Advice For Whippersnappers – Part 26⅙th

Advice For Whippersnappers

Part 26⅙th

Oddities whippersnappers may encounter, like leprosy,
An honest politician (Joking!), or water on the knee,
Have ten children; some are yours, at most three!
Go to Scotland for the whisky and to find Nessie…
Soon realise your sanity is becoming an absentee!

Cuddle up to and grope a gal, all nice and cosey…
Sweet words are shared, things getting lovey-dovey!
Then find out her name is Arthur and not Rosie…
No need to feel embarrassed, daft, or dozy…
Fake an excuse, rush off, and send him a posey!

One day you may become an abductee!
The kidnapper demanding lots of money…
Before he’ll think of setting you free…
But no one will pay; you’re not famous, yer see?
He’ll likely keep you as an adoptee!

You’ll eat strange foods, & plain foods, like onion bhaji,
Liqueurs, cannabis cheesecake, and beetroot coffee?
Pickled walnuts, fingernails, and chocolate garibaldi…
Even if financially up a gumtree…
Try anything, as long as it’s free!

Will you be an owner, manager, or employee?
Mayhaps a hippy with long hair and a goatee?
Drugged up to eyeballs, living in a fantasy?
Marching against bombs and nuclear energy…
Just like your Mam and Dad did in 1953!

No need to use a snickersnee or machete…
Wounding or killing is plain bizarrerie…
It could be you’ll need a necropsy?
All through greed and your bellicosity,
Finish now, with hatred and animosity!

Keeping on the straight and narrow takes fortuity…
To hide your weaknesses and frangibility…
We’ve only one life each, not an eternity
Staying honest and non-aggressive shows dignity!
At St Peter’s gate, of wrongs, you’ll need deniability,
It’ll be no good pleading for mercy, circumstantially!

When it comes to things financially,
You must avoid showing credulity!
Moneylenders, Bank managers, show crudity…
But do it to start with using misleading civility!
Muggers and robbers take your cash with audacity!

As you get older, you’ll go much more often for a wee-wee!
With little warning, you’ll rush to the WC…
But, you won’t make it in time very often you see…
I know, cause every day this is happening to me!
It’ll dribble or torrent, with no controllability…

The protection pants offer little comfort to me…
But less protection, as I increase my bellies adiposity…
Struggling, Little Inchie gets stuck in the zip… agony!
I wet myself; wetter than if on a water-skiers jetty!
It bleeds, I cry… this is ageing – it’s not very pretty!

Inchcocks tries to Make Them Laugh in Odes Series

Inchcock Today: Diary Friday 1st April 2022

Friday 1st April 2022

Morning Ode

Mankind, indeed all tellurians are in a schemozzle…
Humans can kill if they’re overcharged for Chipotle,
Fish stocks are dwindling, mot in good fettle…
Putin attacks Ukraine… not very subtle…
Who can stop him? No one’s got the bottle,
Nor the capability, no military muscle…
This is not just an unneighbourly tussle!
On the brink of the final world war… hopes frizzle…
The outcome will have no one to dazzle…
Hell, for Putin, would be no one left to go shooting!

Except for his own countrymen, that was tried by Stalin!
It made the world scared of Russia, of even talking…
As Putin eyes up the world with its Nations tottering…
From Putin, there’s no schnorring or flimflamming…
Civilians in the Ukraine, Russia, Putin is killing…
For Europe he’ll is surely intent… he’s coming!
The West isn’t thinking, it’s farting about tinkering…
What Vodka should our politicians be drinking?
As our economies dwindle, rapidly shrinking…
When will it come? That’s what I’m thinking…
Can no one else see it? That’s staggering!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

04:30hrs: Up for a wee-wee, a nasty sprinkling all over one. I had to get the jammies in soak afterwards, with liquid Dettol disinfectant. Got a wah and made a brew of Glengettie.

Onto the computer to finalise yesterday’s blog. It took me six hours to get it done! A hard mental slog, hindered, mainly by Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Shaking Shaun. All in force with Dementia Doreen, the brain was a little lackadaisical, to say the least. I was getting angrier with myself every time a cock-up was made or missed.

Carer Richard arrived and sorted the medications and he took the washing and waste bags with him as he departed.

Mr Kind upstairs kicked of, but thankfully, not all day. After finishing the Wed-Thur blog, I did the ablutions and Porcelain Throne Rock hard again!, and made a brew of Glengettie…

Crap! The card reader had let me get the last posts’ pictures on. But now, it was now refusing to recognise the same car reader it had earlier in the morning! So, no point in me taking any more photos until I can use them! Gragnangles! I lost even more hours in failed attempts to get the bloody thing to work.

As of 16;20hrs, I’d had no luck at all.

Started again.

I gave up and started to make a meal. Boy was I pissed off! I turned everything off, to try again to get photos on later. Harrumph!

Carer Cheeky Charley arrived and got the medications sorted out.

Sweet Morpheus was very reluctant!

Inchcock Today: Monday 28th March 2022

MONDAY 28th MARCH 2022

In Brief & Ode

Problems a few, well, really quite a load…
Accifauxpas, bleeding, no real Smug-Mode…
Noisy Herbert, getting on my goad…
Memory blanks, mistakes made? A shitload!
I had to look up my own postcode!
The Thought-Storms constantly flowed…
Wee-weeing? The bucket nearly overflowed!
Stabbed myself with a toothbrush up my nose,
Will it get worse, discommode? Nobody knows…
What evils and stupidity Satan may bestow?
I’ll have a mug of tea and a marshmallow!

Haveth a great day!

05:30hrs, the usual jumping awake, with a verbal “Uhrge!” arrived. I pondered a few seconds to check on the time, day and need to activate the brain to join the body into some form of starting.

My hazy and befuddled brain sorted itself out in a fashion, and I decided to get the sphygmomanometerisationing done first thing. The grey plastic was half-filled before I started this slash. By the time I’d escaped the c1966 recliner, the need for a wee-wee had developed. And the urine flowed and splashed at a rate and pace never known before! How I held onto the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), I don’t know. But obviously, I had been wee-weeing throughout the night.

I still can’t work out how someone in my condition can free themselves from the recliner, take the few paces to the bucket, pass water (ferociously!) and get back down again… even once, and yet, not know he’s done it; when he wakes up? Someone must understand this. A psychologist or somebody? Which followed nearly every one of the wee-wees that followed today, and there were dozens of them! No wonder I can feel the dampness in the protection pants of the damned PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling).

There was much handling of things in washing and cleaning; poor Little Inchies’ fungal lesion started bleeding again later on. Humph!

I finally got around to taking the Blood Pressure. A fine set of figures they were too! SIA 144, DIA 48 and Pulse at 72… No, hang on. The DIA’s a good bit low… I’ll check it out.

No, that’s not too bad, only just in the red area anyway. For some reason, the low DIA brought it up overall a smidgeon. I’ve had it a lot worse than that. Last week one day, it was Sys 171, so I’m not fretting.

