• So, who am I, anyway?

Life Unscripted

~ Living Life as I see it… or Don't

Life Unscripted

Monthly Archives: March 2016

Book Review: All the Light we Cannot See

31 Thursday Mar 2016

Posted by blindbeader in Book reviews, Fiction

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

blindness, Book reviews, perceptions

Life has a funny way of being coincidental. I was about halfway through reading this book – written by Anthony Doerr – when this review came out. I contemplated putting the book down and letting that review stand on its own, but I decided to finish the book and publish my own review, if for no other reason than to form my own opinion. I’m glad I did!

 

Publisher’s Summary

Marie-Laure lives with her father in Paris near the Museum of Natural History, where he works as the master of its thousands of locks. When she is six,
Marie-Laure goes blind and her father builds a perfect miniature of their neighborhood so she can memorize it by touch and navigate her way home. When
she is 12, the Nazis occupy Paris and father and daughter flee to the walled citadel of Saint-Malo, where Marie-Laure’s reclusive great-uncle lives in
a tall house by the sea. With them they carry what might be the museum’s most valuable and dangerous jewel.

In a mining town in Germany, the orphan Werner grows up with his younger sister, enchanted by a crude radio they find. Werner becomes an expert at building
and fixing these crucial new instruments, a talent that wins him a place at a brutal academy for Hitler Youth, then a special assignment to track the resistance.
More and more aware of the human cost of his intelligence, Werner travels through the heart of the war and, finally, into Saint-Malo, where his story and
Marie-Laure’s converge.

 

A Note about Audio

If you know French – and even if you don’t – skip the commercial audio narrated by Zach Appleman. The narrator’s French is butchered so badly that I had given up on two previous attempts to finish this book in audio. I got through about a third of the audiobook this time before I gave up and switched to a text copy.

 

Poetic Language

I’ve always been fascinated and interested in books taking place in Europe leading up to and during World War II. I felt the despair in the children’s home where Werner grew up, the changing landscape of Paris before the Germans occupied it, and the town of Saint-Malo (and other cities and towns) as the war raged on. Some might find the shifting in time confusing, as the stories of Werner and Marie-Laure diverge and converge, but the book is so poetic that I found myself glued to the pages. Using darkness as a plot device both physical and figurative was beautiful and heartbreaking and brutal, sometimes in the same breath. The importance of radios was also integral to the story, as – even without the ability to see due to blindness or ambient darkness – the radio allowed the characters to not feel so alone and to communicate, often under the radar.

 

Marie-Laure: A Perpetual Child

At first I had high hopes for Doerr’s character of Marie-Laure. Her father, after the shock of her blindness sets in, builds a tactile map of their neighborhood in Paris (and later Saint-Malo), forcing her to memorize it and use it to help her navigate her way around. His intentions are laudable, even though a piece of me cringes at the painstaking lengths he went to to make it happen. The ideas about blindness in the 1930s and 1940s are unknown to me. Other reviewers have been frustrated by her counting of storm drains to navigate, but who am I to judge this? Perhaps my way of navigating the world would seem odd and juvenile to those who will come along in seventy years. But in some important and damaging ways, Doerr does not allow Marie-Laure to grow up normal. She has no friends to speak of, she appears incapable of dressing herself even as a teenager, and the adults in her life tell her what she can and can’t do and where she can travel alone. before her father leaves, he washes his 12-year-old daughter’s hair, something that can be seen as tender, inappropriate and/or patronizing, depending on your viewpoint. When Marie-Laure asks questions, they are asked in the way an impish, precocious child would ask them. Maybe the war made those around Marie-Laure more protective than they otherwise would have been, maybe not. But I do think that Doerr could have made Marie-Laure a more complex character during that war than a young girl in a teenager’s body, maybe one who still loved the sea but also helped to care for herself and those around her.

