Seems to be a question over which part this is? Haha!
Breaking News – Deadly Caterpillars found in Nottingham!
What with swine fever & poisonous insecticide…
Covid, Putin, bird flu, which is worse? You decide!
Drunk drivers, murderers, and a shortage of cyanide…
We’d better sort out the best choice for suicide…
Jump off a high building, shoot yourself, or use Fungicide?
Easy for me, I’ll take 10 Warfarins and a few Furosemide
The kids would be heartbroken if their dog died…
But would self-immolation really be justified?
Maybe, cause Putin’s war will soon go worldwide!
I’ll try to catch the court case to see the sentence,
Unless the lily-livered judge decides on his innocence,
All he’ll have to do is show the mock judge reticence,
The judge will bring up some 1895 jurisprudence…
See that the lad didn’t mean to kill, using grandiloquence…
The beak congratulates the lawyer on his great defence…
Fines the lad £50 and pays his court cost expense!
I keep seeing in these reports; the word Sherwood…
Me living there midst of the violence and blood…
Means I don’t feel safe, as any innocent would!
I think I should have left, absquatulated…
Mayhaps the miscreants are misunderstood?
Whatever happened to an eye for an eye, blood for blood…
Christs, it’s dangerous living in Sherwood!
An Angel of Mercy came to the rescue,
Gave no name, a white van driver, too!
Would you think he was from Nottingham, do you?
Probably from Wales, Devon or Crewe?
According to the court records, (a chap here works there). This animal has had 91 convictions for 41 offences. He’s awaiting trial for four fraud charges, attempted robbery, carrying a knife in a public place, and demanding money from several taxi drivers! There are another 44 charges that were ‘dropped’ through lack of evidence (that seems a lot?) and domestic abuse. Five years and five months, with eight months for the eleven fraud charges. I need a mathematician here… how long did the scumbag get for each crime he committed, please?
We’ll trace the suspects earnestly!
No doubt, using their renowned synergy,
And cunningly concealed sagacity…
And scribble a note on the back of the hand!
By pure default.
This man’s a dolt!
Parole Board idiots let him leave clink early, They should be prosecuted and sued, clearly… They got it wrong yet again, then surely… There are not up to the job, pathetically! As Hughie Green said, ‘I mean this sincerely’… The Parollers should be sacked and fined, but severely!
Mayhaps in prison, Brown could train… The Parole Board idiots again… Tell them they are thick, nonsane! Freeing scumbags early is transmundane, They’ll commit crimes again, fly off in a plane… Laugh at them, call them names profane!
A murderer, drug dealer and a crackbrain… They have been freed this year, have they no brain? Everyone who was freed and committed a crime again! I’ve proved at catching runaways; you are inane… Parole Boarders have no morals to maintain, Freeing murderers to kill again is inhumane!
Parole Boarders are as guilty… of this, I am certain… Off the crimes committed by the freed-early lurdane! Are the idiots’ drug addicts, or do they use enflurane? Cause the arseholes free killers again and again?
We (UK) have 246 Parole Board members. It’s agreed, The highest-paid member gets £166,560 indeed! The Prime Ministers’ pay, this does exceed! Justice for the innocents killed by Murderers freed… The wife, husband or child victims’ families…
Guilty Parole members should be locked up or sauteed, On bread and water, with the occasional fried centipede, I wouldn’t say I hate or loath those that intercede… Indeed one or two must-have accurately refereed? Too many freed killers kill again! For revenge or greed!
02:30hrs: I woke, in no mood to become active in mind or body. Gawd blimey, I was still so tired! Never have I had such Clinomania, and reluctance to wake up, let alone get up! A little discussion between my brain vs my lack of willpower and interest in anything, resulted in the recreance winning this time, and I nodded off into sweet obliviousness.
03:10hrs: I stirred again, and had another battle with myself as to get up or not! I seemed to be in a state of hypnagogia again. I felt I had to rise, whatever the body and ailments told me, and I was determined to. I fell asleep again!
04:10hrs: I came back to reality yet again. This time with the need for a wee-wee, forcing me to beat my reluctance for returning to the land of the living. Robotically, I inched my ginormous wobbly-stomached burdened body out of the creaking, £300, second-hand c1968, grotty, repellently beige-coloured recliner, with the sticks assistance, I got up onto my painfully long toenailed feet.
As I struggled to get to the wet room, I espied signs of nocturnal nibbling on the Ottoman tray! But at the time, no feelings of guilt were sensed, for the wee-wee was getting more urgent now!
Unfortunately, in my haste, I knocked corner stand, and I heard things fall off of it. No stopping, onward, the wee-wee must be released! And what a wee-wee! An HPSAUOC (High-Pressure-Sprinkly-Unexpectedly-Orange-Colour) style. But not a long one, and no pain with it, so that was good!
As I was cleaning and medicating Little Inchies bleeding fungal lesion, in between the stabs of pain as the Daktacort® 2% w/w Miconazole nitrate and hydrocortisone cream was applied, it dawned on me, (things like this do happen (occasionally). I spotted some empty clementine juice cans on the Ottoman.
I wonder if these might be the reason the orange wee-wee?
The ankle-ulcer was looking far betterer, and Arthur Itis was not acting up too much either, which was a plus.
It might have been my eyes or desire, but when I sneezed, I’m sure the Big Belly Bernard shook less than usual? (Well, I can dream?)
Also, and as well as, Anne Gyna was kind to me. No Dizzy Dennis or Reflux Roger, Shaking Shaun or Back-Pain-Brenda visits!
Fair enough, Toothache Tim and Duodenal Donald were making up for this, and a sore throat was developing. But overall, this getting up late seems to suit me? But, of course, most likely it just fooled the other ailments temporarily. Arnie Schwarzeneggers? They’ll be back!Hehehe!
Washed and off to the kitchen. Where I took a distance shot from the kitchen unwanted, light & view-blocking, thick-framed windows, there were obviously designed by someone suffering from ‘Mere-Exposure Effect’ syndrome.
It was my Zyrophobia suffering, supercilious Brother-in-law Pete, who made me take a close-up, of the City Hospital. The poor lad will be in there this morning, having another biopsy done on his mystery ailment. I thought it might cheer him up a tad, reading this if he can afterwards. The yellow rectangle is the area I zoomed into for the second shot.
All the best, Pete, mate! Nowt you can do, but await the results now. I pray they are good news. I have thought you’d have escaped and taken a photo of the flats? Hehehe!
I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, took the medications and got the thermometer and sphygmomanometer out. The machine was like me earlier this morning, not interested in working!
It took me three tries to get it to work. (it took me the same to get up! Hahaha!)
The plates of meat were giving me some stick, and for some unknown reason, the area around where the ankle ulcer comes up now and then was extremely itchy. Yet there were no signs of any inflammation or new growth? With the nails getting ever longer, I’d continued not to wear socks, I even took the slippers off to ease things.
But they’ll go back on after the ablutions are done.
The stomach felt a little firmer, I think. But this might be and usually is, a prewarning of the innards about to kick off. I anticipate a battle between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Conrad to ensue. Which will prevail I wouldn’t guess. Lately, it seems to go from one extreme to the other nearly every day. Still, it makes for a bit of interest. Haha!
Toothache Tim kicked off on the first sip of tea! That put the mockers on drinking ant brew for the rest of the day. Gangleboggleisations!
I made a start on the blogging update. It was as if someone was turning on a tap every half-hour or so. I swear you can see the imprint of the four-pronged walking stick, and outline of my feet in the carpet, to and from the wet room, I had hobble there so many times! Silver-Lining Search Result: But, at least I got the update done in reasonably good time, with only Shuddering Shoulder Shirley giving any real hassle. My thanks to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, Shaking Shaun and Dizzy Dennis! Bless you, all!
After the umpteenth wee-wee, I made a mug of Glengettie tea and went on CorelDraw while it cooled down before trying it. Argh! Toothache-Tim, was not pleased, in the least! I threw it away. That’s the end of my tea drinking for the day! I took an extra Codeine 30g. (Too late now of course. Silly old sausage!)
I set up the template for today’s blog. Then went on the WordPress reader. Then onto the Facebooking, which I enjoy so much. Then it was time for the ablutions to be tended to.
I’d done the teeth, bloodlessly, but it was a bit painful with Toothache Tim nudging his way into the scene. (Swank-Adopted!) While I was moving the clothes, I’m sure I saw the shape of a rabbits head in the moved flannels. Can anyone else see it, or am I going daft? Or maybe I should say, dafter?
I photographed the stomach before and after the shower. But there was no difference as I could see.
The shaving activity brought about a few dropsies, not many. Razors (4), shaving foam can (2), and a decentish clouting of the back of the hand against the sink. The showering went fine, in fact so well, I was considering giving myself a medal. Hahaha!
I got dried off and set about the perfumery and medication duties. These took longer than the teggies, shaving and showering out together! Olive-piled the ear-holes first. No Saccades Sandra spray left to use, Grungleclapskin! Applied the Germoloid cream (Wince!). Then got some after-shave on the one tiny cut. Sprayed the Brute deodorant over the elephantine body. Last of the Brute spray used up! Got the Phopain gell well-rubbed into the knees. And carefully, Note no toe-stubbing or dropping of the showerhead again! Smug Mode Adopted! I made my way to the front room to get clothed.