I used my Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. The result was a bit higher this time, almost on the target figure of 35!

All went well, apart from the teeth cleaning, which was bloody. Thanks to ailment number eleven, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. As it did two days ago when she made me drop the mug of Glengettie, her timing was cruelly well-timed. I was about to put the brush in my mouth, and she struck! Despite it being the brush end than entered my nasal channel, it was so fierce that it brought blood. However, it could have been worse, and I soon dried it up. A bit sore now, though, Hehehe!

I started updating yesterday’s blog, and Carer Richard arrived. The poor lad didn’t look too good; he was obviously weary, worn out, tired at the end of his shift. I brought him around a smidgeon with some nattering and a laugh or two, as much as was possible. I think his blood count was low. He said on leaving, he’s going to take his own medicines and get his head down as soon as he gets home. He still had a chinwag, though; I appreciated that from the man. Bade him good luck and health as he left, taking the taste bags with him for me to the chute.

I then spent hours trying to get the Card Reader to work to get the photos on the computer. I was at the limit of my patience and know-how of what else I could try… and wallah! The card suddenly returned to working mode? Although there have been odd, weird times when it tells me the reader is not recognised. So frustrating, I lost hours on the day messing about, turning everything off and back on, the card in and out of the slot… swearing, and at one point, I almost cried!

Eventually, I got the blog finished and posted it off to WordPress. Thank heavens for that!

Time for a mug of Glengettie!

I took these photographs of the view from the kitchenette window. The first one to the left (South), the second down almost straight ahead (East), finally one to the right (North)

I pressed on with starting this blog going. It was concentrating mind…

My sociable, kind, understanding, compassionate, snotty-nosed neighbour above started his clunking, banging noises with some venom. I think he’s realised he was not so bad yesterday and is making up for it?

I stopped to make a brew of Glengettie, wrapping the tea bag up and placing it in the small waste bag; this is what I saw (on the right here). My initial reaction was… Argh! Another Boll Weevil! Oh dearie me! Out came the sprays, and the kitchen got a good covering in all corners and every hidey-hole or corner that I could get at!

I got what I thought was the offending animal out of the bag – but I could not see if it was a weevil or something else, thanks to Cataracts Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades Sandra.

Well, well, well! Another cock-up made yesterday, discovered! Tsk! I looked at the watch, then the clock. A difference in time showing? I’d forgotten to put the clock forwards with all the others, but a true Masterstroke-Whoopsiedangleplop with the new square, easier-to-see wristwatch! I’d put that backwards instead of forwards!!! Humph! It took me a while to work out what time it was now! So, I now have no idea when I got up this morning.

The sky turned into a bright blue; I’m glad I caught it with the Canon cause minutes later, it had turned back into a bright pale blue shade. It turned out to be a decent effort, I thought for once.

I took a photograph of the Chestnut Way end car park. It appears that the Red Van Man has not used his vehicle since yesterday. Hope he’s not poorly. Time to get some fodder organised.

The evening carer arrived and soon had the medicationalisationing sorted out. Took the waste bag with her to the chute for me on her way out.

I took an easy option tonight. Cooked some mushrooms with balsamic vinegar, squid sauce and chillies powder. (Not as ad as it sounds as it turned out, Hehe!) I sliced some lovely yellow tomatoes and forced myself to cut up some of the sickeningly bitter, foul-tasting Moroccan red tomatoes. Added the last of the ‘Batter bits’, a small apple and a banana. A Lemon and Lime M&S yoghourt that needed a mortgage to buy. And tucked into the feast… Oh, and of course, with the two hot dogs with BBQ sauce added. Flavour rating 7.2/10.

I went to Washed the pots, then me, Putting the trousers back on afterwards by mistake for the jammie bottoms! Tsk! Then settled to watch my favourite TV show, ‘Heartbeat’.

I couldn’t enjoy the programme properly, cause Colin Cramps visited my left hand and fingers. Never known him to be so painful and persistent!

Unbelievably, Colin Cramps stopped tormenting me the very moment that the end credits rolled for ‘Heartbeat’. Ah, well!

I rose for a wee-wee, and boy, had I taken some over the day! On the bright side, Little Inchies lesion was not bleeding. Check the taps (faucets) and electrics, and I got down in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner.

The Thought-Storms kicked off straight away. They dragged things from over sixty-plus years ago; my errors, bad choices, failures… on and on, they kept coming! Some I had actually forgotten about altogether… they had to be mused over. I’ve no idea why; it only made me more depressed.

Out of desperation for sleep and to escape the storming, I turned the TV back on. Which worked… but at the same time, Colin Cramps attacked again in the same hand!

I think it was gone midnight again before I managed to nod off. Well, that’s not exactly right. I realised I’d not taken the Hemp capsule again! I nodded off many times, but only for a minute, then I’d shoot awake again.

At least the Thought Storms had given up on me, only to be replaced with Self-Hating-Harvey. I suppose that Dementia Doreen is at the route of things…

Inchcock: Ode to Old Nottingham Memories

Inchcock Loses the plot in this ode to Old Nottingham Memories

But he does his bestest, honest!

Nottingham has many virtues, good, bad and chronic…
Its history, of being Saxonic,
It’s people grand, pleb’s, murderers, some moronic,
Nowadays, we’ve bred more that are demonic…
Muggers, gangsters, shop lifter, a lot, schizophrenic…
A few have car insurance, and not many have a driving licence…
Younger Nottinghamians music is cacophonic…
Thousands of students, so some scientific…
We’ve had many arrested for being terroristic.

Many of them you’d think were telluric,
The job-shy, call having a cold being sick!
Many old uns like me, who remember Sputnik…
Using lard to make their spotted dick!
We’re snided out with those sarcastic…
Even more of them are vandalistic!
Gone are the days of the workaholic…
But also gone, getting polio, scabies and colic!
Hopes for our citizenry? Like a trip on the Titanic!

The tin bath dragged inside from the wall, metallic…
No bath salts, we made do with soap, carbolic!
Hot water, Ha! Boil it on the stove or fire; unhygienic!
The toilet outside at the end of the yard is unproblematic!
Mind you, in winter, I was a smidgeon unenthusiastic…
Coal-house out there, fetching wood could be traumatic,
In the dark, you could kill a rat or cat hidden – tragic!
But lazing in front of the coal fire was magic!
Until the burning ashes shot out, and the carpet got lit!

Anything to be written was in pencil or pen and ink!
We knew nowt about an uplink, hard-drive or weblink,
Mobile, cell phone, wristwatch, dentist or permalink,?
Our pleasures limited, Monopoly, maybe tiddlywink…
Swearing was minimal then, ratfink, burke or gink!
Getting the belt for devilry made us wince and squint!
I got a few lashes once, a day out…for not looking perjink!
I recall once, the lads writing on my leg splint…
Not a lot of it was spelt right; they put sinnt for sent…
But thickness and ignorance permeated wherever I went!

