SMILES FOR A MONDAY

 

 

You remember that your favorite show comes on at 7 PM so you hurry home, fix your dinner and sit down to relax, only to learn there’s an extended news bulletin instead.

 

Have you ever really pinched yourself to see if you were awake.

 

Does anybody know of a bakery that delivers? I’m tired of ordering pizza just so I can order the brownie for dessert.

 

Have you ever seen someone fall and noticed the first thing they did was look to see who was watching? Or, maybe you were the one that fell. As you get older the first thing you might think about if you fall is:  Is there somebody to help me up?  Or … are you the one watching.

 

Want to know what’s a real pet peeve for a blind person? You follow all the crazy links on facebook to find a video you really want to know  about. Finally you hit all the links and you’re there but … the video has no words.

 

Do you remember the Lone Ranger? There are two things that I have always wondered about:  One is why he wears a mask and two is where does he get money to buy those silver bullets.

 

Have you ever been by yourself when you really laughed out loud about something you saw, read or heard? Wouldn’t it be cool if a room full of people who laughed like that would be recorded and played instead of that mechanical laughter you hear on TV, or am I the only one who feels that laughing is so artificial? Yet I wonder if a sitcom would even exist without it.

 

Then there are what we call the soaps? Have you ever turned one on after not watching it for more than ten  years and found out that some characters had been replaced but the plot hadn’t.

 

If you are over the age of fifty you may have noticed … you’re cleaning a sink and suddenly the words:  “Once in every week Drain-O in every drain,” pop in your memory from a long-ago commercial, or maybe Tony the Tiger says “They’re great!” every time you pass Frosted Flakes in the grocery store.

 

Have you ever noticed that something you may have done in the past was not fun, but the memory of having done it later brings a happy memory to your heart? … like shelling peas with grandma who is no longer there, or walking to school in the snow?

 

Is it still Monday?

 

 

 

You remember that your favorite show comes on at 7 PM so you hurry home, fix your dinner and sit down to relax, only to learn there’s an extended news bulletin instead.

 

Have you ever really pinched yourself to see if you were awake.

 

Does anybody know of a bakery that delivers? I’m tired of ordering pizza just so I can order the brownie for dessert.

 

Have you ever seen someone fall and noticed the first thing they did was look to see who was watching? Or, maybe you were the one that fell. As you get older the first thing you might think about if you fall is:  Is there somebody to help me up?  Or … are you the one watching.

 

Want to know what’s a real pet peeve for a blind person? You follow all the crazy links on facebook to find a video you really want to know  about. Finally you hit all the links and you’re there but … the video has no words.

 

Do you remember the Lone Ranger? There are two things that I have always wondered about:  One is why he wears a mask and two is where does he get money to buy those silver bullets.

 

Have you ever been by yourself when you really laughed out loud about something you saw, read or heard? Wouldn’t it be cool if a room full of people who laughed like that would be recorded and played instead of that mechanical laughter you hear on TV, or am I the only one who feels that laughing is so artificial? Yet I wonder if a sitcom would even exist without it.

 

Then there are what we call the soaps? Have you ever turned one on after not watching it for more than ten  years and found out that some characters had been replaced but the plot hadn’t.

 

If you are over the age of fifty you may have noticed … you’re cleaning a sink and suddenly the words:  “Once in every week Drain-O in every drain,” pop in your memory from a long-ago commercial, or maybe Tony the Tiger says “They’re great!” every time you pass Frosted Flakes in the grocery store.

 

Have you ever noticed that something you may have done in the past was not fun, but the memory of having done it later brings a happy memory to your heart? … like shelling peas with grandma who is no longer there, or walking to school in the snow?

 

Is it still Monday?

 

I DID IT AGAIN!

I did it again

 

 

For my New Year’s resolution this year I have been working and praying hard that I would stop giving people blunt and unkind answers. In spite of everything, it seems I do this more than ever. Immediately I catch myself after it is done, but I need to catch myself before it is done.

 

This morning a knock on my door aroused me from my computer. I am expecting company and was disappointed when a man stood on my front porch instead. “You know who is your present area representative,” he asked, evidently handing me a card as he spoke. My first response was “What?” He pushed the card into my hand as he said “You can read it here on this card.” 

