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?
03:00hrs I woke up and got up, out of habit…
The Thought Storms did not rabbit?
The reluctant brain remained asleep; Dagnabit
My plans ideas were vague, not implicit…
The memory did not want to work or cohabit…
Vascular-Dementia-Doreen, undoubtedly the culprit!
For about an hour, my thoughts were incipit…
Eventually, I got semi-mind-control, well, a little bit,
But confidence and hopes, the brain did prohibit!
I’d had a better nights sleep, six hours with only three jump-awakes. Mind you, it was still early, but the meandering mind had me out of the recliner, catching my balance, no wee-weeing, no making a brew of Glengettie; straight (well, in a wobbly line) to the kitchenette, and started cleaning the fridge?
I was not fully aware of what I was doing until I dropped a warm-wet cloth onto my foot. This is no bull! And it dawned on me what a good job I’d done of cleaning things up? So much so that I took photographs of my handiwork! How I’d done all the stretching and bending, and without any pains as far as I could tell, baffled me, somewhat.
Am I losing my grip quicker than I’d hoped? Not only was the fridge looking really clean and tidy, spick and span, but I also had no aches and pains, and apart from the one drop of the cloth, I spilt or broke nothing either? Yet another puzzle is how I got all this work done in such a short time? Efficiently too, as far as I could tell.
Or had I? How do I know that I did it at all? How can I not remember doing it all? Why can I recall taking out the door trays and washing them in the sink, quite clearly, but little else until the wet rag fell on my foot? Another Blank-Spell methinks… or do I? Why am I seemingly so willing to share and relate these rather odd things on the web? Dementia-Doreen again? Or mayhaps a call for help.
Even more surprising, why am I, after apparently coming out of the fog, feeling so good about things? Hey-Ho, Doreen again?
I had a reluctant wee-wee, washed, and got the laundry bag assembled for collection by the Carer later on. Then off to make a brew of tea, Thompsons Punjana this time. Although dour-looking, the view from the window made me take two shots of it and stick them together (Top of the page).
I pressed on updating yesterday’s blog with the most unexpected enthusiasm; I got it finished and posted off to WordPress. Did the WordPress comments, Emails (lovely one from HRH Lisa). Then I went on the WP Reader.
05:30hrs: And Herbert above started banging, clanging and tap-tapping again. He continued for several hours on and off; it sounded like he kept dropping something metal on the floor? I hope he hurts himself… I mean, he doesn’t hurt himself. ☠
♫ Oh, Susana’s ♫ tune rang out. In came Carer Cassie. Now, this may be hard for you to understand, but I had to ask her her name again this morning. The gal took it all in her stride, so I assume many others in these flats are affected by the dreaded Vascular-Dementia-Doreen, and cannot remember the Carers names the same as me? Hehehe! Cassie soon got the medicationings done, collected the laundry bag, and off she trotted, with a thank you nibble and drinkie-poo.
Ablutioning Time!
What a session that was! Mucho-super good, but listening to the Storm Update on the radio was a smidge alarming. For more than one reason. In the first place… ① No, I say zilch cuts when shaving! ② No teeth bleeding. ③ Not a single toe stubbing! ④ No banging into or knocking anything over! ⑤ No leaving taps running!
Storm Warning: Will reach Nottingham this afternoon, ETA 15:00hrs. Parks are closing cause of the danger of trees etc., being blown over. Building structural damage, roofs, etc. at high risk, possibly endangering life. And that’s just for Nottingham, where they anticipate we will be far less affected? All calm but cols out there at the moment, though.
The mark where I knocked over the knife block is clearing up well; it never hurt anyway. Showering went smoothly, too!
I dried off medicated what needed attention. The legs seem to be putting on some weight, higher up? Not surprising, really, I can’t get out and about much nowadays. Spit!
I even got the socks on without the dangerous nerve-wrangling assistance of the green wired Sock Glide Glenda!. This was the only part of the ablutionalisationing session that caused me any real pain. Even then, it was far less than usual. What’s going on today? The mind is confused; the body refuses to feel pain… I hope I’ve not died and nobody has told me? Hahaha!
Even getting the PP’s (Protection Pants) on, there were no tumbles or loss of balance that mattered?
The mini-scar where I hit my head attacking the power box in the shower three days ago is scabbing up well.
Freshened up with the Brute spray, and got the alarm wristlet back on, watch, and alert wristbands.
Ah, I thought things were going too well… well, they were! Putting the Warfarin Alert band on my wrist, it snapped and shot up, knocking of my spectacles! Luckily the frames and lens were not damaged (I hope). Not that the glasses are worth much now the Cataracts Katie, Glaucoma Gloria, and Saccades Sandra are all affecting my sight.
The Blood Pressure readings were okay. The temperature was even lower today, I tried it again later, and it was up to 24.5°c. So okay there now.
Back on the blogging, and Sister Jane rang on the landline. She was very concerned and worried… Oh, yes! She wanted to know if I’d still got the bottles of wine for her and Pete safely stored away… Hehehe!
We had a natter, but the line was terrible, made worse by our Jane having throat trouble, poor little croaker. She’s off to the doctor later; I hope she’ll be okay.
I did some more work on the blog, then decided to try the J Sainsbury site to see if they were going to deliver the Great Scot dried vegetables that Jane wanted. I’ve ordered them four times without any luck. Humph!
I tried to get through to Sainsbury’s and Ocado to see if they had any Great Scots in stock. Sainsbury’s off-line again! Ocado has removed them from the listings. Sorry, Jane!
Faded fast. Made a nosh of sorts.
Carer arrived without the laundry. She returned with it, crammed in the bag, no freshener or crystals used. Clothes not folded, and all wrinkled. Not happy with this at all.
Did you see that? I even got the year wrong! Dementia Doreen at work?
I woke up this morning (Sunday) not feeling giddy… Because I’d had a better sleep? Definitely! I’d woke up over the night, just six times, you see, Many of my ailments were not bothering me! Hard to believe it’s my unlucky Sunday!
But, things felt wrong, different, most notably… The dreaded Hum, so much louder than ever, unfamiliar… My nerve-ends continued with their uncontrollability, But with other pains not here, that’s almost a triviality, Although the eyes were terrible, cataractically!
