Tuesday 15th May 2018

Scottish Gaelic: Dimàirt 15 Cèitean 2018

0400hrs: I stirred into imitation life and waited for the brain to join me. First thing I observed was an extraordinarily detailed and mostly readable scribble on the notepad. It related to an odd dream I’d had last night. (Most of them are strange though, aren’t they?) I used this later on, in updating the Monday diary.

I had to move a bit sharpishly to get the Health Checks done and updating, as I did not want to be late for the bus for the Melton Mowbray Market visit with some other tenants. This will be a hopefully happy dépaysement for me.

No pleurodynia pains today. Got on with the Helth Checks.

The sphygmomanometer was taking many efforts to get it to work and coming up with EE (Error) messages on the screen.

A call to the Porcelain Throne had to be responded to. A good session, no bleeding from Haemorrhoid Harold at all!

Back to the hemadynamometer, which operated first try this time.

The pulse is a bit low again. As for the tea, most enjoyable.

I got on with updating the Monday post. Made a graphic to use in the tale of the dream. Got it completed and posted off.

Began on this one up to here. Time to get the ablutions tended to.

All readied, I kerfuffled, grubbled and fumbled around with much ingemination, and eventually got, what I hoped would be everything needed for the little bus ride and the visit to Melton Mowbray Market.

Arriving in the lobby, to find nobody around. Then wondered, had I make a Whoopsiedangleplop over the timing?

I took an amble outside to take some photographs.

Back into the foyer and sat doing a crossword. Others arrived, led by Jenny. We all had a natter for awhile, and the mini-bus arrived. A new Ford Transit, about a 14-seater. We mounted, got out seat belts on and soon we were off travelling.

Considering how annoyingly uncomfortable and hard the seats were, the draught coming through the open sunroof creating an annoyance, and enjoyable to listen to nattering from the other, I don’t know how many other residents from both Courts: I fell asleep in seconds.

I woke up as we drove by the Nottingham City Homes flats in Sneinton. By the time I’d got my camera out, we had gone by them. The seats, the seats with an inbuilt hatred for Haemorrhoid sufferers, ensured that no more nodding offs occurred for the rest of the journey.

Jenny was in good form, I love listening to her tales and always end up smiling to myself when I hear them. And, she asked if the sunroof could be closed when others asked her.

Luckily, I had taken some codeine with me and took two, which helped diminish the pain level from the rear end, a tad.

Jenny had it all in hand when we arrived in the coach park in Melton. She aided us all to get off the bus and reminded us that if we feel a little strained or drained, the bus will be here and open for any of us to call back to and have a nap. (I knew she was aware of my tendencies to nod-off and fade in the early afternoons, bless her.) I was well impressed with the gals and guys at the speed with which they all shot off. I followed in their wake so I could find out where the Market was. I caught up with them at the Pelican lights, and Jenny pointed out which way to go to the market.

Frank was over the moon at seeing there was a Wetherspoon pub located nearby, just over the road from the bus park. His wonderful smile lit up, and I had to smile too. Bless him.

We all split up, and I made my way to the market.

I kept meeting up with Jenny and Frank as I hobbled around the market street. I think they might have thought I was haunting them. Hehe!

I did get a pair of dark trousers that were my odd-size. Short legs, wide stomach, Hehe!

I ambled around, going up alleyways and side streets, I was amazed I didn’t get lost.

I decided not to buy any Pork Pies until after I’d perused all the places selling them. I did have a look at the Dickinson & Morris shop to see what they were offering.

The only other ones on sale were at a Market Stall, but they had some pork pies without tops or lids and had squashed extra-strong blue Stilton cheese in place of the crust. £5 each.

I met again with Jenny and Frank, who were sat outside a Caffé Nero. Jenny invited me to sit with them for a while, and a lovely natter ensued. One of the tenantesses from Winchester Court joined us for a while.

I had a limp around outside the market area and came across the River Eye. A shallow river near a Rest Home and the Memorial Gardens.

I did take a picture of the waterway, but it seems to have gone off into the ether, for I could not find it on the SD card in the morning when I started this update?

