Inchcocks Day - Tuesday, 23rd March 2021

 

More TFZers go for University Challenge! ♥

Tuesday, 23rd March 2021 01:30hrs: When I woke, the mind was in disarray, and I  lay, distorted in the recliner for a while, gathering and sorting the thoughts storming through my grey-cells. Which was rudely interrupted, with the need of a wee-wee, then, seconds later, it was joined by the desperate need of the Porcelain Throne. I struggled out of the chair, caught my balance, grabbed Metal Micky, and was soon off to the wetroom. Nearly tripping myself up, as I got the stick mangled between the legs somehow or other, en route. Foul language silently flowed!

More tears would have been in order when the realisation that Trotsky Terence had returned to dominance in the DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle).

It took me yonks after the gooey, sticky, gluey, fetid, foul-smelling, dark-brown and red coloured dollop of the evacuated product was got rid of. And the darned tank and cistern had to be refilled a couple of times.

Possible Inckcock fib coming-up: But of course, this did not bother me! Got washed up, made a mug of Thompsons Punjana, and tended to the Health Checks.

And what a mixed bag of results today. The body temperature was almost perfect (I think) at 36.5°c - 97.7°f. The SYS down to 154. The DIA even further down, to 62, and even the Pulse had dropped to 81bpm. Good?

I updated the records in Excel. The blood pressure was still in the High section, but not by so much today, and that was something, Yee-Haa!  

As I took the medications, I could clearly hear odd noises from the flat above. It not like Herbert to make noises like this or so early in the morning. I wondered (I'm doing a lot that nowadays, Hehe!) if Herbert had snuffed it or moved elsewhere and someone else was in the flat now? The noises carried on until around 06:00hrs, on and off. I hope whoever it is up there are okay. If indeed it is coming from there, as George Gershwin wrote; ♫ It ain't necessarily so...♫ The clunking, tapping noises were unidentifiable.

03:15hrs: As I got the updating done to Mondays Inchcocks Day, I thought I could hear some clunks and clinking noises from above, but they only lasted about thirty seconds or so? A mystery this is! Then again, life is a mystery to me! I'm genuinely puzzled? (Which as Tom Jones sang; ♫It ain't unusual...♫ Hahaha!

An email came in from the Iceland Store. I was exceptionally pleased that they had not done the substitutionalisationing on me!

I had a wee-wee, made a mug of Glengettie tea, and drank it while computerising. Then decided to get the last of the cucumber in the fridge and make up another jar of the pickled cucumber, using other additions this time. Hopefully, it won't be as lethal, sharp, potent, tonsil-testing as the first recipe I used was. (Cough, splutter!) 

I used the malt pickling vinegar this time, not the distilled. I added a drop of white wine and balsamic vinegar, not a lot! Demerara sugar, and iodised salt. I got the lid back on, and no matter how long or hard I shook the jar, I couldn't get the sugar to dissolve. I wonder why? As you can see in the above-right photo, it was not a bloodless pickling session. Hahaha! 

Time was running away with me, and I needed to get the ablutions done within an hour to not miss the unexpected early arrival of Iceland food delivery. 

I found a leak had taken place since my last visit earlier, but I had so many bottles hidden around the WC, it was hard to see which one it was from! After checking each one, I could not find the culprit? 

Of course, the escaped liquid had no scent coming from it to assist in my investigation and diagnosis of the situation. I was baffled completely (which is not exactly an unknown thing to happen). It may be coming from the pipework on the cistern bowl or sink? 

Is the blame to be blamed on the hands of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghost, succubuses, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, or the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? Maybe! 

The clock sped on, it was getting shorter, not desperate yet, but I decided not to lose more time searching for a solution as to the cause.

Then, Accifauxpas time, once more! 

The need of the Porcelain Throne arose! And an even stinkier, gooey evacuation than earlier was suffered! Time was getting shorter. As I got cleaning up again... 

I went to get a shave and do the teggies, and a wanton involuntary right leg Neuropathy Pete right leg Schuhplattler dance erupted! I lost my balance and went down, knocking the things off the lid and floor cabinet en route to the floor! 

Eventually, I got things sorted and medicated. Oddly, the tiny cut I had on the neck from shaving was the worst problem I'd accrued. (But later, I realised I was so wrong, Cartilage Cathy was the most painful and persistent)

The Iceland man arrived early and conveniently left the carriers in the doorway for me.

I sorted out the delivery, and I found that Iceland had lied to (Nothing new in that, I don't know I mentioned it!) me in the earlier Email when they told me of the three items being unavailable. But they were substitutable! The apple pies for apple and blackcurrant ones - the 150g mushrooms with 240g ones, and the two Galaxy small easter eggs @ £3 each, was altered for one large Galaxy £6 one! Possible Inckcock fib coming-up: But it didn't bother me in the least. (It did!) 

I got the things stored away and readied the waste bags to take to the chute.

Then Accifauxpa Time Again! Another blunder!

As I struggled to get the trolley and box out of the door and over the raised bit, and the box fell off of the stand and made one heck of a noise! A few moments of embarrassment and shame later, I proceeded to the lift lobby and down to the chute room. 

Then Accifauxpa Time Again! Inside the waste room, I had an Accifauxpa with a difference! Instead of trapping my fingers or hitting the trolley with my legs, I got my arm stuck in the chute! Quality cock-ups Guaranteed daily here; Hahaha! 

I got back to the apartment; it sounds plushier than saying, back to the three-roomed council flat for the aged. Hehehe!

I got the mushrooms in the crock-pot. Got to get the giant-sized packet substituted by Iceland after informing me they had none in stock, and then they sent the large ones as opp[osed to the small ones ordered and over double the weight of those asked for. 

I added just some squid sauce. Possible Inckcock fib coming-up: But it didn't bother me in the slightest!

I had a look to see if any early morning delivery slots were available for Sainsbury's. Well, I got one for a weeks time. To arrive on Tuesday 30th March 2021, twixt 06:30>07:30hrs, cost £4.50 delivery charge. Bless them!

I had not had an email or call from Sister Jane, so I gave her a call about how she went on yesterday with her GONIOSYNECHIALYSIS (Chronic Angle-closure Glaucoma) eye treatment. Grrreat news! It went so much easier than she had expected. She got a call from Xyrophobia suffering hubby Pete. So, I rang off. Pete was out shopping again at Morrisons, so a question of food is more important. I understand that! I rang off so she could instruct Pete on which product to by. Hahaha! 

I then gave desk-top dancer, ILC, and Warden Deana a ring. To beg her to ring the foot lady for me, to see if she can fit me in some time for the feet to be looked at and toenails cut. Deana said she'd find out an ring me back later.  

Much work was done on CorelDraw, but only one graphic done. It was a complicated one for the Troll Free Zone.

The weariness dawned, so I got the nosh sorted, hopefully timing it to watch Tales of the Unexpected on the goggle box before head-down time.

Mini-Dagwood bread thin sarnies with pork & tomatoes. Salt and vinegar crisps, garden peas, mushrooms, apple and some pickled vinegar! The cucumber was pickled better this time, sharp, but not too much so! A flavour rating overall of 7/10 given.

Settled down and drifted off post-haste into the welcome land of nod.

A minute later, the mobile rang, out of the chair and answered it, it was Warden Deana, to tell me of the results of her investigation into the foot ladies appointment. She had given a slot for 16:00hrs on 4th April, or 14:00hrs, for the 16th April. As bad as the feet were, going out so late for me, (16:00hrs) for the earlier appointment was out of the question, it would throw out my educational regime, and do me no good losing even more sleep. I asked her to try and book the second slot and thanked her for her help. She said she will pop-in tomorrow to see me. (Not late, I hope?) 

I scribbled some notes for the calendar for tomorrow and back down into the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickeningly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner.

Zzzz!