I tried to join a club once, ended up getting a blackballing!
My education, manners, and appearance were appalling!
My approach to girls, looking back… was bloodcurdling!
9 times out of 10, her admirers would end up brawling!
With me, the littlest, the one that kept falling & failing!
On this embarrassing subject, I’ll stop burbling!

Amongst the unknown to us was Methamphetamine,
Mind you, we’d a neighbour who’d supply whisky and gin…
I got IPA, Mackeson, Guinness, thus started drinking…
My intake, for many years, there was no curtailing…
But my love of beer was never really disabling,
Until cancer arrived, there was only one way of controlling…
I singularly went from a happy drinker to totally abstaining!
It was hard, so hard to do, I still find it appealing…
But without any help, encouragement or counselling,
I turned tea-total… smug-mode developing!

I became a keen lover of food and masticator,
My weight ballooned, and furthermore…
Got myself a duodenal ulcer…
Cancer of the bladder…
Then diabetes and nasty hernia…
Peripheral neuropathy, oh, bother!
A stroke, which left me a confused procrastinator…
Disabled, what next? Cataracts, Saccades and Glaucoma!
I was already going deaf, then bother with an incisor!

And to think, I used to be a blood-doner..,
Also, now, I do tend to stutter…
Still struggle with the wee-weeing bother,
Then I was confirmed to have Vascular Dementia…
This life has been terrible… yet also an adventure!
Oh, and the back’s developing a curvature…
I think its best to try and stay demure,
About there is no chance of a cure,
The failing eyesight is worrying me more…

Did I deserve all these ailments? That’s up for conjecture,
Is that the right word? I’ll check… Yes, no error!
Things seemed better in the days of yore, thereinbefore,
The Carers’ cost a lot, that’s for sure…
A little good luck, I could do with some more?
Dementia Doreen’s in control, I’m sure, that I can assure…
Yet at times, she rests, releases the memory-core…
If she returns and comes back to the fore,
She’s my ever-present concentration annihilator!

Sorry, I see my starting thoughts got juxtaposed…
Did my thought waves get overdiagnosed?
Is Dementia Doreen no longer comatose,
Or my incredulous logic, become indisposed?
Have I been overeating glucose,
I’ve just eaten a banana, and I’m adipose!
Would it be alright to have Marmite on toast?
The plot’s gone again – what a terrible host!.

Inchcock’s Abysmal Odeing – For Fun

Chinwag Two: With Alto-Ego Inchie

There I was, in heaven… with Sweet Morpheus, it was so nice!
I was romancing a buxom lass named Eunice…
And Inchie butted in, with his pestering moans and advice!
But, for the first time ever, we agreed and did empathise…
Perhaps it was not wise for us to try to fraternise?
But we did; I think he enjoyed it likewise!

Inchie: Well, that hospital visit was farce wonnit, mate?

Inchcock: Huh! You again, what’s wiv the mating bit, then?

Inchie: I know we’ve ‘ad our ups and downs, but you’ve been through a rough patch fer this last twenty years or so, and I thought it’d be nice to be nice for a change…

Inchcock: Did yer? I feel like by being non-argumentative, I’m taking away your little pleasures…

Inchie: Worrya mean?

Inchcock: Well, yer usually wins all the verbal fights and tiffs we ‘ave…

Inchie: Naturally yer turd! I’m yer Alto-Ego, yo are the ethereal thing like. So fings like conscience, giving a toss, and yer ability to fret, worry, show signs of pissed-offerdness, and you can get a bit depressed at times… I’ve noticed that! So I’m taking my chance to confuse yer all the more you see?

Inchcock: Not really; I’m flummoxed again already! Why can’t you just leave me alone to get some rest and peace?

Inchie: No, no, no! It doesn’t work like that, dumbo! It’s my job to hassle yer, keep yer on yer toes, like. Else overwise yer might commit Hagi-Kari… then…

Inchcock: What! After all, I’ve been through, do you think that I’d top missen? Rubbish, claptrap, your just stirring things again, aren’t you?

Inchie: Yea, I’m good at that, ain’t I, no doubt about it…

Inchcock: For God’s sake, if you are me, or my other half, surely you must suffer the agonies that I do – so why bother…

Inchie: Ah, you’ve not gorrit yet, have you? You are! I’m not me…

Inchcock: What?

Inchie: Yo just said, for God’s sake, yea?

Inchcock: Yes…

Inchie: Well, I know that yer doesn’t believe in him… see? Provin’ what an ignorant, uneducated, pug-faced, pathetic, docile, pussy-cat, yer really are, cocker! 

Inchcock: Fair enough with the name-calling; there may be an element of truth in some of what you say about me – but surely you must be the same yourself?

Inchie: Perhaps mush, or maybe not. Are you not talking to yourself in reality? Come on… answer that, yer moron!

Inchcock: If there isn’t any God, then why even bring up the subject – I’ll tell you why, no… hang on, what was the question?

Inchie: I know, but it got yer going, see!

Inchcock: How can one see? If you are really me? There is…

Inchie: You retardate; You just can’t grasp it, can you, tit-head?

Inchcock: Grasp what?

Inchie: The relationship between us, knucklehead! Yer still think yer talking to someone else?

Inchcock: I am, you!

Inchie: Yer, but I am you! Ain’t I?

Inchcock: Just because you say so does not mean that is correct!

Inchie: Ah, so you think we are two different entities then?

Inchcock: I’m not sure… what do entities mean?

Inchie: Concentrate pillock! Fink abarght this… you’d know what the word means, yea! If you was me, and I was you… right?

Inchcock: Erm…

Inchie: Look, numbskull, I think it best if yer gerron with the pork pie supper you wuss plannin’, then I’ll give yer an hour or so, I’ll come back to hassle yer a bit more. I can’t be fairer than that, can I? 

Inchcock: Does this mean I’ve won an argument with you?

Inchie: No, you silly old fart! It’s cause it’s Christmas!

Inchcock: Is it?

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Part of the Inchcock Make Them Laugh Series

Spurred by My Comedy Hero Spike Milligan

Impure Inchy – Thursday 4th March 2021 Diary

♥ TFZer Actresses on stage! ♥


Thursday 4th March 2021

Spanish: Jueves 4 de Marzo de 2021

23:40hrs: I removed my over-flabbily-bellied body from the c1968 recliner and utilised the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). A short sharp affair, with a lot of CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble) to follow.

No messing about, I got on the computer to create a template for today’s blog. Starting with doing a few graphics on CorelDraw. But, I didn’t get too far, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room. Incidentally, Cartilage Cathy was a lot kinder to me this morning.

It seemed to me that the daily PTDDSB (Porcelain Throne, Daily-Domination-Stakes- Battle) for supremacy in the evacuation was a close thing. Still, a comeback from Constipation Konrad had curbed the rampant messy tendencies of Trotsky Terence for once! So, I had a go at the crossword puzzle as I waited for things to kick-off. Just as yesterday, I didn’t solve a single clue! (Well, I’m consistent, if not capable. Hehehe! The movement started slowly and stayed that way, but no pain or bleeding, and as I said, it was a lot less mess to clean up. I still had to refill the tank by hand though, I think the problem is the fluffy too-thick toilet roll paper.