I decided to fetch the Pork Pies. Finding the Dickinson & Morris Ye Olde Pork Pie Shop to get a £4.95 pie, and then the market stall to purchase a £5 stilton topped pork pie was surprisingly easy for me.

Once I had these purchases in the bag, hunger pangs arrived. I called into the Iceland store and bought a bottle of fresh orange juice, mini pies, and some cheese-topped cobs.

This simple meal went down so well. I sat on a bench outside the shop and sat there for ages,  slowly enjoying this feast in the sunshine. Had to keep the hat on though, shame.

After the agony from Haemorrhoid Harold at getting back up after so long a sit, I meandered back towards the bus park and thought about going into the Mobility Shop there, to see if they had any picker-uppers for sale.

But was put-off when I saw a dirty-great big bloke in blue overalls coming out of the place. Slash scars on his face, tattoos everywhere, dark, sinister eyes, a twitch in his left eye, rings on his ears, nose, and lips… eurgh! Put me right off that did!

I noticed some activity near the bus at the other end of the park. It looked like they were a lot of us old folks ready to go home, (I was!).

I joined them and soon got seated and belted up ready. Haemorrhoid Harold was burning and stinging away at me! Hehe! The rest of our party were assisted by Jenny to get settled and soon we were off, back to the place we all call home.

As the driver bloke reversed out of the parking space, I took this photographicalisation.

I was listening to the conversations that I could make out the others were having… I’m not sure how long it took, but it felt like seconds later, I fell asleep.

I woke to find the bus had pulled up and folks were alighting with the help of Jenny. Missed the trip back there, didn’t I?

The driver dropped the Winchester Court folk off first, then went down to Woodthorpe Court to release our clan.

I realised as I stirred and got ready to get off the bus, that I had not taken any photographs as I had intended, of Jenny and Frank. Humph! Schlemiel!

The first one I thought was the bestest of all the three.

I pointed out after taking it that it looked like Frank was indicating something naughty. Hehe!

The clan were all eager to get back to their flats, no doubt all for different reasons. I imagine some would be requiring the use of the porcelain throne, a cup of tea or coffee?

Or like me, desperate to check if I had left the tap running again or not! I Hadn’t, Phew!

I took the last shot of Jenny with the driver. Nice effort I thought, considering how tired I was.

Some words were shared, but the brain just cannot recall what was said, now. Klutz!

When I got in, Herbert above was clattering away on and off until 2006hrs! Which prevented me getting to sleep, despite how shattered I felt.

Still, no need to make owt to eat. Did the Health Checks. Had a wash, utilised the Porcelain Throne, had a rinse, changed into jammies and got down to watch the TV, thinking this would get me off to sleep.

I even had the headphones on when I heard another clatter from Herbert, it surprised me, just as I was drifting off again, too!

Monday 14th May 2018

Danish: Mandag den 14. Maj 2018

0325hrs: I woke with an abjectness and lugubriosity, undoubtedly brought on by the usual weekend’s loneliness, self-pitying and depression. The moment the brain engaged with the body, and I moved to extract my body-mass from the £300 second-hand recliner; the head and shin bruising reminded me of yesterday’s Whoopsiedangleplop when I fell off of the step-ladder while trying to change the light bulb. A behind-the-eyes headache that followed is still with me. Tsk!

The usual ailments all seemed to be kind to me at this moment. Well, apart from Duodenal Donald and Little Inchies lesion, anyway.

Off to the kitchen to take the medications, do the Health Checks and make a brew.

It was really pippy in the apartment again, this morning.

To the computer and made-up the record for last week on Excel.

Off to the Porcelain Throne. A much better, more comfortable and less messy evacuation this time. Good!

Back to the kitchen to make a second small mug of Breakfast Tea.

The wind was whistling in through where the plastering repairs were done last week.

Both the left and right-hand sides of the window frame was blowing in, around the room and right up my jammy bottoms! Hehe!

Oh, dearie me. I no longer own a dinky, just the right size clear glass milk jug. Schlemiel!

Dropping and smashing it was bad enough in the first place, but getting back up off of the floor after retrieving the shards of glass, and wiping up the milk, proved far more pestiferous for me! Humph!

