I often stew prunes to add to our breakfast assortments. I like to throw a rooibos teabag into the little saucepan because it gives a nice flavour. The other day I was eating breakfast and the prune had a weird texture …. Like a teabag! (Felt Stew-pid)
Another funny mix up happened when I had emptied some of the contents of my handbag (dangerous exploit) onto the kitchen table. My phone, which has a white cover, rang and I ran to pick it up. I picked up the pack of travel tissues instead and had a good laugh … same colour same shape … very different acoustics!
After finding two small stud earrings in the pocket of my jeans, I put them on the kitchen table as it is half way between the washing machine and my dressing table drawer. As usual, I was doing about 5 things at the same time and kind of forgot they were there. About 20 minutes later I put a baking pan of warm crunchies on the table to cut them into squares and lift them onto the cooling rack. Of course there were stray crumbs that needed to be disposed of. So once again my tongue slammed the brakes on my brain as I recognised the shape of an earing in my mouth.
Oh crumbs! This lack of sight can be dangerous to ones health!
My daughter has a new four legged friend who is delightful and lively, but also another obstacle for me to contend with. `She is a tricolour calico cat called Milly – after millionaire’s short bread (this family loves food). She is basically a white, icing coloured cat, with bits of shortbread colour sticking out between pouring’s of caramel and chocolate. She sounds edible and we sometimes wish we could ‘eat her up ‘(don’t worry, just figurative), but I have to be alert that I don’t sit on her or kick her as she dashes about in true curious cat style.
The other day I came to sit in my chair, close up to the TV. There was a blanket on the seat and as I began to sit, my husband sat up quickly and began to shout out a stream of nonsensical words. I got such a fright that I jumped up as he ended his outburst with the word “cat”. I thought he had been struck by the power of God and was speaking in tongues. It was a good laugh for us but a close call for the curled up ball of hair that was oblivious to the near death experience!
As I went to make the bed this morning, she lay camouflaged in the crumpled blanket. I threw the pillows off the bed and began to rip the covers back. It was only when she hauled her sleepy head up and languidly stretched out her leg that I caught a glimpse of her white underside. She had no idea how close she came to being a projectile heat –squeaking missile.
Any way, it was a lovely excuse to leave the bed unmade. … I chose to apply the sleeping dog idiom.
I have an inkling that this warm, oh- so- innocent creature is deliberately and subversively usurping our authority and making us enjoy her scheme., but I do not think she has considered that the normal ‘cat sat on the mat’ is realistically ‘that ma might sit on the cat ‘.
That would be a-mews-ing!?
Early this morning, long before the alarm was due to go off, I was settled at my desk in front of my reading camera with my nose hovering about 10 centimetres from the high definition monitor screen. The house was dark and still while I read in the glow of my desk light, blinkered and focussed on the words. All was quiet in the room, and I could vaguely hear the twittering and chattering of the birds in the background, announcing the pending dawn. I was deep in thought as I pondered the scripture for my day ahead.
A heavy hand rested on my shoulder and I heard a deep whisper, ‘Jen”. I screamed and shrieked as I lurched back in the chair. I looked up, still yelling because my eyes had not adjusted from the bright glare of the screen and finally the man- sized figure evolved into my apologetic and astonished husband. He happened to be wearing thick socks and had crept quietly into the room so as not to disturb my peace and contemplation. Well that didn’t work! We both got the fright of our lives!
We laughed and hooted in recovery, waiting for the hammers in our chests to wane.
He owes me one …I think Ill demand a caramel dip… ‘I-SCREAM’!!
Once again th
e local gym is the backdrop for a comedy of ‘coincidences’.
So much for sleeping in on a Saturday morning … my husband arranged to gym with a friend at 9am! I dragged myself out of bed and into my bather. This way I know that I will definitely be awake by the time I hit the water. Our usual routine when we get to the club is that we walk together to the rail and then Andre tells me which lane is free to swim in – this way I am less likely to barge headlong into another swimmer. This morning he said that the pool was full of aqua aerobic fans and the other lane was occupied with a private lesson. I slunk off to the change rooms to ponder my dilemma of what to do in a bathing suit for an hour!
As I reached the end cove where I usually change, I literally bumped into my friend Sally – she is a real go getter, who has also been dealt a life card from somewhere near the bottom of the deck. She was dressed for the aqua class and so my problem collided with an opportunity and I heard myself saying, “Hey Sal, I’ll join you if you show me what to do”. The next minute one half blind and one half lame lady were heading towards the class which had just begun.
We slid in amongst the bobbing bodies and joined the jolliness of it all. I could not really see the lady instructor but the commands were clear and descriptive and I think I was kind of doing the right thing. (The advantage of being in water is that if you splash a lot no one can really see what you are doing). As the professional instructor was wearing black and the background tiles are charcoal grey, I could only see the white soles of her trainers which were funny, but useful for me to follow the leg actions. It did, however, leave me guessing about the arm flailing. Fortunately neighbouring water nymphs explained to me in pictures …like hammer throw position or barrel rolls towards you. I was previously fearful about doing a class without being able to see the instructor, but with a little help I didn’t make an entire fool of myself. In fact, I thoroughly enjoyed it and will go back for more.
To top it all, I did not know that it was a water class promotion day … with lucky draws, chocolate muffins and class photos. When they drew the winners’ names it was “Sally” and the next prize went to “Jenny”. I think the rest of the class thought we had rigged it! What a wonderful surprise splash for two blessed friends.
Maybe next time I will offer the instructor two white wristbands so that I can see her arms too.
rows of bouncing caps
Due to low vision, I have never been allowed to drive. But I am a driven person in more ways than one. (I can drive my family round the bend in an instant and drive myself crazy with frustration at times!)
At every opportunity I love to steer things with wheels …like the wheelbarrow, the lawnmower, trolleys (riding down the ramp after shopping) and I even had the thrill of parking a set of portable steps in front of an upstairs gate today. I don’t know why it gives me such a kick to steer- except that I love being in control.
I admit that I am sometimes a terrible back-seat driver (even though I cannot see well). This got me thinking about the waste of energy it is to be uptight about something one has no control over. So, I have decided to become a peaceful passenger.
Let’s see how strong my will is!?
Oh family rejoice!
I love my iPhone, especially the speech to text function as well as Siri – the built in personal secretary who responds to voice commands. Siri and I have had some interesting misunderstandings. I asked her to save a contact of a friend with the surname Christoffels and she wrote down something similar. I just left the mistake for the fun value, so if I need to call him I ask her to dial ‘Mr Chris tonsils’.
I have adjusted Siri to an Australian accent as it is more compatible to my South African Accent than the British or American English. There are however, some sounds where she and I are on different wavelengths. I was out with a new friend and I needed to call our domestic worker. She is a joyful, honest and reliable ‘angel’ who does miracles in our house on a weekly basis – but she insists on pronouncing her name “Regina” with a long ‘I’ (eye) sound. When I asked Siri to call Regina Lama she said, in her polite Australian accent, “Sorry, but I cannot find Vagina Drama in your contacts”. Needless to say we collapsed laughing and the friendship was bounced to another level.
Who says that having low vision cannot be fun?