Back to the grahicalisationing, I went. Then made-up and started this template. Which took me ages to get this far with. Then, I went on to update the Wednesday Diary, at long last. I got it updated fully, emailed the link and went on the WordPress Reader section. Which I enjoyed considerably. Pinterested a couple of photographs, the read and replied to the WP comments that had come in. Some witty puns and quips came on this Thursday.

I was about to start collating the advance templates and realised the hours had shot by; it was time to get the ablutions tended to. As is usual with me, I got into the kitchen and got myself sidetracked once more.

I decided to get the hand-washing done first. But and however – guess who had left the hot water tap (faucet) to run cold? Yes, pickle-brain Inchcock had struck-again! Gawd-blimey, I this far too often! Hence decision had to be made (another Inchcock problem area!) My EQ told me there nothing to do but press on handwashing boiling the water in the kettle and saucepan, for more Whoopsiedangleplops were on their way! He also called me a name, a naughty one!

So, the half-hour or so handwashing exercise took me nearly two hours! Not to mention the scolding of two fingers fetching the kettle to the sink… Oh, I’ve said it! It’s a good job that I was in a slightly better mood today! I washed the long-sleeve jumper, the jammie-bottoms and the pair of long bamboo diabetic socks. The washed ones from yesterday were not fully-dry enough to put on today, so I got a couple of 100% short-ones to adorn after the ablutions to wear.

Then, as I checked the dryness of the other things that were hanging above the kitchen window, with perfect-timing, Peripheral Pete went into an involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routine! This caused me to drop the coat-hangars and the washing I had in my hand. Belt Cathy Cartilages knee against the floor cupboard, and hit my head against the heater getting back up again!

I made a start on moving the stuff back into the cupboard, but soon lost interest!

My new found emotions of satisfaction, semi-contentment and renewed hopes sank without a trace! I took some painkillers and moped my way to the wet room, leaving the clothes where they had fell on the floor, and swearing a little still, got to the wet room, totally uninterested in what I was there for! Pissed-off would be a quicker way of putting things!

Had I been aware of what was waiting for me, I wouldn’t have gone in! The worse Ablution session in months!

Ablutionalisticalisationing Report:

  • I realised there was no hot water to be gleaned from the sink tap for shaving! But felt sure I would manage using the hottish water from the shower-head without any bother (What an idiot!)
  • Have you ever had to keep going to the other side of the wet room, and with Peripheral Pete shaking me about like a good un, repeatedly, bring the shower-head, which only just reaches the sink, and spraying the tepid water all over yourself and the room? It’s not easy! The cleaning up afterwards wasn’t either!
  • The de-nasalising went well. No water needed, you see! One dropsy only!
  • The teeth-cleaning had a bit of discomfort.
  • Then the shaving began. I had to keep emptying the sink of the water that went too cold, turning up the thermostat, and dial, to get as hot that I could from the control panel, but it wasn’t scorching enough, even then.
  • The whole shaving job was farcical in the extreme. Although having said that, there were only five dropsies! A few little nicks and one cut under the chin. One the throat, two in the neck-hole, and one on the cheek.

I got belated Health Checks done next. The Boot’s, made in China Sphygmomanometer’s SYS reading was fantastically low! Grrreat!

At least I think it is; hang on, I’ll check on Mr Google later on.

The in Hong Kong produced, Chinese Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer reading was, I think, a smidge high, but well down on yesterdays worrying high of 37.9°c – 100.22°f.

Since the side-effect-ridden AstraZeneca Covid-19 vaccination was given to me a week last Saturday, SYS has also been higher, its the lowest reading today than for ages. I think I might be getting confused here, between the SYS and the temperature? Well, fancy that!

I found an NHS site on Google, where you can put in your reading for SYS and DIA, and you get an instant show of where you stand on the chart, with a black cross! Proof that I was right to worry when the SYS went up to 180 five days ago, well, that was well in the red area!

Gotten Himmel! Look at the time! What happened, where did it go?

I’d better close down and get my pre-planned, easy, tasty (I was well wrong there!) meal prepared. I’m afraid the beautiful looking Iceland bought tin of tomatoes was terribly bland, tasteless, watery. Savourless and unappetising. These Don Holio chopped tomatoes needed a warning giving-out about them for anyone unlucky enough to buy any. The Sainsbury crispy smoked ready-cooked bacon slices were very fatty tasting as well! The last of the sourdough bread saved the meal. A flavour-rating of 4.5/10 was granted. Reluctantly to a degree! Eurgh!

However, and leaving the pots in the sink in cold water to be cleaned when I have some hot water again, in the morning, at first, I was well-pleased that I was in time to watch the channel 11, Tales of the Unexpected episodes.

I stayed awake until the first set of commercials, and Sweet Morpheus visited me, and off into the land of nod I floated.

And slept for four unbroken hours, which was so nice! Ahh!

Inchy with the Squinch. Saturday 6th February 2021 – Diary

TFZer Mary Out dining!

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Saturday 6th February 2021

Spanish: Sábado 6 de Febrero de 2021

01:00hrs: Woke, no wee-wee wanted? I was in a somewhat vague haze to start with, just went with the flow… sort of.

Up caught my balance, and off to the kitchenette, and made a brew of Glengettie tea. Then back into the main junk room with the mug, and got the computer on… but not for long, an urgent message from the innards sent in haste to the wet room and Porcelain Throne.

And what an odd session it was! I got settled, and the movement began at the slightest effort from me. It slid out painlessly, undemandingly, smoothly and pretty quickly, too! No signs of a struggle, and absolutely mess-free!

Add to this, that there was no bleeding whatsoever; and for a while, I thought I must still be laying on the uncomfortable, c1968 recliner, and dreaming that this was happening?  Amazing!

I got the updating all finished and posted the blog off. Sent the email link. Went on Facebooking catch-up. That cost me two hours, but I do love it so. But today, I have got to get a few templates done, I’ve none left to use!

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and the second call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and very urgent too! In fact, an embarrassing leakage arrived before I got settled down on the Throne. (Shame and self-loathing time!) The flow was stickier but still painless! Soon over, and left me with a filthy gooey mess to clean up on the floor, Throne and myself! This put me galvanically into Depression Defcon Two-level! Cleaning up again, took me yonks.

The Subconjunctival haemorrhage eye was stingy just a bit, no real pain as such.

I read and replied to some WP comments, got CorelDraw on to upload photos, and then made a strat on graphic creating, for the template making. This is going to be a mammoth job.

First things first, though, a wee-wee, washed and made a mug of Glengettie.

The view from the kitchen window had acquired a beautiful red tinge. So I took this picture of it. Not very good, but of course it was the Canon Camera being used.