I had to get the slippers on, a sharp intake of breath, and a silently mumbled ‘Argh!’ later, and I was ready to get the black bags and recycling prepared for taking downstairs.
While doing this, I decided that tomorrow, I will try to catch a bus to town, (if they are running) and visit, (if they are open), the Poundland shop, now my curfew has been eased. It’s all a bit vague innit? Later I’ll ask on the Winwood Heights Facebook, is anyone knows about the buses and Poundland.
I got the bags made up, and onto the three-wheeled trolley walker. Off to the waste chute room. Gawd! the toes and plates were giving me agony! I pondered over whether going out tomorrow was a good idea or not after all?
I struggled a bit getting the bags in the chute, not because they were heavy or large, they weren’t. The problem was Shuddering Should Shirley had kicked off again, and she meant business this time. This encouraged the right legs involuntary drop-something and have a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance. Nearly had me over, so it was a good thing I was in such confined space at the time!
I left the trolley in the lift lobby. taking a moody photo of it, with the shadows, as I returned to the flat, to pick up the fob key, just in case when I went down with the big bag of recyclables, I got locked out. (It has happened more than once, Tsk!)
Back and collected the trolley, using the walls in the narrow hallway, so I didn’t worry if I had a funny turn, the dancing returned, or Dizzy Dennis visited.
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was merely giving the odd twitch now, but I knew she had not finished with me yet.
Waiting for the lift, I got the camera out, ready for when the lift doors opened. I’m glad no one was in it at the time. Haha!
Down to the ground floor. Met and had a few words with Ethel in the lobby. Then through the caretaker’s passage to the bins. Both of the caretakers were there outside, and Steve took the bag from me. A few words, during which Shirley gave them a display of quality Shoulder Shuddering. Which drew looks between the two men, and an “Are yer alright? and frowned foreheads. It’s so embarrassing when someone is nearby when this happens. I said I was fine, thanks. I must have looked a right pillock as I shook my way back inside.
I increased the heat to high in the crock-pot with the potatoes in, and opened a tin of peas and put them in a saucepan. Then, as Shirley was easing off, Duodenal Donald started, a bad do too, supported with a bit of stabbing from Anne Gyna. Ah, well, things had been to calm earlier on, it had to come.
I could find no details about the buses on the website. So asked on Winwood Heights Facebook, if anyone knew about the buses or Poundland store. Hugh ‘thinks’ the L9 is running in a Saturday timetable. If so, That’ll do me.
I decided to take some photos from the balcony. Seemed a good idea at the time.
I got the right side Metal-Spring controlled, that needs the recoiling bit pressed and pulled at the same time to do open it, (potentially lethal, but okay for Winwood Heights old folks to use) with merely a bruised finger and elbow this time. Then took a couple of pictures.
Tried Josie’s door again. No answer.
Tired out and still shaking a bit, I got the nosh prepared. I ate it in an auto-mode, no idea why, but as the concentration gave way to fatigue, I’m sure I enjoyed it.
Wash the pots up, and as the dying sunshine blasted its last beams on earth, I got the camera and tried to take a decent shot of the scene.
It dawned on me then, I can’t remember using the Porcelain Throne today? But being in the languorous, lackadaisical, lethargic state of mind I was in, I wasn’t sure or certain of anything.
I’m not sure what happened for the next half-hour or so, I sort of came-back into focus as I was in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, with my legs up high on the old swivel chair, and deep in thought about tomorrows plans to get out to town on the bus. Then I remembered that this will not be possible, I’d forgotten about Jenny’s helping me out ordering stuff for me, it’s being delivered Tuesday. Hey-ho! As much as I was looking forward to getting out, for some reason, this did not bother me? Maybe, I had underlying fears of going out after so many weeks lodged in the flat?
I soon found that Sweet Morpheous was uninterested in letting me get any rest. The Thought-Storms began, tormenting me with memories that I hadn’t recalled for years. I’d guess it was gone midnight by the time I finally managed to nod of.
01:00hrs: Woke, with memories of a dream I’d had floating about in the grey-cells. But they soon left, and all I knew was, the nocturnal mind-wanderings were of a likeable nature, but not the foggiest of any details, remained. Tsk!
Moments later, summoning from the inwards, advised me to hasten to the Porcelain Throne. So, I did. Which proved to be and up and down visitation. The evacuation went well enough, not too painful or messy, but it took a while and some effort.
During this, I had a go at the crossword book. And dropped it when the neurotransmitters failed in the finger-ends. I used the picker-upper to retrieve the book. I creased the pages in doing so. When I got it in my hand, a page with some of my scribble on it was on top. I’d written something about my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete; I think I wrote it when I was in the Acorn home, recovering from the stroke, so out of interest, I read it. It related to Pete visiting me there. And suddenly it dawned… I’d missed his birthday! Well, I can expect him to raid the flat again now! Hehe! He might even arm one of his drones and send it over! I must apologise to the lad. Sorry, Pete, me old mate, catch you later, I hope, Sir. I do feel a right schlemiel! I blame my doing that housework yesterday. (Red-face and shame growing!)
I took a rinse and wiped the contact surfaces, and off to the kitchen to make a brew. I took the medications.
Then got on with updating the Thursday blog.
But it was a nightmare with the amazingly crap service provided by the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, making things take several times longer than it should have. And yet yesterday, it was reasonably decent? In fact, it was to start with for the first fifteen minutes?
After about half-an-hour at it, the wee-weeing started, and it’s not stopped yet! Each and everyone was of the SSPAOQ (Short-Sharp-Painless-All-Over-Quickly) variety. But most frequent. I reckon that I must have dished the beta-blocker, in error for the Furesomide tablet! Thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for letting me down and failing to remove the Furesomide from the blister-packs in my prescriptions, as Nurse Leoni had asked you to do, and you said you would, but didn’t! She asked you again last week, and another prospectively worthless promise was received that you would on the next allocation. I hope you do get it right this time, bearing in mind you are classed amongst the top three Chemists in Nottingham by the Yell.co company. It’s only after talking with other old folks in the flats where I live about the problem that many have told me of their complaints about Boots, Llyods, and the Late Night Chemists in Sherwood. You all seem unreliable. So, how come you are in the top three? You used to be so caring, efficient, and reliable, too. Shame, a shame I can’t leave and use another pharmacist. And Boots and Lloyds are about to charge £10 per delivery.
I really went off the plot there, didn’t I? Sorry, but the annoyance of Mr Fries Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, and the suffering that Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA have put me through, gets to me sometimes, mainly when they both cause problems for me at the same time!
Now, my Grammarly keeps changing to US English, and I am so pissed-off!
As I gave up on the web and closed everything down, the landline rang out. It was Sister Jane to tell me I had forgotten Pete’s birthday. Oh, dear! ‘Trouble ‘t Mill!” I didn’t mention that I forgot my own last year! After all the help, the lad’s given me over the stroke, too. Oh, ecky thump!
I got the ablutions sorted out. The legs looked mighty fine! Dropsies that I can remember; Shaving Razors (4) Shaving cream. Teeth; toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash bottle. Showering: Showerhead, soap (3), sponge, and back-brush. Then another toe-stubbing against seat raiser. The sock-glide battle; that I had been mastering of late. Left me with a piece of the nail removed on the thumb, and a bruise on the knuckles. Also, I clouted my elbow on the sink edge, getting my trousers on! Now that’s more like me!
I felt almost happy about it! Sad, I know, but that happens to be how I think, good luck is unusual but pleasant. However, not as reliable or frequent as a good dose of my injurious calamities and failures are!
I tended to the handwashing next. A few bits needed doing, and I made a right mess of the kitchen in doing so. I was a smidge irked by having to clean the flipping floor again after doing it yesterday. A few quiet mutterings of a curseful nature were uttered. But overall, I remained in a decent enough mood with myself and the world.
When I’d got the clothes done, rung and hung, then the beep-beep hook on the coathanger with the jammie-bottoms hanging on it suddenly detached itself! And again water found its way onto the floor I’d just cleaned again! More foul language was silently-voiced, with one word coming out aloud, beginning with F!
I took a snap of the view from the unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking new kitchen windows. It looked like some rain is on the way. Pretty in a way, though. No, that’s not the word to describe it! More like, erm… I don’t know now, the name just departed my brain and off into the ether? Humph!
I got dressed and all ready for a bus ride to Sherwood. After double, treble checking things, especially the potatoes in the new small cooker, lights taps, etc. I departed. I rang Josie’s bell on the way out, but no answer.
Down and along the link-passage to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators), Wardens to us, Holding Cell office. A quick nip in and handed the nibbles out. All done in thirty-seconds, and off into the Winwood Court Social Lounge. Only one person in there, a Nottingham City Homes agent. There was a lot of them arrived today. Including the Nottingham City Homes Generalfeldmarschalless Housing Patch Manager/Catwalk Model, Angela Gould.