I started to feel a little more down-in-the-dumps, despondent, after this klutzy Whoopsiedangleplop.

We all have to endure and tolerate accidents, misadventures, calamities and setbacks; but I seem to get such vast amounts of these?

Think about it: Born into the world and Mother’s first words to the Midwife were “I don’t want it, throw it in the Trent!” I caught double-pneumonia at the age of three. Mam and Dad were fighting all the time. Born with the smallest appendage ever. Thrown in the canal at five-years-of-age. Sister goes to live with relatives. Older Brother goes in the army, ends up in Hong Kong and stays there. Mother kept running away when she got too much in debt, returning now and then for a few weeks after Dad had paid off the bills she’d accrued in between, and she’d be off again. Me and Dad now. Got shot then stabbed while being a security guard. A hernia and Duodenal ulcer came along. Prostate Cancer next. New Aorta Valve ticker next. Then the reflux valve played up. Arthur Itis started. Hearing aids fitted. Hippy Hilda kicked off. Been mugged three times. I had the house broken into five times. Lost driving licence after the ticker operation. I got a parking ticket charge from Manchester, where I have never driven! Haemorrhoids become rampant, still waiting for ops. Moved into independent living accommodation. The flats are being upgraded, carpets destroyed, holes in walls, can’t hear the fire alarm and got a noisy neighbour living above me.

Got a bit morbid, frustrated and self-hating again there. Sorry about that.

Back to make another small mug of tea.

The usual morning blue-hue out through the kitchen window.

Got on with finalising the depressingly downbeat Sunday diary.

Posted it off to WordPress. Which once again started spell checking in American English. I had to go in settings yet again, but it was already on UK English? Back to the edit page and it was now correcting for UK English? All part of Whoopsiedangleplop ridden luck of this old chap.

Another mug of tea went cold, so off to the kitchen to make yet another one.

I got some Black bean cook in sauce in the slow cooker, then got the vegetables (Shallot, red onions, orange peppers, tomatoes and turnips. although of course are a fruit, not a vegetable) chopped up and placed in with lemon grass, onion salt, tomato puree and BBQ seasoning. Added a little balsamic vinegar.

When I’d got in the crock-pot, I took a close-up photographicalisation. Of a spoonful of the concoction.

How I managed to get the red first shot, I don’t know? I tried again without changing any settings, and it came out alright? What did I do wrong?

0550hrs: Herbert was making a bit of banging noises? Only the two of them, then nothing followed? A bit early that!

I recalled that tomorrow was the trip out on a coach to Melton Mowbray Market. I must get to pay Jenny for the outing later, and ask her what time the bus leaves. I’ll try to remember on the way back from Arnold to call and ask her.

I made a start on this diary.

0755hrs: Off to get the ablutions tended to. Jolly-good shave, teggies were done and a showering session of depth and a reasonable duration.

Made up the waste bags from the bins, and took them to the refuse chute.

All readied, I grubbled about and did the double-checking, had I left anything on that should be off or visa-versa, taps lights etc. routine.

And, then I was off. As I arrived at the Oberscharführeress Warden’s temporary HQ & Social gathering shed, I met Obergruppenfurheress Deana as she was coming out to do her rounds. We spoke briefly. But being as I have been forbidden by the Nottingham City Homes Management, from revealing any words spoken twixt myself and the lovely Deana and Julie on my blog; I shall say no more!

I turned back to facing the Woodthorpe Courts, and the new build extra care flats and Gefreiteress Wardens new HQ is being built. The rooftop recreational seating area will soon be finished at the rate these lads are going. I took this photographicalisation, in the not as warm as it looks, sunshine.

Got into the Obersturmbannführeress Catwalk Models and Warden’s temporary HQ & Residents Social gathering hut. To find There were about a dozen or so folks in there, and more joined us inside, and others added to the queue outside at the bus stop. Inside, I listened to their gossiping and discussions over which are the best types of bets to have on horse races and the optimum bookie to use for the best odds. Led by one of my neighbours, bless the little addict. Not that he is little!

No one to talk to on the bus, all my fellow tenants bar one, got off in Sherwood, where a lady and I went on into Arnold.