I made the tea and used the Evolve Hypromellose eye drops, I had leftover from the last time the blood vessels burst. I struggled just like before to get the stuff into the eye, and lost a lot of it down my face. I wish the hospital people would have told me how to put them in, cause I can’t get the hang of it. I’ll recheck the eye later on, but now, back to the CorelDrawing.

Stretching to use the picker upperer to retrieve a dropped letter, I had a tumble and clouted my head and right shoulder. Henceforth things are using photographs as reminders and details remain sketchy until I seemed to come back as I was making a brew. The intercom flashed, it was the Iceland delivery, that I’d forgot all about coming.

Took the bags through to the kitchen, I do recall being aghast at the green potatoes in the large bog of potatoes delivered, and struggling to get the things the freezer as it meant bending down, which was currently very painful.

Feeling unwell, tired and only really want to go back to sleep?

I think I did some CorelDrawing, but not much is there as I type this, in the morning.

I stopped everything, to go and get the ablutions tackled. But was just not up to it, the head was spinning, the shoulder and head aching, and I just sat down to rest.

Not sure how long for, must have been a few hours or so. I constantly got up, checked lights, windows, faucets etc., I couldn’t get top sleep, and the Thought Storms were rampant, getting no rest at all.

When the door chimes rang out.

I struggled with surprising difficulty to the door, it was the postman, who immediately showed concern over how I looked and inquired if I was alright, “Would you like me to call you an ambulance?”

He delivered a letter and a parcel.

I think Sister Jane rang. All confused.

Just what I needed in the envelope, a multi questionnaire from Nottingham City Homes to be filled in. I’ve already got the two NHS ones, the monthly passing and BP one, and Covid-19 to fill in, and can’t face doing them how I feel, Humph! The box was the Amazon Dettol that the tracker tells me will be here Monday.

I left everything and sat down again, and stayed there for hours, getting up only for wee-weeing occasionally. Eventually nodding off.

I woke about 23:00hrs, feeling horrifically unwell, but not poorly-sick, really. I got some nosh made. Didn’t eat much of it.

Then got the computer on to finish this post, and let the mind stew as it was going to anyway.

Inchcock: Gloriouslly Inane – Saturday 5th December 2020

♥ TFZer Winner ♥

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Saturday 5th December 2020

Welsh: Dydd Sadwrn 5ed Rhagfyr 2020

02:20hrs: I stirred, dreary-eyed, and found in the folds of my tummy fat layers, a page from the notepad, and as I looked down, a pencil dropped from behind my earhole. The reading glasses were hanging on the very end of my nose and fell off to join some (I found as I began to move), biscuit crumbs as well. Nocturnal Nibbling Guilt!

The scrawl on the paper was hard to decipher. Bits I could make out were, ‘dreams put in the blog’ and ‘wee-weeing…’ But unfortunately memories of having the dreams I’d apparently had were lost into the ether. They must have been interesting, or I would not have made the regrettably unreadable comments on the pad. Shame!

I went through the routine of getting up, catching the balance easily enough this morning. Noticing that the ankle ulcer was clearing up so quickly (Not complaining). The papule underneath the left foot was still tender, even though it had grown back on the bottom of the foot.

I tended to the Health Checks first.

The Harpin Xian Di Thermometer gave a good reading of 36.7°c, a very fair, in the green range result. Then, I got the sphygmomanometerisationing machine out to use, wondering if it will take a few tries to get it to work today, and worked on the third effort: The SYS was still a little too high, but it’s been worse many a time.

As I took the medications, I thought I heard a noise coming from the hallway, I went to investigate. There was a letter on the floor at the door, but that must have been there from yesterday. No one would be posting letters at 03:25hrs of a morning, so that wasn’t the noise I heard. No signs of anything fallen was identified, so I returned, and got the medications taken.

Then I opened the letter. It was an eight paged A4 notification, from HMG (Her Majesties Government), Department of Health & Social Care. It consisted of the following: Guidance for the festive period – Shielding – Access to health & care – Important Information about Covid-19 – Access to Additional Support – Vitamin D supplements – Socialising -Care & Support – Tier 1, 2, and three rules to follow – Going to the shops and Pharmacy regulations. Whether or not I will live long enough to read and digest it all, is questionable.

But, Hatt Mancock’s… sorry, Matt Hancock’s end quote of “We will Continue To Support You in your efforts to keep yourself & others safe!” gave me a warm-glow of bile, that did.

I assume he may be talking about my not getting my prescriptions without a battle on the phone each month with the Chemist I must not visit, to get them delivered? Or being unable to get my toe-nails cut? Or the cancelled Oncologist – Cardiothoracic – Endocrinologist – Pulmonologist – Neurologist – Urologist and Audiologist cancellations?

Or maybe as is likely, he’s more working towards the next general election than actually bothered about us all. He feels a bit of creeping and ersatz care pretending now, belatedly shown will ensure the votes? Who knows? You can’t blame him! Hahaha! 

I remember the then New health secretary Matt Hancock receiving £32,000 in donations from the chairman of the think tank that wanted the NHS ‘abolished’! Matt Hancock received nine donations between £2,000 and £4,000 from the man who heads the board of the free-market group, the Institute of Economic Affairs.

I also remember him, defending his spending almost £50,000 on takeaways for his staff from just one London restaurant during the peak of the Covid crisis. The Department of Health and Social Care (DHSC) spent a total of £47,528 on takeaways from Bong Bong’s Manila Kanteen earlier this year, a Freedom of Information (FOI) request has revealed. Just nine orders costing £43,348 were placed at the fashionable “Filipino-inspired” eatery during April, then another £4,179-worth of orders placed in March! Just thought I’d mention it!

I got the updating of the Friday post done quickly. Sent it to WordPress. Did some Facebooking catch-up, then on the WordPress Reader section. Finally, got around to site comments.

Made the first mug of Glengettie tea of the day, and had a bag of Frazzles with it, well, no time for brekkers, I have to get on with making the templates up.

I took regular breaks over the.. wait for it… seven-hours I spent, getting the templates finished! The first being for some brekkers, of sorts. I had a pot noodle, and some nuts to nibble.

Back on the template slog.

Turned everything off computer-wise, to let it cool down, and got the ablutions done.

The ankle was looking much better now, but had still got the odd itching, with it? Feeling as if worms or maggots were underneath the skin?

The session went safely enough, dropsies of course, and just the one nick shaving.

The medicating went so easy as well!

I got the clothes all washed and sanitised afterwards and hung them on the dreaded, not used now if I can avoid it, doing so by not wearing any socks, Sock-Glide.

I must make an order for delivery soon, I’m low on disinfectants.

I got the unopened old but ere new when I bought them, trousers on. They were classed as brown, but only just. Hehe! 

They fitted perfectly. Well, what I mean is; The legs were far to narrow, my ever-growing, bulging, flabby-belly made it hard work to fasten the waistband clip, the pockets were too small, the cotton thread hung from the bottom of the legs, the belt buckle supplied with the trews broke. The bum fitted a little too snuggly. Other than that, they were fine. Oh, and the back pocket had a hole in it!