 

I said:  “Sir, I can’t read the card but I know who my representative is.

 

He said:  Does someone take you to vote?”

 

I answered:  “No worries, I do always vote.”

 

Poor guy at a loss for words said “Well you put this where somebody can read it for you so you can remember to vote and who to vote for.”

 

To which I bluntly answered:  “OH, I’m just blind, not dumb.”

 

Here I think I am writing a blog to help sighted people understand blindness and for us to yield to mistakes people make and help them understand. A man just left my door probably terribly embarrassed who may avoid blind people forever. Why didn’t I ask something intelligent like:  “Are you my representative?” Sometimes I really act dumb. So, all you sighted folks, give us more than one chance to prove we really are nice people … most of the time.

 

 

 

 

GOING FORWARD

Just last week I mentioned some of those blind people who reach what seems like impossible feats. Today I attended a program where the speaker was Lex Gillette, a Paralympian who is blind. Someone asked him what was his longest jump, and I lost my breath when he said 22.9 feet and his hope was to reach 24 feet.

www.nbcolympics.com/video/lex-gillette-how-long-jump-while-blindCached

 

Just yesterday I met a lady in her fifties who is still alive after several brain surgeries for four large brain aneurysms and two strokes, who has just recently parked her car forever and is learning how to use an iPhone as a blind person. I decided to play my last blog for her just to try to make her realize so many people have their hands out to help her and encourage her as she encourages others, kind of like those people in Texas this week. She immediately stopped crying and picked up her phone.

 

Then I thought about myself and relived my tiny pathetic victory on Friday. It was a perfect walking day, partly cloudy, my favorite lighting for walking. I needed to go to the drug store for a prescription, but all I could think of was that one precarious street I would have to cross. I called a friend hoping she was going out and I could tag along. She was already gone. Finally, after about an hour of self talk I harnessed Vivi and started on my walk, less than a mile to get there. The distance was not the problem, the street loomed large in my mind. I guess if I were Lex Gillette I could just take a running start and jump the thing. Vivi and I began our walk in our usual speed until suddenly I realized I was short of breath, gasping a bit, heart racing and sweat beads on my forehead. My legs felt weak and even my shoulders felt tight and my brain felt stupid because it realized this was a full-blown panic attack. I turned around to go home but Vivi was stubborn and sat down on the sidewalk like she planned to have a sit-in. So I took a very deep breath, said a very urgent prayer and headed for Wall Greens. Amazingly, once we got to the street the fear went away. I remembered all the times I had sat in a cab waiting almost 5 minutes to turn onto that street so I knew I had a very long time to cross and unless someone ran the light we would be fine. What had I been afraid of anyway? Then I remembered, I still had to walk back home.

After getting the prescription and the pneumonia shot I had been putting off for two years my friend called to ask if I still needed a ride. I couldn’t believe I told her no. Somehow I hoped she would show up anyway, but she took me at my word so off we went. This time I was confident as we began crossing the street knowing that Vivi would stop on a dime should someone turn right on red in front of us. No one did, but just as we got in the middle of the 6-lane crossing a horn began a sustaining blowing as some young men started whistling and barking trying to distract Vivi. This has happened before and is a cruel thing for people to do, yet it happens. Vivi did not become distracted one bit, partly because she knows better, and partly because she hopes to get a small kibble once we get to the other side at that particular spot. She got one.

 

Now I could write a pretty long blurb about today when they were repaving my street and I needed to get away. Vivi and I walked on the grass, going behind the mailboxes. Just as we got behind them both the garbage trucks and the recycle trucks stopped and all I could hear was motors and glass falling into trucks one bin after another. I was on unfamiliar territory so couldn’t turn around and didn’t know exactly where those trucks were if I went forward. That is when you realize why you got a guidedog.

 

Tomorrow I think I may just take a break and stay home and play my full 88-key keyboard that a friend gave me about a month ago. She just couldn’t seem to stand the fact that I did not have a keyboard and she was not happy until I finally agreed to accept her more than generous gift. With so much happening this summer I had really not planned to ever play music again. Then, just like the lady picked up her iPhone yesterday, and just like Lex Gillette being willing to use his gift to jump almost 23 feet, I can hardly wait to drown myself in music … tomorrow. Maybe I can write a song about small and large victories and the good that still lives inside people in our world.