I was surprised at how many shoplifters there were about on Front Street on a Monday, as I made my way to the Asda (Walmart) store.

Where I spent a fortune again! Tsk! I took my time and enjoyed having a good look around, checking for the most extended ‘use-by’ dates and anything on offer.

I bought some cooking sauces, turnips, a parsnip, potato cakes. Irish Batch bread, sliced seasoned potatoes, a pork pie, some mushrooms. More nibbles for the Social Hour box, Fresh cream horns,  tomatoes and some new to me Breakfast tea bags; One by Yorkshire Tea, one Asda own label (Which I warn anyone wanting a strong or tasty drink of tea to avoid at all costs. Like catwaz it was!) Another £21.55 gone.

When I’d paid for the groceries and made my way out into the cold sunshine, I thought the bomb had been dropped or something. All the folk from earlier had seemed to have gone and left?

As I stood outside waiting to make my move to the bus stop on High Street, I saw this jet high above, and boy, was it moving, with seconds it was out of view!

I waddled up the hill to the bus request stop and put down the bags to ease Hippy Hilda.

She had begun giving me bother now, and she was not happy with me at all.

The guilt when I looked down and saw the Fresh Cream Horn cakes there on above was authentic!

The girl from the Care Home on Chestnut Walk arrived at the shelter. I was pleased to see her and lend an ear to her. The poor gal is not very good at the moment, with her problems. We spoke, but most importantly, I listened as she related the difficulties she was battling with, all the way back on the bus. Bless her.

As we were getting off of the bus, and that very kind lady from the 4th floor asked if she could carry one of my bags for me to the flats. Then as I was biding my farewells to the girl from the home, Caroline and the kind lady both said I looked poorly, with Caroline adding ‘It’s his hip again!’ The tender lady, replying ‘Yes, he doesn’t look well at all!’

And here was I, thinking I was doing so well physically, as well. Hehehe!

I took these shots above, of the buildings as the generous warmly-kind lady walked along Chestnut Walk at my speed with me, and chatted away. She held the door open for me too! I felt so blessed to have someone showing such warmth to me.

I thanked her for caring as she got off the lift.

I travelled up to the 9th floor and alighted, calling at Jenny’s apartment. I asked about the timing of the bus in the morning. I paid the £6 costs of the outing, and we chatted a little. As I was going up in the elevator, I realised I still didn’t know what time the bus was due. So I got up to the flat and deposited the bags, then I went down and visited the Generalleutnantess Wardens temporary HQ shed and Tenants Social hut, and inquired of Warden Deana if she knew of the timing for the bus to Melton Mowbray, tomorrow. Obviously, due to the Official Prohibition on my mentioning anything spoken of between any Nottingham City Homes representatives and myself on my blog, I cannot repeat anything that took place. But I was told to go and see Jenny!

So, back to the flats and up to see Jenny again. Which is permitted as reportable on my blog. I discovered, well, Jenny found I’d already paid for the bus trip earlier. And the bus leaves at 1000hrs were are to meet or congregate in the lobby at 0930hrs. I was happy to learn this.

Thanked Jenny, and limped back to the flat, with Hippy Hilda suddenly in a much better mood.

I checked the crock-pot progress, stirred and after a quick taste of a spoonful, I decided it needed an hour or so longer before it would be cooked to my liking. I added some caramelised gravy granules to the pot, another good stir of it, passed wind and went for a wee-wee. Washed-up and did the Health Checks. I was surprised but well pleased with how Hippy Hilda had calmed down so quickly.

Got on with updating this diary. Checked the slow-cooker regularly and after getting carried away with this post updating, three hours later, I got the seasoned chips into the oven and added some potato scones then.

I nipped to neighbour Doris (I think that’s her name, a lovely lady) next door and asked her if she would accept one of the French Horn Cream Cakes. Luckily she liked them and helped me out, thus saved me wasting food.

I misjudged the potato additions, and they came out burnt a tad. But still tasty, even though I had to soak them in the gravy to soften them enough to bite into them, especially the scones. Hahaha!

A delicious effort this time. I mentally gave the meal a rating of 9.55/10 and deservingly so, I thought. The cream horn cake finished off the feast perfectly.