I got the crosswording tackled for fifteen minutes or so, did well today. Then forced the reluctant Arthur Itis’s knees to let me stand up again, and off to the Winchester Court foyer. Had a natter with Margaret, Mary, and some other tenants, then, out to the bus stop.
Got the L9 down to Mansfield Road, took a photo to the right, then the left.
I limped down to the left, to the Azam store, the one with the lime window shades, to search for some fruit and veg. But, oh, what a selection of old food at top prices they had on offer! I turned around and back up the hill and tried the Co-op shop. They had some Cox’s apples, not cheap, but they looked okay, a bag of small potatoes, a wholemeal bread thins, and some mushrooms.
I paid at the self-serve tills without any problems. Then out and crossed over at the traffic light, to go to Abdul’s shop with the Post Office in it, to get some Puff Pastry fingers.
The shop that was a Bingo and entertainment establishment had been graffitied. But not by good skilfull ones.
As I took this photo, a young Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist came by, and gave the evil eye and said something, but I could not hear what it was he said. Then casually plodded on up the hill, with his hands in his pockets, not on the handlebars.
I got to Abdul’s and got a packet of the fingers and a pack of jam tarts, £1 each. I met Welsh William at the check out ahead of me. He held the door open for me as I followed him out. We had a chat on my way to the bus stop, and he diverted into the bookies. That’s William in the light blue jacket shooting off for a flutter on the gee-gees, I imagine.
I carried on to the bus shelter, just as the rain came down heavier. Good timing! Some tenants of the flats, unknown to me by name and I had a chinwag for a while, as the bus came a little late today. But it wasn’t cold with it like it has been these last couple of days. The rain seems to have scattered the local populace.
Back at the flats, I was off the bus last as usual, to avoid banging into anyone or getting hit about. One of them waited to hold the door open for me, bless the gentleman! I did my best to catch up with them for a natter, but they were already at the end of the passage near the swipe door, by the time I entered the corridor. William was leading the charge.
I got the few things purchased put away and began to formulate what to have for today’s nosh with the new potatoes. Which incidentally were ready to go now, in the crock-pot. So I moved them in with the garden peas in the saucepan.
Then, I got the computer on and downloaded the photos to Coreldraw for resising. Then, with a certain nervousness, I restarted the Libert-Global internet and made a mug of tea, while I waited to restart hopefully.
It was just the same as before, no change. It seems to be cutting out every few minutes, but only for a few seconds, then coming back on? But, it seems, only on WordPress this time? Unless its just the timing?
I went on Facebook to test that out on the TFZers page. Got loads of photos on. But some moving pictures set Saccades-Sandra off, and now the Dizzies are back. So I’ll get the nosh made and settle down to try and rest a while.
Head cleared now, and I nodded-off (beyond my usual head-down time now) for a few minutes, I woke and went to sort the meal out.
Oh, flippin’ ‘eck! The potatoes were slightly burnt! The leeks had disappeared altogether! Thank heavens I warmed the garden peas in another pan! The saucepan had to be put down. I said a few words over it as I washed it and put it in its final resting place, the rubbish bag. A sad event, cause this saucepan had lasted longer than any other in the depths of the Whoopsiedangleplops, and the cursed Accifauxpas mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court kitchen. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! It was a veteran; it lasted the course without any damage for four months! Frogglemoths! I managed to clean the lid and kept it, in memory of the devoted pans loyalty, he’s not had an easy life, something I could empathise with.
However, I still ate the potatoes, not the black bits, mind. The feast was enjoyed, with a tinge of sadness for the saucepan. Hehehe!
Pork & mushroom pate, the lucky-not-go-the-same-way as the potatoes garden peas, an apple, a black tomato, beetroot, and the well-tasty potatoes! Lemon curd yoghourt for afters, with a bottle of fresh orange juice. A flavour-rating of 7/10.
Then, I went to get the pots washed. I returned to the junk room mark 2, got settled in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, yucky-grungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.
I got the TV on and noted that channel 81 on Freeview, a film, Crooks in Cloister was about to start. It rang a distant bell in my mind, so I decided to watch it… I nodded-off into slumberland as it was beginning. Not only that, but I slept for about 5½ hours uninterrupted!
02:45hrs: I stirred awake, shivering with cold, and forced myself to evacuate the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged while he was flat-sitting, when I was in hospital, as he fitted new CCTC cameras, and searched for my valuables, which he found and took, I still haven’t got them back yet four-months later, £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner, and get the dressing gown on my goose-pimpled gross body. Brr!
Taking a wee-wee in the unused overnight GPB (Grey-Plastic-Bucket). Which caught me out with its USBUWSS (Ultra-Slow-But-Uncontrollable-Weak-Sprinkly) nature! Also, my whipping down the PPs without thinking, and the dried blood from Little Inchies leaking fungal lesion got torn off, and the blood flowed afresh! (I believe a silently cursed, using language that I usually wouldn’t have, with the shock of the pain!)
While cleansing things and tidying up, I had a moment of… what’re the words, erm, err… ‘Feeling a bit sorry for missen’ I suppose! This was not good. But all the things going wrong, and carrying on from last night, just got a bit much for me, I reckon. I decided the therapy I needed was to get some work done. So I decided to sort things out, and then get the kitchen windows cleaned as best I could. So, off to the kitchen.
Got the handwashing I’d left soaking overnight, rinsed and refreshed with the ylang scented Wilko stuff. I needed a new bottle, so I hobbled (painfully, the RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis) was still giving me grief), to the junk room mark two, to fetch a new bottle.
Clouting my elbow on the door handle on the way back, and dropping the container, which landed on my right foot. At least it didn’t burst open! I got the clobber on the stand-up airer. Had a wee-wee of the freakish BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) mode.
When it came to taking the morning medication, it came to light that I had missed taking last night’s! So, the getting to usual lately performance of trying to identify which were the tablets to not duplicate was done, and both doses were imbibed.
I set about getting the things out to do the windows with and had to divert to the wet room and the Throne. Under-‘rotten’-believable! What an evacuation. Right back to the solid, flesh-tearing, wait-for-it, mode! Argh! My spirit and determination were wavering now!
Back to the kitchen, took a picture of the wonderful sky.
Then moved the gear away, and got the spray and kitchen towels nearby. Up the stepladder… then fell off of it, backwards! No idea why, but I didn’t have a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance from the leg? As I was struggling to get back up, so I could nurse my head, that I’d banged on the way down, I thought: What can I do? The chap who Jenny got in touch with said he was coming to see me about cleaning the windows last Saturday, but did not arrive. Maybe he meant another Saturday, and I got it wrong again. I came out of the Accifauxpas in remarkably good condition really. A little bang on the arm and the clout on the head was all I suffered. But the body was aching a bit in places.
Mind you, the nut was throbbing away!
I checked out the legs for ant damage, and to my utter amazement, apart from a tiny bit of a mark on my right ankle, they looked just fine?
I began to question my ability to live a normal life.
I left the mess in the kitchen after making a brew, (I really wasn’t interested in doing anything in the cleaning up stakes, now) and in a morose frame of mind, I got the computer on to update the Friday blog.
On selecting the photographs to go on, I put the wrong one for the nosh on the post. This is the one that should have gone on! Fancy me making a mistake. Humph!
A confirmation email from Amazon arrived, to inform me that the two tomatoe slicers I’d ordered were due to be delivered this Sunday. How I managed to order two, I just don’t know. But, thinking about it, I am surely assured that I will either lose one or break one, so it might yet prove to be a good idea? Oy Vey!
Anything to avoid any more cuts. Especially with the Sherrington Park Medical Practise, currently impossible to contact, I tried nineteen times on the phone this week to contact them, fifteen times in one day! And leaving me in a right state over their lack of interest in my Warfarin INR levels, or arranging any test! The last time I heard from them, by email, they wanted to know if I still wanted a nurse to call to take the blood; if so, they will arrange for it. I sent a reply message saying yes please and thank you. That was three weeks ago. Now I can’t even get to ask them why no nurse arrived, and I do not know the level or how many Warfarin tablets to take! Warden Deana was busy with the opening of the Winwood Court and burying of the time capsule (Last Monday). So, no help there. I still do not know if or when the next test is due after the missed one! Am I so hated? Why are they ignoring me? Have I too many issues and ailments for them? Why am I asking these questions?
Anyway, with so many surgeries shut down through not coming up to scratch, I imagine they are getting an influx of new patients. Which will probably result in the Grim Reaper taking me earlier than I would have liked, but who is interested? I’m not coping well at all with the hassle and lack of concern. Let him come!
I pressed on and got the Friday post finished. The hands and fingertips are not so bothersome at the moment. The head still aches, Hehe!
Made a start on this blog, and then stopped to get the ablutions sorted out. Just in case the window cleaner man might call. Mmm?
Things must be improving, the shave, teggies and shower session, held only two dropsies!
Gave up. Decided to go to Sherwood to see if any of the shops had any shortcrust cakes in stock.
