Happy Hanukkah
Merry Christmas
Lyle and I send you all our very best wishes for the Holiday Season.
There is a winter scene picture with this post. The snow covered trees look very pretty with the blue sky in the background. However, I must hasten to add that on the day we took the picture, the temperature was minus 29.4 degrees Celsius.
snow covered trees!
I think that I can safely say that trudging through thick snow isn’t easy for anyone, but it is especially difficult for people with little or no sight. I don’t have much depth perception and so find it almost impossible to tell the variations of the height or valleys in snowdrifts. It is difficult enough walking on uneven surfaces when the ground is bare but snow is randomly inconsistent in texture. My boot might sink to ankle depth in mushy softness or I might stub my toe against a hard piece of ice. It all looks the same to me and even my white cane isn’t much help in such circumstances.
The other challenge with winter snow is that the path in front of me takes on a particular sameness. Without the snow in the other seasons of the year, I can rely on the contrast of, for instance, the black asphalt of a walking path and the border of green grass. Because I do have limited sight, I can see enough to fairly easily follow this shoreline. It is also easier to detect the difference in the ground surface with my cane. After a snowfall, the path ahead is merely a white blanket with no defining edges.
So that is my “woe is me” story for the day. I will now try to put on my Pollyanna face and look for the glad stories of winter. I like going to the outdoor rink to watch our granddaughter on her skates. I’m glad that we live in an area where there are opportunities for cross country skiing. I’m glad that I have enough sight to appreciate the outdoor coloured lights of the Christmas season. I’m glad that technology enables us to have zoom visits with our family in Winnipeg and when we can coordinate time zones, even with our family in Australia. In spite of my white cane and white snow challenges, there is much for which I can be thankful.
Helen Keller was both deaf and blind, and being unable to hear her own voice, had only a partial grasp of speech. In spite of living in this cocoon of silence and darkness, Helen was highly intelligent, amazingly well read and politically active. She was a bit of a contrast in that although she relied heavily on the financial support of several benefactors, she despised capitalism and was a self admitted socialist. She communicated mostly through brail and by having words spelled out to her on her hand.
Some years ago I spoke to a support group for people who were either profoundly deaf or visually challenged or both. It was just a tiny glimpse into their world of astounding challenges. The group was arranged in a specific seating pattern for my presentation. I did have a signing interpreter by my side as I spoke but I was encouraged not to speak too quickly. One young man sat immediately in front of me and concentrated on lip reading. Another member of the group sat beside a care giver who typed my words in large print onto a computer screen. Still another woman listened to my speech as her carer spelled the words onto her hand...a sort of finger Braille in the same way that Helen Keller communicated.
Over the years I have spoken at many support group meetings but that afternoon stands apart. The young man who rose to thank me for coming signed his message. I could read the emotion in his face as he spoke of the hard journey his life had taken. I left the meeting feeling both exhausted and humbled...exhausted from the effort of concentrating to communicate and humbled by the fortitude and determination of the people I met.
As I am reading about Helen Keller, I wonder at her own courage in facing a life of personal adversity. Keller was a national icon and also well known in international circles. The manner in which she lived her life is an inspiration for us all.
We thoroughly enjoyed our holiday in Scotland in spite of the rain. I remember our tour of Loch Ness as taking place on an especially dreary day. It was easy to imagine the possibility of a monster lurking in the depths but I doubt that I would have been able to capture a picture had Nessie actually appeared. Our camera was safely nestled inside a waterproof pack. Still the air was invigorating and the history and folklore prattled on by the guide was fascinating.
On a different day we caught the bus to the battlefields of Culloden. The sun had emerged for the afternoon although the air was still a bit cool. We did the self-guided walk around the fields, reading the plaques and trying to visualize this horrific day in Scottish history. It was pleasant without the rain but the breeze was brisk. At the end of the day we spent a good half hour or so standing at the side of the road waiting for the local bus. The timetable pasted on the post at the bus stop was obviously a work of fiction.