 

 

 

 

 

STILL LEARNING AFTER ALL THESE YEARS

STILL LEARNING AFTER ALL THESE YEARS

 

 

I have lived as a partially sighted person all my life, have been around totally blind people throughout my life, and have even met people who became blind in adulthood. Just imagine if at some point in your day your vision was to disappear totally without warning, or you had been diagnosed with an eye condition which would surely end in blindness. I know, you can’t possibly imagine such a thing and can’t even pretend to think of it, yet it does happen occasionally to some very fine people such as yourselves, and here’s a newsflash:  The government isn’t standing by to hand you a check and whisper in your ear that everything will be all right. 

Since working with a very few individuals who were unfortunate enough to have this happen in their adult lives, I am finding myself challenged by their enthusiasm and determination to pick up the pieces and keep going.

Often you see portrayed on TV a blind person such as this, who has accomplished major breakthroughs and seemingly impossible feats. I know some of those people and indeed they are ones who challenge me because they can leave me standing still while they go on to accomplish things that never even occurred to my mind. I salute them as they pass.

Then there are those folks who become totally dependent on others because it’s just too hard. This week I met one in the doctor’s office, yet it was not the blind person so much that melted my heart as it was the extreme patience of the lady who was willing to be his helper. Had I met him earlier in my life somehow I can see myself moving over to sit beside him and give him information about places to call for help, and I still would have asked him if he knew about the Library for the Blind if I would have had the chance. Once when I was a teenager Mom and I were shopping in Lexington and there was a blind man on the corner banging on a tin cup as he announced to the world that he was blind and needed money. Mama would not let me go down the street toward that man because she knew I was ready to grab his cup and tell everybody to stop giving him money because there were things he could do besides begging.

We once had a man in Raleigh who would walk by himself into a restaurant, stop at the door with his cane in-hand and announce “Can anybody please help me;” I’m blind.” Well, obviously they could tell that he was blind, but since losing more of my vision now I can certainly understand how he probably felt at times. I mean, I have actually walked from the sunshine into a restaurant and could see absolutely nothing in the darkened atmosphere. People don’t immediately rush up to help and you don’t always know if it’s because they’re occupied with something or is there anybody there anyway.

 Now, one of the saddest things I have run into lately are those people who have lost their vision as prominent middle-aged individuals, who do not know Braille and because of medical conditions may not be able to learn it because of their diminished sense of touch. They never learned to type. They find themselves illiterate, which makes it harder to learn new things. At first I almost saw those people the way I know some people have seen me … in a pitiful sort of way. All my life the scripture where Jesus says that if a blind man leads a blind man they both fall into the ditch has given me pause to frown, until now, and that’s because I realize that at times it probably takes a blind man to pull another blind man out of that ditch. So for all you blind people who have gone into teaching, rehab, social work, or the many occupations and organizations that help other blind people find their way, I hope you know how special you are.

We all come in contact with different situations as we live and as changes keep occurring we find ourselves trying to learn as we go. But just for a moment or two, try closing your eyes and think of a task you need to do, excluding driving of course.  It just may be that a blind person might need to show you how to complete that task.  

In this world of technology, blind people could be left in the dust, lock themselves behind closed doors and turn into couch potatoes, if not for that special technology out there that talks. Even though there is not such a thing as an app that makes someone see, there are apps that can tell blind people things they need to know, such as tell what color you have on, describe a picture, read printed materials, tell you where you are, read a book, type a document, call your friends, do calculations, read emails, make calls, schedule meetings, and on and on and on. Even though this is not a commercial for Apple or Google or the many companies that do such things for the blind, it really is like a blind person taking hold of a digital hand.

However, it is not the digital hand that will lead the circumstances of lost vision into their new existence but it’s the human hand that reaches out with help, not pity, that serves to lead us all forward, no matter what the conditions in our lives may be.

 

 

STILL LEARNING AFTER ALL THESE YEARS

ONE BLIND DAY

Occasionally in life there comes along one day in which things happen or things people have said gang up in your brain and pour down the rain. This is that day for me. Even though I try to make my blog optimistic and have answers for most of the problems that can surround a blind individual, at times the brain just is not willing to “see” that optimism.