I must also interject here that the image of Marie-Laure as a capable, independent thinker is much more pronounced toward the end of the book. Even so, it was largely because she had to be, making life choices when bombs were falling around her home, not because she chose that path for herself. Her post-War life is only referenced at the very end of the book. But by the time the reader gets to that point the image of a charming, docile girl is foremost in their mind.

 

Werner: A Man Too Young

From the first time Werner and his sister listened to a radio they found, deep into the night, at the children’s home, I was glued to their story. Werner is a young man who grows up with nothing, living with his sister in (effectively) an orphanage in a mining town in Germany. He is book-smart, good with numbers and formulas and mechanical things, thus earning himself a place at a school for Hitler Youth. His sister is back at the children’s home, young and naive in some ways, wise beyond her years in others. Werner is not a brutal man and seems powerless to stop what goes on at the school and later on the battlefield, where it’s his job to locate clandestine radio transmissions throughout Europe. The Hitler Youth school tries to break the goodness out of him, and somehow it succeeds in making him unwilling to speak up, and yet at his core he is a decent man-child. He cannot understand the brutality, in small ways tries to avoid it, but a deadly mistake truly costs him his innocence. Such passages are hard to read, and yet necessary to his development as a complex character. When he meets Marie-Laure, it’s his chance at redemption…

 

In Conclusion

I don’t regret reading this book. Maybe I read it in spite or of because of the overwhelmingly positive or negative reviews. Mr. Doerr is certainly an author to watch. His depictions of Werner’s life – both before and during World War II) were engrossing and believable. While I wish he would’ve portrayed Marie-Laure (and the actions of those around her) differently, it only slightly took away from my enjoyment of the book. If Marie-Laure’s post-War life had been more well-represented than the last handful of pages – an independent woman with a career, a sexuality, a family – it would’ve made her father’s and uncle’s protection of her (war-time or not) easier to swallow.

 

4/5 stars (3 if it were audio).

Do you See me with Vision?

26 Saturday Mar 2016

Posted by blindbeader in blindness

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

ambassadorship, blindness, comments, disability, perception, videos

Last week, the below video was shared in honor of World Down Syndrome Day. it is narrated by a young woman named AnnaRose, who has Down Syndrome, and the activities depicted are portrayed by an actress named Olivia Wilde, who does not. Only at the end of the video does one see AnnaRose herself, when she says |This is How I see myself. How do you see me?”

 

 

There seems to be two minds regarding this video, and in my opinion both are right. One is that it is important to look beyond the disability of Down Syndrome and embrace AnnaRose as a sister, daughter, or friend. On the Youtube video page, we learn that AnnaRose is a student, an employee, and an athlete. Her life is ordinary in many ways, so the hope is that you look beyond her disability and view her through the lens of humanity. She sees herself following her dreams, especially if they are impossible. She sees herself living an “important, meaningful, beautiful life”, and after all, isn’t that what we all want for ourselves?

 

The other train of thought is more about the visual depiction of AnnaRose’s life, her dreams and her goals. She says she wants to meet someone to share her life with, to be a sister, daughter, friend, to laugh until she can’t breathe, and to cry sometimes. But the video is acted by an actress who doesn’t live with Down Syndrome. This has left many disability activists with the sinking feeling that AnnaRose’s disability, and therefore a part of her identity, is being erased. In a world where disability is either fodder for inspirational feel-good stories or a means of discriminatory treatment, many people with disabilities want the public to see them openly living lives with Down Syndrome, or using a wheelchair, or accompanied by a service dog. Erasing disability is like erasing a part of one’s identity.