I got the pots washed up, did the last Health Checks and settled in the £300 second-hand recliner, nodded off within seconds I think.

It felt like I was dreaming straight away, and what a terrible dream to have. 

Seated in a cell of some sort, with threatening looking women and blokes, with tattoos, nose, ear and lip rings and scars over their faces; They insisted I would not be allowed to converse with anyone on earth again. With verbal threats and promises of my physical mangulation and slow death, if I did talk ever again. They then left me alone with a bucket of water, a box of medications and a dictionary; telling me that I could use the book to learn words I can no longer use? They informed I would be given time alone to consider their ‘offer’ and give them a solemn promise not to speak again when they return after my ‘thinking’ time.

After they all departed after knocking me about a bit, they all said in unison, “We will return!” I pondered on this and realised I would find it difficult to talk to them to give a decision or promise, because that would mean my talking to someone, surely?

Confused, and no one returning, I died some years later and assumed a spiritual observation of the cell.

This is where the dream memories let me down. All the early stuff, I found written on the notepad on the Ottoman and used them to prompt real recollections to write here in the morning, but no mention of what took place after I commenced my watching of the cell? Shame!

.

TFZer get-together

Sunday 13th May 2018

Finnish: Sunnuntaina 13. Toukokuuta 2018

0430hrs: I woke, (Late for me, but I did not get to sleep until around 0100hrs as I recall), believing I was still dreaming for a moment or two. Cause in the dream, I was in a sewer of some kind, being chased by ghosts, aliens, and robots, every time I found an escape hatch and climbed up it into the daylight. Then I saw myself laying in a hammock, bed, pile of leaves or whatever, where I woke up again. The location and form of bedding changed each time. This seemed to go on forever.

I extracted my full, podgy pilgarlic body out of the £300 second-hand recliner and off into the kitchen to make a cuppa and do the Health Checks.

The Sys had shot up, and the pulse had detruded down to 79 from the 100 recorded on yesterday’s morning Health Checks?

Had the shakes for a short while, I was concerned at first, but they stopped within minutes this time.

The wind was blowing in through the cracks and gaps left in the new window frame.

In fact, it was uncomfortably cold throughout the apartment this morning.

Had a long, drawn-out, slow painful sprinkling like wee-wee.

Fetched the dressing gown from the other room and got it on sharpishly.

 Then, I just had to absquatulate back to the wet room with some urgency, for another annoyingly, tingling wee-wee.

Once again the tea had gone cold, so I made another and returned to the main room to get the computer started.

Class One-A+

The light was not any longer on in the room, I didn’t remember turning it off. I went to turn it on at the wall switch, to find it was already in the turned on position.

Dangnations! The bulb had blown, yet another one bites the dust. This failure makes about five that have died on me in this location this year. And it was an expensive one too! I retrieved a sister bulb; I bought two of the same type last time. Fetched the step ladder and set about trying to change the bulbs.

I struggled a bit balancing on the top ledge, but got it swapped over; then got myself down taking the fast route and bypassing the steps down from the platform on the ladder.

Gave my right shin a good bang on the edge of the steps too, as I ended up in a somewhat hideously deformed, mangled and ugly mishmash of limbs and flesh. Landing partly on the Ottoman, and rolling off of it onto the carpet, clouting my head against on the legs of the £300 second-hand recliner.

Getting back upright from this position, proved to be a comical, farcical and quisquose task.

If it had been during the week, when assistance would have been on site, I would have pressed the wrist Health Alarm, and asked for help. They could easily have summoned one of the Hauptscharführeress Wardens, to ask them to call and give me a hand up. But, this being the weekend, with no none on site, I did not want to bother the Nottingham City Homes Control; because I felt they would have reasonably called for an ambulance to attend, and I thought this was not necessary.

Which, proved right as it happened. (Smug Mode Adopted – Hehe!)

Eventually, after grappling with the challenge of the ‘getting-back-up-again’ manipulations, I manoeuvered myself upright. But it took a lot of pain and effort. Hehe!

I got some cream on the head and shin.

Then had a look at the base of the expired light bulb.