I hand-washed the old black trouser, all done, done, rung and hung above the sink to drip dry.

Back to the templating. I got the computer going again, and got a message telling me that the hard drive is running low in space. I’ve no idea where the message came from, Microsoft, Google or the computer. After a few moments of frowning and fretting – the message disappeared?

I took a breather, of sorts when it started to be a grind, rather than pleasure, in doing the CorelDrawing.

I made up the small waste bags, added them to the others in the box, and got them on the three-wheeler guide, and taken off to the waste-room and down the chute. As I got into the lift lobby, I used the Cannon (It’s far easier to use when on the move, cause it fits in the pocket, which the Nikon Bridge camera will not do, too big). The first one, the view as I entered the lobby straight ahead, the none along the length of the lift lobby, and one as I turned around and snapped the three flats lobby. Mine being the solitary single one on the right. It was eerily quiet out there! With no workers, no noise from Herbert, and even the blasted ‘Hum’ seemed quieter to me?

I got the bags down, in the process gaining a pretty deep blue bruise on the knuckles as I trapped the hand as the lid shot back closed.

Back to the apartment, and took these shots of the darkening day from the gallery.

Back to the templating again. I worked through uninterrupted for a few more hours. Got the templates finally finished and began thinking of what to have for my nosh. As I nosied around to see what was available, favouring doing the meatballs and potato shapes, to help clear the freezer, then I can free Jenny’s space up and fetch the meatballs she has kindly stored in her freezer for me.

Then it hit me, the usual late weariness, lack of concentration and feeling of being oh, so tired and worn out.

I decided against doing the meatballs, in case I fell asleep with them being in the oven for much longer. I got the potato shapes out of the freezer, and dropped the damned bag, catching it before it hit the floor, but a few of the shapes fell out. I noticed as I picked them up that the letters spelt ‘Thick’. (A link there somewhere?)  – Ah, clairvoyant potatoes? Hahaha!

The sky was changing as I farted-about making a right mess in preparing the cooking. Nicolas’ Neurotransmitter had been so kind all day. Still, it now was causing some dangerous situation with the oven and saucepan, like. I took a photo and another close-up of the picturesque peeping pink evening view.

Getting the pasties and potatoes out of the fridge, I caught my right arm on the oven. Puggleclumpdimwit! Ah, well!

I got the fodder l plated, and was amazed at the fact that I’d just made this meal! I was so, out-of-it, and drained? I must have engaged auto-pilot—a taste-rating of 7/10.

Too was tried to bother doing the washing up, and I required Sweet Morpheus.

But the Thought-Storms destroyed my hopes. Spurgledamnations!

Inchcock – Nottingham’s Ace Accifauxparist: Fri 4 Dec 20

♥ The TFZer Shepherdess, with some of her flock ♥

Friday 4th December 2020

Afrikaans: Vrydag 4 Desember 2020

00:35hrs: I woke in need of a wee-wee, I’ve missed this the last two mornings. At least I know I didn’t miss taking the Furosemide®.

I  hopped (hopped? Hahaha!) out of the recliner, went through the balance-gaining exercise, (something else I do regularly each morning, since the last time when I didn’t, and fell back down in the chair, causing Harold’s Haemorrhoids to bleed painfully, and set off BPB [Back-Pain-Brenda]) I recall the pain. Tsk! Over to the overnight bucket, and saw it had not been used. So instead of doing more cleaning, I hobbled to the wet room for the wee-wee—a disappointing affair, of the UTD (Unwilling-Trickling-Dribbling) variety.

I got the computer on, almost determined to get on with making up up some graphics on CorelDraw for the TFZer page top pictures. But first, I must update the Thursday blog and cracked-on with it, no Health Checks or mugs of tea, I persevered with the job!  Not a long job, there was not much to catch up with. I sent it off to WordPress, Emailed the link, did some Facebook catching up, and went on the WordPress reader.

Then made a brew, cursed the dank rainy weather, and had another UTD wee-wee. Then industriously, onto CorelDraw and got all of the TFZer graphics done that I needed! Smugness Adopted! Mind you, it took me over three hours of concentrated attention to detail. I can’t brag too much, I’ve not checked them out yet for mistakes.

I had to put a stop to this dedicated, determined attitude, to respond to a call to the Porcelain Throne. Fearing this visit being as bad as yesterdays, I went apprehensively to the wet room. Constipation Konrad beat the hell out of Trotsky Terence again, but by less, I’d say a 2-0 victory. Which meant a little less pain for yours truly, but it was still bad. No bleeding, though, that was a plus! Haemorrhoid Harold didn’t suffer so much, thankfully! I noticed that ankle ulcer was looking good, no pain whatsoever, fading now, and no itching. A risk of Semi-Contentment developing here!

Time was flashing by, and the Ablutions will need doing soon. I spent some time making up some Thought graphics, then back off to the wet room for a scrub-up.

: Well, and it did go well! Worryingly, unnaturally so!

As I stripped off, I could not help but take these pictures on the right here. The legs, ankle ulcer, and feet, all looked much improved.

The left-hand papule that appeared yesterday, had gone down to the titchiest little spot, the puss-head was not to be seen today?

The teeth cleaning was a painless and bloodless affair. (2-dropsies)

The shaving had only one wee-cut. (3-dropsies)

The showering had a few dodgy moments. The first of the dropsies, the shower gel bottle, landed right on the leg ulcer – and it didn’t even hurt! A full bottle as well! (This good luck can’t last, surely?)

Then Dizzy Dennis visited, but I’d left the shower chair handy, so had a sit-down, and within a minute or so, was back up showering away to my little heart’s content!

A total of only 2 dropsies in the shower! Yes! But, getting out of the shower, I’d left the chair to close and had forgotten about it. Klunk! I banged the right ankle on the chair leg! Ah-well!

The medicationing went brilliantly! No accifauxpas, bleeding or knock-overs! Yee-Haa!

As I put the trousers on, the bashed ulcer had become so tender and ultra itchy, and looked a tad inflamed? I think new growths were coming up around the ulcer and nearby?

It was the devil’s of a job not to scratch at it! Gringglebogs!

I got the handwashing, just a towel, done wrung and hung to dry above the sink.

The trouser legs were catching on the now tender leg ulcer, so pulled up the trews leg out of the way – but it was so cold now. Brrr!

The workmen’s tapping, knocking and drilling started, and carried on, and on, and on… Still, it can’t be helped. Dangnableisations! Hehe!

I took a photo through the balcony window, it was still raining, glum, and a disheartening sight. With it being so cold in the flat as well, anyone would think it was winter.

Oh, it is innit!

I got the much belated Health Checking done. Started with the body temperature with the contactless thingamabob.

That was looking well-healthy at 36.6°c. No complaints there then.

The sphygmomanometerisationing showed a higher than for a while SYS of 176. Maybe it’s because I took so much later than I usually do?

I took the morning medications, as well.