I got the trolley and myself all ready, forgetting to take the black bags I made up in the kitchen and left, to find the three-flats foyer in darkness. The new light put in by the same electricians who cut my power for nine-hours, when putting in the Fire-Alarm sprinkler system I’ve little confidence in them working!) Not the NCH men who gave me the floods and destroyed my clothing in the airing cupboard, that people are even less interested in than my Doctor is in missing my Warfarin blood tests. They probably don’t even know it’s happened. I can’t get through on the phone to them. Oh, I’m getting niggly again!
I wobbled through the cut-through passage to Winwood Court.
I checked to see if the broken locking mechanism had been mended yet, on the door out to the alfresco benches. No!
I got outside via the new Winwood Court Extra Care foyer door and made my way to the bus stop.
I made the queue into three of us. It soon grew to about twelve of us. I enjoyed a nattering session. Despite my struggling to hear everything, as I had failed to put my hearing aids in. Malcolm told me how to get up to the rooftop seating on top of Winwood Court. There is a dedicated lift up and down! I thought I’d see how I was when I came back if well enough I might have a nip up take some photos?
I thought about going on the outward-bound L9, in search of the flaky pastry biscuits. When the first bus arrived, without even thinking, I got on, to find it was the inward bound bus! Surprisingly this did not seem to bother me. I just thought I’d go to the Aldi store then, on Mapperley tops. I got off and took a photo to the left then right. And a zoomed-in one of my new destination.
I came out with, a BLT sarnie, rice-cakes, caramel bars for the nibble box. Sourdough baguettes, walnut halves, ham off-cuts and eight kitchen rolls. The kitchen paper was bought cause it was on offer. Carrying it home caused a bit of a kerfuffle, as it filled the spare carrier. In fact, the young man on the till packed the rolls into the carrier-bag for me. That was kind of him!
The highlight of my mini-hobble home came as I got on the main road. A pavement cyclist also leaving the store stacked all his purchases in a carrier bag, on his little bar at the back of his bike’s seat, and rode within inches of me as he passed. A hundred yards or so further along Mapperley Top, his things fell off! It made a right mess for him to sort-out. In the end, he had to walk pushing his bike. There is a God!
Somewhat perked-up, now, I wobbled on and down Mapperley Rise. Where I took this photographicalisation. Regrettably, it came out looking nothing like how the eye saw the distant parts of the scene! Shame!
Limping down the hill, turned out to be little more arduous than I wanted. The three-wheeler really doesn’t like going downhill on uneven ground. And the pavement got worse, more irregular dips, rise’s and pot-marks, the further I travelled. There was a couple of near-trips and falls en route, but I managed to stay on my now, painful feet. The brakes are not very useful on this trolley.
When I reached the corner of Sherwood Vale, where I had to cross over, the road surface is as bad as they come. My closest call to a fall happened here. I did go down on one knee which pissed-off RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis)! But no injuries really. As I was trying to get up, a bloke who’d stopped his came over and asked if I was alright. Another humanitarian gesture! I thanked him and said I was fine, thank you.
I took this picture as I walked down to Chestnut Way and the Winwood Heights barren looking person-less area.
The planning as not be thought out too well. To avoid all the high pavements safely, would mean going onto the road all the time and back again.
As I neared the Gulag, I mean, flats, I decided I would have a walk up to the Extra Care Winwood Court sitting-out area, now Malcolm has told me how to get up there. They have a games room, with a sink, power-sockets, seats and tables, and a kitchen as well. I got in the one-stop lift, and a lady in there, sat at a table, gave me rum-look and said something, but couldn’t hear what she said.
I went out onto the terrace-top. There were no chairs as you will in the photos that I took ad-lib:
Inside of Winwood Courts dedicated lift, on my way back down. I didn’t see anyone at all on the walk home through the linking-passage to Woodthorpe Court.
I stopped for a while, something was not right. What was it? Ah, the silence! No banging from the flat above, no laughter, no fridge rattling away, no mystery whining sounds, no wind blowing through the holes in the wall and floor, courtesy of the builders and repairmen… still, you can’t expect it sound just like inside your Woodthorpe Court flat, can you?
And of course, it’s the weekend, many people going to see their families or being collected, that’s another reason for the lack of Winwoodonians about.
I got in the apartment. No wee-weeing, no Porcelain Throne requirements, no new ailments acquired. Apart from a little bruise on the head still there from my falling off the stepladder earlier, and an even smaller injury-come-graze, on the knee, from the mini-fall on the road.
I got the fodder stored away.
I got on with updating this blog, for hours, but the finger-ends were making it slow work. Eventually, the CIDP won, and I gave up working on the computer.
I got the nosh prepared. The oven in the chips… now there’s a cock-up! I meant, Chips in the oven, and got the tomatoes sliced. Sliced the finger as well! Not really, just a knick under a fingernail again.
So, there I was, limping around in the nude prepping the meal, and the Intercom light flashed (I couldn’t hear the pathetically week chiming it is supposed to give out). When I pressed the answer button, the picture of the caller, disappeared, and the picture screen came up ‘Picture Fault’. I pressed the door open button, but I was not sure if it had done so or not. Pushed the reset button, then the answer button, and got the picture back. No one in view. I assumed they had been let in by someone.
I got the dressing gown on sharpish, and the door chime rang out. Guess who it was? It was the tomato slicer delivery from Amazon, that was due to arrive on Sunday. I thanked the lady and took the box into the kitchen and had a look at the slicer.
A shame it didn’t come half-an-hour earlier, it would have saved me losing the blood. Hehe! I just had to try it out. So I cleaned it, and sliced another tomato with it, and added it to the plate. Works alright, I have to be wary when cleaning the fixed blades.
I got the handwashing done and hung.
Then sorted the meal out. I overdid the quantities, and could not eat it all, but what I did eat was flavoursome, a taste-rating of 7.5/10.
Got the washing-up done, and settled to watch some TV. Staying awake to see the England v Bulgaria Euro qualifying match. When I say stayed awake, I mean mostly. Half-time I drifted off.But came back to life when the match restarted.
At long last, the RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis) was easing in the knees. It should just about have got to a bearable pain level, in time for Tuesday, and the next crippling, blood-curling, agony-ridden, depressing, After-Stroke physio session! Haha!
Judging by the spelling of realise as realize, it must be a USA inspired idea?
01:30hrs: I woke up, and had a feel around at the ailments to see what’s what. Only Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna were of any real bother. The hands, fingers, arm, leg and shoulder all seemed to be in a none-playing-up mood. Haha!
The need for a wee-wee developed, and I discovered I had not brought the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket) into the recliner room! So, obviously I must not have needed it during the night, a rare occurrence that.
So, I lumbered my volumingargantuan stomached body from Brother-in-Law Pete damaged while he was flat-sitting, when I was in hospital, as he fitted new CCTC cameras, and searched for my valuables, which he found and took, I still haven’t got them back yet four-months later, £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, recliner. I surprisingly comfortably hobbled to the kitchen to utilise the bucket… and found it half-filled! (I don’t know!) The following ELPSOA (Extra-Long-Powerful-Spraying-Out-Allover) mode of wee-wee, almost caught me out with its ferocity! It actually wore me out by the time it had finished flowing! Tsk!
I took the medications. The handwashing was moved onto the warm-airer. As I turned on the computer, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room I poddled. And what an improved evacuation this one was. Slightly messy, no pain or bleeding whatsoever, exceptional, first-rate! I washed up, and returned to the computer, determined to get the updating done early. As I began… !
Well, who’d’ve to thunk it! Virgin Media was going down. Still mustn’t complain, it’s not lost its signal since yesterday! That wealth-seeking overpaid Mr Fries, the Gillie-wet-foot and liar, needs talking to about the reputation, dishonour, disrepute, and disgrace that the hated Virgin Media is being credited with here in Nottingham! Or maybe not, he still gets paid millions of dollars, bonuses and expenses, despite his failure to provide any internet service, beyond crap and pathetic! Bothered? Me?
I tried resetting, no luck. So, I took the opportunity to make another brew, check the washing and have another session on the Porcelain Throne.
Oh, what a heck of a change this time! Messy in the extreme, bleeding from the haemorrhoids and about as painful as is possible. Grumph!
And, to follow, a wee-wee that needs a new acronym! An AUMSOBO (An-Uncomfortable-Marathon-Session-Of-Blasting-Out) wee-wee!
And then, I found that Little Inchies fungal-lesion was bleeding too! By the time I got things cleaned up, medicated and myself back to the computer, I reckon about half-an-hour had gone by! Argh!
My concentration was shot, but the internet had come back online at least! I gave it a few minutes thought and went to make a brew, to try and unwind a bit.
I decided to take two pictures of roughly the same spot on the kitchen window’s wide thick and view & light blocking frame.
I did try with both the Canon and Nikon, to take a panoramic (I think that is what the ‘P’ setting is for) shot, but the hands and fingers were starting to kick off, and I failed on several occasions. Not that it bothered me too much, its the RAT (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis) in both knees and one elbow, that’s the worst thing this morning.
Still, a change is as good as a rest, some idiot said. The ever-changing wee-wees and rear-end evacuations make for an exciting everyday guessing-game pleasure. Hahaha!