It looked to me like there was some green and brown mould around the contact points?

Back to the wet room for a wee-wee.

Made another small mug of tea, I still hadn’t managed to drink one yet. Tsk!

It was 0740hrs by the time I got to updating yesterday’s post. Darnwangle! The WordPress was checking my spelling and grammar in American English again, of its own accord!

I did some WP reading and answered the comment.

Then made a start on this blog. Got up to here, then went on Facebooking, but it was slow so, I visited CorelDraw to do some TFZer graphics to use later.

1045hrs: Feeling a bit groggy, so I did the Health Checks and sat down in the chair for a while.

Got the meal done early.

Bit of a headache coming on. Did the pots and had a wee-wee

Nowt to fret about and Herbert was giving it some clout. Sat down and nearly passed-out. Snuck some poetry in there. Haha!

Got the Health Checks done.

TV on, feeling drained for no apparent reason, just sort of just lay there absorbing none of the Tommy-Rot being aired on the television, with the odd mind-wanderings’ delving into so many subjects, thoughts and frustrating things in life… Still awake eight-hours later… Tsk!

Saturday 12th May 2018

0340hrs: Stirred into life, and gently pandiculated while awaiting the brain to join in my hopes and dreams in acquiring the necessary awareness, to grasp the needs of the day and plan ahead.

Within seconds the newly procured ailment pains in the chest and around the left armpit were stabbing away at me as I took in involuntary breaths. (As the morning aged, these got far less frequent, I’m glad to report).

But, there was little acuity within the grey-cells. No signs of nocturnal nibbling or somnambulating having taken place.

As I got out of the £300 second-hand recliner, and stopped wobbling and gained some balance and confidence, no idea what I was about to go to do, though. Sad innit?, I felt the trickle of dampness down below in the PPs. Even sadder! Hehe!

The need for the Porcelain Throne arose at the same time. I fumbled a bit as I hastened to the wet room, Dizzy Dennis had not done with me yet. But, I did manage to avoid any toe stubbing en route. Evacuation and medicationalisationing and cleaning up all completed.

I was feeling a lot better now than when I first woke up.

The kettle switched on, and I went to get the slippers…

But where were they? After a few minutes probing and searching in the recliner room without any luck, I checked the wet room, not there either? And, I was sure I’d taken them off as usual when I settled in the recliner last night, and there were, as I said earlier, no signs of nocturnal nibbling or noctambulation having taken place? After what seemed like an hour of investigating and thinking I was going bonkers; I found them in the airing cupboard with the clothes… Why, when, how and what for? Got me beat this one!

An added puzzlement produced itself when I took the slippers out to put them on, the right one had a pen in it! Aliens? Ghosts? What a Meshugener!

Bemused, I went to do the Health Checks.

The pulsation rate had gone over the top again, by a fair margin, it’s not reached 100 all week.

My not knowing what the new ailment is being caused by, I took an extra codeine 30g and Ramprilil, not understanding if I’d done right or wrong, really. Hey-ho!

I realised at this point that I’d not had any visits from Craig Cramps last night at all. It’s been months since this has happened. Is there a link twit this and the new pains?

Heck of a thirst on me this morning, I made another mug of tea and got the computer on to update the diaries. I can inform any tea-drinkers out there, that the Extra-Strong English Breakfast tea bags, taste great, and they are delicious! They need a little longer to brew, but Mmm! Great! Oh, they are expensive to buy. Oh, I got a load of them from Morrisons when they first started to stock them, and they were on offer. Gone back up now, Tsk! But I’ve found some own label Breakfast tea bags in Marks and Sparks, which cost half as much, but are not so strong, but okay when I use my mini-mug. I’m waffling again, sorry.

Got the photographs from yesterday and those done already this morning into CorelDraw for formatting. Then began on catching up with the Friday post.

As soon as I started writing, the Grammarly add-on informed me I was spelling neighbour wrongly? As I wrote and it again stopped me when I wrote centre, I realised that somehow or other, Grammarly had changed my settings option to American English from UK English. But it took me ages to find out how to set this right. I just could not remember how or where it was in the programme. Klutz!