If I get a Carer call, with they show uncongeniality? I shall try today to be calm and avoid perversity… Contain my nit-picking, self-loathing, and animosity… I’m too nervous about claiming I can have unflappability, Dementia Doreen gives the brain ungovernability, She changes my mood so quickly… The audacity!
Saturday
Saturday was a daymare! The eyes delayed all I tried to do. Not that I tried to do much, other than blogging, for over eleven hours in total. I was up from 02:40hrs in the morning until 21:00hrs at night! Computerisationing the majority of the time. Cataracts Kathleen, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, occasionally bothered further by Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Dizzy Dennis.
I created a Local News Snippets blog (now finally finished off and posted this morning, Sunday). You would not believe the mistakes, errors and messes I got myself into! Nothing else much was done at all. I did find some photographs on the SD card that prompted memories of Saturday if I can recall. Here they are with notes I’m part guessing at about them. Not many. And they may be our order chronologically, on Saturdays, sorry.
These sunset shots were, I believe, from Friday night. The first two in sequence, I have caught some Crows that had just broken up from a murder in the treetops to the right of the picture.
They were fully grown adults, judging by their sizes of them. In the second picture, I caught two of them. They were flying away from the flats at the time. I remember being surprised that I could recognise them.
The following two nights, the sunsets were hardly noticeable. But these ones, I thought, were so beautiful, even with muted colours (Is that the right word? I mean, not as vivid as it is sometimes).
I took just the higher part of the sky in the last photo, and I zoomed in an iota. The seemingly pink cloud amidst the blue-grey ones was so pretty to me. Mother Nature at her finest! ♥
I first utilised the A&D Medical Supplies, made in China Blood Pressure Monitor. Cor Blimey! Yet another near-perfect result. I believe I assumed a Smug-Mode!
The rest of the day was a bit of horror. Really frustrating and depressing for this non-compos-mentis, mentally & physically deranged, ailing old Inchcock. I fear the time is rapidly approaching when I’ll no longer be capable of blogging. Although Vascular Dementia Doreen sees to be affecting me more nowadays. If cataracts, glaucoma and saccades are ever repaired, that could be a life-saver…
Many hours later, I got the nosh prepared. Which also seemed to take an inordinately long time to do. I think it was through my depression and frustration, but I couldn’t eat much of the meal, despite it being tasty enough. A decent 7.5/10 for flavour content.
Washed the pots, had a wash and put the TV on to watch my favourite ‘Heartbeat’ two back-to-back episodes. Naturally, I fell asleep at the first set of advertisements that came on. Humph!
The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune of the door chime rang out and woke me up. Carer Valerie arrived.
It was only about ten minutes into the second episode of ‘Heartbeat’, so I thought I’d watch that one. I was wrong! Nodded-off again. Woke to want a wee-wee, and ‘Hetty Wainthrop’ was starting on the box – Oh, good! I thought, had my painful slow trickling wee-wee, washed my hands and settled to watch Hetty… Zzz!
Amazingly, I slept through for about four hours, lovely! Then the waking up with a jolt started again! Can’t win them all!
SUNDAY
With six sudden awakenings since around midnight, on this seventh one, I stayed up. I had to get up for Porcelain Throne duties anyway. Off to the wet room…
Rushing to get to the Throne, I misjudged the gap again. I walloped my right shoulder against the doorframe. There were some bits of bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Nothing too serious, though.
Expecting a messy evacuation again, I had a go at the crossword after getting seated. But didn’t have time to do many clues. The evacuation was a slow job, that needed a fair bit of pushing input from me. Not awfully painful, just uncomfortable. This I put down to Harold’s Haemorrhoids. This is a strange day!
It seemed I’d got out of the right side of the bed this morning? Despite the painful Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas, I was singing away to myself as I washed and oiled the earholes? In fact, I was rather upbeat in my thoughts, too! Well, well! This is a strange day!
Josie last week
Cleaned up and got changed into the day clothes. I remembered that I’d not put the laundry away from yesterday yet. So, I did.
I went to sort the prepping for Josies’ Sunday lunch. All foods to hand, and I got the chilli with some extra beans in the pan. Added the mushrooms, crispy bacon pieces, chestnuts, and diced in some tomatoes. Mild chill and BBQ seasoning, a splash of anchovies sauce, and tomatoes puree. All ready to tackle later on for the gal.
The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, had a better reading than yesterday too! A good bit higher.
The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune burst forth, I thought at first, with no one coming in, it was the Iceland Delivery, and someone had let him in, but no! It was the new Carer, Kiya. She has a bouncy, outgoing nature; it seems like she’s done the job before to me. Quick-witted, sharp, communicative, and very pretty! Kiya got the job done, we had a laugh or two, she’s sleeping very well at the moment, she said. Treated her to the nibble-treats, and off she went with a cheery farewell. I didn’t realise until later that she had not taken the three bags of waste with her. Humph!
The intercom flashed and rang… and I heard in the other room. This is a strange day!
The deliver chappie arrived at the door; he looked a smidge down in the mouth.
So after he’s put the bags into the hallway for me, I treated him to a can of his choice (Cider), thanked him, and got them into the kitchenette for sorting out.
There were two substitutes and four missing items. At least the substitutes sent were alright for me for once. The big bag of potatoes looked fresh, I thought…
I utilised the picker-upperer. And this one is one of the better, stronger ones. But it only just managed to lift the weight of the extremely heavy cheese-topped cobs! As I knocked the cheesy cobs off the trolley, they made a thudding sound as they hit the floor! Blimey, they were weighty!
Got the fresh strawberries delivered as well. One each for Josie, Flora and Richard. Not sure if the ladies name is Flora, it might be Flo Francis? Anyway, she lives in flat 8. I’ll take it down for her later on. (What the heck is her name?)
The Walls microwave sausages are for me; I’ve three packets in x6. Four sausages and baked beans flavoured with chilli, BBQ and Worcester sauce is the plan for tonight. Of course, then there is the challenge of breaking the cheesy rolls to dunk in the juice. I could well injure myself judging by how hard they are. Thanks, Iceland! I might use the drill on them?
Took a break and replied to emails and comments. Lovely one from HRH Lisa and comments from Billum.
Then I got Josie’s meal ready. I gave her some extras for Easter. A little egg, a chocolate bar, and her favourite can of plonk. I also handed over half of my strawberries in a separate bag.