The photo on the left was done on the Canon, and the right one, with the Nikon, both on the ‘P’ setting.
At long last, I got on with the updating of the Wednesday blog. It took far too long, with the fingers losing senses to though. There were some poorly-taken photographs that needed to be tweaked before I could use them. A couple, I couldn’t improve on though, so they went in as they were. A touch of a disappointment that. But still, I got it finished in the end. Weariness-Mode-Adopted!
I did find the one I took of Tim Price’s building to be of interest. I compare it here, with how it looked many years ago, on the photo I took from the web. It looks like he’s rebuilt it now, with some of his artwork on the exterior wall? Hehe!
I wondered if the van far right up the Stoney Street. Surely not, after all the years between the taking of the photographs that have past?
An office at the end on the left up Stoney Street, on the corner of Plumtre Street, is where I had my qualifying tests for a job at UPS, for their first site in England. This is where they declared me to have the highest ever level of EQ, they had had, anywhere in the world. Which I didn’t know how to react to until I got home and looked up what EQ was. Hehe! I didn’t pass the test, though or get a proper interview! I recall on the print out afterwards, they recommended my most suitable job to apply for, would be as a Police Officer! Nobody noticed at the time, the minimum height for applicants was six-foot, or, that I was 5’3″ tall! Ah, happy memories were stirred.
I got into the idea of time-lapse photos and had search for any similar ones in my Winwood Heights album. I came up with these. Yesterday, and a year and a month ago.
I made up an Ocado order. Not that I needed anything, but no one else sells the delicious brown tomatoes, or the Glengettie Gold teabags or the soft pickled beetroots in balsamic vinegar, so I ordered a couple of each in the process.
Sister Jane rang, and we had a good natter. She told me not to order anything else online.
A sad Dizzy Dennis visit and I seem to have lost hours. No idea what I was up to, but must have fallen asleep, because I woke up in the recliner, around 19:00hrs, confused and feeling light-headed.
Had a wee-wee, and struggled to keep upright while taking it. I got seated, and soon nodded-off again.
23:30hrs. I shot awake, nearly falling off of the chair! I haven’t the foggiest idea why or what caused this to happen. Was it a noise? Had I been dreaming a nightmare? Most annoying that I cannot recall any nocturnal hallucinations this time. Was I, or had I suffered one of my Brain-Storms? I just had to get up to have an investigation into what had instigated this semi-panic, the reason. Which in itself brought a bit of interest and even amusement to me.
I got up quickly enough, caught my balance without any bother, and kicked the flamming GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket) over! My heart sank, and my temper bourgeoned! I was so angry with myself! But, the need to find out what had caused my rude-awaking was more critical at that time. I stood the bucket back up, and in the semi-darkness, I stepped over where I assumed the contents had landed and spread…
And I trod unexpectedly, on a slipper, and slid forward landing on my left knee! The struggle getting back up was almost as absurd, too! Unthinkingly I grabbed hold of the swivel-chair to pull myself upright – and, as the chair, well, swivelled, I ended up back on the floor! Spreadeagled on my back, I was sure I must be lying in the spilt out contents of the bucket. But no! It seems that the GPWWB had not been utilised all night! Genuine laughter was had! Partly encouraged, by my good luck in the bucket not being used, something that does not happen usually! A feeling came to me that things were not so bad, after all. Hehehe!
After putting myself in recovery-mode, I had a walk around to check on things. I put the hearing aids in, and I could hear definite susurruses, humming sort of noise in the hallway. Not that it would have been the cause of the disturbed awakening, though. But I could not trace the origin of it. Nor did I locate any other reason. Tsk!
With my newly aching knee and back, I hobbled to the kitchen. Stopping, for a wee-wee en route. Back to the SGSS (Short-Gently-Sprinkling-Spraying) type.
I put the kettle on, and then took a photographicalisation of the pins, that were looking good. No bruising on the knee as far as I could see, either. Although it seemed a little more warped again this morning.
Made the brew, and took the medications. Leaving out the Senna and Movicol until after I have had a visit to the Porcelain Throne later, and can work out if there will be any need, for them to be used. It’s sod’s law nowadays, the evacuation may be liquified or rock-solid, there doesn’t seem to be any in-between options lately! I took a picture out of the thick-framed, multi-paned new window, with glass that cannot be reached to be cleaned.
I took the brew with me to the computer and checked to make sure that no liquids were on the carpet. All dry, Phew! But, oh dear, signs of nocturnal nibbling were rife! An empty cheesy curl packet, a couple of sherbert sweets on the recliner, and some suspicious-looking, but unidentifiable crumbs on the tray on the Ottoman! Guilty-Mode-Rubber-Stamped!
I decided to try and take some intentionally taken eerie views of the flat, before it got light. If they come out alright, I might use them as a Thoughts background later.
I got on with updating the Sunday blog. It took such a long time. Thanks to guess-who?
I got it all done and sent off eventually. (Thank you very much indeed Mr [Not fit for purpose], but multi-millionaire Fries!)
I’m tired already, Hehehe! But have to get more templates done in advance. As tomorrow I have two appointments. 07:30hrs, INR and Kidney blood tests. Then I must catch a bus to the City Hospital for the estimated 1>1½ hour, After-Stroke Assessment with Doctor S K Raghunathan and his team. So, I will have no time to get much else done. Busy-busy!
Got the page top graphics and Thoughts done, and made a start on this blog.
With time running short, I got the ablutions tended to. Only one dropsy this morning, the toothbrush. Although, there were many close shaves with the razors.
Got the waste bags readied, and took them with me on the way out, to drop down the chute. Took the recycling jars out and in the bin on the front, and came back in to walk through the new passage to the Winwood Court site. Time for me to pop out to have a sit on the benches outside through a door in the passageway, and have a go at the crossword puzzles, I thought, but no! The green exit button might be on a timer, but it would not work and open the door for me. Mary was going through as well, and I joined her for a natter on the way to the Winwood Courts. Plenty of Woodthorpe Residents in their, Angela and Roy, Mary, Doris and Christine, and Pete joined us. We made our way out through the Winchester Court door and to the bus stop. Quiet a gang amassed, and I managed to hear a little of their gossiping. Much laughter flowed, as well.
Had an entirely failed go the crossword book en route! Arriving in town, and walked down Queen Street to the most untidy and messy looking slab square.
I took a shot of the Red’s True Barbecue window on the way down the hill. Very South Americanish layout inside. Bare wood furniture, dust and dirt in view, the place seemed to be on different levels and all fiddly. Actually, I liked what I saw. But, it would not be possible for me to treat myself, as access would be impossible. Shame, but at least it’ll save me money. Hehehe!
I was hobbling well, no Arthur Itis, no Anne Gyna and no Duodenal Donald bothering me at all. I felt a little lonely. Haha! Through the square and got to the Poundland store on Wheeler Gate. The Nottingham populace seems to be split between those in high spirits and others looking mightily-depressed and gloomy this morning.
The shopping therapy in the shop ensured I kept up this new-found, erm… what’s the word? Semi-contentment, growing from within. And me feeling this, is rare and bloodcurdlingly nerve-racking, almost traumatic! The EQ told me something was coming my way, that was going to be good news! For me, a professional shlimazel and euphobia sufferer, the reception was mixed.
However, I was so proud of myself, when I arrived at the fridge and resisted getting any Pork Farms pork pies that were there, tempting me as they lay innocently, but appetisingly temping on the shelves! (Actually, I did put one in the basket, but returned it as I fought back the tears!) I ended up getting two ready-made sarnies, some Twiglets, waste bags, bleach, Poptastic crisps, Dettol and a bag of salted chocolate pretzels.
I paid at the self-serve till. Put the light stuff in a carrier and hung it on the three-wheeler, the rest in the pathetically tiny shop-bag on the trolley, and set out on m way to photograph some parts of Nottingham City Centre not done before, along with some spot ones.
I started with a picture of St Peter’s Church in the distance and Wheeler Gate. The sun was coming out and then disappearing, odd sort of weather.
I took a view up Exchange Walk towards the slab square. Not many folks about.
I did a 180° turnaround and took a photographicalisation upwards of St Peter’s tower and clock. Being a shaded area, it did not come out too well, but a smidge moody I thought?
After taking the shot, I went a bit giddy for a few seconds, but it didn’t last long. Tsk!
I then walked up St Peter’s Gate, then had a hobble up through the newishly refurbished Flying Horse shopping arcade. Many of the posh shops, art galleries etc. were now closed-down. It was a depressing, sad limp through this so-called high-class arcade. The first empty unit, gone out of business, shop as I entered, was for rent, asking £42,000 per annum! Then there will be rates, electricity etc. poor devils!
The Arcade looked nice and clean. Then again, not many people walked on it! This would have done better in Chelsea or somewhere like that, a death knell, in Nottingham for the traders!
The alterable weather made me think it was going to rain, but it didn’t. The Nottinghamians were still in short supply.
On Cheapside, another closed down store. There were many more, of course. I searched Google to see if I could find the rent being demanded. Wait for it… £75,000 per annum! I make that £1,442 per week! No wonder the retailers are going bankrupt! The end is nigh!