This day started out with my canceling a cab ride because I realized they had sent a vehicle that could not get close enough to the door to pick me up. “Surely there are other doors,” you say, and you’d be right. However, a sighted person would not be willing one bit to walk the distance in this large building to the next available exit.

Then I sent an email to a city manager of a city that has no transportation available unless you drive a car. This has been an on-going rub in my life as my mom lives in that town and for years my family and friends have driven the one hundred miles so I could see her occasionally. She’s just about ninety-seven now and I’m just about seventy-four, one day away anyway for me. Though I can never express enough appreciation for those who have driven me those hundred miles, who have never complained, and even acted like they enjoyed it, there’s this yearning in my heart to be independent enough to at least be able to touch down in my own childhood hometown. I can’t afford a private plane, so here I sit while Mom moves into a care facility, and I’m helpless to be able to reach her. When I was a child my parents drove a hundred miles to the NC State School for the Blind, where they dropped me off, knowing that they were not permitted to reach me very often as well. So the tables have turned and perhaps I know just a little bit of what my parents must have felt in those days.

So, Monday morning, let’s clean. Let’s start with the ceiling fan someone told me was dirty. Do I like to be told when I need to clean things? Sort of, but I’m only five feet tall and when I climbed on the stepping stool ladder (which I shouldn’t be climbing on in the first place) I found I couldn’t reach the fan even from the top. Next time I’ll ask that person who was tall enough to see the dirt to do it.

Another someone told me there were spider webs around my chandelier, and suggested I ask someone to knock them down for me. I asked three different people who said they definitely would be willing to do that … when they had a chance … six months ago.

The right thing for me to do with this is let it go, and I am sure there’s a lesson here I’m supposed to learn about that. However, I’m going to climb back on that stool, dust mop and cleaning cloth in hand, and fight with those spiders.

As I sit here staring at the other projects I have begun, I must wonder … is there not some better way to hang a shower curtain after you’ve washed it other than those little stupid rings? Maybe they’ve changed in the last several years and I just don’t know?

So this is just one of those days when, instead of shrugging things off and remembering how truly blessed I am, I eat almost a quart of butter pecan ice-cream. Now do I feel better? Yes, as a matter of fact I do. No matter the problems, I live in the land of milk and honey … and butter pecan ice-cream.

 

 

 

 

 

FOUR-DAY DIARY

 

One morning I thought how secure it would make me feel to just sit down and let the world go by. My knee wouldn’t hurt, my ankle wouldn’t hurt with a shoe over the top where it has been broken twice, no painful plantar fasciitis as I walk. I wouldn’t need to worry about traffic, falling up or down steps, knowing people were staring to watch my dog work, myself speaking to someone who was on their phone, or doing something weird like wearing Christmas tree earrings for Easter, which I unknowingly did this year.

Aside from all that, how do you train a helper in the store not to keep handing you dresses and/or anything else you don’t like instead of taking you to your size and disappearing until you call them or end up at the register.

It would be cool to walk to the side of a pool knowing those already in the water were not holding their breath. Frankly sometimes I’m holding my breath too just in case they are right and I plunge right on in.

Yes, I could just be a little old grandma sitting on my front porch with my dog staring at the neighborhood. Don’t feel bad, I do that quite often, and especially with coffee and I enjoy very much being the little old grandma on the front porch.

This particular morning Vivi and I had our front porch solitude in the middle of the active neighborhood. She had her usual walk and I let her stop for just a few sniffs along the way.

So far this week the following incidences have occurred:

ON Monday The lady at the Dress Barn told me I needed a 2X in that blouse instead of just a large. I am glad she was not around when I found out she was correct. It was just the way the thing was made, right?

Fashion aside, I ordered lunch at Chick-fil-A and asked the lady to please help me find a table. That worked fine until the lady figured I couldn’t open my lunch boxes either.

Tuesday I went to the gym and as Vivi and I started toward the door to leave two young people were exercising on the carpet close to the machine I had just vacated. Vivi stopped and gave them a thorough licking since she figured they were in her territory.

Wednesday I went back to the mall to return the blouse.

I went into the shoe store and told Vivi to find a chair. She did and I sat down on a lady’s purse. My fault; I forgot to examine the chair first.

