Do You Hear What You Hear?

Sitting at my dining room table working on some things, I heard the birds outside, my bird inside crunching on his pellets, the occasional car passing by and the ever-present Weather Channel on low in the living room. Although I am home a good part of the time, I keep busy and don’t really notice the soundtrack of my daily life.

I’m guessing you don’t either. Whether it’s keyboards clicking, phones ringing, babies crying, children playing, jet engines roaring, cars revving all around you on the highway, unless they require your attention, they are pushed to the back of our minds as soon as they enter our ear canals. And if we are being honest, and we always are here at, if it’s not our happy place, perhaps ocean waves or the water lapping at the edge of the lake, why would we want to really hear it, anyway?

I’m not preaching here. I am as guilty of this as anyone else. And I should know better. Today I realized that hearing the seemingly mundane sounds of everyday life is a gift and not a right. I learned this the hard way. And that’s what makes sharing it with you so easy.


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If Friendship Was A Candle, It Would Smell Like Christmas Morn

My friends are so very important to me as I have written about many times on this blog. And although we are in constant contact via text, there is nothing better than getting caught up on each other’s lives in person. Every get-together has a holiday feel to it, beginning when we schedule a date and time. As the day approaches, excitement builds and when it finally arrives, it’s a little like Christmas morning.

It’s the same anticipation and complete joy of wanting that shiny new bicycle and knowing without a doubt that it is under the tree waiting for you. Together you will balance each other out and keep each other upright, the wind in your hair during the wild rides, no matter how misguided and dumb they may be. You will share easy treks in comfortable silence. You will tackle the hills as one and when you reach the top, you are sure to enjoy the celebratory coast down the other side. And when you get into bed that evening, your face will hurt from all the laughter, face lines be damned.

Today is a Christmas morning for me. As I wait for my friend to arrive, the adult equivalent of impatiently begging my parents to get up, I am happy and grateful that this woman is in my life. And I hope she forgives me for comparing her to a bicycle.


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Home Is Where The Work Is

My mom was a stay-at-home mom, although in those days she was branded a “housewife”. Whatever the title du jour, I loved her being there after school and her chaperoning field trips.

I, however, wanted a career and for twenty-five years worked in corporate America. Since the loss of my vision I have taken on the role of stay-at-home mom to our rescue parrot, Piper, and set to work on projects around the house that I never had time for while at the office or traveling for business. It’s hard not to feel an obligation when home all the time to do not only the daily things we all must do but the tasks that normally sit for years. I never feel like I can really relax because there is always something to do. I have a newfound respect for those who stay home, raise children and manage their households.

And now that I am preparing to start a new chapter in my professional life, I find myself with actual homework for a course I am taking. As my business busyness increases, I will add juggling to the long list of visual challenges. Challenges, though, are made to be broken.

As I write this post, the sheets are in the dryer. After almost twenty-five years of marriage, the bed is the one place in my home I am retired.


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Power Steering

Reporters keep commenting that President Obama looks so happy when he’s driving a golf cart, speculating it’s due to,the fact that he hasn’t driven anything in eight years. I know how he feels.

I think driving is the thing I miss the most since my sight became compromised. Imagine not being able to get in your car whenever you want and go anywhere that you want. Inconceivable, right? Until it’s not because it happens to you, like every other tragedy or bad thing you hear about. You take it in, feel empathy for the person going through it and then get on with your life. I don’t blame you and I do it too, even after all the unbelievable things that have occurred in my life recently.

I was just about to say how envious I am of President Obama, back behind the wheel. But then I realized that he used to be the most powerful person in the world and no longer is. Me? I’m working really hard these days to take my power back. Who’s in the driver’s seat now?


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Birdtual Assistant

A webinar for me . . .

. . . means R&R for Piper.

As I listened to the webinar host list all the participants’ states and countries, I wondered how many others had a parrot cuddling up against their necks? In 90º temperatures, I might add! I hope the answer is a lot. Because no matter where you are, when a feathered bundle of love snuggles up, you are home.


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Doodling’s Still Dandy

When I was a part of the workforce, conference and client calls as well as webinars were a daily occurrence. Like my maternal grandmother, I have always been a doodler, and these meetings were when I practiced my craft.

Yesterday, while participating in a webinar about growing your online audience, I took my Sharpie to paper. (If I write large with a Sharpie I can see what I’ve written by holding the paper close to my eyes.) I had already drawn some of my favorites — a flower, a cube — when I realized I was doodling for the first time since my vision loss. Connecting the corners of the cube is difficult with my depth perception issues, but there I was: back doodling on a webinar.

I’m finding out that as you begin to put together your new puzzle, a lot of the old pieces of your life will unexpectedly resurface and be put to good use once again. Picking up that pen was as natural as taking notes and asking questions during the presentation. I didn’t even realize what I had done until after I had created a few of the masterpiece drawings. Proof, if needed, just how bad my vision is.

I don’t yet know exactly what the completed puzzle will look like. But I can’t wait to see which pieces of my past my future holds.


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