Then I took the waste bags out to the chute room. And, I’d like to add (Smug Mode Assumed!); totally without any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplops! No trapped fingers, no walking into anything, no visits from either Dizzy Dennis or Shaking Shaun!
I’ve just come to the following line in the blog reminder pad. I’m curious to know what the heck this is on the left here; it is supposed to indicate for me to remember? Looks like 3 40ging? It’s beyond me! Mind you, I’m not surprised. I can’t even see what I’m writing, let alone read or see the subtitles on the TV.
Then I found this picture I’d missed from the SD card. It is sad, innit?
Vascular Dementia Doreen is active again, I see! I think I took this one earlier today when I got out of the wet room. On the other hand, it could be from yesterday… any day, any month…
Spent more hours doing the blog, then took the strawberries down to… ah, I think her name might be Doris? Anyway, she seemed to like them, bless her.
My next plan… get the bangers and beans done for my nosh. I found out what I thought I’d bought, Cheese topped rolls, turned out to be Tiger rolls. That’s why they were so heavy. Humph!
The beans and sausages were a bit of a disappointment, I fear. The baked beans tasted so different to what I anticipated? The little pots I made pots of mandarins in orange juice and some black grapes for dessert were excellent! Overall, a Taste Rating of 6.5/10.
Did the washing up and sat to watch an old film on the goggle-box. Fell asleep at the first commercial break. Woken well over an hour later, by the new Carer gal, Kiya looming over me asking if it’s alright if she puts the light on. Hehehe! She’d not pressed the door chime. I wish she would have, I mean… I could have been in physical rapture with a young lady on the carpet… Well, okay, not that then! Hahaha!
Kiya was in a good mood tonight. We had a little natter and laughed after doing the medications given. She stayed close by while I took them to check that none had come out through a big gap that used to be filled by teeth.
Off she trotted with a treat in thanks, and I had a wee-wee, washed, got into the night attire and back to the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.
I spotted a blue tablet on the floor. Only Warfarin tablets are blue. So, it seems I had dropped or regurgitated a tablet after all? That was with two of us watching? Bit of a mystery here?
I’d like to start with an embarrassment. Last night Caring Carer Julie came to sort me out. Julie, being the kind soul who got my pamphlets sent to HRH & Billum, in America all done for me. It wasn’t until the gal had left that a terrible, sickening thought came to me…
Old Photo of an old Nottinghamian
I can’t recall paying her for the packages and postage! Guilt runs through me, now. After all the time and efforts she’s spent helping me out as well. I tested my Vascular Dementia affected memory… I fear the worst and am pretty confident I have not paid my dues to Julie. If she might read this… Please, forgive me, and please remind me on the next call… Please! Sorry! ♥
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Photographicalisations From Yesterday
Morning Chest Way Car Park
I can’t remember when I took either picture,
It’s light, must have been late morning, I gather…
Off to the Porcelain Throne, I did jaunter…
All went well, no mess or blood to encounter,
Realised I’d left the walking stick in the shower,
The wet room I did reenter…
Went back… the funk I’d made I did encounter!.
I did take a photo of the car park, but as regularly occurs, for some reason: It didn’t make it onto the SD disc? As with the photograph I took of meal yesterday.
See the photo on the left? A fine example of when Inchcock fumbles about trying to put eye drops in.
I’ve found the missing snap of Sunday’s lunch though…or was it Mondays? Erm, yes, Monday’s! I’m nearly positive it was… I’ve taken to the Iceland beef pasties, a few onions and potatoes in it too.
Sunset photos, again of the beautiful blue-purple hue. There is something about this type of sky that makes me remember from about 1665, I’ll try that again, 1965. Hehe! TA manoeuvres on Exmoor. Each night then, the skies looked like these do. Nothing remarkable or exciting happened, but I did adore the view… Oh, no, we were needed (RAMC field unit) once, to dig out a fragment splinter from a Norwegian squaddies belly. Har-har!
I worked diligently on the blogging. Making more mistakes and losing aeons of time in finding out what I’d done wrong and fumbling bumbling about to correct things. I still don’t know how I kept getting into a pickle, or how I got out of them.
Vascular Dementia Doris and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, I imagine. Well, I know it was them. Hehe!
Esther arrived to do the washing
And I got an ear-bashing…
For wearing the wrong slippers, not hearing…
Buying things I don’t need, that she is cleaning,
Talking to me she walks away in a twinkling…
I hear her talking… babble not the words, so enraging!
She demanded a mug of tea, so I got brewing…
Esther rarely stopped still, to do her chinwagging,
She checked the kitchen drawers, foraging…
Her criticisms were ever-burgeoning…
The constant talking was very confusing,
Words muttered from the other room, absquatulating,
I got a few words in… well, I was attempting…
She even spoke through the door, as I was urinating!
Even when at times my mind was raging and racing…
Struggling to understand her, patience shortening…
Yet she’s such a character, I do find her engaging,
Never bored when is aboard, I’m not complaining…
It’s just that she sets my mind trampolining!
Sunsetting shots from the kitchen window
This is the new TV remote, that Esther sorted out for, and told me to order from Amazon. Why do I put this in the blog? I’ve lost the old one again, which I found after getting this one! Sad, innit?
Evening Carer Julie arrived, full details near the top of this page (photo). This is the first picture I took of my American gem, Julie. As you can see, I was a bit shaky at the time. Shaking Shaun! But Julies attention made everything feel so much betterer! ♥
I thought I’d update you are my mission to get three of the green house icons in the YourArea magazine. I’ve never got more than one, in months of doing them daily. Ah, well!
Off in Search in Sweet Morpheus…
After five nights of forever waking up, but fortunately nodding off pretty quickly again… but not for long, the waking has been so often, regular, at times five minutes between them! I’m even thinking of seeing the Doctor about it… What am I saying… see the Doctor… Hahaha! I can’t even remember what she looks like, it’s been that long since I saw… erm… what is her name now? It’ll come to me… or not.
I nodded off quickly tonight. Although the waking ups were there all the time once more, however, there was a lengthier time in between them. I reckon I only stirred about five or six times. Which sounds bad enough, but was far less than the preceding few evenings. I am expecting now I’ve said that something else will take over in annoying me… it usually does!