I ended up finding out I had gone to the right place first time but had not highlighted the American English to get into the options for other languages. Double Klutz!

Went to make yet another small mug of tea. And took this photographicalisation of the early morning Tree Copse – Bootiful!

Pressed on with doing the diary work for Friday’s lamentations, ululations, moanings,  and grief-stricken Whoopsiedangleplops. Hehehe!

Hello, the new stabbing pains are right under the left arm now! They do get about a bit! Haha! Not complaining yet though, they are still far less often than yesterday’s attacks.

And, as well as and besides that; If Arthur Itis keeps giving me a break as he has been doing for last few days, I’ll feel obliged to write a threnody or even a soliloquy to him. A touch of silly imbecilicness there, sorry!

I got the two medication pots emptied, washed rinsed and left to dry on a kitchen towel on the window ledge, the one with the cuts chips and holes left in it, during the upgrading of our Concentration Camp, process.

Herbert above doing a bit of banging about up above. But it is the weekend, and he is always worse then noise-wise. It didn’t last long though. Still, as the Nottingham City Homes Management told me, he is doing nothing wrong, it’s his hobby. Oh, no, they also told me not to put anything said between NCH staff and me on my blog, I forgot that for a moment, I’ll cross it out. Sorry.

Off for another wee-wee, not surprising with all the tea I have the craving of today. Wonder why?

It was a little windy, and I could feel it coming through where the walls were plastered last Thursday, both left and right side of the window.

More expense to put things right after the onslaught of the upgrading works. New carpets, curtains, holes to pay someone to fill in for me… No! Naughty Inchcock! Stop moaning!

The medicinal pots had dried nicely. So I set up next weeks doses while they were handily placed.

I got the nosh prepared for cooking, then into the crock-pot.

Chopped up the parsnips, tomatoes, red onions, gherkins, orange peppers and beef and mixed it with the tomato and mushroom pasta sauce. Seasoned with BBQ granules, balsamic vinegar, caramelised gravy granules, onion salt and a drop of lemon juice.

After I’d looked up the weather forecast for this week, I began to feel a little… erm, what’s the right wording? Sorry for myself and my astoundingly rotten, sick, dreadful, awful, terrible, frightful, atrocious, hopeless, inadequate, inferior, unsatisfactory, laughable and depressed making pathetic, lousy luck!

I had planned to get out again to the tropical house in Woodthorpe Grange Park. And on Wednesday I have at least an hours walk to the City hospital for the blood test. I have to go there this week because the doctor’s surgery people again forgot to give me an appointment. (Sherrington Park Medical Practise – I recommend you give them a miss if you are looking to sign on at any doctor’s unless you are a sadist of course). Of course, rain is only forecast for two days out of the seven, both the days I have to go out!

With this, the mess to sort out in the flat, the new ailment and Herbert again knocking and banging away above me, I find it hard not to get feeling down and pitiably sorry for myself at times. Humph!

I took a panoramic shot of this beautiful view out of the kitchen window.

Blow me, Herbert’s started clanging about again now! I wonder if I could take up playing the flugelhorn or euphonium in a brass band and practice my hobby every day?

Many hours later, I got caught up to here with this update.

Went to the WordPress Reader page. A comment perused and answered.

I put together 34 of the political page headers and posted it off to WordPress.

Then went on CorelDraw to create some more for later. Did this to the accompaniment of Herbert above.

Came to update this again, the WordPress options had gone back to U.S. English. Had to put it back again, third time today! Damn thing is still doing the spell-check for US English! I’m peed off!

The crock-pot mixture should be ready any time now I think, just tasted it, the vegetables still a little longer. It’s had about five and a bit hours, I’ll give it another hour more.

The casserole whatever it is called was just fine. An enjoyment rating of 8.9/10 given.

Got the pots washed and settled in the £300 second-hand recliner in search of sleep.

I tried everything I could think of to nod-off.

Watched the TV, tried reading, then watching a DVD… but nothing would ease the mind from its fretting, worrying and analysing.

Last time I noticed, when I got up for a wee-wee, it was 0100hrs gone!

The best thing, was that the sharp chest/arm pains had not bothered me for hours. Yeehaa!