We passed some very young children while walking in the mall and one of them put a piece of candy in Vivi’s mouth. Before I could think I grabbed Vivi and stuck my hand in her mouth, then threw the candy across the mall.

 

And then?

While at the mall I went to the Hallmark Store and a lady offered to read the cards I needed for me. She laughed as much as I did as she read the funny ones.

I went into Pay Less shoe store just looking for some water shoes. That time the young lady and I were enjoying finding cute shoes in a size 3, laughing about the piece of candy when she accidentally knocked down an entire row of shoes from top to bottom. We were both laughing as I tried to help her pick them up and was putting red ones and green ones in the same box. I did find some cheap water shoes which work great, and at least my feet don’t need a 2X.

As I ate my lunch someone from my church from years back sat down and we had a nice visit.

 

It’s Still this week … Thursday.  I went to a gym for the first time. The lady was concerned about me going into the swimming pool, and frankly it being the first time so was I. However, Vivi laid down beside the pool right where I told her too and never moved until I came back to the place I left her. It was a great experience for both the lady, Kay, and me.

 

Now, why have I written this TLDR blog? If you don’t know what TLDR means just ask Siri. In summary, this blog means that experiencing the best things in life outweighs all the seemingly inconvenient ones. My ankle and knee don’t seem to hurt when I’m laughing. Seeing Vivi working at a mall or on a walk makes people smile. Someone wanting to open a box for a blind lady makes them feel like they have done something for someone else. Having a dog that knows what “find a chair” means is a super dog. Throwing candy across the mall turned out to be a teaching moment for a little one who will probably never stick something in a dog’s mouth again. Watching a dog lie quietly for 45 minutes while her owner swims inspired a doubting lady who couldn’t stop praising her.

 

I am grandma. I love my rocking chair, but even more I love life and maybe I just helped someone open their lunch box.

 

 

SERIOUSLY SERIOUS

 

If you wonder why I write a blog, it is for several reasons:

1. I love to write.
2. It is my hope that even though I love to write that what I put out there has some meaning to someone besides myself.
3. Someone said recently to me that “those who can’t …  blog,” a catch-all phrase used for many other endeavors as well. Most times my blog gets behind because I’m writing something else, yet I feel a purpose in blogging to help in some small way to further unite the blind and sighted communities.
4. I do enjoy reading comments from other people, although most of what I write is merely my own experiences and most of my opinions play out in my life’s circumstances.

 

Now, the only reason I put all that up there is to preface my blog this week and to ask that well-meaning people and/or pastors refrain from sending me theological comradery or correction, although prayers are certainly always welcome and appreciated.

 

Now, here we go.

 

It was a few years ago when my friend, Winnie, was with me at the mall and we got off the elevator. Two young men walked up to us and asked ME if they could please pray for me. I said: “Sure.”  I was a little bit uneasy about how Winnie might feel, but went ahead with the plan. I was sweetly blessed by someone caring enough to want to do something. It blessed me even more when Winnie said: “That was really special.” I can’t say this has happened to me an extreme number of times, unless you think that at least fifty is extreme … people in malls, while walking my dog, in churches and meetings,in homes, and once on a bus. The most recent time was Saturday at the Cracker Barrel in Mebane, NC. My friend, Dorsey, and I had been to visit Mom and had just finished our meal when a child walked up to me with someone I presumed to be her dad. I did not know if it was a boy or girl, black or white, or how many people there were. The child first asked me if I knew Jesus, and we got into a very sweet Christian conversation, occasionally with her theme being prompted by the male, perhaps a pastor; I don’t know. One thing the man said was “I told her she could do it this time,” letting me know that the child was a little girl, I’m thinking maybe eight years old. She asked if I believed Jesus could heal my eyes and after I said “yes,” she proceeded to ask if she could pray for me. All I know is the little child’s sweet and innocent hands were laid on top of my head as she prayed from her heart and I forgot I was sitting at a table in public. All I know is that when her prayer was done and I blinked my eyes, still not able to see her, it made me very sad. For a long time I worried about her faith. Now, I already know mine sometimes isn’t even as big as that mustard seed Jesus talks about, but it bothered me for quite a while about hers being shaken because a dramatic healing didn’t take place right then and there at the Cracker Barrel. It almost made me very sad, as we started back toward Raleigh, but then a hail storm surrounded our car and other cars on the highway and seemed to follow us all the way to Raleigh, so I forgot all about the incident for a while.