Good Morning
Up like a lark, 25 press-ups, a bit of shadow boxing, ten minutes on the weights, lifted…
Well, alright then. I woke and needed a wee-wee, as I got up to catch my balance, I ended up on my bum on the floor! This released the urine, burst some of Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and the jammie-bottoms pulled against Little Inchies fungal lesion, and the blood flowed! Not a good start to the day at all! But did it bother me? Yes, it did! Krugnangles! The next two hours or so I spent cursing, spitting, feeling sorry for myself, fed-up, medicationalisationing, cleaning things up, and generally at a low ebb!
I’m just so glad there is no CCTV in the flat. Because my limping to the wet room and medical box, walking as if I’d mucked myself, to hold in the blood and pee, was most embarrassing. I shouldn’t really tell you of these things, but it is a fine example of what may happen to the whippersnappers in later life, and how to contend with it? I’ll tell you how…
After the natural first reaction, as with me this morning; you can always find that something is going to temporarily improve your outlook, and often does.
Tips, Warnings & Advice For Whippersnappers
In my case, after medicating things, I had a shave… with zero nicks or cuts! Which hasn’t happened for months since the stroke. A positive there! Please read these tips, or you’ll kick yourself for absorbing this advice in fifty years or so. Be prepared! Know what you might have to contend with; I wish someone had warned me!
Next, forget all about what has happened, and make a brew of Glengettie tea. (With Vascular Dementia Doris, I have no choice other than to forget things, so, another positive there, see?)
Of course later on something will remind you… Little Inchie may start bleeding again, Arthur Itis may turn nasty with your knees, or Little Inchies fungal lesion, or Harold’s Haemorrhoids, may start to bleed again? (As they did for me) Just bad luck, that is!
After treating whichever ailment is in need of it, the old memory will fade again… it’s got its advantages as long as you look at it in the right way… which you will have forgotten by now.
Leaving the hot water (faucet) tap running, forgetting food is cooking, dropping something when you get Shaking Shaun on the job, toe-stubbing and walking into doorframes due to saccades, glaucoma, cataracts and stupidity, seem to be the most popular with me, currently.
Forgetting appointments and deliveries or if you had made an order at all, will play havok with your supplies situation. Combined with the substitutions from the supplier, you could well end up with four bottles of bleach, twelve (minimum) unliked cans of various substituted food in the cupboard, and no milk or bread… then I’m afraid the substituted can of processed pea and the mangled can of mulligatawny soup will just have to be tackled!
The state of the feet and ankles fair cheered me up a bit. Much better!
It was just bad luck when I stubbed my toe leaving the wet room. Humph!
The veins in the legs seemed to be all calmed down as well. See? Cheery news from the depths of depression! Not all good mind, Arthur Itis’s knees, and Shaking Shaun were both playing up. See that? Another positive there! If you are lucky enough to have so many complaints, illnesses, ailments etc., you will never get bored. Now, will you?
Got a brew of Glengettie made, and took this picture of the morning sky from the kitchenette window.
Yes… alright, I trapped my finger closing the window! It didn’t hurt, no bleeding, no scratches or bruising. Yet another positive! I suppose it depends on which way you look at it? For some reason, despite the painful awakening kerfuffle and pain, I’m feeling in good form. (Which must go some way to explaining Doris Dementia?
On with blogging until Carer Richard arrived. Lovely to have someone who is not in the rush-in-don’t-converse and off again standard. Going to make some cheesy spuds today, I’ll make some extra for the lad to try.
I’ll make a start on them, times getting on…
Pictures; If they come out alright, on the next blog!
Change of plans – someone just called to tell me there is a parcel down in reception for me. I was sure I had not got anything ordered. I thanked the lady and hobbled down to collect my surprise delivery from the lobby.
When I got down, there wasn’t a parcel for me, but were for numbers 82 and 74. Bless the lady, I think she got confused with the numbers. Got back to the flat, and the baked cheesy potatoes were already cooked. Blimey, they will hopefully keep for Richard and not spoil. I can put some in foil for him, then he can either eat them here or take them home. I do hope they keep for a couple of hours. Can’t put them in the fridge until they have cooled properly.
I’ll get this finished and posted off now. I’ll use the late photographs in tomorrows world-famous Inchcock Today blog. I just hope my hoard of fans doesn’t mind. Still, they are both decent sorts.
Maybe through the joys of ageing and dementia?
Gone are my days of romance and adventure,
Adventure is now trying a chilli-burger…
Pleasure is wee-weeing, not spraying my attire,
Porcelain Throneing can be a lot bloodier…
I can no longer do the Twist or Conger!
One time, I was known as a keen jogger…
Ageing and ailments, each can be a cruel bugger!?
Wednesday 26th January 2022
After a few hours of waking and drifting off again repeatedly, I rose gingerly, caught my balance, and sensed the warm damp feeling from the Protection Pants area. (Humph!) So, the first mission was to grab Metal Mickey and hobble to the wet room. Which I did.
The normal suffrage of pain getting things cleaned up and medicated. Little Inchies fungal lesion had bled well. But at least I caught it before the blood had dried and gone hard… it’s always agony getting the PP’s off and reopening the lesion if that happens. So, despite the pain, I was moving toward a chirpy outlook on things. (Which in itself is a rarity, nowadays, but it was not to last for long!).
Had a wash and shave, did the teggies, and got dressed. I’ve got a food delivery coming today… I think, from Ocado. It came shortly but had not supplied the veg that Sister Jane wanted, “Humph”.
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP: Into the kitchen… to find I’d left the oven on and the cold water tap running last night! The self-loathing and foul language instantly began with a venom that surprised me. So I hate myself that much? Well, yes, I suppose I do? Or maybe not… It’s just Vascular Dementia-Doris that causes these problems that I really hate!
However, a couple of slices of luck did ease my self-denunciatory outbursts somewhat. At least it was the cold water tap, and there was no plug left in the sink, so no flooding! And there was no food in the oven to burn. So really, it was like a Semi-Whoopsiedangleplop? (I smiled writing that!)
Working on the blog. Carer Richard arrived. I did the BP checks, and Richard recorded them as the new instructions for the next three days. A great result, miles lower than yesterday.
Then the food… Hahaha!
Got the bags into the kitchen.