I loved Inverness and our accommodation there, which was very aptly named Riverside Apartments. We spent hours wandering around the streets, over the castle grounds and along trails by the river. However it was the day of our departure that really stands out in memory.
The rain began in earnest overnight and by morning the train lines back to Edinburgh were flooded. The trains were cancelled until further notice. After a couple of hours of uncertainty at the rail station, we were informed that buses would be coming instead. By the time that the first two buses arrived, a crowd of three or four hundred passengers with accompanying luggage had assembled at the station. The rush to board this very limited transportation was a bit of a comedy. At least that is what it was in retrospect. At the time it was sheer frustration. Lyle and I were fortunate enough to board the second bus and I have no idea what happened to everyone else who was left waiting.
From the bus we transferred at Perth to the train again. When we pulled into Waverley Station at Edinburgh the rain had increased to a torrential downpour. By the time we walked the mile or so distance to our accommodation we were soaked to the skin...and I mean that literally. There were no taxis available. I abandoned the use of my cane and held onto Lyle’s sleeve as we tried to dodge puddles and sprays of water and of course all the brollies that Scots seemed to carry with them as a matter of course. By the time we reached our flat, even the contents of our suitcase were soaked through.
I hope all this doesn’t sound as if I am complaining...far from it! The day has given us an interesting travel story to recall and sometimes recount to friends. I hope that eventually the poor folk in BC who are currently battling the floods and weather extremes there will eventually be able to recount their plight in a similar fashion. The weather in western Canada has certainly changed in a hurry.
That is where I will leave it with you. I now have less than 100 miles to the finish line of my virtual UK walk. Time to start thinking of my next goal!
There is one picture with this post. It is of the castle beside Loch Ness looking very forbidding on a dull and dreary day.
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| Sue at castle beside Loch Ness |
This week leading up to November 11, Lyle and I walked past the front lawn of one of the town’s seniors centers. Outside on the front lawn, the staff had placed about thirty or so red painted wooden poppies. What a meaningful display! I have included a photo of the poppies with this post. I am standing in the midst of this artificial garden and the Canadian flag is flying in the background.
Sue with poppies
There are some eye conditions where loss of night vision is the first sign that something is wrong. Retinitis pigmentosa is one of these conditions. My friend, Norma, said that she has always had poor night vision. As a child, she simply thought that it was the way that everyone could see in the dark. A few years ago, another friend told me that while he could see moderately well in daylight, at night his sight virtually disappeared. Both Norma and George have retinitis pigmentosa and at this stage of their lives, both have no vision at all.
I have a glimmer of understanding of what
it means to be blind in the night. I don’t have RP, but my eyes take a very
long time to adjust to differences in light. If I emerge from a dark room to
one that is brightly lit, I find that I am squinting and see only vaguely
through semi closed eyelids. Conversely, if I come from bright light into a
dark space, I see almost nothing.
There are some situations where this is
very noticeable. For instance, when I come from normal lighting and enter a
dimly lit restaurant, it is as if the lights were completely turned off. The
pupils of my eyes don’t adjust and I see next to nothing. I am indeed blind in
the dark.
Another place where night blindness is an
issue is at the optometrist office. Have you ever noticed how poorly lit those
offices are? I remember one of my first visits to an ophthalmologist. I sat in
the waiting area feeling like a bit of a fraud. What was I doing here? I could
see. However, when I was shown to the examining room, the lights were seriously
dimmed and I couldn’t find my way to the chair. I knew then that I had a
problem.
Unfortunately, there is often little to be
done about night blindness. My eye condition has no cure and to date there is
no cure for retinitis pigmentosa. However, night blindness is a symptom and
sometimes a precursor of several debilitating eye conditions, some of which
might be stalled or surgically corrected. Being blind in the night is a good
reason to make an appointment with an
eye specialist. If you are experiencing night blindness, don’t put this appointment off.