I then did a bit of photographing from the back of the Council House, on High Street and long Row.
I limped up Queen Street and took a shot of Upper Parliament Street, then hobbled back down to the L9 bus stop. No residents got on the bus en route at all!
Soon back at the flats, and I was feeling pretty good for some reason. Mary dropped off the other bus, and we walked back together to Woofthorpe Court. We tried the swipe of door to the seats outside, but it was still not responding to the fob. Mary and I had a natter, got into the lift, Mary off on the first floor, farewells exchanged, and I went up to the twelfth, and into the flat. I knocked on Josie’s door, but no answer.
Knowing that no one was due to call, I had a wash and stripped off. (Good job there are no CCTV in the flat, Hehe!) As I was getting the nosh prepared, the Intercom sprang into life. Luckily I saw it light up, as I was in the hallway at the time. It was Charlene, the beautiful phlebotomy nurse. I was so surprised, with the Sherringham Surgery appointment for blood tests in the morning!
I got the dressing gown on quickly, and Charene came up, and I told her about the appointments. She said she had been told to take extra blood for testing today. She could see I was a little baffled and kindly rang the surgery, to advise them and get advice for me. So, there is no need for my visiting them in the morning at all! Nice of them to inform me! Humph!
I thanked the nurse, and off she flew, like an angel! When she had gone. I realised what the EQ message (something was coming my way, that was going to be good news), I got in the Poundland shop was all about! Now I will some time to do today’s blog finishing, before going to the City Hospital appointment. Great!
I stripped off again and finished preparing the nosh.
I managed to eat a little less tonight. Well, I think I did? All cold stuff. Ready-made sarnies from the Poundland Shop, some of the Extra Strong Red Fox cheese from Morrisons; that is actually bland and almost tasteless! The last two mini pork pies and apple slices, beetroot and a few of the tangy Poptastic crisps.
I washed the pots etcetera, and got the hand-washing done, but forgot to do the socks. Tsk!
Got snuggled down in the £300 second-hand, grotty beige-coloured, c1968, rusty, rickety, recliner to watch a Rumpole of the Bailey on TV… Zzzz!
00:25hrs: I awoke abruptly, to find the grey-cells were battling with emotions, fear, worries, etc., all at the same time. Some thoughts were critical, others of absolute nihility. I tried to gain some control over the mishmash of twisted, illogical input to the brain, without much success,
Not that this mattered much after I glanced at my second-hand bought from the charity shop £2 watch, now attached to its new £10 strap, to check the time. Klutz!
The back of my left hand, had nocturnally developed many tiny blood spots?
Many ideas and silly thoughts flowed into my mind, as I pondered on what might have caused this. Had the cunning Weevils increased the strength of their jaws, and we now capable of penetrating the skin? Later, I looked them up on the web, and found:
They might be called Red moles, or cherry angiomas.
Red moles, or cherry angiomas, are common skin growths that can develop on most areas of your body. They’re also known as senile angiomas or Campbell de Morgan spots. They’re often found on people aged 70 and older, sometimes younger. The collection of small blood vessels inside a cherry angioma give them a reddish appearance.
However, it may be a sign of abnormal growth of blood vessels into a skin cancer. Red is a colour of concern within a mole, as it is not usually found in normal moles. There are of course red spots such as “haemangioma”, which are not moles but benign cancerous growth of blood vessels.
Cherry hemangioma. Cherry angiomas, also known as Campbell De Morgan spots or senile angiomas, are cherry red papules on the skin.
Warfarin users should have no concerns, as long as the papules do no start to itch. If itching or irritation does begin, consult your Cardiac Medical Practitioner immediately.
I have no itching, so nothing to fret about after all. I think? Hehe!
Off to the Porcelain Throne. I’m reluctant to go into too much detail about this evacuation. But feel I must this time, to link things to some rationalisation of why it was like it was. Does that make sense? However, the funny side being that rock-hard mini-rugby ball shaped things painfully parted presence with the pancreas, to the Porcelain. Nice to be able to report there was no bleeding, though. I perused a full chapter of the Clarkson Unofficial Biography book for the proceedings were completed.
I considered that perhaps the Soya lumps I ate last night in my homemade stew or whatever it is called that I brewed up, may have an effect on my Porcelain Throne evacuation?
I cleaned up and found just one dead EIBWBBB (Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetle) in the wet room.
Having been often fooled often before by the perspicacious, fiendish Weevils, into thinking they were losing the battle, I still used up some more Bug Killer Spray.
Into the spare room for a Weevil reconnoitring patrol.
I found about six EIBWBBBs in the spare room! Gathered around the hole in the sealant that they left me when they put in the new windows.
This increased EIBWBBBs liveliness and movement in the spare room resulted in my using up a full can of the Sanmex bug killer in one go. The usual coughing session followed.
Rinsed up and got the Health Checks done. Took the medications, the made a brew of Yorkshire Tea.
A second summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Back to the wet room. One more EIBWBBB spotted as I settled on the Porcelain. Amazingly, the evacuation was back to the sloppy but full-bodied variety! The nugget shaped things had gone? I was a little doubtful as to why the sudden change?
At last, I got around to updating the Friday Diary, and…
It was hard work for hours, getting the blog finished off. I had to redo a lot of stuff thanks to Virgin Media not allowing me to save work I’d just done. Perseverance won the day finally, and the internet became a little faster… No, that’s not right, I meant a little less slow. Fehl!
I got the mushrooms in the pan with some balsamic vinegar, light soy sauce, and distilled vinegar.
Went on Facebooking, adding photos and on the TFZer site.
Then on WordPress Reader.
I did some CorelDraw prep work and the weariness dawned?
So I did the Health Checks and took this photo of the view from the kitchen window.
Took the medications and had a look to see if anything worth watching was on the gogglebox.
Got the fodder prepped and served up.
As I eating this meal, I felt the weariness getting worse. I didn’t even eat it all up, and there was not a lot to consume.
I managed to get the last Health Checks done and wash the pots. By which time, I was feeling shattered, zonked, and ready to drop.
Got down in the £300 second-hand recliner and things got worse for me.
For six hours, all I did was shake, shiver and kept waking up every ten-minutes… well it felt like that. Then the SSWWs started, and over the following four hours or so, I lost count of the trips to the Porcelain, for both activities. The rear end evacuations were back to the messy liquid stomach unsettling kind. After the last visit to the Throne, I got back down again to tried desperately to get some sleep. Humph! Not Good!
00:10hrs: I bestirred, the head full of memories of my hilarious nocturnal eidolons. Of course, these recollections soon faded into the ether, as is the necessary way with dreams. I fortunately had as I usually do, a notepad and pen on the Ottoman (formally known in this household as the Toe-Stubber, Hehe!) at the side of the £300 second-hand rickety recliner. The things I scribbled down, although mostly unreadable by the time I got around to creating this post, were invaluable as memory prompters.
My nighttime deleria seemed to have contained moments or incidents of hallucinations, all euphorically tempered, with such pleasure and contentment, like never before! I was able to think of things and people, and they appeared in front of me connected with my thoughts? I could float around, I think I was in a giant cave of some sort… people I’ve have known I had conversations that were all a joy to me… I did things I have not been able to do for donkey’s years in these visions. Suzanne, Dad and other people I worked with, were amongst the many visitors I summoned up. Without questions, this was one the most frolicsome, jovial, convivial and satisfying dreams I’d had, ever!
Coping with the realisation that it was all phantasmagoric and illusory, brought down my dispositional status a tad. Tsk!
My minds thoughts were soon moved on from the daydreaming of my night’s ‘La La Land’ dreaming, onto my sudden and urgent need to remove my body from the recliner and get to the Porcelain Throne post haste! The evacuation went well, no bleeding or messy leaking for once. Got a rinse and because I could see a couple of the EIBWBBBs (Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles), I adopted my Seek & Destroy Mode, pocketed two cans of bug killer, and went on a reconnaissance and perlustration mission to assess the state and strength of the Weevil army this morning.
I sprayed and searched each of the rooms, with odd results.
Only six of the beasts were found. But, they were all much bigger than usual. I made this picture of the prisoners and where they were found. The fact that they were well spread around the apartment indicated to this seasoned EIBWBBB Battling of buggers that they might be in the process of increasing their numbers? After I had got things sorted out an ready to start doing my Health Checks, I spotted dozens of tiny baby Weevils on the kitchen floor, underneath my medical stock cabinets. They are planning something, the devious little devils! Cunning Chicanery is afoot! I can sense it!
Took the morning medications and got the Health Checks completed.
The results were okay. Perhaps the Sys was a little high, but it’s been a lot worse.
With the INR level coming back as so high, I expect things like this to happen until the level comes back down to near normal.
This reminded me, I have to take care not to have any bangs, bruises or cuts, well, extra attention while the risk of bleeding so quickly is still lurking. Also, to wrap up well when I go out, cause with the blood so thin, I always feel the cold a lot more than usual. However, ailment-wise I cannot complain, though, this good day. Mentally is another questions. Hehehe!