The ankle ulcer had stopped being tender, and I could now drop my trouser leg. Giggle! I took the last photo of it, and it had been seeping a bit, but it left a lot better, easier, calmer, now.

The drilling and knocking noises are getting irritating. But needs must. I’ve got a rare headache coming on. Hey-ho!

Back to the computer to update this blog, so I can get back to CorelDrawing. But it’s getting late now, but the graphics will have to be done, or I’ll be in a right pickle in the morning. I did some IT updating and then went for a brew. The view outside, showed some sleet or snow trying to come down with the rain, so I got the Nikon camera and went out on the balcony to take some shots – through the glass, too cold and wet to open any windows.

Then I bravely and foolishly (had I known what was about to happen, I would never have gone in the kitchen, but of course. who knows what fate holds for us, Hahaha!) I decided to take a picture from the unwanted, disliked, light and view-blocking kitchen window, to try and catch the sleet and snow in the photograph…

Gragglespitgurgle! Bungdankles! Splerminescence! Flagtoggles!
 

As I went to open the most hated and unluckiest, bedevilled, cursed, kitchen window in the world;

Peripheral Neuropathy Pete produced a right leg Schuhplattler Dance/Wobble about session, that had me on the deck before I knew the flailing dance was coming! I lay there, in a semi-crumpled heap of stomach-dominated mass, for a minute or so, awaiting the dancing limb to stop, feeling and sensing for any injuries.

Unglefrogwonglingisations!

I’d grabbed out for support, the walking stick was the first thing that abandoned me. And caught the washing hanging on the curtain rail, that joined the clothes in falling off to the floor, knocking the tea mug, picker-upperer and all the other clothes in another load on the floor!

I was shocked and annoyed a bit. But soon weighed up what could be done to get back on my feet. I decided to crawl on all fours, to the recliner in the other room. (Which pleased Arthur Itis’s knees I can tell yer!) that’s strong enough to take me heaving my weight back up, I’ve used it a few time in the past. I managed to get myself up, surprisingly easy as it happens?

Bother from BPB, Haemorrhoid Harold, clouted on the elbow and head, and the ankle must have hit something, it was now bleeding a smidge. I cleaned up the ulcer area and ointmentated it. Nae, bother! I had the struggle to get the leg up so I could tend to it, and almost went over again getting the leg down! You’ve got to laugh!

I was moving a bit stiffly with the back hurting, I just took my time. I got the ‘fallen clothes’ (Haha!) on the hooks in the hallway. Not much room left to get through now—Hell of a mess to clean up.

As I said; You’ve got to laugh!

Despite the Whoopsiedangles and Accifauxpas, I was more than ever determined to get some photo’s of the snow, but I noticed it was stopping, so I had a go with the Nikon.

I took a Codeine 60g, a Dioctyl® poo-softener, and a Paracetamol 30g, so the discomfort should soon be easing off. Although BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) feels as she’ll be set-in for a while. I’ll still the other painkillers later with the evening medications.

I was genuinely angry when it first happened. But it soon faded. As Doctor said when Peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed, ‘There is nothing we can do to repair dying nerve ends’, So, fair enuf!

I pretended to clean the kitchen a bit, and thought sod-it! I got on with updating this blog, while happenings were clear in my head.

The landline burst forth. It was the beautiful, desirable, so sweet, caring Hristina, my beloved Phlebotomy vampire nurse. Kindly advising me that she is calling for my blood on Monday, twixt 08:00 > 10:00hrs. Bless her. Well, that made me feel better straight away! ♥

It’s so late now with all the faffing about I’ve suffered. I really need to get at least one template made up… Hello, Anne Gyna’s kicking into Hurt-Inchcock mode now! Cringleblastitt!

I went back to CorelDraw to if I was up to making the template. Oh, dear! I got one made, and then started to prep the meal.

I made more mess in the kitchen making the nosh, feel guilty, but am not up to doing any more cleaning or physical labour… I have enough problems staying awake to eat the fodder.

The old Thought-Storms began when I got to settle, so sleep was a time coming.

Inchcock – Nottinghams Highest EQ – Lowest IQ – Thursday 3rd December 2020

TFZer Meal-Makers on TV?

Thursday 3rd December 2020

Welsh: Dydd Iau 3ydd Rhagfyr 2020

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00:25hrs: I stirred back into imitation life, and the ailments already having a bash at me, the moment I moved any connected limbs, were; SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Haemorrhoid Harold, and Duodenal Donald, with a few mild interruptions by wandering all over the front torso, Anne Gyna. But this is not unusual.

The astonishing thing was the frame of mind I was in. I felt almost contented and ready for anything that came along? Naturally, this is not going to last long, but still, a great, if a rare, situation, that I will do my best to enjoy!

No calls to the Porcelain Throne or Wee-wee bucket either! I rose, caught my balance, and meandered into the kitchen. No desire for a mug of tea (now I was getting a smidge confused and a semblance of weariness developed). Oh, dearie me! My bestirring semi-contented feeling was diminishing already.

I checked the hanging above the sink hand-washing and moved the jammie bottoms onto the upright clothes dryer. All this time, I was… I don’t know how to describe it, erm, like I was not me, or someone had hacked into my brain? No wee, no pooing, no mug of tea, Arthur Itis and Cartilage Cathy has never been kinder to me than they were this morning? Caught my balance without the exercising first! And not a single Dizzy Dennis visit yet! Conrad Confusion was being tested, here! As was what semblance of sanity I have!

With a determination I’ve not possessed for months, I grabbed a bottle of spring water, and made for the computer, to upload last nights photographs, and start the updating of the Wednesday IT diary.

I’m certainly not claiming that I was efficient, or methodical in my efforts, as I began to work on CorelDraw to get the photographs resized. But my regular hesitancy, indecision and dilly-dallying were far less than they would usually be. I wish I could work-out why? 

The task of getting the photographs prepped took me less than an hour. Never been known to be so fast in years!

Then I realised that the Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were only rarely dying on me, and when they did, it was only for a few seconds at a time. I was baffled at this. But well happy with the situation! And pressed on as quickly as I could to take advantage!

I got the pictures done and into the WordPress gallery ready to use. Then started to update the Wednesday blog… and had to stop, damned shame this, just when I was getting something done, to go to the Porcelain Throne utilisationing.

I got to the wet room in plenty of time, not that it mattered. For Constipation Konrad repeated his Wednesday victory over Trotsky Terence, but by a bigger margin! At least 6-0! As I sat there, toying with the crossword book, and daring not try to force things along, and waiting for the innards to evacuate at their own pace – I soon realised that this was not going to happen. I don’t know why I put ‘soon’ there? It must have been a good fifteen minutes, and three new answers found for the crossword puzzle before I had no option, other than to grin and bear the pain (it was worst in weeks). And I urged the action to start. A few silent Argh! Eeks! and a couple of minutes later, the evacuation started, agonisingly slow, full pressure had to be applied on my behalf. In the midst of the protracted torture, I swore to take two of the Dioctyl® poo-softeners as soon as I could after this agonising session had finished. Which turned out was not to be, for a good few more minutes yet!