 

I first saw this video a week ago when it was first published, and honestly, it’s left me so conflicted. In my opinion, both schools of thought are absolutely right, and yet…

 

I am a woman with a disability. As such, I face many reactions from the general public. I’ve heard the sickly sweet tones of service staff talking to me like I’m a child. I’ve been told that it’s amazing and courageous that I’ve held over ten years of nearly continuous employment, heard the gasps of concerned protectiveness when I mention I enjoy running with my guide dog, or felt the need to fill the stunned silence when I mention that I have started up my own jewelry design business. Conversely, I’ve been told how sorry people are that I can’t see, that my husband is a good man for “taking care of me“, or that there’s no possible way that I can fit in in an office setting despite my work history proving otherwise. It would be a lie if I said these comments and impressions don’t affect me, because they do, no matter how I try and fight it. Not only do they affect how I see myself, they ultimately affect my livelihood and ability to be autonomous and self-sufficient. So, in a way, I want people to look past my disability, to allow me to make mistakes or succeed on my own merits as a woman, not just settle for “good enough” because of the perception that I can’t do any better because I have a proverbial scarlet D for Disabled tattooed on my forehead.

 

And yet, I have no desire to hide my disability. This is partly because it’s not possible for me, but it’s also because I feel like I need to live the best life I can – a vibrant, complex, nuanced, full life with blindness – in order to be happy and to embrace all of who I am. The comments and questions and seemingly constant advocacy aren’t ever going to go away, so as I see it, I have two choices: I can run and hide and let everyone else fight battles for me, or I can prove again and again that there is nothing shameful about being blind, and in fact it has its own advantages. To ignore my blindness completely is to ignore the one thing in my life that has made me as strong as I am while simultaneously bringing me to my knees. You wouldn’t expect a parent or spouse to hide the existance of their child or partner, and yet parenthood and committed relationships often change the lens in which we view the world. So why should anyone hide their disability just to make you more comfortable?

 

I want you to see more than just my blindness, to view me as a friend, an employee, an athlete, an entrepreneur, a customer… a human being. Talk to me, and anyone with a disability, as though your comments were directed back at yourself; realize that we are more than just people whose eyes don’t work or who don’t hear well or are unable to walk at all or without significant pain. We share your humanity, enjoy some of your hobbies, have opinions about religion or politics, have hopes and dreams and desires for our lives. But you don’t need to tiptoe around us, either. Don’t ignore our disability; it is still a part of who we are. In ignoring it, you are in effect not acknowledging the discrimination that we face and the pain and anger that engenders, and can’t truly get to know the completeness of our lives by truly celebrating our successes or picking us up when we’re feeling down.

 

Do you see me as a woman, with dreams for the future and hopes for tomorrow? A woman who likes watching hockey, loves running, and makes pretty beaded things? A woman who drinks too much coffee, loves the sound of a recent snowfall, and sings at the top of her lungs when no one’s around to hear her? That’s great! You see a big part of who I am. Do you see a woman whose eyes don’t work right, who puts labels on her canned goods in her pantry, who navigates the world with a guide dog by her side? A woman who is happy and content with her life, blindness and all, who wants to kick down doors and break down barriers? That’s another part of who I am. You can’t separate one from the other, and yet in a way I need you to. If all you can see is what doesn’t work (my eyes), then you’re missing out on a wicked Scrabble game, a loyal employee, or someone who will cause you to rethink your view of the world. And if you act like my blindness isn’t there, or is scary and uncomfortable, you’re ignoring a true reality of my existence. Put the pieces together, take them apart. See me completely, because I can’t envision myself as one person without the other keeping me company.

An Open Letter to Service Dog Fakers

18 Friday Mar 2016

Posted by blindbeader in Uncategorized

≈ 19 Comments

Tags

access, autonomy, disability, dishonesty, fakers, guide dogs, open letters, service dogs

Listen to a reading of this postDownload

You and I haven’t had the displeasure of meeting, but you’ve met almost all of my friends at one point or another. You may think you’ve pulled one over on everyone, but you’ve actually made governments – state or provincial – stand up and take notice of what you’ve been doing. I wish I could say that it’s nice to meet you, but then I would be lying… something you do every day by passing off your pet (even a well-behaved one) as a service dog. Maybe you know in the back of your head that your actions may affect those of us with illnesses or disabilities who use service dogs to increase our independence or alert to oncoming life-threatening situations; maybe you just want what you want. You love your dog, I get it; I love mine, too. But just in case you weren’t aware, there are some broader implications of buying a $75 vest online and getting some doctor you’ve never met to sign a piece of paper indicating you need a “service” dog. You’ve heard the general arguments, and you keep doing this, so maybe it’s time someone asked some tough questions.