Instead of White Cane Practice, I possibly should have titled this post White Cane OUT of Practice. Over the past eighteen plus months, Lyle and I haven’t really gone anywhere, and so I haven’t been using my white cane much either. Instead, when I have walked the familiar river trail in our local area, I have often used a pair of walking sticks. The sticks are just like the poles used for cross country skiing. The sticks are good for arm exercise and balance. Also, when my sticks hit the dirt at the edge of the asphalt, I know that I have ventured off the trail itself.
The downside is that being blue the sticks don’t alert anyone else to my vision issues. This is when I need a white cane – not just to alert other walkers on the trail but also to give myself a heads up if there are obstacles in my path.
I was reminded of all this last week when Lyle had an appointment in the city and I decided to go along for the ride. When we arrived in the parking lot, and as it was some distance from the office building, I had half thought that I might use my walking sticks. However, I had only taken a few steps away from the car when I realized the error of my ways. What had I been thinking! The walk in the city was definitely not my familiar trail by the river.
The parking lot had those cement blocks separating parking spots. On the street, there were fire hydrants and sloping driveways. The sidewalk was also obstructed by little decorative trees and the latest horror for someone with limited sight – electric bikes or scooters parked at random intervals and not necessarily pushed off the sidewalk. I always have my cane with me in the vehicle, and boy was I glad that I had it with me that day!
So now I had had an instant refresher course in white cane use. The experience has reminded me that I should continue to practice using my white cane. I am looking forward to the time when I will once again be able to travel beyond my own familiar area and for that I will need the use of my cane. Hopefully, next time I write of this, the title, White Cane Practice will be a legitimate subject line.
October 15 - Spaghetti and Meat Sauce
One of our favorite “go to” meals while Lyle and I are travelling is spaghetti and meat sauce. It is a relatively simple meal and the ingredients seem to be fairly easy to come by wherever we happen to be. Together we have cooked this particular meal in various spots around the globe – Stuttgart in Germany, Nice in France, Inverness in Scotland, Darwin in Australia, Reykjavik in Iceland, Sorrento in Italy, and so on. I smile as I remember the different kitchenettes in all these places. Some have just provided hot plates, such as the ambulance style RV we rented in New Zealand, and other have had combined stoves and ovens that have been far beyond my sight capabilities.
Last week at home, Lyle and I cooked up a batch of spaghetti and meat sauce. No biggie, you might say. Actually, for me it is always a biggie. It has to do with frying the meat first. I simply don’t see when it is done. This is why I say that it was the two of us doing the cooking. I nearly always call on Lyle to check the doneness of the meat.
When I think back, I know that Lyle and I have made a number of accommodations in the kitchen. For instance, I like to prepare meals that I can time in a casserole dish in the oven. I also like to use a slow cooker. Lyle and I both like the taste of barbeque meat and it usually falls to Lyle to stand outside at the barbeque and to me to prepare the vegetables. Learning from another friend who is totally without sight, I have found that I can tell when a potato or a carrot is peeled by running my fingers over the outside. The original skin is usually rough to the touch while the peeled vegetable is smooth.
I am fortunate in that Lyle is willing to accommodate my visual challenges. I have also learned that for me to be successful in the kitchen I should take my time. Even with simple meals like spaghetti and meat sauce this is important. I do remember the surprise on our granddaughter’s face when, in a rush, I broke the spaghetti over the boiling water only to miss the saucepan altogether. Most of the pieces landed on the floor, but some managed to get between the rings of the burners. It was another lesson learned!
For someone with partial or no sight, the kitchen can be a dangerous place – cuts, burns, spills, etc. even when the meal is simply spaghetti and meat sauce.
Still, here we are again! At least this year the adults are all vaccinated. We will continue to be cautious and to look for responsible ways to celebrate Thanksgiving 2021.
My best wishes to all of you for a happy, safe and healthy Thanksgiving weekend.
Finally! At last I have crossed the Scottish border on my virtual walk in the United Kingdom. Back in February, I remember being quite excited as I began this walk at Land’s End on the Cornwall coast. These days I am dragging my feet a little as the real walking time seems to go on...and on...and on!