Harolds Haemorrhoids were going through hell, I could feel the blood, with it being warmer, hitting the body parts as it flowed. The torpedo even needed a final extra urging to finish the motion… at last! Well, that put the final nail in my feeling optimisticness!

I changed into a disheartened, forlorn mode. The cleaning up was not too bad, with the evacuated product being rock-hard. Even the cistern somehow managed to clear it away first flush!

But it had left me feeling so sore! I washed the rear-end and put the bloodied paper towels and sealed in the bin. The medicating of poor old Harold’s department, even using the Germoloid Ointment, was the most excruciating I’ve known for years!

I changed into one of the older Morrison bought white PPs (that fitted). Memories of pre-Coronavirus days flowed. The time before Morrisons and Sainsbury’s started sending the most farcical substitutes, you know, like AA batteries in place of a can opener, Medium Protection Pants instead of XL, and McCains foul-tasting black pepper fries in place of Sweet potato battered fritters!

But, these things happen, so I wasn’t bothered, and I took it casually in my stride. No cursing, planning getting my revenge or anything like that. Oh, no! Gesundheit!

A demoralised Inchcock, with a very sore bottom, returned to his computer. Back in his regular, normal, nervous, twitchy, haphazard, grumpy, fed-up, wee’d-off, desultory, and laissez-faire, defeatist, frame-of-mind. Feeling so sorry for himself, too! 

But, my being a well-educated, dedicated, sharp-witted, positive, capable, and ultra-determined character, I pressed on and got the updating finished, not giving a care to the ailments, back-luck or having just dropped my mobile, and it isn’t working now. Sob, Grubbleackers and Grrr! (No confidence Scenario emerging)

I decided to make a brew of Glengettie. (it will not help, but it’ll be tasty!) And poddled off to the kitchen to get the kettle on. The sky was getting a smidge lighter, so I got the Nikon and took a couple of photos.

A lot of the Christmas lights had been turned off for the night. I can’t blame anyone, they may encourage the attentions of burglars, distraction con-men, and local yobbery, who have been more active in Sherwood lately. I got these figures from the local Email Mag: Monthly Crime figures for little Sherwood, June 193 – July 196 – August 199 – September 211- Not good!

The knocking and banging from the workers have started off, started work early today, bless ’em. I made a start on this post…

When I opened the Notebook app to get the information stored, it came up empty? What? Had I done something wrong, or what? Had it been hacked? It had some important numbers and passwords in it? Oh, dearie me, I’m feeling even worse now! Really fed-up! Granglespithowlations!

I got the ablutions done! Which went better than I expected. It’s all up and downs today? The usual dropsies and a few shaving nicks. The showering went as good as it has in months, no knocks, dizzies, toe-stubbing or loss of balance. Smooth! The medicationing had its moments, but nowt excessive. The legs and feet looked good to me. The wee-wees had dried up as well. The skin is as normal, looking a smidge deathly pale again.

I did find a photo on the SD card later, that was a mystery to me. I’m not sure I meant to take it, or why if I did. Hehehe! But you never know, with the state of my memory and incertitude? Is that the right word? I’ll check. Yes, that’s the one.

I had to laugh when I was using the long shoe-horn to get the slippers on. Somehow or other, I’d got the horn stuck in the outer part of the faux-leather of the footwear, and it stuck there, needing extracting. But it was so funny, I got the smaller Canon camera and managed to take a shot of it with the left hand, without any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplops. Smug-Mode-Adopted!

I hand-washed the blue zip-up jerkin. All done, wrung and hung above the sink to eventually drip dry, I hope.

Then I moved the jammie bottoms on the fairer ti aid in drying them enough to wear. Judging by how damp they still were, I anticipate them being dried somewhere around next April. Haha!

I then spotted two burglar alarm activating in the rain-sodden Cavendish Vale. I tried a few times to get a photo that showed the alarm lights, but I failed in my efforts.

Then I made up two more small waste bags and put them in the box on the three-wheeled walker. And I added a biggish couple of bag with recyclables materials in them, to it on the handlebars.

I had a panicky moment and a kerfuffle finding the key fob to take with me so I can get back into the flats. Then, as I thought all was ready to take the trolley down to the bins, (It’s collection day today), I couldn’t find my long-distance spectacles! After a hunt around, I found them in plain view on the TV stand. The worrying thing, is how I missed them so many times in my searching?

I departed the flat, hoping to meet someone en route to the waste bins for a natter. I met a worker in the 2th-floor lift lobby, said hello, but he couldn’t understand English, So I gave him a smile, which was a bit silly-billy of me, cause I had the mask on! Hahaha!

No one was using the elevators at that moment, so I was soon down on the ground floor. Got the little Cannon camera out and took this photo of the ground floor lobby.

Then hobbled to the and through the main lobby and out in the wet rain, to the bins awaiting collection. I took the photo of the electronic notice board on the way to the lobby.

Where I met the caretakers and got involved in the nattering session with them… well, that’s not strictly true. I did the talking, that bored them into a rolling-eyes mode within 30 seconds. I’m good at doing that, and with effort either!

I returned to Woodthorpe Court flats, took another picture of the being updated hallways and lobby, and got up in the lift to the 12th-floor.

Getting out of the cage, I had my first wobbly of the day, (I’d done well up to now though!) and caught my shoulder through my weak spatial awareness, on the side of the lift. Which set of BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Humph!

Naturally, this didn’t bother me in the least. (Much!)

The worker’s equipment was in the lift lobby. I got back into the flat, and I got the kettle on, post-haste! And made a brew of glorious Glengettie.

I worked on this post for about four hours, and the back and right shoulder from hitting the lift side, was pretty bothersome, and the computing had to be stopped. At that moment, the landline rang forth. It was a recorded message; “Your internet connection will be disconnected in 24hrs – We have detected a hacking on your computer. Contact BT on… That’s as far I let the machine ramble on! I rang off, it must be a con of some sort being played on me.

I got opened a can of Chilli-Con-Carne into a saucepan, added some made-up vegetable gravy, and a drop of Hickory, and sliced some tomatoes to go in the mix, with just a sprinkle of  Balsamic vinegar. Got the oven warming to do some chips in.

I took the evening medications, making sure I took another Dioctyl® poop-softener, I don’t want to go through the same agony as this morning again.

The eyes were drooping, the back hurting. As often happens, I was feeling smidge rough around the edges. I quickly got the latest local Coronavirus figures.

Then got the nosh sorted and served up.

As tired as I was, the nosh, eaten slowly, well masticated and savoured, got a taste-rating of 8.8/10. I must write down the extras I put in this Chill-Con-Carne.

I got the pots washed, and settled down early for once, in search of sleep. Which arrived pretty quickly, and lasted unbroken for three hours, before I woke up with a start, in desperate need of a wee-wee!