 

Is it Even RIGHT for your Dog?

If your dog doesn’t scrounge, bark, growl, lunge, wander around unnecessarily, or display other inappropriate behavior in public, move on to the next section; I have different questions for you.

Service dogs are well-trained and welcomed into public establishments for good reasons. They go through hundreds if not thousands of hours of public access training by owners, puppy raisers, and/or professionals, who work their way up to being able to take the dogs into malls, restaurants and stores. Not all dogs that are bred, raised, and go through service dog training complete it for a variety of reasons (much of it stress or health related). Even trained service dogs have “off” days but overall are well-behaved and continuously trained to be that way even after being issued to a handler with a disability or life-threatening illness. If a service dog is uncontrollable or aggressive or ill, and no amount of retraining can fix this, handlers go through the heartbreaking process of retiring the dog. In contrast, you just want what you want – your dog in a store with you – and don’t care about the sudden stress you’re putting on your dog. Your Fluffy, nine times out of ten, is incredibly stressed by your taking him into Walmart to buy your quart of milk, dozen eggs, and a replacement toothbrush, and can act fearful or aggressive due to that stress. And don’t get me started on your allowing your dog to get out of control, display aggressive behavior, to wander away from you, or to do other things for which a child would be asked to leave had they done them. In a terrific facebook post, a friend put this better than I ever could:

… look at it from that pet dog’s perspective. He has no idea what is happening to him, very likely does not like it, does not know how to behave, and doesn’t have a handler who is listening to any of the dog cues he is sending for: “Please don’t bring me here. I don’t like this. I’m scared or mad.” That dog is clearly saying one thing, but all that human hears is: “Me. I get to do what is convenient for me. Screw my dog. Screw the civil rights of other people. Me.”

 

Can you Expand your Dog’s Training?

If you’ve socialized your pet appropriately in pet-approved malls, restaurant patios, and stores, you have my gratitude. Dogs are a reality that our service dogs will encounter regularly, and the better trained or behaved your dog is, the easier it is for my service dog and I to go about our business.

But if you have the previously-mentioned “service dog” vest on your pet dog and take well-behaved Brutus or Fluffy into malls and stores where dogs are generally not welcome, not only are you committing a fraud by passing as someone with a disability or illness, you are making your dog unnecessarily dependent on your companionship. You think you can’t function without him, but in reality you are making him uncomfortable with his own company. If your dog can’t be left at home for a few hours without disturbing the neighbors with her barking or destroying your couches out of boredom, this makes my point for me. Why don’t you take some of that wonderful training foundation you’ve put into place and use it to work with him on separation anxiety? You’ve gotten the socialization training down pat, so take a little bit of extra effort and make all of our lives more convenient, not just yours. I have full confidence in you!

 

Do You Know Your Fraud Is Coming to An End?

Not only are legitimate service dog handlers sick of what you’re doing, businesses and governments are, too. This will affect your ability to pull off this fraud for much longer, particularly as it pertains to your misbehaving Brutus or Fluffy. Many of us service dog handlers are educating businesses on what is appropriate service dog behavior, what is a legitimate service dog being under control but having a rough day, and what is flat-out unacceptable. Businesses and service providers are being advised about the questions they can ask, what behavior is acceptable, and when they can deny service. Did you know that in most jurisdictions, businesses have the right to ask that any misbehaving dog – service dog or not – leave the premises? You’ve gotten by with your mass-produced “service dog” vests and registry cards (which, by the way, currently aren’t worth the plastic they’re printed on), counting on the fear of getting sued for asking you to leave your disruptive “service dog” outside or at home. But many of us handlers have your number and are contacting businesses and advising them of their rights (because, after all, they have rights, too).

