self at all this morning. Hope he’ll be alright. He asked for a bottle of water, I got him one from the stockpile in the kitchen, but he didn’t like the M&S brand, said it was ‘crap’, I’ll have a Highland one, so I gave him a Highland one. Ha! Said he might be coming on Tuesday, I think, he said. He kindly took the little blue waste bag with him, to the chute, for me.
Sphygmomanometerisationing, at last, showed a lower SIA reading on the Blood pressure. Nice! As was the DIA and Pulse results. Then I got the body temperature taken. That was a smidge higher for once, close to the red-line minimum of 35°c. But not quite there yet, but it’s good to have near enough not to ring anyone as I have been instructed to.
An hour or so struggling with the slow computer, in getting some photos on at last to use. The intercom lit up and buzzed; it was the Iceland delivery arriving. The chap looked soaking-sodden wet, poor thing when he got to the door. He put the bags through to the doorway into the hall for me, only four today, missing items, I bet. Or, mayhaps I curtailed the demands this time? (Only 1 item had to be substituted, and two not available) I did well in the fridge department. I got the diced beef chunks. BBQ Rustlers, BBQ flavoured chips, and frozen beefburgers. I thank you!
A nice filled-fridge again, that’ll do me nicely until the following Monday, methinks. So glad you get the Wall’s microwaveable sausages too!
I’d ordered the wrong potatoes, I noticed. All those cakes, I honestly can’t remember ordering… no, honestly! Ahem! I wanted the Baking ones to try some cheesy potato-making again… Tsk!
I got a packet of the beef chunks in the slow-cooker. They should be ready for tonight’s nosh. I added some BBQ beef gravy seasoning to the slow-cooker pan and a drop of the liquid smoke – a spur of the moment decision… Mmm…
I dropped a packet of beef chunks off for Jenny and Frank; they can do what they like with it. Eat it or give it to a worthy cause. Bless them. Back up to the twelfth floor, and as I was entering the outer flat lobby…
Hehehe! I didn’t half-clout my shoulder on the door frame! I felt such a fool! But there was nobody around to hear the slightly unavuncular language that I muttered. I’d done an excellent job on the shoulder; I got inside and took an extra Codeine and back on the computer blogging.
While I’d been out, the photo thingy had opened on its own, and I got the photo of last nights meal before the program all froze up again. Humph!.
Garden peas, a whole packet, cause they were short-dated from Sainsbury’s. Fish sticks, tomatoes (Lovely they were), buttered sourdough sliced bread (Gorgeous!), a mini lemon cheesecake, and a cheesy twist. I recall eating this with relish. Flavour Rating from memory; 8/10
Then I started prepping the Local News Snipping blog.
Dizzy Dennis cometh on an unwanted visit. I gave up on the computer, with Cataracts Katie and Dennis it was impossible.
Made some nosh. A decent effort methought, but the flavour did not match the viewing. Taste rating: 7/10. The late dated J Sainsbury’s podded peas let it all down, and I do love them usually, but not these out of date ones.
Cheeky Charlie Carer came. Told me off, gave me the medications. She chose a Gin mix and Easter egg for treats, and left without taking the waste bags… but I noticed, and shot out of the door to catch her, asking her to take them…
Serves me right. I clouted my shoulder on the door frame getting back inside. Tsk!
Sleep was hard to get into, and it took me a few hours for some reason. However, once off into the land of nod, I only shot-awake three times overnight. I wonder if the Hemp is working?