 

 This week I have found myself thinking of those sweet little hands and that precious child’s believing heart. It’s so important  what we say to other people, especially children,  and all I can do is believe God had his own purpose in that meeting. For a hundred times I have thought:  “I should have said,” knowing that if I should have said anything God would have put the words in my head then, not several days later.

 

As a teenager and young wife when people asked if they could pray for me I usually answered:  “No, I’m fine.” Eventually I added a “thank you” to my response. I could see much better then, not perfect but certainly better. It’s interesting to me how through the years of life my heart has grown into a place of more tolerance of those kinds of events and my “thank you” has become more genuine. Who knows, one of these days I might even open my eyes and see that even a messy house is beautiful. My daddy’s mom who I called Mammaw had cataract surgery in her old age. It was funny when she began telling all of us how fat we were.

 

To me the most important thing is that I am content in my circumstance and if it should cause anyone to suddenly be thankful they can see maybe that’s someone I should be praying for. In the meantime, today is the first day of spring and it’s beauty is surely as real inside my heart as it is everywhere. Let’s all enjoy it together wherever we are and whatever the circumstance or task at hand might be around us. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TBT DREAMING BACKWARD

TBT   dreaming Backward

 

Once you are past your twenties, or sixties, can you ever recapture some of that feeling you had as a teen … on a really good day? One of the easiest ways I know to do it is through music.

 

I was twenty-two when the Beach Boys sang “When I Grow up to be a Man.” Some of the girls at the Y.W.C.A. and I laid on the roof in the summer sun, lathered with baby oil and Coppertone. I have since paid for all that fun in the sun with several basal cell cancers, but that day with the radio blasting and the DJ reminding us constantly “to turn so you won’t burn,” truly growing up was the last thing on our minds. We all had dates and we all enjoyed that feeling of looking in the mirror feeling like beauty queens, knowing our clothes fit well, our smiles were golden and we were flying in our heads to Cinderella’s ball. As I showered, singing “When I Grow UP to be a Man,” to the top of my lungs, it never occurred to me that four of my friends were listening until I reached to grab my towel and cold water balloons flew at me as though they had minds of their own. 

 

“We don’t think so, Myra,” they sang to me while they squealed and ran, probably wondering what crazy stunt I might think of to get back at them.

 

But I had no time for pranks just then because I was going to live out a dream. A special friend had asked me if I were able to see perfectly, what would be the first thing I wanted to do. Silly 22-year-old said: “I’d find a light blue Thunderbird convertible and drive it so fast the wind couldn’t even catch me.” Often I dreamed this dream, driving with the top down and feeling my hair fly toward the sky and me seeing the whole world at one time.

 

I will never know where he found a light blue Thunderbird, and I will never forget the gesture he made toward trying to make my dream happen, even though he refused to let me drive it totally by myself.   …

 

And the Beach Boys still sing into that memory, this time “Fun, Fun, Fun.”

 

So people move away and lives change, and it’s all a little crazy now, yet I smile into those songs and watch the flowers go by, and take a little time to pick just one to put in the bouquet of the dreams of my memory.

 

 

 

 

MUST BE SOMETHING IN THE WATER

 

 

 

First I apologize for my inattentiveness to the blog these past few months. Somehow it seems that days can be so ordinary that there’s not anything happening worth writing about, or else I’ve been concentrating on future books.

 

Friday night I watched “the Miracle Worker” for about the fiftieth time. I don’t really get into the movie until the end, and yet I watch the entire movie in order to participate fully in the passion of the emotional discovery, when Helen Keller learns her first word, “water.” It’s so hard to understand fully the joy that must have run through her emotions, yet she then had to learn all her words in Braille and became an excellent speaker and writer. With things like that going on in our world surely none of our days should be “just” ordinary. There are so many more ways to teach deaf/blind people now with all the knowledge and technology out there, yet how special it is to watch them be able to communicate.