What is also looking much more likely in a lot of states and provinces is a government-issued ID, which will make it much much harder, and the penalties much more expensive, to pass Brutus or Fluffy off as a service dog. And you know who’s going to have the burden of providing this legitimate piece of plastic for the asking? Someone like me, who thank you very much, is noticeable enough because of my service dog – you know, one that mitigates a disability? I hope that financial penalties for your fraud will be high, even as I don’t think it’s fair that I will likely one day have to show identifiable information to anyone who asks because you’ve chosen convenience and selfishness over my right to an autonomous and independent life.

 

Do you Actually want to Live My Life?

Speaking of living an autonomous and independent life, do you realize what these real service dogs actually do? They guide blind and visually impaired people safely through streets and malls and airports. They alert a deaf or hard-of-hearing handler of sounds in their environment. They pull wheelchairs and open doors and retrieve dropped objects. If their handler is going through a panic attack, it is the dog’s job to indicate that one is coming or remove the handler from the situation. If a diabetic’s blood sugar is low or an epileptic is going to have a seizure, these dogs alert them to get to a safe place or to take their medication. And I haven’t even scratched the surface. These dogs do a million and one little things that assist the independence of people with disabilities and/or with illnesses that could threaten their lives.

Have you lived a day where you hear a child ask what’s wrong with you, or how sorry someone is that you are blind or deaf or use a wheelchair? Have you been told that severe anxiety or post-traumatic stress disorder is all in your head while you’ve struggled to leave your house and feel safe in a crowd? Do you worry about packing enough food in case your blood sugar gets too low, or have this niggling sense of dread in the back of your mind about when the next seizure could hit? Do you struggle to obtain or maintain a job because people question your ability to perform job tasks, or feel like you have to hide a part of yourself in order to keep the job you do have?

I could go on and on with these questions, but I’ve made my point. Until such point as you’ve lived these lives – whether my own or that of someone I know and care about – then you have no business pretending that you do. Until you’ve had to chew out a parent for allowing their child to make inappropriate overtures to your service dog, until you’ve had strangers abruptly grab your body or mobility aid because they “meant well,” until you’ve been told that your panic attacks or flashbacks are all in your head and to suck it up and get on with it, you do not have the right to use a dog to pretend that this is your reality. If you wouldn’t take your pet dog dressed in “service dog” gear to a job interview because you wouldn’t want the stigma of disability attached to you, then how dare you do so when it’s convenient for you? You want the perks with none of the inconveniences, fears, and complexity that go along with them.

 

In Conclusion

Many people with disabilities live happy and fulfilled lives, some with service dogs and some without. For many of us, a service dog is the difference between independence and seclusion, confidence and fear, life and death. Are you still going to tell me that this little white lie – pretending you have a disability – doesn’t hurt anyone? Call me the next time someone talks to you like you’re a child, denies you an opportunity for employment, or makes you disclose the fact that you live with PTSD because you “look so normal.” If a store doesn’t want to welcome pets, that is their decision; but they can’t turn away people who use wheelchairs, walkers or canes, so they can’t turn away well-behaved service dogs accompanying people with legitimate disabilities. Unfortunately, actions like yours have caused stores and restaurants to turn us away, usually rudely and publicly. I’m sure your dog is lovely, but you have no business pretending he is what he isn’t, or you live with something you don’t. I don’t care what makes you knock off this self-centered entitled behavior – huge monetary fines, a pricked conscience, or embarrassment from being asked to leave by a well-informed employee of a no-pets-allowed establishment – but it’s time your nose stopped growing.

It’s Not About the Oranges

12 Saturday Mar 2016

Posted by blindbeader in blindness

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

access, consideration, marketing, respect

I never thought I would write a blog post about a fruit I seldom eat, but I also never thought that Twitter would nearly blow up over… oranges.