As you may know, I got some ridiculously overpriced Kenyan podded peas, a weakness of mine. Part baked cobs. Desserts and M&S mini potatoes. (I had some later, these were totally tasteless!) Cornish pasties, yellow and Natoora black tomatoes (Delicious!) Also, a new M&S product, Marmite rings
The meaty, tasty Natoora Tomatoes!
The bank-manager-upsetting Marmite Dinky Cheese Wheels from Marks & Spencers. The whole packet weighed only about 4 ounces!
Potato Rosti Cakes, I’ve not had these for years. Due to not being able to get into the M&S store basement food hall nowadays, so looking forward to trying these later in the week.
Snapped the end car park situation. The small red car was in Red Van’s parking spot in the hatched no parking zone. The red van is still in the proper parking area. It seems residents have decided to ignore the yellow lines altogether.
☎ I got a call from QMC (Queens Medical Centre), Ophthalmology Department. The lovely lady asked me if I could get in on Sunday, for my first consultation meeting with an Optometrist, regarding the Cataract operations. Blimey, this was a quick appointment, I thought!
Then when she said with it being on a Sunday (Next), the realisation dawned on me, as she said there would not be any transport provided for me. Getting a taxi with the three-wheeled walker was not practical. And the buses were scarcer on Sundays and weekends. She said okay when I explained my having Vascular Dementia and not being very mobile. She would inform them and make another appointment, but this may take a while. She’ll arrange a lift for me.
Two weeks since my referral. So I imagine I’ll go back to the end of the queue again now? Which is a smidge deflating. But, fingers crossed. 🤞
Even when, or if, the Cataracts are ever done, then the Glaucoma and Saccades need doing. Hopefully, the glaucoma treatment will involve only eye drops?
If I live long enough, it will be more challenging than ever every morning, then: The new eye drops, ear drops three times a day already and rubbing in the Phorpain gel into Arthur Itis knees, and Back-Pain Brenda twice a day minimum. Little Inchies fungal lesion medicationing, nasal sprays… Not to mention all the medications that the Carers may or may not arrive to issue me with. Or the BP taking and recording, temperature, pulse… Humph! Oh, dearie me! Haha!
Wrote during a moment of inspirationing!
Still, that’s enough of the good things… For life is full of political hornswogglings… Lies, deceit, and human trafficking! Politicians, fiddling and grovelling… Respect, empathy and compassion annulling, Violence, hatred, mugging, knifing and brawling… Life has become scary, frightening and appalling!
Politicians deceit, egotism, conceitedness and backpedalling,
Back-handed best friends, particularly Dominic Cummings!
With his pathetic excuses, lies and manoeuvrings…
His utter contempt, for the populace, the human beings…
Government full of fan-dangling, flannelling and fumbling!
Faltering, fearmongering, with self-profiting festering!
The voters ignored, workers let down, shortchanging!
They are good at covering-up disinformation orchestrating…
Duplicitous fibbing, cheating enshrouding, and suppressing,
Will they ever become open and honest? No, that’s dreaming!
You’d have more chance of murderer hanging, reinstating!
We will never see political honestly and reliability purging…
Could you imagine the truth of Cummings divulging?
For too long now, MPs morality has been haemorrhaging!
Then, there’s the Royal Let-Down!
He is loathed, detested, his actions despised… Acting snotty about it, not very wise, he’s execrated, It’s time the pompous, imperious brat was excoriated! And the truth declared after it’s been traced!
He’s seeking a US jury trial, which may take a while, He’ll not be treated as any rank and file… The thought of special treatment brings up my bile… I’m not saying he’s an ephebophile or paedophile… But getting to the truth would be worthwhile, Acting superior is inbred with Andrew; he’s no style… Will we ever get to the truth – or am I being puerile?
Please enjoy,
Lightheartedly,
Some fiddledeedee…
Thrown in by me…
Can’t help it, you see…
I’ll have to flee,
Time for a wee-wee…
Then a mug of Glengettie tea!
Part of the Inchcock’s make them Laugh: In Ode Series
I was sitting, doing the blog, Inchcock Today, Got it nearly done, sorting out the scintillae… When, crunch… much to my utter dismay… The right patella plopped out of its socket! Well, it shot out like a rocket! Did it hurt, was I worried… Oh, nay! Just don’t believe all I say, Hahaha!
After the shock, I tried to get it back in…
Too tender to do any banging…
After much-failed faffing…
I thought this needed help and medicating,
I had a bash at knee cap relocating,
To ease things and stop it stinging,
I could hobble, but Gawd, it was stinging!
The lady on 111 was very obliging, Go to the hospital, she was saying… So I did, bravely… I’m not bragging… Finished the blog and was not cringing! Set of to the QMC, without whinging.
By the time I got down to the ground floor, Bearing in mind, I’m a bit of a procrastinator, Should I be busing it there? Is this an error? A taxi will be costly but will save some furore… I’ll phone for one, but again a failure! I’d left the mobile behind; what an adventure!
I shuffled painfully back into the elevator, Up to the apartment, entered, and for sure… Knocked my knee on the door furniture! The pain turned to agony at the conjuncture… I had a close look at the knee. Is it a fracture?
But luck, as you may know, is a fickle creature… With swelling down to the fibula and tibia, Gobsmackingly within minutes, the discomfiture… The pain was showing signs of divestiture! But the agony was still nowhere near miniature!
Now, amazingly, I was going far less squirming… The knee cap to the socket I saw returning! Which I thought was very easing and welcoming, I hobbled far easier, for some more wee-weeing!
Of course, the thought ‘would it pop-out again?’… I wasn’t too bothered if the bad luck came back again, It’s bound to, assuredly, guaranteed, for certain… But this knee-cap returning I can’t explain?
Good Luck? A stranger to my scatterbrain, But I like getting it and hope to again… Ayup! I walked into the doorframe… Now I’ve got a new bruise and back pain! That’s better, much more like my scene! Was this whole escapade transpadane?
Inchcock is still not capable of kneeling or genuflection, He’s not a technician… more a poor theoretician! Inchcock leans towards visualisation rather than realisation… He’s used to existence with trepidation and tribulations, Throwing his poor hearing and sight into the equation… The fool accepts all his failures, hassles and aggravations! Yet throughout, the old fool has shown great determination… Patiently waiting for some good lucks germination…
Well, he got some yesterday… His knee returned to the socket, of its own orchestration, And what does Inchcock have to say? “It burst out like a fulmination…” “I failed to get it back in by manipulation!” “Going to the hospital, realised I left my communication…” “Back to flat for the phone, due to my vacillation…” “Clouted me knee, which caused me much confusing elision…” “So, Vascular Dementia Doreen proved to be my salvation…” “I’d have missed this miracle cure without memory erasion.”