I could hear what sounded like running water or steam escaping? I had a looked around, but found nothing that could be causing it. Opened the window, but it didn’t seem very windy, the rain was falling, yes, but unless it is pouring down I can’t hear it usually, and it seemed light?
I got on with updating the Thursday blog and got it posted off, all within three hours, which was not bad.
I got some of the soya lumps soaking in water with balsamic vinegar, to get ready for adding them to the crock-pot.
0530hrs: Made a start on this post then, got up to here and decided to update the Facebook photo albums and next on to the TFZer site.
0750hrs: Got the Facebooking finished. Phew!
Wash the tea mug, and took a shot through the kitchen window, of the weather waiting for me outside. Oh, heck!
I checked the soya and added it to the mushrooms, turnip and black eye beans in the slow-cooker. Added some pork gravy granules and a drop more balsamic vinegar, oregano and onion salt. Set it on auto, put the lid on and hoped for the best, it would turn out okay later.
I poddled to get the ablutions done.
While I was shaving, a dirty great big EIBWBBB came out from behind the tap, and I felt he/she was mocking me, laughing at me! Probably an intelligence observer for the Weevil army? Foolishly I let to his get to me and took a quick swipe at the Weevil with the Bic throw away razor which was in my hand, and the plastic broke, sending the bladed end flying somewhere, I heard it bouncing, pinging off of things. But I still have yet to find it? I got another razor to replace it, but remain befuddled over two things, first the thing breaking in the first place, and secondly, where the hell did the ginormous Weevil get to? Oy Yey!
All clean and freshened up, I took a recycling bag and two black waste bags with me. Dropped the trash down the chute, and tool the white bag down and out to the caretaker’s door.
The drizzle drizzled, as drizzle does, and I made my way to the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Wardens Temporary HQ. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationistical Meeting Shed. Telling Inchcock off Zone. Where things like crockery and pottery get stolen from, and somewhere to rest while waiting for the bus and Rumourmongering Clinic, Portakabin. There were several young men from Nottingham City Homes, preparing for the Question and Answer session later on. I recall thinking how sickening it was, the fact that each one was younger, fitter, better looking, taller, had hair and were smarter than I was. But the feeling faded later when I remembered they all had to work for a living! Hahaha!
The rain steadied down, and after a natter, laugh and found they liked my blog, I went out to join some other residents at the bus stop. Shirly, Mary and Big John with others. Cyndy and Margaret joined us later, but not in time for a natter, as the buses arrived.
We were soon in town, and I dropped off to go to Batteryman stall on Clinton Street West.
I asked if he could change the battery and watch strap for me. Through gritted teeth, I got a muttered answer which I assumed was of a positive nature, as he put out his hand for me to give him my watch. He would not change the battery cause the watch was still going? I counted the time on the clock behind him, it took him 2m 10 seconds to put on the strap and ask me for £10. What a plonker I am! I just paid £10 for a watchstrap for my second-hand watch that cost me £2! Klutz!
I went into the Poundland shop next to the stall. Came out with Mallard food, a pork pie, gloves, and a bobble cap.
I paid and made my way along Upper Parliament Street, where this chap reminded my of Candid Camera stunt played so many years ago. Funny how some things can trigger thoughts.
Like these Nottiinghamian pedestrians wandering uncaringly across the pelican lights (cross-walk in America, I think?).
These lights have to my knowledge, had five accidents at this junction in the last month. Tsk!
Still, must be expected I think. What with mobile phones being used, some people inebriated and Christmas shopping, I forecast many more traffic accidents again this month.
I turned into Clumber Street and fought my way through to the Sports Direct shop, intent on going upstairs to see if they had any suitable long sleeve shirts for me to buy.
A bit of good luck here, I went the right way through the displays for once and came across a selection of what had on the labels: Lee-C Crew Swtr SnC98 80% Off – £34.99 Now £6.99. I got carried away and bought six of them! The bags were getting heavier now, again, and the bank balance, lighter. Oy Vey!
I had a walk down to High Street. Went into the Exchange Shopping Arcade for a shortcut to keep out of the rain that had started. Again, some units had closed down. So sad. But as I spotted in a shop on the right, they were offering a Special Offer on some Doc Martin boots, a 10% discount for Students. Which meant that the Jaden Glitter boots at £159 could be had for only £146.10… no wonder shops are closing down. Tsk! But as you see, it’s not been busy for years!
Got the brolly up, and hobbled by the slab square with its numerous new food stalls and amusement, to the other Poundland shop. As the other one did not have any of the Ritz Salt & Vinegar thins in stock.
I came out with some unneeded stuff for the nibble box, and two packets of the Ritz Thins.
Paid at the self-serve tills, but the machine would not take my card. A lady came, and she could not get it to either. Eventually, after three more tries, it worked. I just hope I don’t find out I’ve paid three times?
Back through the slab square, with its many Merry Nottinghamians, looking sour and glum as they realise the prices being asked by the stall holders, I think
The Ice Mountain, I found out, is only open at night when the lights and imitation snow show up well. Two runs down for £3 the poster said.
Later on, I found a photograph on the Nottingham Post of a girl on the ride.
They call it a toboggan run.
She certainly seems to be enjoying it, bless her cotton socks.
Time to catch the L9 bus now.
I managed to get my severely obese body through the crowds of gay abandoned cheerful, happy Nottinghamians, and up Queen Street to the L9 bus stop.
No one from the flats got on en route which is rare.
As the bus went up Porchester Road before turning down Moore Road, I attempted to get some photographs of the multitude of houses and estates in the distance.
The first one I took came out with a blank background, not showing what I was looking at, at all. Grumph!
The next effort was at the junction of Longbeck Avenue, but this was a little too far down, and I still missed the scenic view. Although if you look at some of the dwellings closely, they can be seen.
Still, not too bad cause the bus was moving and I was taking them through the windows.
If I can think of any more excuses, I’ll add them later. Haha!
Back at the flats, hellos, sarcasm’s, insults and laughs were shared with some of the residents getting on, as I got off of the bus.
I took three photographs of Winwood Heights in the gloomy weather. Winchester Court, the unnamed new Extra Care block being built and my beloved Woodthorpe Court.
I got in and put the purchases away. Had an SSWW. I did the Health Checks and medication taking.
A quick EIBWBBB check produced two in the wet room and one in the kitchen. What’re their tactics? Plans?
Checked the crock-pot with the soya, mushrooms and turnips coming along nicely. Going to have a few chips with this stew (or whatever it should be called?) methinks.
Updated this blog to here, and updated the Facebook photo albums.
Got the last Health Checks done, and the nosh prepared.
I tried the soya chunks, seasoned with balsamic vinegar and pork gravy, with mushrooms. Black eye beans and turnips. I added tomato puree and oregano.
No idea what it will be like, but here goes.
Got it served up. I shall not bother with having the soya again I think. It was bland tasting despite the flavourings I’d thrown at it. Although it was inspired by Jenny’s chilli, it lacked her skills in cooking. Tsk!
Everything else made up for the soya failure, the beans, mushrooms and turnips came out delicately flavoursome.
As I washed the pots, the darkness lifted outside for a while, and I could not resist trying to get a shot of the houses and dwellings in front of the flats.
They look almost like they are modelled miniatures houses, do you think?
I did the Health Checks, imbibed the medications and rubbed in the creams and lotions. And off for an SSWW to the wet room
Where I trod on the previously magically-disappeared broken-off bit of the Bic razor! A spot of luck though, all the same, no bleeding caused! Just a painful welt. Oy Vey!
Took me while sort myself out, then back to the kitchen.
Where I found the lighting had changed dramatically. Suddenly it had gone all dark and foreboding.
I got settled into my £300 second-hand rusty tattered recliner. With the intentions of watching some TV programmes that looked to be of interest.
23:25hrs: The brain woke up at the same time as my body this morning (rare! Hehe!) The mind was free of the usual fearful, apprehensive and vacillating thought-storm, for a change, no barrage from the encephalon today. But I did have a headache.
As I lay there, thinking ‘By gum, it feels all warm and snug this morning in here’, I moved the head and felt a bit of pain from the back of it? I had a feel around and found a tiny lump or bruise. But cannot recall anything happening that might have caused it? Well, at least it explains my headache. Hehe! Then again, this is not surprising, with my having had the Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun visits last night.
I unhitched my hog-like, outsize, paunchy-stomached body free of the £300 second-hand recliner, and made my way to the Porcelain Throne. Another firm-flatulent evacuation. During which, I spotted just three of the EIBWBBBs (Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles). I cleaned up and antisepticated the hands and contact points.
Then, adopted a Weevil-Seek and Destroy mode with the bug killer, in all of the rooms.
I’m pleased to report, that when I collected them all up, they counted to only nine, all dead EIBWBBBs in total! I reckon that mayhaps, the colder wet weather was helping keep these alien invaders down?
I went to the kitchen to get the Health Checks done. I turned off the light to take this photograph out of the window of the rainy start to the day.
Unfortunately, for me, this is when I spotted the light on in the stove and realised I had left the oven on all night! What a nebbish!