 

Whole Foods, an American grocery chain generally marketed to the upwardly mobile and/or environmentally conscious recently stocked pre-peeled oranges wrapped in plastic. The backlash on social media was swift: Who is too lazy to peel their oranges? And all of that plastic CAN’t be good for the environment… right? Whole Foods then issued a statement that the product was a “mistake” and they pulled it from their shelves.

 

In response to – if not defense of – this product, many people with illnesses or disabilities that make peeling and cutting fruits and vegetables a painful challenge (if not impossible) chose to use this as a teaching opportunity. I’ve written a bit about social media activism, and while an argument can be made that much of it might seem angry or whiny, I found the tone of this particular activism was more informative. It brought to the consciousness things I’ve never considered myself, because I’ve been blessed with two steady hands that make cooking and food preparation a generally (though not always) safe life skill. But what if I had limited dexterity or severe joint pain? What if I had to worry about coordination or seizures? I don’t live with these things, and that’s a blessing, but many people do… and many have articulated that products like this are accessibility needs, not wants.

 

Leaving aside the general price-points of high-end markets, I’ve enjoyed the general tone of this conversation, at least the respectful bits that discuss the seeming gap between environmentalism and access to healthy food. Whether Whole Foods put this product on their shelf, or another grocer somewhere else, the topic will continue to be brought up in various incarnations. What is the difference between pre-peeled oranges packed in plastic and pre-sliced mushrooms packaged the same way? No one bats an eye about that. How about personal servings of yogurt, pre-shredded salad mix, or juice boxes with plastic-wrapped straws? Many of these foods are considered “convenience” foods, and no one can argue that they aren’t as environmentally friendly as buying that big tub of yogurt or that large carton of juice. Convenience in and of itself isn’t always bad, especially if it makes life easier and healthy food more easily preparable for everyone. No one seems to bat an eye at these “convenience” foods as much as the oranges, perhaps because they are portable and self-contained right off the shelf. But I, for one, may never think of them the same way again. What if I couldn’t peel my own orange, for whatever reason? Would I have to try and hide my “convenience” food purchases for fear of being judged as not caring for the environment? Would I, as others have suggested, have to call someone over to my house to peel my apples for me if I get peckish in the middle of the night? Thanks, but no thanks…

 

The discussion that this little fruit has brought may never go away completely, and it’s not an either-or debate. The suggestions have been swift and numerous to intersect convenience, attainability, and environmentally friendly. Suggestions ranged from simply pointing out that there are worse or different ways of being poor stewards of the earth, to suggesting that some of the cost of pre-packaged food can go into research and development for more environmentally friendly containers and wrapping. None of this is a one-sided debate, because it is like comparing… well, apples to oranges. If I walk to a grocery store and buy some pre-packaged food, am I leaving more of a carbon footprint than someone who drives to the grocery store and buys all of their products in bulk? There are no easy answers to these questions, but the conversation is worth having. I may not be a card-carrying environmentalist, but I like to do what I can for the planet. And if someone wants to buy a pre-packaged salad, for whatever reason, it’s nobody’s business but theirs. Besides, if you want to raise a stink about plastic-wrapped vegetables, what about the plastic bag of chips in your shopping cart?

Painting Pictures of Egypt

04 Friday Mar 2016

Posted by blindbeader in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

changes, personal, reflections

Change is an inevitable part of life – or it should be. Whether moving house, obtaining or losing or changing jobs, attending or leaving school, starting new relationships or ending them, getting married or divorced, having a child, or losing a loved one… we’ve all experienced change in some way or another. Some of these changes are joyous and should be celebrated, some are sad and tragic and need to be mourned, while others are some shades of happiness alongside those of sadness.

 

I started thinking about change this past week when I had an opportunity to visit my family and friends in the Vancouver area. It was a much-needed respite from job-hunting, though I was able to submit resumes and schedule interviews from there, so I guess it wasn’t a true “break” from it. But I found myself shocked at some of the changes in myself, in people I knew and in how they related to me. In her beautiful song, Painting Pictures of Egypt, Sara Groves speaks longingly of where she’s been and where she’s going, how she misses what used to be but has to keep pressing forward. I often found myself thinking of this song during my trip, as even back in Edmonton, parts of my life are in a state of transition.