Hence: Ailments mental and physical can cause depression…
Hypertension, apprehension, confusion, even tintinnabulation!
Procrastination; and indeed, physical and mental putrefaction
Infection, infestation, digression, marginalisation…
Occasionally like yesterday, it can cause jubilation!
Well, that’s my impression!
Time for some self-inebriation?
Part of the Inchies True Make Them Laugh Ode Series
I’m getting most frustrated. The picture uploaded is not being recognised, so getting taken photos in is difficult. This morning on starting the computer, it worked, once only – and went back into hide-mode! So, again I’ve got photographs that I cannot use.
At least it did allow me to get some in from yesterday; before it died a death. But it will not recognise them from today. Screen windows keep changing size. CorelDraw going off of its own accord…
Here are the ablution ones rescued from Sunday.
I took another photo this morning, but I can’t get it onto the computer – Humph! The left ankle appears to be erupting with an ankle ulcer building in prospect, as the right ankle ulcer seemed to be fading at last? The concentrated marks have all but gone, but blood’s fuzzy dark blue vein spots have increased? Possibly something to do with the DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis?), but I don’t really know… I do a lot of that… not knowing!
Feet before getting in the shower.
After drying off from the shower
Sock-Glide-Glenda
Using Glenda, prompted Back-Pain-Brenda, Bleeding Blair, Arthur Itis, and then Toe-Stubbing Thomas to kick-off! Anne Gyna joined in later, as did Shaking Shaun.
I had to use the dreaded Sock-Glide-Glenda
Yes, I had to use the dreaded Sock-Glide-Glenda, Getting the socks on was a right painful bugger… I was bruised, bleeding and felt like I’d been on a bender! Both feet and legs felt like they’d been in a blender!
I wouldn’t call my Sock-Gliding operation artistic…
At times things went somewhat troublingly ballistic,
Sometimes it was unintentionally aerobatic…
Occasionally convincing me I’m becoming autistic,
On one occasion, the bleeding was near fatalistic,
However, through the agony, I resisted getting too frantic!
Since becoming a resistant, nervous Sock-Glide operator,
Using it scares me, my nerves are shattered – well, poor,
I always end up bruised, bleeding, and feeling sore!
Split fingernails, trapped fingers, stubbed toes, bruises and more…
Before tackling it, I force myself into being perfervour…
Why? I don’t know, well I think I might, but I’m not sure!
Can I get any help with this? Mayhaps psychiatric?
Medicationalistical? Uppers, or something anabolic?
Bearing in mind, I’m uneducated, almost analphabetic…
Especially difficult, I’m sure that I suffer dyscalculic,
Which is nothing to do with Sock-Glide-Glenda…
It seems I have, as happens ad infinitum, lost track…
This occurs sometimes, but I might get it back?
At last, I got the bamboo diabetic socks on. Haha!
But I have to wear the socks again on Tuesday…
Tomorrow… to go to the bank, Oh, criminy!
It may send me over the top – Potty!
But these fears I must delay…
I wish they’d invent socks you can put on with a spray!
But help is coming, in the beautiful form of Jillie ♥,
The very thought of seeing her sends me giddy,
Big problems sink when I see her, to scintillae…
The opticians in the morning that’ll be jolly…
And cost a lot off lolly – needles in the eyes, Ho-ho!
Glaucoma and cataracts mean the iris’s are too narrow…
After that, they can see the degree of the problem, I hope so…
Then decide on treatment; it’s got to be done, though!
This morning, I’d like to start with the worst of YourArea news items. To get it out of my system; So maddening!
Double child killer Colin Pitchfork could be cleared for a move to open prison within months after being returned to jail because he was approaching young women.
Murderer Colin Pitchfork, 61, was arrested and recalled to prison.
The convicted killer had allegedly been ‘approaching young women’ while on walks.
But Parole Board is now considering moving him to an open prison setting
Pitchfork was jailed for life in 1988 for the rape and murder of 15-year-old girls
He was released from Leyhill prison, near Tortworth, Gloucester., two months ago
What sort of demented, do-gooder idiots sit on Parole Boards? How often have we heard of released scum killing and committing the same crimes again? How can the panels be fooled so often into releasing people to kill again?
What is the solution? Is there one? Well, yes! But it would probably not be considered practical. The Civil Rightists would think my idea too reactive for the libertarians, namby-pambies, egalitarians and guilty themselves of the crimes that people they have freed, committed, members of the Parole Boards!
Above all, they would consider the costs of keeping criminal sleazebags long term in prison. No doubt encouraged to be lenient, or even bribed; threatened or maybe, instructed, by the Government of days Justice Minister and Home Secretary?
Justice Department Wasted Money
Dominic Raab’s department wasted a ‘staggering’ £238m on an array of botched projects last year; Electronic tagging systems that were never used and software so bad it is causing industrial disputes are among sources of waste at the Ministry of Justice! The biggest-ticket item driving up the level of waste was £98.2m on a new case management system for electronic tagging of criminals – which was then scrapped before it could be used.
The department also had to pay an extra £72.1m HMRC because it had incorrectly reported the employment status of some of its workers, being hit with a further £15m penalty for breaching the rules. Then, £14m was paid to private contractors running probation services for the department breaking their contracts early, even though those companies had failed to hit their targets to reduce re-offending! This part of the cash was returned to the Treasury.
So, a Governmental decision was made to free prisoners early on parole. Boy, have they got guilt on their hands now! Fungleturds! The accountableness for their complicity with the powers that be, to me, means they should be punished themselves.
Are these living-in-another-world enfants-terribles even aware of their blame, but the effects that their moronic namby-pamby, spineless, effete decisions have had on the innocents involved? The parents and relations of these two daughters, the other family members, schoolmates, friends. It’s ruined their lives too! Two wrongs don’t make a right, but it would have levelled the field if the animal Pitchfork had been executed.