After taking the picture, and having the brainwave to use it as backing for my Thought of The Day; I left a finger in between the frame and the window casing as I closed it. I also believe I am a mashugana! I silently muttered something naughty under my breath!
Taking the medications, I added a stool softener capsule and Codeine Phosphate to the morning doses. The painkiller, to counter my headache, finger pain. Now Duodenal Donald is starting to kick in too. So, I had a decent guzzle of the ineffective, weak, not fit for purpose cheaper substitute for Aludrox medicine, named Peptac. Humph! At least Shaking Shaun is giving me a break. Odd moments of instability indicated that Dizzy Dennis seems to be lingering in the background, preparing an attack, though.
Golly-gosh, the Sys, Dia and pulse readings were a little high?
I got on with updating the Saturday post. But did not get far…
Back on again… Tsk!
Finished the Saturday blog at last. 0500hrs!
Went on YouTube and dunked some biscuits.
Started this post off. 05:55hrs: Got up to here, and decided to get the laundry sorted out and done. Down and deposited the washing in the machine and back up to the apartment.
Hello, another Porcelain Throne visit called for?
Watched some YouTube car crash videos, then back down to swap the clothes to the drier.
I took the recycling bag down with me to drop outside near the caretaker’s door with the others there already.
Down and out, The scaffolding is disappearing from around the foyer area outside, now. I put the big white bag of recyclable materials down and added my mint sauce jar and chestnut jar in the glass recycling bin.
They looked out-of-place mixed in with the other tenants, Chardonnay, lager, wine, Gin, whiskey, rum, and champagne bottles, etc.
When I emptied the drum, I found a tea-towel at the bottom that was not mine. Some poor soul had missed it earlier when taking their stuff out. I put it on the window ledge in clear view, so if they realise and come to have a look, it will be easy for them to spot it.
I moved the things to the dryer, the filter was cleaned out, well done to whoever did it.
Two residents came in when I went out to take this photo on the left, of the rain puddles outside.
They did not speak, nor did I because as they came into view, I had my camera up to my eye! I got a look of suspicious, surprise and superiority. (Work out what a look like this looks like if you can. Hehehe!)
Back again to the flat, and updated this blog, until it was time to go back to collect the clothing.
Argh! A third visit to the Throne! Not good this! And a heavy duty one as well. A smidge of blood in there, too. Feeling uncomfortable in the lower regions now! Humph!
The alarm I set chimed out, and down to the laundry room again.
I went to get one of the toothbrushes to clean the filter with, and they were gone? Used my fingers. Got the togs out and cleaned the drum with the antiseptic wipes I keep in the laundry bag.
Up to number 72 and got the clothing in the airing cupboard. Made-up the freshener and pod pots with new supplies and put back in the bag.
0900hrs: On the Inchcock Today blog amending.
1250hrs: Finished the blog updating. Many (SSWWs in between)
Weary and tired, I thought I’d have a sit down in the £300 second-hand recliner with a drink of spring water and lemon cordial, and watch a DVD. I soon fell asleep.
I woke to see the landline phone ringing light flashing. Escaping the grip of the recliner in time before it stopped, it was Sister Jane who rang.
Unfortunately, as I was chatting, I realised that the fungal lesion had been bleeding and dried, and moving out of the chair had cracked things and started the flow of blood again! Huh! Lucky or what? Still, I chatted away with Jane as the blood flowed down my leg, and enjoyed it. Not the blood running down, I mean the Sister Jane chinwagging)
Off to the wet room to clean up and medicate things.
Got the meal sorted and served up. I reckon if it weren’t for the Morrison’s anaemic, flavourless, plastic-like beef slices, this meal would have been one of the best ever this year, tastewise. The bean flavouring came out perfect for once, balsamic vinegar, half-a-spoon of demerara sugar, mustard and oregano. The potato slices cooked just how I like ’em. The yellow toms were tasty, too. 9/10 Taste Rating!
Health Checks were done, and I took this photo from the kitchen window as the sun suddenly came out.
The twinkle reflections were not planned or wanted, but it came out looking a bit different anyway.
I watched some TV (all of five minutes or thereabouts, Hehe!), before nodding off into dreamland.
0440hrs: I woke several times during the short period of three hours, from when I eventually managed to nod-off, and now. Memories (No notes found) of a dream were pretty lucid, I scribbled some reminders straight away. And drew a depiction of the ghosts and ghouls, that in the nightmare, had been blocking my access to the wet room and use of the Porcelain Throne! I manoeuvred my short fat body from the £300 second-hand recliner, had a wee-wee of long duration and got the computer on, and CorelDraw opened, then made the graphic-up on top of this page. Nothing like the actual dream images of course, but the theme was right. Hehehe! I did not feel trepidatious in the least about this dream, but found it humorous, even when the paramnesia was in full flow, I think.
Having woken up in such a different fashion to normal this morning, I’m pleased to report that the mind-wandering, and yonderly off on its own accord machinations, did not take place. I felt rather calmer than usual as well. Why; I don’t know.
Off to the Porcelain Throne, and more good news. Trotsky Terence had eased off, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids had not bled at all overnight. Worries me this good news, it is unnatural for me. Humph! Hehe!
Cleaned up and off to the kitchen to make a brew and do the Health Checks.
The high winds of yesterday had steadied now. The tree copse looked so beautiful to me, in the half-light in its peaceful surroundings.
The disconcertment, fretfulness, and fear I would usually go through in the morning did not appear. For this I was grateful, but I did contemplate as to why this was happening. There is no rest for an uneducated mind that has an eminently high EQ, and the lowest of IQs. Life can be a bummer, but still, not to worry. (If only that were possible!) Chutzpah is something I lack. If it is worryable about or over, I’m yer man to do this. Worra Yutz I am!)
Did the Health Checks, applied the creams and lotions and took the medications.
I think the slight increase in the Sys and Dia results are well within range.
Made a start on this diary.
0720hrs: A few seconds of banging about from above. But of course, I am not complaining, just mentioning it. No point in my is risking Nottingham City Homes getting upset with me again, for moaning about their favourite can-do-no-wrong tenant making a noise. As the Management, told me; He is doing nothing wrong, just following his hobby of model making. I don’t want to lose my home.
I got caught up to here, and then went to update and get the Saturday post-sent-off.
Finally got it finished, and only one comment to reply to, I went on the WordPress Reader. Really was some good stuff on there today. I spent over two hours of enjoyable reading.
1100hrs: I put the France v Australia match on the TV and put the headphones on to listen while I got on with computerisationing. Haha!
Big John Herbert has been unnoisy for ages. Silent? He might have gone out. Either way, Thank You, Big John.
I decided to get some diary drafts made up in advance, started making the page top graphics on CorelDraw first.
I diverted to trying to get the Excel book for the INR readings updated with the formulas that Tim Price gave me. It took a while, many faffles, failures and frustrations. But, I got it right. Phew! Thanks, Tim.
Back to CorelDrawing.
12.15hrs: The crappy pathetic FIFA referee and the idiots monitoring the VAR replay, have just given France a penalty! UNBELIEVABLE! The tackling Aussie got the ball and momentum followed through, only the slightest of touches anyway. Wrong! I want to call the cheating animals a naughty rude, wicked name, I’ll do it mentally.
Ah, 1218hrs. And, the referee has given the Australians a penalty, which was clearly a foul in the box. VAR consulted again. YES, he scored!!!!!! Partial Justice! ‘Cause the first one was never a penalty – Shoot the Ref! as we used to shout in my supporting Forest days.
I put the big spud in the oven to bake.
Back to Coreldraw again.
1138hrs: SHIT! France scored! VAR confirmed. Humph! They’ve dived and cheated to get the penalty and got away with it too!
Back to CorelDrawing.
Dog-nabbed Frenchies have won the match. By cheating, diving and most likely bribing the officials. After this, I think they might well go a lot further than folks thought. I hope when they meet Russia, they get thrashed and annihilated!. Grumph! They should have listened to De Gaulle and not let us into Europe, then they would not be blocking Brexit and generally being nasty to us! The Gits! Oh, I got a bit carried away there. Sorry!
Now they have lost the picture on BBC1. Fancy that.
Back to CorelDraw again.
Oooh, the potato needs cheesing and putting back in the oven, I’ll do it now.
Got the nosh prepared and served up.
I think that Herbert must have gone out, the noises don’t seem to be being made. Mind you, that could be something to do with me having the headphones on and hearing aids, out?
This nosh earned a 9.35/10 Taste-Bud rating.
I washed the pots and got settled down to watch the next football match on the goggle-box.
An attack from Dizzy Dennis was not too bad balance-wise, but it stayed with me for ages.
Did the Health Checks and had many wee-wees over the next few hours. Whatever I was trying to watch on the TV did not make its way into the brain, Dennis was in charge now.
I did manage many nod-offs of varying lengths, and recall I had a dream about me visiting a country cottage on my old motorbike, and someone darning my socks and dying them a different colour? There was a dog a lady and a man in the room, and we laughed so much.
I hoped that I could have got back to that dream, but of course, I couldn’t. Hehe!