The walk itself is 1,083 miles or 1,805 kilometers. To date I have covered 75% of that distance and have just a tad over 300 miles to go. When we checked out my location on Google maps, Lyle tells me that for the past couple of weeks I have been walking mainly through fields, forest and now hills. In fact, apart from the towns and cities we visited on our actual holiday in2019, this is mostly what I remember about the Scottish landscape.
Our trip to Scotland was one of the last we were fortunate to take before the onset of COVID and I look back on it with very fond memories. We began in Glasgow, staying at a chain hotel, but one that was situated almost beside the River Clyde. The setting was perfect – within easy reach of some amazing walking trails but also close enough to the action of downtown and the hop on hop off bus stop.
One spot I remember particularly was a stop at the Art Gallery and Science Museum. The exterior of the building was amazing in its own right, but inside we came across a display featuring a life size albatross. Some years ago now, I remember being very disappointed when we visited an albatross sanctuary in New Zealand. The birds were too far distant for me to see anything, but here in the museum the bird was close enough and large enough for me to see it. It was huge! The taxidermist must have had quite a job with this one!
We were only in Glasgow for four days – not nearly long enough. The city has a vivid historical past and had our time permitted, I would have stayed even longer. I wonder if my virtual walk will take me near the city as I make my way north. Only three hundred miles to go!
As I crane forward, this posture doesn’t do too much for my back and neck, but I am glad that I can still see enough to follow the play. Often times when Lyle and I “watch” television, I will sit back in a more comfortable chair and just listen to the audio. I like to watch sit comes where I know the characters and can recognize their voices. I like certain news commentators more than others. This also holds true for the commentators on the tennis matches.
I feel very fortunate that I am living in present times when my vision loss is compensated by so many advances in technology. As I am typing this, although I see nothing on my computer screen, my JAWS program is reading back to me every word that I type.
Still, there are some activities where my nose to the screen is the best option. Watching the US tennis Open has been one of these. Congratulations to Leylah Fernandez, Canada’s rising young star of the tennis world as she reached The Women’s Finals in this event. This young tennis player is going to be one to watch in the future, and I think will cause more nose prints on my TV screen!
However, I digress. After my last post re Denis Chabot’s wood carvings, I really want to write a little more about this art form. With my limited sight, I am unable to fully appreciate 2-D art. It’s a shame, but that is the way it is. However, sculptures are a different story. Sometimes I am able to see the outline if I am up close enough, but mostly I like it when I am able to touch the sculptures or carvings themselves.
This happened when we were at a small Farmers Market in Arnes, pronounced R-nez. The village is just north of Gimli and if you are in the area on a Saturday morning, it is a pleasant way to spend a few hours. Our grandson had fun feeding the goats before we strolled around the semi permanent vendor stalls. Then we came to what I liked the most.
To one side there was a substantial play area of wood carvings. There was an old fashioned swing, a bowling lane, a teeter-totter, a zip line and more. Some one had gone to a lot of work. My favourites were the mini statues of Disney and other cartoon characters lined up facing the road. I was able to touch and see each one.
I remember the first time that I had this hands on experience at a public exhibit. We were in San Diego at an aviation museum. Of course I was using my white cane. I was jolted out of my relative boredom of not seeing much, when a museum official approached me with a pair of white gloves. He handed them to me and encouraged me to explore the various exhibits using a hands-on approach. I was thrilled and the museum suddenly became a place of intense interest.
I have come across this invitation to accessibility on only a few occasions but when offered it has been much appreciated. I am sure that it is difficult to strike a balance between protecting valuable exhibits and ensuring that those same exhibits are accessible to those of us with limited or no vision.
There is a picture with this post. It shows our grandson standing between two carved Minions at the Arnes Farmers Market. Our grandson is around the same height as the two Minions, but of course from our viewpoint, he is ever so much cuter.
A grandson between two minions!