So, how can we save money in and on prisons? We stop supplying Gym equipment, computers, telephones etc. then, stop giving them free medications. Mental and physical. Cut back to the type of food that I manage on, no luxuries. Baths or shower only once every six months. When they escape, it should be easier for the dogs to trace them. I am not proposing this for all prisoners, of course. Only the violent ones. And if possible, which it won’t be, bring back executions. But offer them a choice first, of which way they would prefer to go. Hanging will be out, though; that is cruel. Beheading, poisoning or being tied up securely and left in a cellar for three days with relatives and family of the murdered victims. I feel this would be more of a deterrent than the current system. Oh, and no visitors!
I got a bit carried away there! Ah, well, I’ll press on!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Another murder in Nottingham. Stabbings, druggies, shoplifting, gangs galore. I don’t think I can take anymore!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It sounds like another lost cause for the police.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Firearms, drugs, organised slave trade, burglaries… I think we had a poisoning last week?.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
That’s the spirit, Your Honour; Nip this violence in the bud while they’re young. Scare them to death with your nerve-wracking punishments… Oh, tagging him? Fine!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A little too close for comfort?.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –.
Blimey, £9.35 per prescription. Hand on, I’ll utilise the calculator to find out how much it might cost me… Strewth! Blimey and heckithump; £149.60 a month!
I woke around 04:20hrs: With some memories of the dream still prattling about in the brain. I lunged to get the notepad and pencil from the Ottoman; and realised they were lying between my legs, and well scribbled on, too! (Somnambulistic activity?) So I added the new bits to it and left the pages to be used later in my reminiscing of the ultra-weird dream.
Off into the kitchen, no taps, stove or lights had been left on. More amazingly, Shaking Shaun was not affecting the legs again! That’s been around eighteen hours of relief, now!
I took a photo of the clear dark morning sky. And decided not to make a brew of Glengettie, 99, or even the usual refreshing Thompsons Punjana tea; this bothered me!
Something was out of sync here this morning… most likely me! Summat up here! No shaking legs, no toothache, no desire for a mug of tea, not wanting a wee-wee…
However, I maintained my earlier om waking, almost gung-ho, hey-ho outlook, and just pressed on with updating the Facebook, catching up a bit with it anyway. I was humming the door chimes’ tune to myself, not in need of a cuppa, and as I thought I was also not in need of a wee-wee… the flow started. And continued approximately every fifteen minutes and was only taking the occasional swift swig of the spring water?
As I indicated earlier, things seem discrepant, incompatible, and incongruous today. Yet I am not put out by this… at the moment.
Working on Facebook, I came across last nights photograph of my meal. This brought back to me how tasty it was for once. Fresh garden raw peas from Nicaragua, tomatoes from Holland, sausages from Poland, chips from England, and part-baked oven cobs from Ireland. American BBQ sauce. An international feast! That I gave a Taste-Rating of 8.2/10!
I went on the WordPress reader, had a wee-wee, answered some comments, took a pee, readied this blog, had a slash, and the door chime chimed out its ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune. It was the morning Carer came to sort out my medications. No messing with this gal, all done nada off in eight minutes, kindly taking the waste bags to the chute for me as she departed.
Minutes later, the ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune chirped up again. This was the Sainsbury’s order arriving. Boy, had I ordered a lot or what? I’d got some cheapo eggs in. Ten for £1.10.
After taking in the items, I managed to get the chuckles into the fridge; first, there was only enough room, and I had to do a bit of jiggling around to get them into the fridge door.
They were mixed in sizes from diddly to small. Hehe! Not that it mattered to me. They were all a lovely deep brown colour.
I knew there was not much room in the freezer, so I only ordered some McCain flavour maker fries. Although I somehow managed to buy three packets of them… £9 spent there!
The first load of fresh stuff into the fridge were, Fresh peas and a milk roll loaf. Humph! Another cock up made, I’d obviously ordered three bags of potatoes, all of a different type.
Ready meal foods next. Five of the prepared meals; four Sausage in onion grainy and sweet potato mash, and one chilli and chips, all watchers, WW! Three packets of cooked bacon. (Guilty!)
Then the costly, naughty, wicked, and guilt-ridden things were put away. Oh, dearie me, yes! Three Lemon Cheesecakes. Mandarin pieces in orange jelly and two fresh cream eclairs… no, that should be doughnuts. Ahem! A substituted for lemon yoghourts. Lemon & Lime Possets. (Ahem!) I’ve never heard of these before, but on reading the ingredients: Double cream, whipping cream, lemon juice, lime juice, sugar, lemon zest, thickener, agar and cornflour – I realised how bad it was, and decided not to eat it, naturally.
I took the rubbish bags accrued by storing the fodder away to the rubbish chute room. Then it happened… The shaking and wobbling started again en route with the bags. Luckily I’d taken the stick with me; thus, I avoided having an Accifauxpa and tumble!
I can’t say the same thing for inside the chute room. Tsk! Nowt too lousy mind, just a trapped finger and back-Pain Brenda kicked off after I knocked the stick over and bent down to retrieve it. I’ve had a lot worse.
I got back in the flat and decided that if things were getting back to normal with the ailments, I’d take an extra painkiller now, have another wee-wee, and get the kitchen floor cleaned while I was still capable. So, I did!
BPB was not too happy with me, but she could have been a lot worse. Arthur Itis was almost nonexistent as I treadmilled mop bucket spinner. I did manage a toe-stubbing in the process, but only a mild effort, so I pressed on with the job, even humming a tune to myself?
Until I emptied the bucket down the lavatory; I gave myself a really good toe-stubbing then! It made me wince a little, and I just may have used a naughty word or two… perhaps, maybe.
That was bad enough, but then I dropped the bucket and got covered in the sweet smell of lemon disinfectanted but dirty water! I hit my knee with the mop stay and generally sank down from my previously almost cheerful state to a genuinely pissed-off with myself semi-depressed!
I was even angry with myself! I may well have growled and questioned my parentage! I’d gone from being practically flippant and almost uncaring, not concerned, to a deep depression instantly! My world had been turned on its head. I knew it had to happen! Back to the lucky bugger I am, that things being almost semi-content, just couldn’t last, and I knew it. Thinking this actually helped me to perk back up a smidgeon.