 

One of the biggest changes that my friends and family were confronted with was the addition of my guide dog. Guide dog travel is different in some ways to cane travel, and I found myself being given landmarks (electrical boxes, flower pots), and then Jenny trying to guide around them. it was a bit of a head trip to me and to those around me, who’ve only seen me with a cane… not to mention an opportunity to learn, yet again, how Jenny works best. It was an opportunity to show grace to myself, my dog, and those around me… and I am ashamed to admit I was not always graceful.

 

One Saturday afternoon, I witnessed two things back to back that highlighted the highs and lows of life. A dear friend from high school got married! It was a beautiful, elegant, but simple wedding that outlined the  deep love and commitment that they had for each other. Not long afterward, I spent time with a relative who currently lives in a care home. This was really hard to handle emotionally, as I hadn’t seen him in several years, and he was not quite fully present in the room with us (frequently asking who I was, etc.) On the heels of a celebration of love, witnessing this change in him was truly sad and painful, even as I sometimes regret what could have been…

 

I have seen over the past few years many people I know who are forced to confront change in a much more direct and personal way. Whether it’s a medical diagnosis, the loss of a spouse, or the sudden onset of disability, I can only look with them and admire their tenacity. many of these circumstances are painful, threatening to cut them to the core, and yet many will reach out with grace and tenacity and grit that even they never knew they had. Even those who struggle through pain are strong in their own way. Many of these people don’t have the luxury of many of us; they truly can’t go back to where they’ve been, or at least live the exact way they used to.

 

Now that I am back home, I am confronted with more changes. Being between jobs is infuriating and invigorating, yet I can’t wait to get back to work. The seasons are changing from winter to spring, which brings on some fun allergies, even as the temperature warms up and I can hear the birds singing. In some ways I want to go back to where I’ve been, but it doesn’t seem to really fit me anymore. I can look forward with one eye over my shoulder back to where I’ve been, or keep both eyes on the road in front of me. Maybe I will go back, maybe I won’t, only time and circumstances can tell that. But in my pictures of Egypt, I won’t be leaving out the painful bits, because I can’t live life with rose-coloured glasses… and life is too messy for all that…

Subscribe

  • Entries (RSS)
  • Comments (RSS)

Archives

  • April 2023
  • January 2023
  • December 2022
  • October 2022
  • June 2022
  • April 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • October 2021
  • August 2021
  • June 2021
  • April 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • January 2021
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • April 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • September 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014

Categories

  • Blind Lady Gets Sh*t Done
  • blindness
    • My Sorta Kinda Maybe (In)accessible Life
  • Book reviews
    • Fiction
    • Nonfiction
  • Epic Road Trip of Awesome
  • Exploring Edmonton
  • Finance Friday
  • Guide Dog 2.0
  • New York vacation
  • The Empowered Series
  • The Intrepid Journey 2018
  • Ultimate Blog Challenge
  • Ultimate Blog Challenge, Part 2
  • Ultimate Blog Challenge, Part 3
  • Uncategorized

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in

Support my blog!

Buy Me a Coffee at ko-fi.com

What’s gotten folks talking?

Carol anne on The UBC Back to School Edition…
Steve Sawczyn on The UBC Back to School Edition…
The Ultimate Blog Ch… on Hanging up the Harness: On Gui…
Carol anne on Happy International Dog D…
blindbeader on Hanging up the Harness: On Gui…
blindbeader on Hanging up the Harness: On Gui…
blindbeader on Hanging up the Harness: On Gui…
blindbeader on Hanging up the Harness: On Gui…
Ben on Hanging up the Harness: On Gui…
Norma on Hanging up the Harness: On Gui…

Enter your email address here and receive new posts by email!

Join 1,575 other subscribers

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Follow Following
    • Life Unscripted
    • Join 204 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Life Unscripted
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar