Inchcock's Day: Thursday 1st April 2021

 Good Morning

Thursday 1st April 2021

Hawaiian: Pōʻahā 1 ʻApelila 2021

02:55hrs: Woke, wrestled out of the recliner, had a wee-wee, washed, and wandered to the kitchen to get the kettle on.

The summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and things felt pressured from inside the innards. Off to the wet room and settled down, having a go at the crossword book while waiting for the motion to move. 

It was a long session of puzzling; the insides seemed reluctant to begin any actioning? Mind you, I didn't get any solutions.

I got the computer going. Liberty-Global Virgin internet was so slow again. If it's not this, it'll be Blogger playing up, or memory problems...

Whoopsiedangleplop: When thing did eventually flow, ooh, desire me, it was agony. Constipation Konrad had even more control than yesterdays session! A nice change in the resulting single dollop, though. Less than the usual torpedo - more of the thick misshaped, almost black rugby ball! Decorated with tiny streaks of red that were blood-based. Not Good that!

However, the silver lining was that Harold's Haemorrhoids were not bleeding, not even properly sore. Which, considering they had just been squashed by the dirty-great passing black lunar-module-like evacuating product, I found confusing! Also, the one flush cleared everything!

A good wash and clean up. Made a brew of 99 tea and got the Health Checks done. The SYS was high, the DIA same as yesterday, and contributed to a terribly high BP result?

If I get the time and remember, I'll retake the checks later on.

I updated the Blogger and sent it off. Emailed the links. Took the morning medications and went onto the old un-blogged on anymore, WordPress Reader. Then next, on Facebooking updating. 

Argh!

Then, I had to return for a second visitation to the Porcelain Throne! A slightly different session this one was. As I sat down, I swear I could hear the World Wide annoying hum from inside the wet room, with the door closed shut! An almost unreal happening! Indeed it can't have been that I could hear? Possibly, it may have been some motor noises from the rooftop? Or not...

I got distracted again there and went off of the subject, sorry!

It took me a while for the movement to start, and when it did, it was all over in a short, painful time. The single giant rugby-ball and turned into two largish golf-ball shaped evacuations. Gawd, they didn't half sting on their way out!

Whoopsiedangleplop: Things were back to the messy, gooey mode again. A lot of cleaning needed, and poor old Harold's Haemorrhoids were bleeding awfully easily! After sanitising things, the Germoloid ointment and Dettol was applied to the gentle teeth-gritting sounds of an Oooh, and Argh! Yes, it was the most hurtful evacuation in months! I went into an 'Expect-The-Worst-Mode' and prayed that no more Throne visits would be arriving today! At least not as bad as this session was. Still, you never know... well, I don't!

I returned, feeling all weak for some reason, to the computer and made a graphic to use for tomorrow's blog header.

It took me a long time because someone had posted some moving photos on Facebook, and they had set off Saccades Sandra. My vision was terrible, and Dizzy Dennis activated.

Some mail had been delivered. The first one an election card, well, a Poll card. It was to vote in the 'Election of the Police and Crime Commissioner for Nottinghamshire Police Area. But they had moved the polling station way up the hill, onto Mapperley Top. Not many will be eager to get up there to vote, even if we wanted to, and I would have liked to, mind. Humph! Give Labour's Paddy Tipping my vote. It's on Thursday 6th May, this year.

A letter from Nottingham City Homes, telling me of the rent. The third was more waffle about changes to the 'Those at High-Risk lockdown rulings.

I gave up, checked the slipper delivery on Amazon (Out for delivery 10:00hrs), and went to get the ablutions seen too. With a feeling that Saccades and Dennis could make things difficult, teeth cleaning, shaving and showering. I took the camera near the door in case any cuts, falls, or injuries would be worth recording. Off I trotted to the wet room, cautiously!

Things went well to start well...

Apart from Neuropathy, Pete's leg giving me an involuntary soft-shoe shuffle in the shower, and the usual load of dropsies, only one throat cut suffered shaving! Cathy's Cartilage cracking while I was undressing, which had left me a semi-rearranged patella, and in constant pain since?

The thing worthy of mentioning, I think, is some new growths coming up and a couple bleeding from under the skin? Sone on the head, and some on the ankle? I guess I'm erupting. Hahaha! Got dried, medicated and dresses, made my way to the tiny kitchenette, checked on the crock-pot, and got a massive load of hand-washing done! Hehehe!

The pot reminded me of a witches cauldron. Haha! I wonder if I might be up to making some Kitchen Nightmares... maybe not! 

The partly misty view from the kitchen window tempted me to get a decent photograph of the morning scene. I decided to use the Kodak camera this time. After consulting the dials, baffling options, and getting a headache trying my best to make some sense of them, I just put it back on auto. Tsk!

Possible Inchcock Lie Here: Undauntingly, I tackled the massive task of getting the hand-washing all done, wrung, refreshed, rinsed and hung above the sink on a rail to drip-dry. Hehehe! I went a little avant-garde with the flavouring of the sliced King Edward potatoes I'd put in the slow cooker. I got carried away with my gastronomical seasoning ideas of cuisine. After all, it was only potatoes I was cooking. Still, I added beef granules, sea salt and some roasted paprika to it! I must admit, when it got heated, it looked somewhat threatening, reminding.

All the same, although nowhere near cooked yet, I tried a bit of some sliced King Edward spud. And I was over-the-moon with the smell and flavour of the seasonings. I made a note of what I'd put in, just if it is acceptable when I get around to eating it. I'm confusing myself here. What am I on about?

As I got up to go and check on the nosh in the crock-pot, a cracking-loud crack came crunchingly from Cathy Cartilage! Agony followed! 

The door chimes rang out. It was the delivery of the pre-squashed footwear I'd ordered, arriving. I had a look and carried on with the meal prepping.

I was delighted with the potato stew results that I'd made, well worth the effort and time. I'd added some chestnuts with the leeks, peas,  sliced spuds, and a can of chilli soup. Flavour rating: 9/10!

Whoopsidangleplop: I washed up and got my head down. But the Thoughts Storms attacked from nowhere, and getting to sleep became an impossibility - Cracklenagclomp! The last time I checked, it was about midnight, with no signs of drifting off. The brain and mind were almost making rattling noises! A none-stop flood of unwanted, tormenting memories, fears, embarrassments, worries, with more than a few moments of self-hating thrown in. Humph! 

Evening, all!