Go me and the place cleaned up, had a wee-wee, and got on the computer to start this blog. After five minutes, I was back at the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with a lot of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling). That needed shaking and wiping – and…
The door chime chimed again; I had to pack things away swiftly, as I saw a shadow had let itself in along the corridor, and I did not want to make whoever it was to laugh by displaying Little Inchy.
Esther, the cleaning lady, came in. Unfortunately, in my rush and haste to get Little Inchy undercover, his Fungal Lesion started bleeding! I couldn’t just leave her and get it medicated, but I don’t think she noticed anything she shouldn’t have. So, I had to grin and bear it.
The gal got straight on with gathering and taking the laundry for me. Esther returned after I’d cleaned and medicated Little Inchies problem. Now I had a little more pain to put up with!
But I coped well enough, back to the usual style of semi-coping and mild agony. Haha!
When Esther returned, I got the new ironing board unwrapped, and the gal got using it quickly. I was amazed at how fast she was doing the ironing for the first time on the new board.
She hung up the clothes in the hallway for me; bless her! After that, I got the chair covers back on and started to feel more my usual self.
Laundry down for me; bless her. A lot of what she said, a little too fast for me, and when I asked her what she said, the volume was too high, and her speed was the same. I hope I’ve not missed anything that was important? I thanked her, and she shot off. She’s a kind thing. ♥
So, I decided to get a mug of tea at last; as I stood up, shoeless, I trod on something hard, sharp and tiny. Can you believe it… I can, Hehehe! It was yet another escaped, dried like granite garden pea! How the heck do I not see or find them earlier? I’ve hoovered the carpet near the computer several times last and once this, and still, it gets missed! It must have been fled weeks ago, to be that hard? Ah, well!
It’s getting dark earlier than ever today. Took a snap of the end car park.
Then back to working on this blog. In between going for a leak, of course. Then fatigue dawned on me, so I stopped to get some nosh sorted.
As I was prepping the fodder, surprisingly, suddenly everything seemed to light up. The sun was having one last attempt at coming through, and I got the camera to snap it. Not a good effort, but still.
Sausages with a drop of onion gravy, carrot and leek potatoes, coiled potatoes finished off in the oven, fresh Nicaraguan garden peas, and a Lemon & Lime posset pot. Not as good as last night’s, but a score of 7/10 for flavour was given.
Washed the pots and back to the chair to eat the posset… Zzzz! Off into a deep sleep, I trundled and had the dream, as I had mentioned earlier…
.
I was in a shopping centre or big market. As I went along, it dawned on me that the three-wheel walker was behind me, and I was pushing a shopping cart ahead; I turned to look for a supermarket where I assumed I had taken the shopping trolley; from… Then noticed that the three-wheeler was following behind, under its own steam? Then as we came to an escalator, I hesitated, and other shoppers were getting annoyed, asking me what the problem was.
I said I can’t get on the escalator with two trolleys… and I got the oddest of looks, and people laughed at me. One woman asked if I’d escaped from somewhere?
“What’s its name?”
“Who’s?”
“The trolley you pillock!” “Tsk! are you poorly or what?”
“I call it my walker?” With which she snapped her fingers and commanded, “Walker… Fly! I thought, even in the dream, something’s not right here? But the three-wheeler raised up like a Darlek in Dr Who and flew gently down to the bottom of the escalator!!! Wait for me at the bottom!”
When I followed the others down, I realised that there were no moving steps, just a controlled cushion of air, that we were using?
And I could see down on the floor below, trolleys of all sorts waiting for their owners and running to their side when they got down. And mine did the same? seeing other folks sending the trolleys to get things from the shops, I tried it… “Walker, Boots, get a large tube of Germolene!” And of he waddled off to the Boots store…
A ganglet of young ladies surrounded me, asking for my signature, and would I sing them a song? Like pricking a bubble, instantly they were all gone?
I sat on a bench, trying to make sense of all this…
I was woken up by Carer Lisa. I didn’t mention the dream.
Lisa did the medications, and she shot off; she was busy tonight.
I’ve got arithmophobia, numbers leave my head in a haze,
No doubt, I’m an old gentleman, who is easy to faze,
Trying to understand and or appraise,
Easy, back in my earlier days,
Confusing now, my brain decays…
Facts and figures mixed, like mayonnaise!
This is clearer to me, a lot less bull,
+113.6%, well, that’s plainly plentiful!
Far too high for things to remain uneventful!
In fact, we must indeed all be very careful…
Or things can easily become more fatal!
I’m not sure why this was in the news at all?
This article is not likely to amuse or enthral?
Still, nice to see summat that’s not hard-ball,
I should welcome an item that’s not conflictual!
What is conditional bail?
Bed at a certain time?
Don’t stab anyone or impale?
Collect your dole on time?
Or eat only Wensleydale?
Don’t commit another crime?
Or is conditional bail, a dwale?
Here’s a right git who is rather unnice!
He’d drunk-driven before… Twice!
Nearly six years he got, very nice,
He was tried at Derby, didn’t apologise…
Better than the Nottingham Court guys…
They’d given him a month and free pork pies!
I can’t believe it, just two years… surely?
Our justice system is a tragi-comedy!
It defies logic and believability,
Saving money, with short sentences essentially,
Do we spend too much locking them up excessively?
Starve the gits! Forget about doing things humanely,
Or did the scumbag pretend to act demurely?
I find it hard to make a comment on this scum!
I’m sure she meant no harm at all,
By gum, she’s persistent, in for the long haul,
Though to be honest, it is only natural…
When the grandkids want drugs, avoid being conflictual,
Wanting to please young Elvis and Myrtle?
Brothers Jamil and Shakeel Amin spearheaded the group, who, in their twenties themselves, had a significant influence on young people in the city, who they were targeting since 2018. They were found to have long lists of clients, with frequent phone calls and texts relating to buying the likes of cocaine, MDMA and ketamine. Two members even bragged that they had so much money they could throw fivers ‘in the bin’, and the video of 29-year-old Shakeel Amin and 22-year-old Zain Mushtaq casting the notes aside was shown during the court case involving nine people as part of a drugs conspiracy.
I thought I’d end on a higher note, the top gang bullies got seven years each. It should have been a lot more, but with our justice magistrates and judges, it was a miracle they got seven!
Part of The Inchcock Local News Snippet Series – In Ode