 

In the past few weeks I have been teaching blind people the iPhone and/or iPad. I figured they’d just pick it up in a day or two and off they’d go. How difficult it is to remember the hours I spent learning, earning, learning, and still find myself asking more questions as new upgrades come along. Yet one day a girl stood up and clapped her hands and laughed when she realized that in her small hands she held an open door to do some things she had never thought possible. Frankly I’m not a good teacher; you can’t teach one of these devices in ten hours. I think it took me ten hours to figure out how to get my iPhone on wifi back in 2008.

 

And then I think of that word “water.” How significant one word can be. In my book “Changing Places” I wrote a segment about my first drink of water from a fountain instead of our country pumps and wells. As that water gurgled down the drain I knew that the things I was used to doing in the country would be changed forever. My mind almost felt it in a tangible way just as Helen Keller knew the tangible things that she touched had meaning in her mind.

 

No day is ordinary. Today I suffer with a horrid virus, a very painful sty, and it hurts to cough. Next week I’ll be blogging again, but right now I am going to bed once I hook up my iPhone and get my last bottle of WATER.

 

 

THOUGHTS

 

It seems that books, speeches and such are made up of constructive well-developed thoughts, while often my blogs are stream of consciousness nonsense. I surely hope they never come up with a mind-reading machine because my mind would probably blow it up. So, for the past five days while being forced to stay inside because of the winter weather I decided to try to remember what I thought most about every day.

 

Friday:  “DO they really think it’s going to snow six inches?”  “They are way too sure of themselves; I’ll believe it when I see it.” “Glad I don’t have to run to the store for milk, bread or eggs.” “There’s the rain.” “I’d better see if I can find something on Netflix because all these people on TV can talk about is the weather.”

 

Saturday:  “Where’s the snow?” “My back door is frozen shut.” I took Vivi out and I walked around to the back door to see if I could push it open. Vivi stood on the front porch looking at the white mixed bag of precipitation and daring me to make her put her feet, much less her bottom,  on that cold ground. My neighbor in the town home next to me came out and cleaned off his porch, steps and sidewalk. My spirit fell when I realized he was not going to step about ten steps over and clean mine. I settled down for a long winter’s nap but decided to get acquainted with my new Apple TV, a special gift from some special friends over the holidays. This caused me to smile and not care that I was housebound and would not get out my front door for days to come. I watched “The Sound of Music” for about the fiftieth time and for the fiftieth time wondered if it was going to end right.

 

Sunday:  I watched the live message from my church and got upset with myself for having been so grumpy. I made a pot of vegetable soup and watched “the Sound of Music” for the fifty-first time and wondered for the fifty-first time if it was going to end right.

 

Monday:  “Vacuum, here I come.” Left-over veggie soup for lunch. “Bathrooms, get ready for the smell of cleaners because here I come.” Grilled cheese for dinner. “Well, the bathrooms and vacuuming can wait until tomorrow.” Turned on the Apple TV and there was no picture on the movie I was going to watch. I called the AppleCare accessibility line and the guy could not understand how I could see there was no picture on the TV but could see the apple when the TV came on. Me either, but as I was playing around while he was trying to figure it out the picture came on. After the movie I watched an old rerun of “The Dick Van Dyke Show” which I have seen at least fifty times. It was still funny.

 

Tuesday: “I thought it was going to be 40 degrees today. There’s nothing dripping like melting snow outside.” “Bathrooms, here I come,” and I did. “Vacuum you may as well wait until tomorrow because it’s going to be nothing but muddy outside if it ever gets up to 40 degrees.” Late in the afternoon I went down my front steps standing up for the first time since Friday.

 

Bored yet? I know if my cousin from Chicago reads this he’ll think I’m a total idiot for thinking six inches is anything to gripe about. He’d be right. But actually what is such a phenomenon over these five days is not what I thought about at all, but what I didn’t think about … blindness.

 

And this blog ends up being another one of my reasons for starting it in the first place, to show how a blind person lives in a sighted world. Blindness never crossed my mind but twice, once when my neighbor didn’t clear my sidewalk and when I called the AppleCare accessibility line. It’s always a blessed day when we can forget that we may have some limitations, and of course these thoughts if strung together would be less than a minute of my time. So many wasted thoughts, yet when you use them to see something worthwhile they can become constructive after all … at least as long as BlogSpot hasn’t changed their formatting page again.